#continuation of my last cowboy update

[aylish91]

To all my extremely patient followers and readers:

Thank you sooo much for sticking with me through this long drought of lack of original content. I lost my father a while back and it really hit me hard, taking a lot of my motivation for things away. On top of that, I had a lot more responsibilities stemming from it and making sure everyone/thing was alright.

I have been so thankful for all the lovely words/asks/and interactions from all of you!!! So thank you all! It has meant more to me than you know!!!

With that said~

I have regained enough motivation to hyper-focus on some bad sans cowboy content inspired by venesins' art for yehaugust!!! Chapter 1 is currently at 1088 words (would be longer, but I moved stuff around) and growing with notes and future scenes/chapters already planned! It has gotten me really excited!

Thank you for all of your support and to everyone who has enjoyed my stories! You guys are the best and I look forward to it's release!

~~~

Moving forward, you were stopped when cold dread filled your soul, spreading from where a tar like tendril had tightly wrapped around your arm. It was thick and oddly warm against your skin, but the feelings that followed its touch made you clammy and cold. The contrasting sensations clashed within your mind, leaving you confused and in shock as your eyes darted up to the appendages host with a gasp. A blazing cyan light glared back, three more tendrils waving agitatedly behind their snarling owners back. His words were little more than a hiss.

[morning-star-joy]

some sweet ending

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: A lazy night of domestic bliss.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Smut. Handjob, v fingering. Domestic life kink, competence kink, praise kink. Sub!Arthur. Vocal!Arthur. Subtle orgasm denial. Premature ejaculation if you squint. Established relationship/marriage. Chubby!Arthur. Mention of past canon-typical violence. Cigarette smoking. Mention of food/eating. Post-Canon, no TB, Arthur Morgan gets a happy ending with lots of love and orgasms. Arthur's POV.

Wordcount: 1.9k

masterlist || ko-fi || updates blog

dividers by @saradika

The unbearable heat of the summer day eases just slightly as it transitions to night, but it still leaves a light sheen of sweat on Arthur’s skin as he lays back on the bed, naked as the day he was born to try and combat the heat.

“Hotter than the devil’s asscrack out there,” he grunts, brushing a hand through his hair, still damp from the bath you’d forced him to take after a long day of hard work out in the sun. 

Not sharing my sheets with a smelly, sticky ol’ cowboy, you’d ordered him towards the bath you’d drawn with a pointed look, and he was off to do what you commanded with little more than a sigh.

You hum beside him at his crude comment on the weather, curled up on your side and facing away from him, turning another page in the new dime novel you’d coaxed him to pick up on his latest run into town for supplies. “Charming.”

“That’s what they always call me,” he sighs out sarcastically, and you do huff a quiet laugh at that. It’s a beautiful sound, your laughter; one that has always been more reminiscent of pure music than something human to him, and it curls a smile up onto his lips.

Arthur leans over to rustle through the nightstand, pulling out a cigarette to place between his smirk. He lights it and settles back into the pillows, and you’re turning onto your back to mimic his movements, propping up against him even when he grumbles in protest at your added body heat.

He makes no real effort to shake you off, though. Not when your hand subconsciously finds his knee, seeking the connection between you, even when he was right here and never going anywhere again. 

Your fingers, just as callused as his from years of running as outlaws, slowly stroke along the inside of his knee. The touch is borne from familiarity of the most primal, most loving kind; the joining of flesh and meeting of hearts; the simple gem embedded into a slim band, glinting in the low, flickering lamplight when your fingers keep retracing the same lazy circle on his skin.

When you reach the end of your page, Arthur watches your brows furrow, your hand clasping at the bottom of the book fidgeting. It takes a moment before he realizes you were trying to turn to the next page without removing your hand from his knee.

The simple, silent act of not wanting to separate from him tugs at the fondness of you that had found a home in his heart years ago, a silent admiration that had turned into love and devotion somewhere along the way.

He holds back a chuckle before he grabs the top corner of the page, tugging it from your grip on the bottom of the novel and turning it for you. Your head ducks further into the pages, but he sees the smile turning up the corner of your mouth, and a huff of amusement blows smoke out around the cigarette still perched between his own lips.

Slowly, your hand slips from his knee and up his leg, the muscles tensing in his thigh when your fingernails graze alongside it. The traitorous twitch of his cock between his legs in the soft moment isn’t lost on either of you, but you continue to draw those same lazy circles on his thigh.

Each stroke draws you closer inwards, until your nails scrape up along the V of his hips and pull a quiet grunt from his throat.

Arthur only lasts a few more passes of your nails up and down that line before he’s mumbling around the cigarette, “Sweetheart…”

You hum again, taking the cue and dragging your fingers up towards his soft belly, rounder from the years of eating well and not running for your lives. He hadn't been too fond of it for a while, but you had certainly found more…unorthodox ways to change his mind about it.

Dragging your fingers through the thick hair that grew more coarse the further down you went, he sucks in a sharp breath when you reach the base of his cock, tracing it with the tip of your trigger finger as the smoke fills his lungs and sends a rush through his head.

He’d watched that finger press down on the trigger of your trusty shotgun for years, watched you take lives time and time again, for the gang and for him. And now you used it to tend to your ranch and undress him and Jesus he was already so fucking hard it hurt, especially with the way you kept—

“Goddamn teasing me,” Arthur grits through clenched teeth, and your laugh is so airy, so wonderfully carefree, because you had all the time in the world now.

No more camps, no more keeping quiet and finishing fast in tents with the flaps sewn closed. 

This house was yours, something you’d built from the ground up together, and you could take all night taking each other apart. You could make him sing, and you would, after so long of making it clear just how much you adored the sounds of pleasure he once was so baffled that he could even make for you.

Another thing he didn’t believe you could actually enjoy, not until he cupped your cunt through your bloomers on one night of making him moan and whimper until his throat was sore, and found you completely soaked for him.

“You still get hard so fast for me,” you whisper, your hand gently wrapping around his throbbing cock until you have it in a tight fist, giving it a tug that pulls a whine from deep in his chest. 

Sweat from the hot night coats your palm, making each stroke and twist easier, and he’s already melting back into the pillows, free hand grabbing around your waist for purchase as his hips thrust up to smack against your closed hand.

“Only for you,” Arthur whispers, eyes half-lidded as he stares up at the ceiling of your bedroom, in your home, taking another idle drag from the cigarette as you lazily jerk him off.

He can hear the smirk in your voice when you murmur, “Good boy,” and he would’ve been lost right then and there if you didn’t wrap your hand around the base of his cock and squeeze.

Arthur’s whimper is choked, hand spreading across your sternum and slipping up to cup the swell of your breast through the chemise that sticks to your skin in the heat. He feels your legs shift beside him, a soft moan leaving your own lips when your thighs rub together, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose as he tries to hold on for you.

“Turn my page,” you whisper your order, and his shaky hand is leaving your body in an instant to follow your command. The loss of his palm on you makes you whimper, and he bites his lip when your hand leisurely slides back up his cock to circle that damned trigger finger around the red, leaking head.

Taking these kinds of orders from you, trusting you enough to guide him, had become a sweet relief after years of having to be such a strong, immovable force for everybody who always needed something from him. And everybody always needed something from him.

Where he was now, his life with you—it was the first real choice Arthur had made for himself in…hell, maybe ever. 

You didn’t need him to be here, you would be just fine on your own, as would he. 

But this was what you wanted. It’s what he wanted. When everything went up in flames, you were both left standing together amongst the ashes. 

And once every loved one who remained was taken care of, this was your first choice. The only choice. One you both made together, steps you took beside each other, even if neither of you were sure just where it’d get you. 

That faith his mentor had always wanted—Arthur had always had it.

It just was meant for you.

His fingers hastily push up your chemise, slipping down to drag between the soaked lips of your pussy. All it takes is the way he easily sinks a digit into your wet heat, your walls welcoming him in and sucking him down to just the first knuckle, before he’s spilling in your palm.

You ease him through it, like you always do, whispering soft praises as you lean down to kiss along the inside of his knee, giving gentle tugs of his cock until all the spend you could get out of him mixes with the sweat on his stomach.

Arthur only takes the time to put out the dangerously burned down cigarette before he tugs you back when you try to get a washcloth to clean him back up, replying to your sweet, loving assurances that you would be fine with his own assurances that he wanted this, he wanted you.

Because you were his best girl, his goddamn wife, and he wanted to see that beginning of want in your eyes dissolve into the dazed, relaxed look of complete ecstasy. You may be fine without being returned what you gave, but he never would be.

And so you end up straddling the mess you had made him leave on his own stomach. He pumps one finger into you until you can take two, two until you can take three, and it’s not long before you’re grinding down along his hand, your own name forgotten. 

His large hand palms at your tits before he grabs one, massaging the soft flesh while his fingers curl inside you, and your eyes roll back into your head. Hips rolling desperately, your slick coats his bottomed out digits, dripping down to his wrist until you are coming with a cry of his name, and Arthur grins.

He never really smiled before you.

You smile too, and it doesn’t fade. Not even when you collapse on top of him, and you’re both a mess of miserably hot, sticky limbs, but at least the last tendrils of pleasure linger, tying you together in sweet bliss that makes you hum happily.

Arthur hums quietly along with you, lips finding your forehead in a gentle kiss. He mumbles against the warm skin there, “What was that you was sayin’ earlier? Somethin’ about your husband bein’ a smelly, sticky ol’ cowboy?”

Your palm smacks against the old scar on his shoulder, something that finally doesn’t hurt anymore, and laughter rumbles from his chest as you lay your head on it.

“Shut up,” you grumble, even as you snuggle into him and kiss the healed over skin gently. He welcomes you in close, despite the mess between you.

Then, not a moment later: “I love you.”

Arthur smiles again as he whispers it back to you, and that smile stays when you both get up to gently wipe each other down, crack open the window to let a gentle breeze into the hot, sex-scented room, then crawl back into your bed.

As he watches your face relax with sleep, and feels the call towards dreams himself, he vaguely remembers a time where part of him had longed for the end.

Now, he just can’t wait to grow old with you.

[55sturn]

✮ you fell from the stars, and i’m starstruck!

welcome to my wip [ work in progress ] list!

disclaimer: each wip is titled with a song but the actual piece of work might not have the exact same title! ie: blurb posts and headcanons will not have the title used on this post, but it will be inspired by the lyrics i have chosen as the title! every piece of my writing and major post has been titled with a song lyric, so i’m keeping up the aesthetic. this will be updated as the fics + posts are posted!

last update: august 10th 2024 @ 5:46 PM

crossed out titles means the wip has been scrapped!

✮ fics!

candy coated misery: he’s the town’s cowboy casanova, and she’s the pastor’s daughter, is he willing to change his ways for this new girl or will he pull the same tricks he always has?

c’mon baby get in: continuation of SOME TYPE OF WAY. matt is desperate to see her again but his bikes in the shop, so he takes for her a ride in the next best thing, his 1967 chevy impala, and things get a lot more heated than the last time they were together.

✮ blurbs!

updates to come!

✮ headcanons!

frat boy!matt: headcanons about frat boy!matt falling in love with you. [ sfw + nsfw ] [ collab with @mattscoquette ]

✮ series!

ceo + company playboy!matt x stripper!reader: details to come! [ nsfw ]

✮ fics!

if i said something, i mean it: in which temptation gets the best of you upon meeting your boyfriend’s best friend from high school four years into the relationship.

i’ve been seeing angels: a detailed recounting of y/n grappling with the unsolved death of her best friend and the love of her life.

✮ blurbs!

skater!chris: detailed blurbs about your relationship with skater!chris! [ sfw + nsfw ]

winner takes all?: playing fort with cocky frenemy!chris takes a much more interesting turn that originally expected. [ suggestive + nfsw, open ending ]

it’s a cruel summer: detailed blurbs about your situationship with toxic!chris. [ angst + no comfort, nsfw ]

your camera roll if you were dating skater!chris: POSTED

✮ headcanons!

brat tamer!chris: headcanons about brat tamer!chris [ nsfw ] [ collab with @bratzforchris ]

frat boy!chris: you were convinced you could change his ways. [ nsfw, sfw, angst + no comfort ]

✮ series!

drummer!chris: when you accept an offer to be an upcoming band’s tour photographer, you quickly find out than you signed up for much more than anticipated. [ angst, sfw, nsfw, suggestive, toxic relationships, drugs ]

✮ fics!

where the kisses ain’t free: a secret frat boy!matt x reader x frat boy!chris threesome! details are secret! [ heavily nsfw ] [ collab with @mattscoquette ]

✮ headcanons!

mean!chris x fem!crybaby!reader x sweetheart!matt: an inside look to your confusing relationship with two triplets.

BACK!

[waywardnerd67]

Cowboy Chasing

Title: Cowboy Chasing Summary: Chasing storms was simple. Chasing the tornado chasing cowboy was a whole different story. Main Characters: Tyler Owens, Reader Pairing: Tyler Owens, Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluff/Angst Word Count: 2481 A/N: My first fic in over a year thanks to a certain tornado chasing cowboy :) I used my taglist from over a year ago. If you don’t want to be tag please let me know (no hard feelings, I totally get it).

“Are you sure?” Her best friend asked as (Y/N) continued to pack her duffel bag.

She sighed, “Yes, I’m sure. When he left we had a fight and I can’t live with myself if anything were to happen to him.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been chasing?”

Flashes of that last night played in her mind, “A few years…”

Her best friend took her hands, “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Also, tell Boone he still owes me a dance.” They started laughing as (Y/N) zipped up her bag.

“Will do. I’ll call you when I get to Enid.” (Y/N) hugged her friend then made her way out of their apartment.

(Y/N) knew the drive to Enid, Oklahoma like the back of her hand. Every storm season that is where the chasers would gather to prep for the first chase. Checking the forecasts, she knew there was a chance the Wranglers would already be out on the road heading south towards Oklahoma City. She pulled out her phone, hitting Dani’s number and sending her a voice memo.

“Hey, I’m heading out to you guys. If you leave Enid, could you let me know. I appreciate it. Oh and don’t tell Tyler. Love ya.”

Dani’s response was immediate, “As I live and breathe, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Girl, it’s been too long. We’re heading south on the 81 towards Kingfisher in the morning. Miss and love ya.”

Another voice memo came through, “Also, your secret is safe with me. Does this mean you’re back?”

(Y/N) shook her head. The thought of chasing again was exciting and terrifying. There was no way she could go back. Not after all the time that had passed and not after the last chase. No, this trip was for closure and nothing more.

Between several cans of Monster and singing to the top of her lungs, (Y/N) made it to Enid by one in the morning. A soft smile spreading across her face seeing all the cars, vans and rigs of fellow chasers. Two groups stood out the most. The pristine white trucks and van of Storm Par were parked all by themselves. Javi must have gotten more money from Riggs noticing their team now having a fourth truck code name Toto.

Then there was the all too familiar red Dodge Ram parked in the middle of the lot. (Y/N) couldn’t believe they still had the beat up camper and van. With their YouTube channel taking off, she figured they would have at least updated the camper. Knowing Tyler, he probably used any money to go to helping the families and loved ones after a tornado. Humanitarian was one of the qualities that had attracted her to chasing with them and following Tyler Owens wherever the wind blew him.

“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice called out.

“Hiya Boone.” She turned around to see Boone, Dexter, Lilly and Dani all walking back from the small 24 hour diner.

“‘Bout time you came back out with us! We missed you!” He pulled her into a hug before everyone else surrounded her.

For the first time in years, (Y/N) finally felt at home again. The years she spent chasing storms with her Wrangler family were the best years of her life. Until it all went to shit.

“Well, well, who do we have here?”

His southern drawl never failed to send goosebumps over her skin, “Hey Tyler, how are you?”

“I’m good, (Y/N). I’m very good.” He smirked.

Dani smacked his shoulder, “Don't mind him, he’s been watching Top Gun Maverick on repeat.”

“You look good, Tyler.” (Y/N) couldn’t help her eyes from traveling down the length of his body.

There was nothing noticeably different about him since she last saw him a year ago. He still wore the same blue jeans, brown boots, Wrangler belt buckle and dark button down. The only thing missing was his Stetson and she knew exactly where it would be.

She noticed he was taking inventory of her as well as those dark green eyes gave her once over, “You look good too. So, what brings you out here?”

“I was hoping to talk to you before you went out tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

Tyler motioned for her to follow him to his motel room. (Y/N) waved to her family when Boone stopped her.

“You’re not staying, are you?” He asked with dark chocolate puppy eyes.

She shook her head then said, “Annie wanted me to let you know that you still owe her a dance. You should come on by and square your debt with her after this storm season.”

His smile was infectious, “I will. It was damn good to see ya, (Y/N).”

She turned around to see Tyler leaning against the door frame of his room. She stepped inside, chuckling to herself seeing some things truly would never change. He had clothes laid out everywhere drying. An empty pizza box and three beers out of six left sitting on his table. The TV was on showing infomercials until the morning news came on.

“Ya know, if you’re wanting to head back out I don’t know if we have room for you. We have a big shot British reporter going out with us this year.” Tyler offered her a bottle of water which she accepted.

“Reporter? Wow… you’ve really hit the big time.” She didn’t mean for it to come out as snarky as it did, “Hopefully, they knew what they were getting themselves into.”

Tyler flopped down on the bed, crossing his ankles and resting his head on one of his arms. Seeing his body stretched out brought up older memories of their early chasing years. The thrill of getting close to a tornado and the adrenaline they would need to work off when they got to a motel for the night. (Y/N) knew that body as well as she knew her own and now she could feel her cheeks flushing.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his handsome face.

She rolled her eyes, knowing she played right into his little trap. He knew she would think of the good times seeing him stretched out like that. Knowing she couldn’t help to be nostalgic and remember the good ole days. As well he could read her, she could read him. (Y/N) sat down on the opposite bed taking a long drink of her water.

“The last time I was with you, we had a huge fight.” She looked over at him as he moved to mirror her sitting position.

He leaned forward on his elbows, clasping his hands together, “Mmhmm.”

“We both said some hurtful things and I wanted to clear the air between us.”

His green eyes locked onto hers, “You’re wanting an apology.”

She sighed, “No. I want you to know that… that I care about you and the team. I didn’t want you leading them into unnecessary danger for more followers or views.”

“If I remember correctly you said that I was and I quote, A reckless tornado chasing cowboy with a death wish.”

She flinched, “I know. I was frustrated and we had just lost…”

Tyler stood up, running his hand through his golden hair, “Theo knew what he was getting into when he started chasing with us. Hell, he had watched you chase well before he joined us. We all know the dangers of this job, but it’s worth it if we can help the people here.”

It was the same speech Tyler had given her a year ago. She clenched her fists on top of her knees, unable to keep the anger from flooding her system.

“Damn it Tyler, he should have never been in your damn truck! He should have been with Dex and Dani in the camper, but you wanted him to experience the real thing. What did that get him?”

She covered her mouth as Tyler’s eyes widened, “Tyler, I’m… I didn’t…”

He stormed over to the door, “If you think that I don’t spend every moment of every day not blaming myself for your brother’s death then you never knew me.”

He was gone with the door slamming shut. (Y/N) punched the bed beside her to release some of the rage overwhelming her.

“Fuck!” She yelled out before the tears started to fall, “This was not how I wanted it to go.”

After an hour, (Y/N) left the room in search of Tyler. She knew exactly where he would be heading towards his truck. He was sitting up on the roof tinkering with some the gauges.

“I’m sorry.” She said, climbing up onto the bed of the truck, “I really didn’t come here to fight again.”

“Then why did you come here? It’s been a year since you told me to get out of your life for good. Why now?” He never looked up at her.

She carefully sat up on the roof, “I hated the way we left things. I would never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you and the last thing I had said to you was I hate you.”

He glanced up at her, “You don’t hate me?”

“I think you know that I don’t. I… I never could hate you.” She sighed, “Tyler, what we had was special. We both shared the same goals in life and careers. We were good together, but losing my brother changed me. All I could think about was I couldn’t lose you the same way I lost him.”

(Y/N) looked up when she felt his hand cover hers, “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“Me too.” She squeezed his hand and a spark ignited in her chest.

“Come on, I need a few hours of sleep and you can stay in my room on the extra bed. I’m sure you need some sleep as well.”

He jumped down onto the bed of the truck helping her down as well. He jumped down from the truck holding out his arms for her. His hand gripped her hips and he lifted her from the tailgate setting her on the ground. Her body slid down his and once again her body flooded with heat.

“You know I could sleep in my car or get my own room.” She said softly, looking up at him.

“Scared something might happen?” He smirked, making her roll her eyes.

Pushing him gently, “Nope. I gave up chasing cowboys a long time ago.”

“Really? Yet, you drove nearly eight hours to talk with me. Sounds to me like you might still be chasing cowboys.” He leaned down, “Or am I wrong?”

His soft lips were close to hers and his woodsy cologne filled her senses. Her knees were going to buckle if she didn’t step away from her and she would fall right back into oblivion with him.

“We can’t.” She whispered, “I can’t stand back and watch you drive into tornados not knowing if you’ll come back to me.”

His eyes softened as he backed away from her, “I understand. You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep in my truck.”

“Tyler, there’s two beds. We can share the room.” She caught his arm and felt him flinch.

He never turned to look at her, “You were always the strong one. I know I won’t be able to keep myself in control. Goodnight (Y/N).”

He walked to the driver’s side, getting in his truck. (Y/N) stood there for a moment before retreating into his room. She sat on the bed thinking about everything they had said and everything that was left unsaid between them. She loved him. She had been in love with him for nearly a decade and still was. She wanted to be by his side, but that fear of not knowing if he would come back to her kept her from doing what she wanted. The sun was peeking over the horizon when she heard the door open to the motel room.

She turned around to see Tyler staring down at her. Since she hadn’t grabbed her bag, she had opted to wear one of his white t-shirts for a night shirt. (Y/N) stood up grabbing her clothes that were on the small table.

“Sorry, I will get dressed and let you get ready.” She mumbled.

His hand grabbed her elbow, spinning her towards him, “Fuck it.”

His lips crashed to hers. Immediately, the stress and tension in her body melted as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Her back hit the mattress as Tyler began a hot trail of kisses down her neck.

“Ty-Tyler…” She moaned.

He lifted himself up, “I know, I know. We shouldn’t do this, but there is nothing in the world that I need more than you. Not storm chasing or anything. All I want is you and if this is the last time I get to be with you then so be it.”

Her heart was thumping rapidly against her chest, “You still love me?”

“Seriously?” He scoffed, “You think one little fight was going to erase you from my heart? Sweetheart, there is only one other woman I spend my time chasing other than you and that’s mother nature. There’s no one else in the world worth chasing other than you.”

She couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face, “For the record, I love you too.”

His breathtaking smile appeared and (Y/N) knew she was right where she needed to be. Tyler leaned down kissing her slowly, passionately. She was pulling his shirt off when there was a knock on his door.

“Go away!” He yelled, kissing her inner thigh.

“Tyler, we got a storm brewing just outside Bartlesville. If we hit the road now then we can beat Storm Par.” Boone’s voice was barely audible as Tyler groaned.

“Alright, we’re leaving in fifteen.” He rested his cheek against her thigh, “You think we could finish in fifteen minutes?”

She giggled, “It has been a while for both of us, but no I don’t. However, after chasing this storm we could pick up where we left off at another motel. Like the good ole days.”

“You’re staying?” he asked, helping her up and sitting her on his lap.

She nodded, “Cowboy, there’s nowhere else I would rather be than by your side.”

He kissed her again, gripping her hips tight. She moaned against his lips as she rolled her hips against him.

Tyler growled when Boone banged on his door again, “Be out in five!”

“Come on cowboy,” She kissed him, “I’m feeling it, so let's go chase it.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smacked her behind before they both got up gathering their stuff and heading out to the truck.

-----

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[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (28)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: This chapter deals with arguments with parents about lifestyle. There is also a panic attack. Viewer discretion is advised.

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). YALL. I missed the update. My bad! I thought I had updated Thursday.

You had officially fallen into Yeosang as he rode you back to the camp. He had stopped by the hotel to gather the others before they all rushed out to check on you. When they saw how tired you look, shaking each time a hiccup would rack through your body, they all chose it would be best to take a rest back at camp.

When the others saw you, they all sighed to themselves, knowing things probably hadn’t gone the best back at home. There were all one edge the moment you left them with the worry on your face. They weren’t expecting the best, but they also didn’t think you’d return them looking like you weren’t able to move. 

“Doll. Hey, it's okay.” Mingi soothed, carrying you down from Yeosang’s horse. He held you tightly to his chest. 

“No it's not. It's not okay.” You whispered out, trying your best to cling to Mingi’s body. 

He took you to Jongho’s tent, where the man had the most comfortable bedroll due to his injury. While he was able to walk on it now with crutches, he still spent the majority of the day resting. 

“What's wrong?” Hongjoong asked, with furrowed eyebrows. “What happened, Yeosang?” He turned to the boy who had brought you. 

All the others turned to listen in as well, wanting to hear the entirety of the problem. They knew at that point that it must have been something big, judging from the cut on Yeosang’s lip. The boy hadn’t gotten the chance to wipe it clean, but it stopped bleeding at that point. 

“I don't know.” Yeosang sighed. “I heard yelling when I was coming back and saw her run out. Her father was trying to pull her back in, but she yelled for me.” 

Yeosang looked away from the boys, glancing towards your body curling up next to Jongho who made room for you. The younger boy was quick to place his arm under your head, one arm moving to rub at your own. 

Mingi took up the spot behind you, he himself felt pathetic. He was reminded of the attack you had the night he saved you. He felt like he couldn’t help you much now, exactly how he felt back then. Not only that, but he knew you didn’t ask for anything else other than just his arms around you, so he wanted to at least give you something to feel other than the nerves moving through your body.

“I'm assuming her talk didn't go so well.” San spoke, sitting down next to Jongho. 

“Come here.” Seonghwa told Yeosang, pulling on his arm. “Let me clean up your lip.”

Seonghwa pulled the boy outside the tent, allowing him to follow to the main tent, where they had most of the supplies. San turned back to you, rubbing at your legs to get your feeling back. It seemed to have helped, as the last of your hiccups took a while to come back. Though you had stopped crying and could move your limbs normally, you still felt sluggish. 

“Darling.” San quietly called. “Have you calmed down?” You shook your head, moving from Jongho’s side in order to have room to allow all the bad energy to flow out. 

“That's wonderful.” San smiled, causing one to softly form on your lips. “It's okay. We aren't gonna pry until you're ready.” He told you, still giving you a message. 

Seonghwa and Yeosang had entered once more, the younger man having the blood cleaned from the mouth finally. Seonghwa had put some ointment on it to have it heal faster. When Yeosang saw you uncurled from your fetal position, he sighed out in relief. Looking over the boys, he frowned as he thought about what had just happened. 

“There's something I need to tell you.” He spoke to Hongjoong. The blue haired man turned around, waiting for Yeosang to continue. “I asked for her hand in marriage.”

They all froze as Yeosang’s words caught in their ears. 

“What?” Almost every one had said. 

“I know we talked about this, but we didn't say anything about marrying her!?” Wooyoung cried out. “Are you going back on this whole thing? Do you want to keep her to yourself?” He pointed his finger at Yeosang. 

“Wooyoung, will you be quiet!” Yeosang scolded. “Her parents thought she was a prostitute.” He sighed, looking down. “I'm positive that's what this entire thing was about. I was so angry that they would assume something like that of her. So I just told them I asked for her hand in marriage to keep them from thinking she's with multiple men.”

You sat up from your spot, feeling the two boys at your side get up behind you as well. You could feel Mingi’s arm around the front of your waist, rubbing his thumb into your side. You could see how all the boys seemed to have dark looks wash over their face at the mention of what your parents had done. San’s finger squeezed your leg in reassurance, his lips pulling up to show he was on your side. 

There was a heaviness you knew was there due to how heavy the words Yeosang spoke were. All of you knew the struggle of coming to terms with how you felt about all of them. Heck, they hadn’t even spoken about it with you. They had no clue if you were going to be willing completely to everything. 

They knew all that you had spoken to with some of them–knew what you had done. But that didn’t mean you felt the same about all of them. Even if you expressed you meant all of them, each feel you had for them might be different from the next. 

Hongjoong sighed, though, shaking his head. “Yeosang, it's her family and we have to respect whatever it is she chooses.” You turned to the man, frowning. “Having this kind of relationship isn't easy, especially not for women.”

You played with your fingers as you listened to what he had to say.

“If she wants to please her family, then we have to accept that. We can't just come up with her choice.” He spoke. 

Your head immediately whipped up, speaking before thinking. “I'll choose you guys.”

“Angel-” Yunho sighed. 

“I don't want to be a wife to someone who wants to keep me in a house or tell me to be quiet.” You started. You sighed deeply as you looked between all of them. 

“I grew up with people always telling me what I did and thought wasn't right. That I was meant to be a housewife who took care of children and kept her husband happy.” You pulled your legs to cross them, placing a hand on Mingi’s to keep it there. 

He gave you comfort–they all did. And you wanted them to know that. 

“It was what I was thinking was going to happen to me for the longest time. But then you guys came into town after a fight with criminals, and things just changed completely.” You began to smile, lip trembling as you thought about that first night you actually spoke them like friends. 

“I knew I wasn't meant to be stuck in a house. I was meant for so much more than that. I want to explore so many things and see the world. That's what I really want. And it was all of you who made me realize that.” Each of them started smiling at your words, some of them blushing and looking flustered. 

“My father was going to send me to Aurora to some kind of big group that would help me to become the perfect wife.” You finally told them. “I don't want to go.” You whispered, looking down. 

You felt Mingi tighten his hold on your waist. San gave your leg a squeeze as well. Jongho moved to intertwine his fingers with yours. You gave them all a smile, turning to look at the boys in front of you. 

Wooyoung had a large grin on his face as his cheeks looked red. Seonghwa and Yunho both gave you soft looks, while Yeosang crossed his arms, nodding his head towards you. 

Hongjoong crouched down in front of you, moving to rub your cheek with his thumb. “You won't go, Princess.” He assured you. “We won't let you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered to him, a blush blooming on your cheeks. It made Hongjoong grin, giving your cheek another stroke. 

“What happens now?” San asked from Hongjoong’s side. 

“I guess Yeosang has to get hitched.” Wooyoung cackled, harshly patting the boy on the back. 

You watched as Hongjoong stood up, his grin pulling over his teeth. He turned to face Yeosang, who raised a brow. 

“Congratulations.” He laughed. 

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysockss , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa11177 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclairr , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 6: I'd Live And Die For Moments That We Stole

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy?

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author's Note: so ttpd was released while writing this, and oh my god some of the songs on there work a little to well with either this fic or arthur morgan in general

also was not expecting so much attention from the ghoul fic and i will continue to write for him, i just still want to work on this too!

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay

Chapter List

Hans was home for three and a half weeks. 

Your days were either spent alone in your house, Hans shutting himself in his office, or out on the town, heading to dinners, plays, movies, and miscellaneous events that you hardly remembered. It was always a blur to you, anyway. 

You’d only caught glimpses of Arthur throughout the past weeks. He’d sometimes be roaming the streets of the cities you were in, keeping his distance, but you’d always feel his watchful eye on you. It made those days better, knowing that in a way he was by your side. 

If Hans noticed the extra eyes watching the two of you, more specifically you, he didn’t say anything. He still acted the same, attentive and loving husband in the public eye, cold and disdainful behind closed doors. It was exhausting, but you pushed through. 

The two of you had been at a party all night, your feet ached and the muscles of your face were strained from smiling so much. You had just walked into your house, around midnight, and you were exhausted. Hans had immediately retired upstairs, and you followed after him, getting ready for bed in your closet.

 You pulled off your dress, the fabric itchy and uncomfortable, and you had slipped into your nightgown. Slipping into bed beside Hans, you fell asleep rather quickly, and the night passed dreamlessly, much to your disappointment. 

You woke up alone, which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was that he didn't come down for breakfast, not responding when you called for him. When you knocked on his office door, there was no response. Confused, you peered outside, pleasantly shocked to find the carriage missing. He’d never just left like that; there was always some sort of heads up, and he always requested your company in bed.

You were nowhere near upset, though, and you gleefully cleaned up the kitchen. You spent the next few days in your garden, luckily not as wrecked as it was the first time, your planters holding up well. 

It was the third night when you heard a knock on your door, and you couldn’t help the giddy smile on your face as you bolted to the door. You didn’t have to look through the peephole to know who was there, and you opened the door quickly. 

There was Arthur Morgan on the other side of your door, hair longer than you remembered, but that same dazzling grin on his face. 

You stood there, not quite shocked, but your brain was still unsure of how to react. Your body knew, though, and you nearly tackled him to the ground with the force of your hug, arms wrapping around his neck. 

He wasn’t expecting your reaction, a startled whoa leaving him, but he immediately reciprocated the hug, like he needed this just as badly as you did. You sagged into his arms, a breath you’d been holding for the last three and a half weeks finally being released. Resting your head on his chest, that comforting smell of him made you smile. Oh, how you missed him. 

“I missed ya too, darlin’,” he chuckled, and you tilted your head back to look up at him. It was adorable, the way his ears turned red, flustered by your sheer adoration of him. 

You snuck a hand up into his hair, combing through the longer strands that stuck out from beneath his hat. He sighed under your touch, his eyes threatening to flutter close. “It’s so long now,” you muttered more to yourself, and you watched him raise a brow. 

“I just keep forgettin’ to cut it,” he admitted.

“I ain’t complainin’,'' you laughed. “It suits you.”

He just hummed noncommittally, and the two of you stood in silence, simply taking in the presence of the other. You saw the way his eyes flicked down to your lips and then back up. The motion was quick, like he was unsure if you’d want him to kiss you again, if you thought the last time had been a mistake. 

You didn’t give him a chance to get lost in his thoughts, standing up on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his. His beard was longer than last time, too. It was less of a stubble and more of a soft layer of hair, and it tickled less than last time. 

He smiled, barely able to contain his relief, and you felt him cup the side of your face, bringing your face back for a proper kiss. When his lips slotted against yours, you reconfirmed your belief from the first time; he truly did feel like home.

“I really did miss you,” you whispered out once the kiss broke. 

“I’m here now. Unfortunate for you,” he chuckled, and you slapped him lightly on the chest. 

“Hush, Arthur,” you admonished, shaking your head. “C’mon, let's get inside.”

It took a few moments for you two to release each other, and you took his hand once you stepped apart, leading him into the house. You didn’t even have to ask before he was taking off his boots, and you were dragging him upstairs. 

The implications of what you were doing were lost to you as you brought him upstairs, but you heard Arthur mutter your name, confused but not completely against the idea.

“For the life of me, I can’t get into his office,” you explained. “I ain’t got the skills you do.”

“And I do? Quite rude of you to assume.”

You scoffed, sparing him a disbelieving look. “Arthur, did you forget how we met?”

By this time you’d reached the top of the stairs, standing outside the locked office door. Excitement caused your heart to race, not ready for what you might possibly find in the office. Even though you were raised to not be a snoop, it was quite fun digging into peoples personal items, and it was especially fun when said personal items belong to your husband. 

“Fair enough,” Arthur conceded, and he pulled a few items out of his pocket, tools you assumed he was going to use to pick the lock. “This’ll just take a sec.”

Arthur got down on his knees in front of the door, and you watched as he fiddled with the tools, silently listening for something. You had no idea what he was doing, but it was quite fascinating to watch. Besides, you got to appreciate the way hands flexed and fingers moved as he worked the lock.

It was less than thirty seconds before he was standing up, a small yet proud smirk on his face. “It… it’s that easy?”

Arthur laughed at that. “Nah, it was unlocked.”

“You’re fuckin’ kidding.” 

He stared at you blankly before laughing again. “You shoulda seen your face. Yes, I’m kiddin’.”

“Arthur Morgan!” That just made him laugh harder, and you cherished the sound, locking it away in your brain. You joined in, chucklining lightly. “You bastard,” you teased. 

“Sorry,” he replied, not sounding sorry at all “I had to. Forgive me.” 

You shook your head, leaning against the wall. “I don’t.”

“Then what do I gotta do to earn your forgiveness, darlin’?” He moved toward you, brushing his fingers over the apple of your cheek, tucking away hair that wasn’t there.

“I could think of a few ways,” you murmured, not so subtly looking at his plush lips. 

Grinning, he didn’t bother responding before kissing you, hat knocking into your head. “Am I forgiven now?”

You snuck in one last quick peck before responding. “I guess.”

“I’ll take that.”

He held your face for a few moments longer, eyes sparkling with adoration. His expression then sobered, and he shoved the tools back into his pocket, removing his hand and setting it on the doorknob. “You ready?”

You took his other hand, nodding, and he held the door open for you as you stepped into his office for the first time.

It was way messier than you expected. Stacks of books and piles of paper seemed to loom over you; one stray gust of air could topple it all down. There were high shelves lining one of the walls, filled floor to ceiling with different books, knicknacks, and various loose papers stuck between the books. A large oak desk stood in the middle, a large leather chair tucked in, equally as covered with papers, and various splotches of ink had long since dried into the wood.

There weren’t any windows, making the room stuffy, and you could feel the dust tickling your nose. You were left speechless, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with the amount of stuff in front of you. “How…” you managed to let out, and Arthur just shook his head. 

He made his way to the desk, your hands still intertwined, and he began to shuffle through the papers, spreading them around on the desk. His eyes danced around the papers, and he let out a sigh, nothing sticking out to him. You opened the drawers, only seeing junk and even more paper. 

You were about to shut the final one before a rectangular shape caught your eye. Pulling it out, you set it on the desk, the book automatically falling open. Leaning in to investigate further, you realized it was a ledger book of sorts, but everything was written in shorthand or codes, indecipherable to you. 

“The hell?” Arthur murmured, just as confused as you were. “This even English?”

“Maybe?” You flipped the pages, the words changing but still not understandable. “I mean, it’s obviously a ledger, but that’s all I can tell.”

When you flipped a few more pages the same thing happened, you sighed. “I thought it would’ve been that easy, just finding the ledger book and having everything you needed to know be right there.”

“It usually is. Criminals ain’t the smartest sometimes.” Arthur pulled out the chair and sat in it. You sat on the arm rest, leaning against Arthur a bit, your foot still holding most of your weight. “Let’s see here…”

Arthur looked through the papers on the desk again, and you were able to catch glimpses of what they were; they were a mix of receipts, letters, and various documentation. There were a few names, none of which you recognized, and you watched Arthur scribble them down into his notebook. 

“I think that should be good for now.”

You weren’t going to lie, you had spaced out a bit while scanning over the various documents, the writing quickly turning to a blur in your eyes. You jumped when Arthur stood, nearly causing you to topple over, but you felt him secure you with a hand on your waist. “Already?” You asked.

“I’ve got a few names’ I’ll see where they lead.” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t wanna spend too much time in here, anyway.” To prove his point, he led you out of the office, shutting the door behind you. 

“Then why’d you come over?”

“Ouch.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you chuckled.

“Will you ever believe that I come over just to see you?”

“Probably not.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and began to lead you back downstairs. “Where you takin’ me?” You asked, and he didn’t respond, getting his shoes on and leaving the house. “Arthur?”

“You’ll see,” was all he said, not letting go of your hand as you descended the stairs. 

“What’re we doin’?”

Arthur sighed. “Have you ever heard of a surprise?” 

The familiar form of Bear caught your eye, and you made a noise to get his attention. It worked, the horse flicking its head towards you, nickering excitedly as you and Arthur approached. 

“Hello, Bear!” You let go of Arthur’s hand, striding over to the horse happily. You missed how affectionately Arthur looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he watched you. “How’s my favorite boy doin’?”

“That’s the second time I’ve been insulted by you today.”

You ran one of your hands on his snout, the other patting his neck. “Ignore him, Bear. He’s grumpy.” You rambled out praises to the horse, and his eyes visibly relaxed, practically pressing himself into your hands. “Such a good boy, Bear.”

You felt his lips on your neck first, the soft beard barely tickling your skin. His arms were next, wrapping over yours, keeping you pressed close to his chest. “What did I say ‘bout spoilin’ my horse, darlin’?” He rocked with you side to side, occasionally pressing his lips against your skin. 

“He deserves it,” you giggled. “He always brings you back to me.”

Arthur stilled. “I… I suppose you’re right.”

“I am right.” You broke the tension that threatened to form with a verbal jab, and Arthur chuckled. 

His arms released your body, but he kept his hands on you, trailing them over your arms, and then settling on your hips. “You ready?”

“Sure, but you-”

Arthur cut you off by grasping your waist, lifting you effortlessly and setting you on the back of Bear. A startled cry left your lips, and you glared at Arthur once he set you down. “A warning next time?” You tried to not seem as freaked out as you were, clutching at the saddle in front of you for some sense of stability. 

“I did,” he responded, chuckling when your glare returned. When he got into the saddle in front of you, you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, clinging on to him. “You good?” He asked, concern in his voice.

“I…” you felt ashamed to admit to him, “I ain’t been on a horse in… years. Not since I was a little kid.”

“Bear’s a good horse. He’s never bucked me off, if you’re afraid of that.”

You exhaled shakily, your head resting on his back. “Alright, just don’t expect me to let go.”

“I’ll never complain ‘bout your hands on me,” he almost proudly admitted, and in response you just tighten your grip. “Ready?” He asked again.

“Yes.” You didn’t bother asking what you were doing again, knowing you weren’t going to get an answer. 

Arthur kicked his heel lightly, giving Bear the go ahead to start moving. You refrained from gripping on to him tighter, not wanting to choke the poor man, and you watched the scenery begin to move past you. Arthur kept a slower pace, no doubt a pace he normally wouldn’t ride at, but his consideration towards you had you melting. 

Even though most of the wind was blocked by Arthur’s frame, you still felt it grace your skin, hair streaming behind you. It felt nice, not too chilly, and it helped you relax.

It took a few moments for you to lift your head from his back, your arms loosening, settling lightly on his waist. “Alright?” He asked, the wind not loud enough to overpower his voice yet. 

“I think so. Are… are you gonna tell me yet?”

“Do you trust me?” Interesting response, you thought. 

“Of course.”

“Then trust me when I say you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re no fun,” you teased, feeling comfortable enough to remove one of your hands from his waist, flicking the back of his hat.

Arthur grumbled something, but you could hear his smile. 

He rode on for a few minutes, and you took the time to just absorb the beautiful scenery around you. It was much more enjoyable to look at when you weren’t crammed into a stuffy carriage with a miserable man. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a large stag, hidden between the bushes. His head followed the both of you as you passed, but it quickly turned when a doe approached him from one of the bushes. You didn’t get to point them out to Arthur before they were scampering away, the stag following the doe into the thicket, the sound of branches snapping the only proof of their existence.  

You truly had no idea where Arthur was taking you, your attention focusing back on the road. He had returned to the main road, sure, but he wasn’t heading in the direction of any major towns. The thick woodland had turned sparse, making way for rolling hills of grass with the occasional flower, with flocks of animals out enjoying the incredible weather. 

As Arthur continued the slow pace, you began to feel antsy, and you were also feeling a bit brace. “You can go faster,” you leaned forward to tell him, and he looked over at you. 

“Yeah?”

When you made a comfiring noise, he grinned, looking positively excited. It made him look so young, so carefree, and you couldn’t help but grin in response. 

Securing your grip back around him, he urged Bear on more, who was more than happy to comply. A startled laugh left you as Bear went faster, your smile widening, wind whipping against your body. It was exhilarating, but you needed more. 

“Faster!” You had to start shouting a bit, the wind becoming more intense. 

Arthur shook his head, chuckling, and you watched him spur Bear on again. He broke into a gallop, the world around you becoming a blur. You don’t think you’ve ever moved this fast in your life, and it was incredible. Laughing joyfully, you felt Arthur do the same, leading Bear along the road with small pulls on the reigns.

You’re not sure how long you two tore through the countryside, but it felt like no time had passed before Arthur was bringing Bear to a trot. You were still laughing, brushing back your hair which you were sure was a complete mess, but you didn’t care.

Artur led you off the main road, leading you up a large yet gradual hill. The top was completely flat, with only a few dry bushes and patches of grass interrupting the stone. A few small rodents looked at you curiously, before retreating to their burrows. 

Dismounting, Arthur didn’t secure Bear to anything, but you knew that he trusted him to not run off. After swinging your leg over, Arthur helped you down, holding you even when your feet hit the ground. Something flashed over his face as he watched you catch your breath, the wide grin on your lips never ceasing. His thumb rubbed into your skin where he held you on your waist, which didn’t help to calm down your racing heart. 

“Good?” 

You nodded. “I’m wonderful. That was… that was incredible. You get to do that every day?” You asked, something similar to envy in your voice.

“If you ever want to take him out for a ride, just let me know. I think Bear’d love that.”

You glanced back at the horse, who was watching you expectantly. Laughing slightly, you left the comforting hold of Arthur, patting Bear's neck. Arthur moved beside you, grabbing something fabric looking from the saddlebags, as well as a bottle of what assumed to be liquor. He extended an arm for you, and you gladly took it, linking your arm with his. It was similar to the way Hans would have you on his arm, showing you off almost like an accessory. This felt different, though, like it always did with Arthur. 

You shook the thoughts of your husband out of your mind; right now was about you and Arthur. He led you to the edge of the hill, and you let out a gasp at the view. You were able to see what felt like the entirety of The Heartlands, rolling fields of grass as far as the eye could see. Mountains dotted the skyline, and you could see a few small towns littered about. Hoards of different animals grazed, from bison to deer to turkeys. 

So enthralled by the view in front of you, you hadn’t noticed Arthur laying out a blanket beside you, until he tugged lightly at your arm. He pulled you down to a seated position, sitting behind you so you could rest your back against him. His arms immediately wrapped around you when you did, pressing a kiss to your cheek before settling his head on your shoulder, watching the landscape with you.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, and you heard Arthur humm in agreement. “How’d you find this?”

“I was huntin’, and I was tracking somethin’ that led me up here. As soon as I saw it I knew I had to bring you here.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Arthur thought of you while he was out on his travels. “You think ‘bout me a lot, Arthur Morgan?” You teased, pushing away a feeling you were too scared to name still. 

“All the damn time,” he admitted, an airy laugh leaving him and tickling your ear. “You know that.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just like hearin’ you say it.”

Arthur didn’t respond, just holding you like you were a lifeline, and you found that you could spend the rest of your life wrapped up in his arms. Eventually, conversation started between the two of you, catching the other up on what had transpired over the last few weeks, the liquor bottle Arthur brough being uncorked and passed between the two of you. It was a decent tasting whiskey, but you only took a few sips, not wanting to have this moment be clouded over with fuzziness. 

His arms had stayed wrapped around you for most of the time, but over the past hour had slowly let up, choosing to run his fingers over your body instead. It started with small touches on your side, before trialing up and down your arms and legs, to up your shoulder, brushing against your neck. It was like he was trying to memorize your body simply with his touch.

Every time he brushed over a sensitive area of your body, you’d shiver, and he’d smile, changing the infliction of his voice if he was speaking. It was hard to stay focused, either on his words or your own story. 

This was the fifth time you’d trailed off while you were speaking, and you laughed, resting your head back. “You’re distractin’ me.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Never.”

Arthur chuckled, and you felt those calloused fingers brush over your arms again, moving down to your hands. “Can’t help myself. Beautiful woman in my arms, it’d be a crime not to touch her.”

You’re sure your cheeks were dangerously warm. “Well, she ain’t complainin’,” you breathed out, and you felt his hands rest on the back of your, fingers weaving into yours. 

“You ain’t wearin’ your ring.” He sounded like he was almost in disbelief. 

You glanced down at your left hand, his much larger once encapsulating it. You’d taken it off a day ago, setting it in your nightstand. You’re not quite sure why you did it, but it felt like fifty pounds had been lifted off you when you took it off. “No, I ain’t.”

His right hand grasped your chin, turning your face towards his, which continued to rest on your shoulder. Pure longing was written across his face, but his lips were possessive when they made contact with yours. The grasp shifted from your chin to the side of your face, fingers tracing patterns into your cheeks. It pulled you in closer to him, but you needed him closer. You needed to feel him. 

You shifted so that you were facing him, hands bracing on his chest. You felt him sigh when your hands traveled up, over his neck and tanging into his hair. His hat hit the ground behind him, and he pulled you into his lap, your lips never separating once. The new angle had you leaning above him slightly, your hands in his hair pulling his head back, but he didn’t mind. 

You had forgotten what it was like to be kissed with so much passion, so much energy, and you couldn’t help but admit to yourself what you’d been trying to bury for weeks: you were in love with him. 

It made you gasp, pulling away from the kiss and resting your head against his. It wasn’t that you were against the fact that you were in love with him. But you had no idea if he felt the same. You knew he cared about you, there was no denying that, but was he in love with you? Knowing what kind of life Arthur lived, you didn’t see him as the committal type, not wanting to be bound to a person or place. 

He took you pulling away as you needing a moment to breathe, smiling gently at you. A large hand cupped the side of your face, and you melted into his touch, like you could respond any other way.

You debated just confessing to him right there, but anxiety welded your mouth close. Instead, you opted to just kiss him again, quick but no less lovely.

Sitting back on his lap, the sun was beginning to disappear below the horizon, just behind Arthur. The lighting made him look ethereal, brown hair golden, and you’re sure you were staring at him like a lovestruck fool. “You’re so beautiful,” you sighed out, laughing a bit when he looked away embarrassed. 

“Shouldn’t I be sayin’ that to you?”

“You already have. It’s my turn.”

He chuckled, still not believing what you were saying, but he was humoring you. “Alright, darlin’, how much whiskey did you have?”

You were drunk on something much better than the whiskey, that’s for sure. “I mean it, Arthur. You’re gorgeous.”

It was clear that he still didn’t believe you, but he thanked you anyway, kissing you lightly again. Resting your head on his shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his broad body, holding him in a embrace. 

You sat in Arthur’s lap for a good while, simply holding each other, and you felt the occasion kiss on your head. The two of you didn’t feel the need to talk, and you got lost in the sound of Arthur’s breathing. 

The sun had set, and as it left so did its warmth, cool night air hitting your body. You shivered, Arthur’s body heat doing nothing to protect your back from the cold. “As lovely as this is, I’d hate for you to get sick,” you heard Arthur murmur, and you hated that he was right. You didn’t want to leave, but you knew you’d regret it if you didn’t. 

“Alright,” you huffed out, untangling yourself from him, which just made you more cold. Standing up, you grabbed his hat for him as he stood, and you placed it atop his head. He grinned up at you, grabbing the blanket and draping it over his arm, extending the other for you again. 

Just like he had led you up the hill, he led you down to where Bear was resting, his ears flicking happily when he saw the two of you approaching. You gave him a few pats before Arthur lifted you on to his rump, and even then you were sure to murmur to him. Arthur handed you the blanket, and you wrapped it around your shoulders, keeping it secure between your two bodies once he joined you on Bear. 

As he took off, one of his hands went back to rest on your thigh, like he was making sure that you were still with him. Like you’d want to be anywhere else. And if someone tried to take you away, then you’d fight like a cornered animal to get back. 

The ride back was different at night; scenery that was once peaceful and comforting now becoming foreign and terrifying. Arthur went quick, not as quickly as before, but fast enough that said terrifying scenery went by fast. 

The ride felt shorter than you wished, the familiar sight of your house causing you to sigh, holding on to Arthur a tad bit tighter than what was necessary. 

Pulling up to the porch, he dismounted quickly, helping you down again. You were sure to leave the blanket on Bear, giving him a goodnight pat before climbing the stairs, Arthur following behind. 

You lingered in the doorway after he held the door open for you, an invitation for him to come in on the tip of your tongue. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say them, not wanting to scare him away. So you just smiled at him, kissing him lightly on the cheek. 

“Wait,” you heard him say before you were about to wish him a good night, “I’ve got somethin’ for you.”

Curious, you cocked your head as he dug into his satchel,pulling out a torn out piece of paper. “Read it when you get inside,” he instructed as he handed it to you. 

“Should I be worried?” You joked.

“Nah,” he chuckled. “Just… you’ll see when you read it.”

Well, now you were excited. “Okay…” you laughed, before kissing him for the final time that night. “I had an amazin’ day today, so thank you. Sincerely.”

“Of course, darlin’. Have a good night.”

“‘Night, Arthur. Come back to me, okay?” 

He nodded, tilting his hat at you, stepping down the porch. In the back of your mind, you remembered the lessons you’d had in the backyard with Arthur, learning how to shoot and gun. You remembered that today you were supposed to learn how to reload it, but it had completely slipped from your mind until now. You let it pass again, though. There was always next time.

You stood in the doorway until Arthur was long gone, clutching the note to your chest. When you finally retreated inside, you sighed happily, still caught up in the trance that the night had been. 

Sitting on the couch, you looked over the small piece of paper, clearly torn from his journal. There was an address scrawled across the top in that familiar messy cursive, some place in the state of Ambarino. It didn’t make much sense to you, so you read the following note left by Arthur, which started with your name. 

It took a bit of asking around, but I was able to find the new address of the Van Buren estate. From what I can tell, they’re doing well. It wouldn’t be a bad time to reach out, if and only if you feel ready.

- A

There was something scribbled out before his name, like he was planning on writing sincerely or something like that, but he must’ve deemed it too formal for a note like this. 

You sat there, shocked, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at the note. Two years of no contact with your family was almost over. It was so close. 

Leaning back against the couch, you held the note back to your chest, thanking the heavens for Arthur. There was no denying it now; you were so in love with him.

[charmingpplincardigans]

Hello! The last real post I made here was *checks notes* mid-February. And good news! My brain has absolutely not gotten better! I'm still having trouble reaching out to people and connecting with folks. Only now my back has also joined the party and I end most days in excruciating pain for the crime of sitting at a computer desk or running an errand! Fun times!

I'm not really here to complain though. I miss...pretty much everyone, but you guys included. Think I might test out trying to be back on here more instead of just playing phone games for hours on end while the mac wheel in my brain spins. So in the spirit of getting back into it, here are some updates:

Work continues to not pay me enough to live, which is a shame because I've started a few research initiatives I would love to see through and my boss remains the best. Still looking for a new job and getting very close to the October date when I told the grand boss I'd take any job that paid me enough.

Couldn't afford to go to Con this year, so I went to see my friend and her babies instead. They're walking, which they weren't doing when I last saw them in May and I'm positive that by the next time I get down there they'll be speaking in full sentences.

Went to a cool multi-media live Cowboy Bebop concert for my birthday and it was So Cool. The band rocked.

They Maythem moved in with us. They and I are watching through Star Trek: TOS because I'd never seen it. The two of us and Kait are watching through the X-Files, another thing I'd never seen.

I've taken on the job of cooking every night now since neither Kait nor Liz has a great time doing it and I love it, so long as my back doesn't seize up. I find cooking and baking and doing the grocery run to be meditative and calming, so it's nice to be given the freedom to just find new things to make and go for it.

Unfortunately in the other direction I have made no art or done any writing since the pain became an issue, but I continue to make plans to create.

Anyway, the biggest and most important news deserves its own post, so I'll do that next. I just wanted to sat hi, I hope you're all doing okay. I'm sending love even when I'm not here, but maybe I'll be around a little more to remind you. We'll see how life goes, which is all we can do, I think.

[moeitsu]

♡The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee♡

(Arthur Morgan x OC) Masterlist

Hey cowboys!

Below is where you'll find all the chapters to my Red Dead Redemption fanfic, I will keep it updated as I continue to post more chapters. But in the meantime, I wanted to make things a little more organized and easier for you to navigate.

Whether you just started reading, or if you've been keeping up with the story since the beginning. I want to thank you! This started as a little side project to keep me busy during my down time at work, but it's turned into something I'm really passionate and proud of! So thank you for all the support <3

!!Please be aware this fic is explicit. As it contains blood/violence, as well as other adult themes!!

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->-> Ao3 

->-> Wattpad

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places.

Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

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Ch 1 - The Years Creep Slowly By Kate becomes entangled in a heist with two strangers, Hosea and Arthur, forging an unexpected bond amidst their criminal endeavor. Ch 2 - The Snow Is On The Grass Again A fisher of men and A strange encounter. Ch 3 - The Suns Low Down The Sky Welcome to Horseshoe Overlook Ch 4 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been It's time to collect a debt. Ch 5 - My Heart Beats On As Warmly Now A well deserved hunt with Charles, met with an unexpected surprise back at camp... Ch 6 - As When The Summer Days Were Nigh The battle begins, and the past is revealed. Ch 7 - The Sun Can Never Dip So Low Kate is not immune to the dangers of the land. No matter how much she loved it, the land will never love her back. Ch 8 - Or Down Affections Cloudless Sky A blissful sunny day after a long hard night. Ch 9 - A Hundred Months Have Passed Kate and Arthur share a tender moment in the quiet of the night. Ch 10 - Since Last I Held That Hand In Mine The Course of True Love and other Revelations Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire. Ch 12 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 1 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God in a world that is ugly with violence and hate. Ch 13 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 2 Arthur’s life is ebbing out like the tide. Kate must work quickly and diligently to reverse the cruel hands of fate. She is aided by the help of an unexpected ally. Ch 14 - A Hundred Months ‘Twas Flowery May As Kate navigates Arthur’s recovery, she discovers that true strength lies within her trusted companions, finding relief in their unwavering support during the trials of his healing journey. Ch 15 - When Up The Hilly Slope We Climbed Arthur struggles to adjust to his new disabilities. Meanwhile Kate finds a job outside of camp for them, providing a few days respite and some much needed alone time. Arthur finally reveals his feelings. Ch 16 - The Past Is The Eternal Past Kate and Arthur welcome a new life into the world. The scene brings back tender memories of Arthur's past, he finally finds the courage to open up to her about his family. Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of The Day Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again. Ch 18 - To Hear the Distant Church Bells Chime The gang finds a new hideout at Shady Belle, just outside the heart of the new modern America. With Jack still missing, Kate and Arthur must work together to find him. Amidst the tension, Arthur confides in Kate about his deepest regrets. Ch 19 - We Loved Each Other Then The Gilded Cage. Kate and Arthur attend an exclusive garden party hosted by the Mayor of Saint Denis. As the night progresses, their mutual desire intensifies.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━ If you're interested in reading about my OC, I linked the Kate McCanon Lore here :) As well as her Face and Voice Claim here <3 About me!

[lunarthecorvus]

Post Crooked Kingdom Canon Compliant fanfiction recommendations part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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Vol. 1: Council of Thieves by lizaudreys

Wordcount: 122,891 Chapters: 45/45 (part of a series and is continued afterwards)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Tags: BAMF Inej Ghafa, Fluff and Angst, Jesper Fahey Has ADHD, Kaz Brekker Needs a Hug, Crime Children, Five Years Later, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn

Author's summary/notes: Five years after the Auction, the Crows have gone their separate ways. That is, until the Council of Tides demands that Kaz Brekker help rescue one of their newest initiates. Grisha all over are being targeted by ships disguised as slavers, rumors of a new form of jurda parem are spreading, and the fate of it all is yet again dependent on an unlikely gang of criminals. My summary/notes: Some fascinating council of tides lore, and the side/original characters in this fic are so interesting. Be prepared this fic has some wesper angst and some definite kanej angst, but there are some adorable moments. Goes into the crows friendships, especially Jesper + Inej and Kaz and Wylan (it does go into more dynamics). To finish it I will say there is a sort of ⊹hiest⊹.

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and you asked me to dance, but I said "dancing is a dangerous game" by sarathedreamer

Wordcount: 28,439 Chapters: 5/5

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey, Prince Ilya

Tags: Fluff and Angst, Fluff without Plot, Healing, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Post-Book 2: Rule of Wolves, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant ish

Author's summary/notes: “My darling Inej," he started in a very proper intonation, "treasure of my heart, feared Wraith of the Barrel, Scourge of the Seas, Bringer of Justice and Slayer of Men… would you like to dance with me?" Inej, Kaz, Wylan and Jesper get a very important invitation to the betrothal celebration of a certain Nina Zenik... angst, fluff, and yes, dancing, ensues between the King of the Barrel and the Queen of the Seas. This is part two of my kanej x cowboy like me series! I would highly recommend reading part one first before you dive into this :) Spoilers for RoW and obviously the Soc duology. Most of this is canon compliant because I love to play by the rules (except that we forget about the last two pages of Rule of Wolves for the sake of fluff and angst only... hehe) My summary/notes: Part of the kanej x cowboy like me series, which is such a good series, if you want kanej fluff then that is the series for you. This fic is Inej and Kaz being head over heels with each other for 5 chapters straight, featuring some wesper and Nina. May I intrigue you into this reading this fic by saying it has Kanej flirting and Captain Ghafa. Also THEY DANCE.

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Dealing With Our Demons by @ravenyenn19

Wordcount: 807,697 Chapters: 174/? (updates generally every few months)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Nina Zenik, Wylan Van Eck, (as well as many other original characters and six of crows side characters)

Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, POV Kaz Brekker, BAMF Inej Ghafa, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Eventual Smut

Author's summary/notes: Inej's first letter back to Kaz after she leaves on her journey to hunt slavers, reunion ensues! Will they continue to learn how to battle their demons in order to get close to one another? My summary/notes: A classic Kanej fic, almost every Kanej fanfic reader knows this fic, the writing is impeccable. This fic made me fall in love with both Anika and Pim and then Pimika. To me this fic is canon. Now for a summary, this fic take you on a journey of healing and growing with both Kaz and Inej. You will come out of this fic a changed person.

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter's ficrec Fridays

Back for my second week of fics I've read and loved recently, as well as a couple of throw backs. If you missed last week's you can find it here for more!

12 January 2024

Altitude by enochianprayer (@chapeldean, art by @hornystiel here and @naughtystiel here) is a wintery delight, in which Dean is a seasonal worker in a mountain lodge and Castiel is a hiker who's passing through. Enchanted by their brief encounter with each other, Dean can't get Cas out of his head, and Cas' questioning leads him to find something holy in the revelations he stumbles upon at the lodge. Sweet and romantic, wild and wandering, cosy and brave.

boy leave your boots by the bed by an_ardent_rain (@alulangel) is a post-canon fix it, a smutty cowboy kink (shh yes this WILL be a recurring theme on my rec lists), wish fulfilment fic for the spn bang bang with one of my favourite tropes of Dean and Cas going on little dates without really realising they're going on little dates, whilst pining. Plus absolutely wonderful banter:

Cas squints and ignores that.  “Technically, you could say that this heaven is still ‘in beta’ now,” he says, and he uses the air quotes and it’s so adorable Dean bites the swell of a bottom lip to hold in a fond smile.  Cas is, as always, a giant dork.  “But we are soliciting feedback.”

“Yeah, you got a heavenly suggestion box?  Hotline for complaints?  Five stars, would die and spend eternity here again?”

“There are… more than five stars, Dean.”

Sweet Science by emmbrancsxx0, (@valleydean) is now complete, a 12 days of smutmas challenge continuation to the incredible destiel 1930s boxing au Heavyweight. Cas and Dean are on a romantic winter retreat to get out of the spotlight against the backdrop of the burgeoning economic depression in New York, both seeing the boxing world become harder to maintain a living. With Cas secretly planning to retire, and not yet letting on to Dean, can they navigate their future whilst still maintaining their hard fought for trust? I love these guys so much and am so glad to be back in their world.

The Root of this Love by kathscradle is for all the bearded!Misha fans. May he have survived the acrylic paint incident. The very short and sweet and sexy premise: Cas is hairy, now that he’s human. Dean can’t get a grip on himself. (But he sure can get a grip on Cas!) Smutty body hair celebration and body worship.

Just Being and Just Having by Englandwouldfall is the post-canon fic series I drop everything to read every time there's a new update. It delves so incredibly beautifully into Dean and Cas' history of miscommunication and gives them the chance to truly talk things out, finding themselves falling more deeply in love as they do so and understand their own mistakes but also what makes them work so well together when they're no longer under Chuck's thumb. Each chapter feels like therapy and a brain and heart massage! Two chapters left to go of Just Having, dive in now so you can lose your mind with me when it's complete.

Solitudes by ilovehowyouletmefall (@angelinthefire, art by @hawkland) is set in season 12 after Cas is nearly killed by Ramiel. Dean is close to acknowledging his feelings, whilst Cas is weighed down by the responsibility to find Kelly, but he agrees to help out on one more hunt before he leaves. Trapped, they encounter a monster which makes both of their nightmares come true...or so they think. Witnessing each other's despair, this is a haunting and genuinely creepy story that will make your heart ache.

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Poll analysis part 4

I normally don't do these so soon, but since I started doing the duo and the trio polls that really brought out some interesting trends

Naruto, I know I've called you guy my problem child fandom just because of how you engage with me. But you guys can't seem to catch a break unless it's Kakashi or Madara. You think one of the most popular animes of all time would at least be able to win something. But no. You're coming in dead last in the Battle Royals. Even just the regular polls with your characters have extremely low engagement. With the only exception being Kakashi or Madara. I have my theories on why this might be happening but I want to observe some more because there are so many more Naruto Polls in the queue before I put anything in writing publicly

Sailor Moon oh boy, did you guys come out to support your lesbians. I was not expecting so much support for those characters, I think I threw them in as a last minute I need an all girl Duo and you guys turned out. I'm curious to see if this continues with all the Sailor Moon characters

Samurai Champloo these characters get mentioned so many times in the comments. Like where are these characters why aren't they in the swordsmen or trio Battle Royale and no one shows up to support them. Why is this? I know Samurai Champloo is iconic but you all are pulling an Attack on Titan. I think the fandom is comatose and the characters only get mentioned out of respect for its iconic status

JoJo's apparently has characters that are trying to give Senshi a run for his money when it comes to panty shots or booty shots. Those polls have been funny. I'll give you that. And it somehow feels appropriate for the JoJo's fandom to do everything for the meme and submit those polls with those specific photos

Berserk you guys only show up to support Griffith and Casca. There is very little love for Guts that might be due to his opponents most the time, but I think that is somehow thematically appropriate

Fullmetal Alchemist I thought you guys only showed up for general Armstrong when I paired up Hawkeye and Mustang as a Duo. You all show up in droves to show your support.

Castlevania You guys show up pretty consistently no matter the character, it's been entertaining because you all can put some interesting things in the tags

One Piece is trying to submit the most obscure characters in that show and then put the most ridiculous tags on it so I have to add them to that already ridiculously long post. At least that's what it feels like because it feels very deliberate.

Cowboy Bebop you exist and your characters are hot. They're even hotter together. That's all I can really say

Bleach You exist. Your characters are mostly hot and Yoruichi is top tier waifu that sweeps in basically every poll she's in

Well that's all for this update There again will be another one. Don't know when but there will be one

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Hey, y'all!! Soooo originally, I planned to have this story finished last month but finishing homework for class & writing Halloween projects took up a lot of my time. So I'm finishing this story this month! I have three updates for y'all today & I'll be updating the last three chapters next week. Thank you all for your patience & continued support. Love you! Enjoy! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

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NINETEEN: AIN’T TOO PROUD TO BEG.

You lie in bed in the pink dawn coming through your window, your body throbbing with need.

Your bed is soaked in sweat that isn’t just from the summer heat. Even your loose satin slip can’t afford you any relief. Your sheets have been tossed off of you, your o​​wn doing from the night before, and your hair is wrapped protectively in a satin wrap that is now soaked in sweat. 

You ignore the way your body feels, paying no mind to the throb between you ​​legs. Helping yourself out wouldn’t do much for you anyway. It never has…no since that night. 

Once again, you’ve awakened from your hot, forbidden dream of you squished between the two men you’ve forbidden yourself from loving, limbs tangled, lips locked, hips grinding against one another. You can still hear their moans and taste them on your tongue despite them just being apparitions created by your own horny ass mind. 

For the last two days, these fantasies are all that you have of the duo despite them living in the same house as you. But from the way things have been since the hoedown Friday night, they may as well just be ghosts of your past that continue to haunt you. If it weren’t for the conversations you’ve heard them have with your parents, you’d think they were gone. 

For the last two days since the party, Geto and Gojo haven’t spoken to you. They pretty much keep to themselves now, purposely waking up before you do or leaving the house while you’re in it. Whether it’s to fetch supplies from town or help your papa in the farm, they avoid you at all costs. At night, it gets no better. You often hear them whisper to each other in their bedroom, but you don’t ever try to speak to them. 

It really fucking hurts, but you’re no better. You’ve been avoiding them too since that embarrassing night. You make excuses to eat in your room during mealtimes or take your horse for rides in an effort to be away from them. You busy yourself helping your parents to distract yourself from the nagging thoughts of that night. It’s been a war for the past two days and you’re quickly losing. 

The truth is you don’t feel bad about what you did with the Gunslingers. And that’s what makes you feel bad. You know that that night was a mistake, that you never should’ve allowed yourself to get involved with your partners.

But despite this logic, you also can’t deny how right it felt being with them in such a lewd, primal way. They knew all of your favorite spots just by paying attention to your body. They knew how to kiss and touch you. Even when you showered that night, you wished you could’ve kept their scent on you. 

As much as you want to talk to them, you don’t want to be the first one to do so. You’ve got your pride. Plus, what good would it do? You can’t be with men like them. It just wouldn’t work. “Dammit,” you sigh, sitting up in bed. Time to go for a ride. 

You leave your bed, shower, and dress ​​in your riding boots, shorts, and a loose tunic before heading out to the barn. Eren is the only one awake when you venture outside to the barn, tending to the chickens that cluck and sing in the dawn. He looks over at you when you step into the barn. “Hey, you,” he chirps, a smile on his face. “Whatcha doin’ up so early?” 

Tryin’ to clear my head and distract myself over t​​he amazing sex I had with my partners that may never happen again because we won’t talk to each other and everything’s a mess. 

“Oh,” you sigh. “Just wanted to take a ride, but I’d rather fix y’all breakfast. Any fresh eggs?” 

Eren nods at the basket of eggs he picked earlier. Silently, you go over and begin plucking some out, placing them in your dress. The air is tense, thick with unsaid words. Eren awkwardly clears his throat. “So how’d you sleep?” he asks.

You resist the urge to sigh. “Pretty good,” you reply. You know he’s trying to avoid asking you about the elephant in the room. He’s been trying all weekend. 

You almost wish he would stop and just say it…until he does. “YN, darlin’,” he begins. “I know you may not wanna talk about this none, but…well, it’s eatin’ at your mother and I. It has been since Friday night.”

You finally wither and turn to him, looking into his firm gaze. “Pappa–” 

“I don’t care about you bein’ with this boys because you’re a grown woman,” he continues, putting up a weathered hand. “You can make decisions on your own. But I need to know that you’re okay and that them Gunslingers are bein’ good to you.” He fixes you with a look that says, ‘Don’t lie to me.’ 

But how can you, his daughter, in good conscious tell him about your complicated relationship with the same men that saved your life?

“Papa,” you firmly say, “there’s nothin’ goin’ on between us. We’re just friends and that’s it. Friday night was just a result of some pride BS.” You don’t mention the sex, but you have a feeling that he already knows. 

He raises one brow beneath his hat and sizes you up before he puts up his hands in defense. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll leave it at that then.” You sigh in relief, glad to hear that. You hope it lasts. 

“Well, me and your mama are goin’ out later. We’ll be makin’ a short travel to the county next door to deliver some goods and make a sale, so you and the men will be holdin’ down the fort till next mornin’.” 

You blink at him, your stomach turning. So you’ll be in the house with Geto and Gojo alone for the next 24 hours? Why don’t you trust yourself with that? “Okay then,” you say. “And yes, before you ask, I’ll be okay. I know how to cook and shoot.” Eren chuckles, the previous conversation forgotten. 

For the rest of the day, you help your mom pack and see her and your papa off that afternoon. They’ve already got their wooden cart full of goods (fresh eggs, herbs, vegetables, baked pasteries, etc.) plus their luggage. Eren sits on the bench behind his horse, petting its mane. 

“Yuri, c’mon!” he shouts from the driver’s seat. “This horse ain’t gon’ drive the cart itself!”

Yuri glares at her husband, standing in her traveling outfit of a floral dress and a hat. “Hang on, Mr. Bossy! I’m just makin’ sure our daughter is feelin’ comfortable bein’ here by herself.” You smile down at your mom, squeezing her shoulder. “Mama, I’m fine and I won’t be alone.” Unfortunately. 

“Yes, but I need to feel comfortable as your mama.” She gives you a firm stare and you know you’re about to get a pop quiz. “Now, what do you need to do before sundown?” she asks. 

You remember the rundown she gave you during breakfast this morning while Geto and Gojo were showering. “Make sure all the animals are fed,” you automatically answer. 

She nods, pleased. “And what do you do before bed?” 

“Lock all of the doors and windows, and make sure the stove is cut off.” 

“And where are the guns?” 

“In your closet in a black box under your old wedding dress.” 

Yuri smiles with pride. “Good girl,” she praises you, squeezing your shoulders. She then leans in to whisper in your ear as if she has a secret. “And if you ever feel uncomfortable, go to a neighbor’s and call us. We’ll come right home.” 

You know she’s referring to Geto and Gojo. Though being alone with them makes you nervous due to the sexual tension simmering between you now, you know that they won’t do anything you’d be uncomfortable with. You trust them. But you don’t trust yourself anymore.

“I’ll be fine, Mama,” you assure her. “Don’t you worry ‘bout me. Now go before Papa leaves without you.” 

Yuri smiles and hugs you tight against her. “I love you,” she murmurs. “We’ll call when we arrive.”

She finally heads off to join Eren on the cart and with one snap of the leather reins, the horse takes off. You wave as the horse totters off up the trail with them, both of your parents waving back even when they get farther and farther away. When they finally disappear into the horizon, you hurry to do your chores now in an effort to distract yourself. 

But no matter how much you sweep the floor or feed the animals or brush the horses or rinse, slice, and boil vegetables for beef and chicken stew, you can’t distract yourself for much longer. The more you hear the Geto’s heavy footfalls from upstairs and hear Gojo’s whistles from outside, the more you feel your need increasing. 

You want them. No…you need them. You need to talk to them. You can’t go on acting as if what happened didn’t happen. Maybe you can at least apologize? Even if you never get to pursue a romantic relationship with the two, you at least want to discuss what happened and bury the hatchet, especially if you’re able to venture off to kill Benji soon. You’ll need to work together. 

So as you fix supper in the early afternoon hours, you make a plan to confront them tonight. As the day wanes on, the anticipation for tonight grows and so does your yea​rning. When the sun finally sets and the moon hangs full in the sky, you finally finish fixing dinner and store the pots of beef and chicken stew on the stove to cool for later. You can’t eat, mostly because you’ve been cooking for hours but also because of your anxiety. 

To stall yourself further, you fix a pitcher of sweet tea using your mama’s recipe. As you stew the tea and slice lemons and mint, you think of what you’ll say to Geto and Gojo: “Can we talk for a minute?”

“I’m sorry about what happened…I mean, it was good, but it wasn’t good for us.”

“I just don’t want this to fuck things up between us. We make a great team.” 

After an hour of stalling, you finally bite the bullet and go through with your plan. You pour two glasses of cold iced tea for them duo before venturing upstairs to find them. You go to their bedroom door and clear your throat,

trying to keep calm despite your rapid heartbeat. “Boys?” you call. “Can we talk for a minute? I’ve got some sweet tea here for y’all and I fixed dinner.” 

There is no answer. Turning to the side because of your occupied hands, you use your elbow to push at the door. Shockingly, it opens, revealing an empty bedroom. “Boys?” you ask again. You poke your head in, examining the mess of clothes, shoes, and empty backpacks on the bed. 

You’re so busy trying to decode what this means that you barely hear the footsteps behind you. You turn, finding Geto and Gojo standing behind you in shock at you standing in their room. “Y/N,” Geto says, startled. “What are you doin’?” 

“Where were y’all?” you demand, saying the first words that pop into your brain. 

“Puttin’ the animals away so your dad won’t have to deal with ‘em when he gets back. What are you doin’?” Geto repeats the question, this time more firmly than before. That irks you for some reason. What is he hiding? 

You slam the glasses down on a nearby piece of furniture, angered. “Da hell is this?” you ask, motioning to their bags. “Are y’all leavin’ or somethin’? I thought y’all said you’d stay here while we’re in Willow Springs.” 

Gojo shares a look with Geto. “Uh…w-well, we weren’t plannin’ on stayin’ here any longer,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, Suguru?” He nudges his partner for help. “Y/N,” he sighs, “we need to talk. We weren’t plannin’ on you seein’ any of this.”

You scowl at them.  “What do you mean?” you demand. “Are y’all leavin’ Willow Springs tonight?” You hope they say no. You hope that this is just a misunderstanding. “Not tonight,” Geto somberly replies. “We were just plannin’ ahead.” 

“Plannin’ ahead to what?” you hiss, tired of them beating around the bush. “To leave me here? You weren’t even gonna say goodbye?”

You feel a pang of hurt at the idea of them up and leaving you here. “No,” Geto answers, his eyes flashing. “We were gonna talk to you about this beforehand. We wouldn’t have done that to you.” 

“But you damn well were just gonna leave me here,” you argue, motioning at the evidence on the bed. “I thought y’all weren’t leavin’ until I recovered.”

Which you have, but you’re still not quite 100%. “And you have plenty of more time to recover, darlin’,” Gojo says, nodding down at your ankle. “Just with us not in the way. You got a chance to live the life you’ve always wanted now!” 

‘But that life ain’t nothin’ with you,’ you think, but you stamp the thought down. Silence descends upon you, tense and thick. “What is this about?” you whisper. “Is this about what happened?” 

Geto’s eyes flash with meaning and hidden passion. “No,” he answers, but you can tell that he is lying. “Gojo and I have been talkin’ about this for a while now and we think it would be better that you stay here while we look for Benji ourselves.” 

You already had a feeling what their plan was, but hearing it come from his lips feels like a bullet going through you. “W-What?” you stammer, shocked. “But what about our deal? I still haven’t held up my end of the bargain yet. I…” You pause, willing the tears threatening to push pass your eyes away.

“I thought we were a team,” you softly say. “I thought that…that…”

You once again pause, unable to spill those words. I thought we were something.

Both outlaws slowly walk into the bedroom, the door shutting behind them. “Y/N, we’re doin’ this because we care so much about you,” Geto softly says. “Please try to understand–” 

“I don’t need to understand shit!” you bark, barely startling the two men. “I can’t believe that after all this time and everythin’ we’ve been through, y’all just wanna abandon me like this? What, you think I can’t handle it?” 

“Damn right, you can’t,” Gojo snaps and it takes you aback. “Look at your foot, Y/N. You may be able to linedance, but you sure as hell can’t run and duck from some bullets.” Geto instinctively moves in between you to stop you from charging at his partner. “And who says?” you growl. 

Gojo slides his shades off, revealing two sapphires narrowing at you. “We say,” he answers, his voice dipping dangerously low. “Don’t start playin’ with me now, little girl, or–” 

“Or what?” you cut in. “You’ll fuck me and then forget me like ya did at the party?” Gojo’s irked expression fades. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” he asks, having the nerve to sound confused. “This ain’t about what happened, Y/N.” 

You roll your eyes, stepping farther away from them in opt for the other side of the bedroom. “You’re a horrible liar when you wanna be, Gojo,” you scoff. “Neither one of y’all said shit to me after what happened.” You didn’t either, to be fair. 

“That’s because we didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were,” Geto explains. “The way you ran off instead of talkin’ about it afterwards, we thought we had upset you.” 

You look away, staring at your feet instead of him. You did run away from them that night, but only out of shame and regret. Maybe you should’ve stayed and talked it out, but you were also drunk. You didn’t know up from down! 

Geto sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen, we’re sorry about what happened. It was just a drunken mistake.” Immediately, all of the regret you feel over running away dissipates. “A mistake?” you parrot, your voice sharp. “So you didn’t want it to happen? So this is my fault?” 

Geto’s eyes widen like he didn’t expect you to blow up like this. “Okay, now you’re trippin’,” Gojo scoffs. “Number one, there’s three of us, so Friday night was a joint decision. And B, I know he said it to make you feel better, but it definitely was not a mistake to me.” 

You blink at him, startled by what he just said. Despite his sharp look, his eyes are inblazened with passion. They mirror the same as Geto’s, the fire in his gaze so hot that it almost burns you. “I’m not gonna front: we’d both be lyin’ if we said both we didn’t want that night to happen with you.” 

You can feel your heart pummeling like a sledgehammer slamming repeatedly against your chest. “You did?” you quietly ask, no more than above a whisper. They don’t need to confirm it with their words or actions. You can see it all in the way they stare you down, like they’re both struggling to contain themselves around you. 

But it does nothing to soften the blow. It only fuels the rageful fire in you. “So what now?” you snap. “Y’all say that to me and then leave? Those words mean nothin’ to me if you take off and abandon me like I don’t matter to you!” 

Now it’s Geto’s turn to explode. “Goddamit, Y/N!” he bellows, his deep voice bouncing off of the walls. “You do matter to us. We do care about you. Don’t you understand? We’re leavin’ because you deserve a life that’s better than us. We…” 

He stops, fighting with himself. “You don’t deserve us.” He runs a frustrated hand over his face, looking absolutely gutted. “As much as we enjoyed that night and this time with you, it can’t go on any longer. It ain’t safe.” 

“And that’s what you deserve, sugar,” Gojo adds. “Safety! A safe, normal life where you can farm with your dad, bake with your mom, and be with a good, square guy like Nanami.” 

Like a record scratching, your brain focuses on that last part and repeats it. You stare at the man like he just admitted to murder. “Nanami?” you cough, almost laughing. “What the fuck does he have to do with this?” 

Gojo stares at you, dead serious. “We see the way he looks at you and how happy you seem with him.” Now you do laugh, nearly bending over as you let out a loud, donkey laugh.

“What?” you guffaw. “Y’all sound absolutely insane!” But neither one of them are laughing which makes it worse.

“You say that now until you realize that we’re right,” Gojo argues. “You don’t need a life out there with us.” 

Your smile fades when you realize just how sure of themselves they are. That if they leave, you’ll live a happy life with Nanami or some other guy that isn’t a wanted outlaw. A peaceful, normal life. You ball your hands into fists, furious with them.

“How are you gonna tell me what I need?” you hiss. “Only I can know what I need. And I don’t need this! I don’t need you two makin’ decisions for me or leavin’ me when I need you most!” 

You can feel the truth bubbling up inside of you, desperate to be free. It forces itself up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it: “I don’t want Nanami,” you confess. “I want…you. Both of you.” 

You finally face the truth and look them both in the eye. They are silent, just staring at you in awe. “How can I possibly live a life here if it’s not with you?” you softly ask. “How can I move on when all I wanna do is be with you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but even if it wasn’t, you know they wouldn’t have the answer. 

Now, the tears begin to fall as the wall you’ve carefully constructed and built around yourself crumbles. The wall that has been tumbling down since the moment you realized you felt so deeply for the two gunslinging outlaws. You can’t stop yourself from crying, soft sobs shaking you to the core and making you wrap your arms around yourself in an effort to stop shuddering. 

“I don’t want y’all to go,” you sob. “Please don’t leave. If I can’t go then just stay here with me. Once y’all get Benji, you can come back here with me. O-Or just forget about him and stay!” 

Salty tears drip down your face and fall down your cheeks as you continue to crumble before the two men. You don’t care if you look crazy. You don’t care if you look desperate. You need them to understand.

You then feel two pairs of arms wrap around your body and a firm chest press against your face. Another body presses itself from behind you, wrapping you up in his big arms. Gojo and Geto stay there with you, hugging you, comforting you the best way they know how. 

“Just stay,” you plead to the duo. “Please stay.” 

“Shhh,” Gojo hushes you. “We’re here, baby. It’s okay.”

You pull away and he lifts your head up to meet his saddened blue eyes. You whimper and that’s all you can do before Gojo’s lips are on yours. His kiss is soft and passionate, his feelings for you pouring into your body the more his mouth dances with yours. Your soft sobs are silenced, replaced with soft moans of longing as you glide your hands up his arms to grip his forearms. 

He pulls away to tilt your head to the side and kiss your neck, his pillowy-soft lips caressing your skin. “Satoru,” you moan. Once again, he hushes you, his lips moving up to your ear. “Don’t talk,” he softly orders. “You don’t need to talk right now, baby. Just feel this.” 

Geto moves closer to you, pressing his big body against your back. You lean against him, wanting him to know that you feel him too…and you want him too. Wordlessly, he turns your head and kisses you as well, his lips just as soft, wanton, and supple as Gojo’s.

You loop an arm around his head to pull him closer, moaning into the kiss. You feel soft lips on your neck as Gojo begins to kiss you, his hands caressing your breasts while Geto’s big hands caress your waist and ass. You are completely squeezed between them, their bodies firm and unrelenting. 

Geto finally pulls away, his eyes wanton and lips almost puffy from the kissing. “Your bedroom,” he pants. “Now.”

Wordlessly, he and Gojo guide you out of the room and swoop you down the hallway to your bedroom. As soon as you’re inside and the door is closed, the sexual tension you felt damn near explodes. You kneel in the middle of the bed while the two men watch you, looking like predatory wolves stalking their prey as the moonlight spills onto their lustful stares. 

Geto places a hand on his hardened cock, stroking himself through his pants, unashamed and unembarrassed. “You’ve got too much on and it’s pissin’ me off,” he growls. “Take off your clothes for us, baby.”

Gojo slowly replaces Geto’s hand with his own and vice versa until they are stroking each other. For you. All for you. 

A seductress steps into your skin, settling into your body. You smile at them, moving your hair aside to show them your back. “Can you help me?” you ask, your tone sultry and soft. “I can’t seem to reach back here.”

Gojo’s laugh is a damn aphrodisiac the way it has your body heating up. “Aww, ya can’t?” he cooingly asks. “I’ve gotcha, cutie.” 

His soft, long fingers glide against your skin as he begins to untie the bow holding your sundress up. “I think she was askin’ me,” Geto says, a slight grit in his tone, causing the bed to dip as he sits down beside you. “Don’t be greedy this time, Satoru.” 

Gojo chuckles, slowly, agonizingly slowly bringing your dress down over your shoulders. “No promises. You know me, Suguru: I take what I want. Why do you think you’re still here?” Geto smirks, kicking off his boots and toeing his socks, revealing his big ass feet. “And vice versa.” 

Neither one of them argue or deny what the other is saying, because both know that they want to be here. With you. This fact allows you to take the rest of your dress off, leaving you in only your panties. The duo stare at you in awe, their eyes tracing your tits, your stomach, your waist, your legs and bare feet. “Look at you,” Geto whispers. “You’re absolutely perfect.” 

You almost believe it, especially when the two hungrily latch their mouths onto your hard nipples. You moan, tilting your head back as their wet, hot tongues bathe your nipples in their saliva. Gojo grows playful, gently nibbling on his chosen hardened peak with his teeth, emitting a gasp from you. With every lick and touch, the sensitivity grows and so does your need.

Gojo looks up from your chest, lips coated in spit and his blue eyes dark with lust. “Does Sugu’s mouth feel good, darlin’?” he asks as Geto sucks and twirls his tongue against your nipple to his heart’s content. “It looks like it does. I bet my hands can make ya feel just as good.”

His hand is suddenly between your thighs and rubbing you through your panties, heightening your sensitivity by tenfold. “Fuck,” you whine. “Please! I need you both.” 

Geto pulls away from your nipple, stroking a hand over your stomach. “You’ve got us, babydoll,” he softly says. Jerkingly, you shake your head, all of your bodily functions failing you because of how horny you’ve become for these two dangerous idiots.  “No…naked. I need to feel you both.” 

The outlaws smirk at your naughty confession and move off of the bed once more to tower over you. They watch you and you watch them as they begin to strip each other, taking off each article of clothing. With each zipper coming down and button popping, with each slice of skin exposed, you grow wetter.

Finally, when their shirts, pants and shoes are off, their boxers come off. And then, finally, their big, hard cocks throbbing and on display for your eyes only. 

Their gazes are delicious and molten as you stare at their dicks, your pussy throbbing and gushing in your panties at the joyous sight. “Touch yourselves for us,” Geto orders.

You’re so wrapped up in how yummy their dicks look that you nearly miss the naughty demand. “W-What?” you stammer. 

Gojo places a hand on Geto and begins to gently pump up, making the long-haired outlaw softly moan. “You heard him, baby: touch yourself. We wanna see exactly how much you want this.”

His breath hitches as Geto begins to stroke him too, wrapping his tatted fist around his long cock. “Play with those tits too. They look too good in this light.” 

Your eyes greedily drink in the two men jerking each other off like it’s porn…which it is. Porn that you intend to get off to. With your body on fire, you slowly position yourself onto your ass and hike your legs up, spreading them wide to show the men your panties. Taking one hand, you begin to stroke yourself through your sodden underwear while you tweak and tease one nipple with the other. 

Soft moans and gasps leave your lips as you continue to watch the duo, loving how they watch you. Their cocks swell and throb in their fists, their balls dangling enticingly. “Mmm, fuck,” you moan, the sound slipping out of you. Your body grows hotter than a furnace, your heart hammering against your rib cage.

“That’s right,” Gojo moans. “You’re doin’ so good for us, sweetie. You take orders so, so well.” 

You do. You’re such a good girl. You know you are.

Finally, the friction and sexual tension become too much for you. You lock eyes with them as you suck yourself off of your fingers and then curl them in a ‘come hither’ motion. “Come to me,” you plead. “I want you to taste me.” 

The men look eager to fulfill your request, but pause and look at each other. Gojo gives Geto a wink and raises a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests with a shit-eating grin. Geto rolls his eyes into the back of his head. “You’re such a kid,” he sighs, but does it anyway. 

You can’t help it: you giggle as you watch the two play for a chance to eat your pussy first. The two pump their fists three times, mumbling “Rock, paper scissors, shoot” as they do. Gojo shoots scissors while Geto shoots a rock, grinning when he bangs his fist against Gojo’s fingers. “Best two out of three!” The white-haired outlaw demands, poutting. 

Geto smirks, shooting him a cocky look as he climbs onto the bed. “Uh-uh. I won fair and square, so I get to eat this pussy first.”

He turns to you, sexily crawling between your legs, making his back tattoo move with his muscles. “You just relax for me, babydoll. You know I’ll take good care of you and this body, right?” 

And that he does. As soon as he dives between your plush thighs and eats your pussy, you just about see God, especially when his tongue enters you. “Oh!” you moan, your hands immediately lacing through his long, dark hair. “Geto, yes!”

You can’t help but grind your hips into his lovely mouth, taking his tongue deeper and rubbing your clit against his nose. He happily allows it, lapping at all that you offer him while his hands grip the underside of your asscheeks to lift your hips up. 

Gojo suddenly appears beside you, standing on his knees above you with the most pitiful look you’ve ever seen on a man. “I need some relief too,” he sighs. He wraps his tatted hand around aching cock, pumping it slowly in your face. “Can ya help a poor man out, baby?” 

You’d be happy to. Moaning from Geto’s mouth, you wrap a hand around Gojo’s cock and begin pumping his shaft, up and down, twisting your hand every time you stroke downward. His soft, luscious moans encourage you to keep stroking, his blue eyes locked on you and your cute expressions as Geto sucks on your clit.

“Fuck yes!” You whine, tossing your head back. Your eyes close and your mouth falls open, making Gojo envision your entire face coated in his cum. 

“Fuck, I need to get closer. I wanna fuck that pretty face up.” Gojo wipes a piece of hair out of your mouth, staring at your plump, soft lips that he so desperately needs to feel wrapped around his dick. “Can I straddle your chest, darlin’? I promise I’ll go slow.” 

You blink at him, taken aback by his request. You’ve never sucked dick in that type of position before, but something in Gojo’s sapphire eyes tells you that he would never give you more than you can handle.

“Y-Yes,” you breathlessly answer. You trust him. Gojo smiles like you just gave him the sun and the moon with your answer. “Just tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop, understood?” 

Geto licks and gently sucks your pussy lips, stealing your words. Gojo wraps a hand around your throat, gently squeezing. “Words,” he demands.

You gasp, your nipples tightening from the act. “Yes, I understand.” The outlaw smiles and presses a kiss to your panting lips. “Good girl.” 

You watch him as he lifts himself onto your chest and hooks one leg over each side of you, straddling your bosom. Suddenly, his abs and long, hard cock are in your face. A sight to behold, indeed. Obediently, you open your mouth and he sinks inside, placing one hand on his back to thrust a little harder and a little faster each time.

“Oh, my God,” Gojo groans as if he is seeing the Holy Father while he fucks your mouth like it’s a sex toy. 

Lewd, wet sounds begin to travel from your wet mouth into the air, mingling with Geto’s eager pussy-eating. You can’t see him behind Gojo’s toned body, but just feeling his hands spread your thighs apart and his tongue caressing your cunt makes you want to gush.

Having enough for now, Gojo slips out of your mouth with a groan, allowing you to properly breathe. “Time out,” he huffs. “Open your mouth.” 

You do as he says and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. You don’t expect Gojo to lean down and spit in your mouth, but you’re not complaining about it either. 

“Spit it back on my dick.” You do so, spitting his and your saliva all over his cock. He strokes it in, making his cock nice, shiny, and wet, before slipping it back into your mouth. 

Like a good girl, you lift your head and breathe through your nose as you take his deep throat fucking, gagging along his dick. “God, such a good girl!” he groans, running a hand through your hair. “Isn’t she, Sugu?” He looks back at his long-haired partner still feasting on your sobbing, wet cunt despite his aching jaw. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums into your pussy. 

The more he licks, sucks, and sloppily eats your pussy (even spitting on it at some point before slurping it back up), the closer you get to your first orgasm of the night. Your clit throbs against his nose as his tongue caresses and strokes your insides, coaxing you to fall apart in his mouth.“Fwuck, I’m gwonna cwum!” you mumble around Gojo’s cock. 

Gojo hums encouragingly, still fucking your mouth like he owns it. “Do it then, but you’d better cum for me too.”

Geto moves faster, licking that little spot while you grind your clit against his nose until finally, you burst all over him and the duvet below you. You whine around Gojo’s cock as you cum, gushing your juices all over Geto’s waiting mouth. 

The white-haired outlaw chuckles, watching your eyes roll back and your body shudder underneath him. “Such a slutty girl, cummin’ with my man’s cock in your mouth.”

He slowly thrusts as your orgasm high fades and then he finally pulls out. He rolls off of you while Geto rises from between your thighs, his lips coated in your cum. Gojo crawls to him and presses his lips to his in a messy, sloppy French kiss where Geto shares your taste with Gojo. 

It is by far the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. When they pull away, they look at you, each of them placing a hand on your legs. “Tell us what you want,” Geto huskily demands, his eyes soft yet lustful.

You’ve never wanted anything more in your life than them. Not even Benjii the Bandit’s blood on your hands. “Both of you,” you whisper. “I want both of you.” 

 The duo look overjoyed to hear that. “I think I quite like fuckin’ her mouth for now,” Gojo purrs, winking at Geto. Go ahead and fuck her pussy for me, babe.“ You would’ve thought he told Geto that he’s got gold stashed under the floor with how much Geto’s eyes light up. 

The sexy, stoic, long-haired man places himself between your thighs, his cock pressed against your entrance. You gasp at the contact. “Alright?” he asks, locking his eyes with yours.

You nod, lifting your hips up and he slips a pillow underneath to keep you propped up. He then slides his cock against your pussy, biting his lip as he does so. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Y/N. You have no idea.” 

Suddenly, he pushes forward and he is inside of you, filling you up and stretching you out. “Geto,” you whine, gripping his forearms like they’re your lifelines. He presses a kiss to your sweaty brow, strands of his hair tickling your ace. “I know, babydoll, I know. Let’s take it slow, okay?” 

“Go slow!” Gojo hollers. “You need to let her adjust!” 

“I am,” Geto growls, annoyed, before turning his attention back to you. “Take all the time you need. Just say ‘stop’ if you need me to stop.” 

You nod and focus on your breathing while Geto continues his slow, gentle strokes. He is by far the biggest man you’ve had. Most of the men you’ve fucked were either out of necessity to get closer to them in order to kill them or when you were absolutely desperate and needed a quick, drunk fuck. But this time? This isn’t just a fuck. This is love-making. It’s close and it’s open and it’s passionate. All of which you have never experienced before now. 

Geto and Gojo tend to you as you take Geto’s cock, whispering sweet, dirty nothings to you and pressing sloppy kisses to your lips as you rub your clit in small semi-circles. Your pussy begins to open up for him like a flower, taking him deeper. “Goddamn, baby, you’re tight,” Geto hisses, struggling to control himself. 

You are too. His body is just too delicious. You run your hands over his pecs; his stomach; his pierced nipples. Gojo seems to be struggling too, suddenly appearing next to Geto while fisting his cock in front of you. “Look at us,” he demands. “Look at what you do to us.” 

He grabs Geto’s chin and forces a kiss onto his lips. The two sloppily kiss in front of you, moaning as they do, and it makes you rub your clit a little faster. When they pull away, a string of saliva trails across their bottom lips which only makes you more aroused. Gojo laughs, cooing at you. “She really is a slut,” he chuckles. “Looks like someone likes watchin’ two cowboys kiss. I bet it’s a fantasy come to life, ain’t it, cutie?” 

He suddenly moves beside you and gently taps his cock against your lips. “Open up for him,” Geto demands. “But don’t look away from me.” Doing as you’re told, you let Gojo slip inside your mouth while you keep your eyes trained on Geto even as Gojo fucks your mouth like it’s his favorite sex toy. 

“Good girl,” Geto grunts and finally stops being so gentle. He holds your feet up to his broad chest, pressing one to his lips to kiss your toes. His cock sinks deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that draws every moan, whine, sob, and growl out of you, muffled by Gojo’s dick.

The two fuck your holes in tandem with each other, their moans and grunts mingling with yours and filling the dark bedroom. 

As Geto picks up speed, you rub your clit faster and harder until that familiar warmth in your core begins to expand the more his heavy balls slap against your ass. “Yes, Sugu, right there!” you gasp. “I’m gonna cum!”

Geto smiles, his pearly whites gleaming at you as his strokes grow more frantic. “You’re gonna cum for me? Like a good girl, right?” 

You quickly nod, babbling of “yes” and “please” escaping you. “Don’t cum inside her though,” Gojo warns, tapping his cock against your chin. “We’ve got a plan for all that nut, don’t we?”

He smirks secretively at Geto who smirks back, still drilling your shit into the mattress until it shakes. Your tits jiggle, your pussy quivers, and your brain goes numb and dumb as your second orgasm peaks. 

You don’t even get a chance to warn Geto that you’re cumming—it just happens. With a high-pitched moan, you gush all around Geto’s cock, your walls massaging him just right as you ride out your orgasm wave.

“Oh, shit!” you cry out as you tighten around him. Geto’s handsome face screws in pleasure as you cum, loving how your body and face look. “God, baby,” he pants. “You’re just askin’ for me to keep ya to myself.” 

Gojo practically forces his partner to pull out by grabbing his hips and pulling him away from you. “My turn.” He gives you a small yet devious smile as you lie there, dazed and confused from cumming your brains out. “Don’t tell me you’re tuckered out, cutie. Ya still got me to take care of.” 

Despite the soreness in your muscles, you’ve never been more horny or feral in your life. You fucking need these men, both of them. All the time. “Never,” you whisper, a sexy smile on your face. Slowly, you spread your legs for him, allowing him to get a view. “Go ahead, sir.” 

Gojo doesn’t need to be told twice. Taking his cock, he lines himself up and slowly sinks inside of you. Your mouth falls agape as your pussy, slick and open from your orgasm, stretches around him. He grins, proud of himself. “Nice, right? You can feel everythin’, can’t ya?” 

He hooks your legs over his broad shoulders and yanks you closer to him before pounding your cunt into the bed. He doesn’t waste time and doesn’t slow down. His strokes are perfect and precise, hitting your G-spot over and over again. The pleasure is so intense that you lose your voice screaming about how good he feels.

“O-Oh, oh, ‘Tarou, yes! Fuck me just like that! Harder, please!” 

Geto appears above you and plugs your mouth up with his thick cock. “You’ve got a nice voice on ya, darlin’, but if ya don’t quiet down, the whole neighborhood will hear.” 

Gojo shakes his head, his handsome face slightly flushed. “Let ‘em,” he growls. “Let everyone hear this pretty girl gettin’ fucked out of her mind.” 

He goes harder, faster, gripping your thighs for dear life as his cock hits every single tingling, pleasurable part of you. His blue eyes drill into yours, staring deep into your soul and beyond that. “You love this, right? You love us?” You nod, pathetically whimpering. “Say it then. Tell us you love us.” 

Geto pulls his cock out of your mouth to let you talk, stroking himself in time with Gojo’s thrusts. It’s so hard to find the words to speak, but you do despite how needy you sound. “I-I love you,” you pant. Gojo fucks you faster, wrapping his tattooed hand around your throat. “Say it again.” 

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls agape as the man takes you on a ride while he toys with one of your tits, gripping and massaging the pretty globe of flesh. “I love you!” you repeat, louder this time. Geto presses a kiss to your lips, gently licking your bottom lip. “Again,” he demands. “Say it and we’ll cum with you, baby. We promise.” 

Gojo keeps fucking and fucking and fucking until finally, you reach your peak and your fingers cramp as they rub your clit as quickly as possible to get you there. Pleasure explodes throughout your entire body, making your toes curl by Gojo’s ears and your back arch off of the bed.

“I love you!” you wail through your third orgasm. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” 

Through your orgasm, Geto and Gojo press a kiss to your face. “And we love you too,” Gojo grunts. “Let us show you how fuckin’ much. Don’t. Move.”

Together, he and Geto chase their orgasms by fucking your holes until they pull out and furiously pump their cocks above your body. 

You lie there tiredly, watching their handsome faces screw in ecstasy as they moan out their release, spilling cum on your body. You feel warm liquid splash onto your tits, thighs, and stomach. Your entire body sings and tingles at the sound of your outlaws moaning as they cum, the lewd, wet sounds of their palms stroking their slick cocks filling the air. 

As your high fades, you let out a tired yet delirious giggle, completely floored from the amazing sex. But once it’s gone, you feel a pang of emptiness. Because now that the event is done and the feeling is gone, you know that what led to this is still here: the fact that your men may leave. 

The mattress bounces slightly as Gojo gets up and heads to the bathroom. Geto appears above you, his hair a dark curtain in his face. Tears prick your eyes for some reason as you stare at his handsome face. “Sugu—“

He presses a finger to your lips, stopping you. “Shhh, don’t talk. We’re gonna clean you up now, babydoll. You did so amazin’ for us.” 

Gojo comes back with a sudsy washcloth and some skin oil he found. He crawls back onto the bed and presses his lips to your ear. “Close your eyes, little darlin’,” he whispers. You do, his voice like a lullaby to you. 

You allow the duo to clean their cum off of your body with the warm, soapy, wet rag before warming some oil up in their palms. The two work to massage your legs and arms, their fingers kneading your sore muscles and turning them into mush. Their touch is like silk on your skin, making you hum and moan in pleasure. The tenderness they give you makes you want to cry even more. 

When they finish rubbing you down, they toss the items aside and coax you under the covers. Your head hits the pillow as the duvet falls over your naked body. Gojo presses his front to your back while Geto takes the other side, his front against yours. Your legs entangle and your hands trace shapes on each other, the air thick with the smell of sex, massage oil, and the summer air. 

“Will you stay with me?” you whisper into the night. 

Geto presses your head into his chest. His heartbeat thuds against your ear like a metronome. “Yes,” he whispers back. “We’ll stay.” You can’t tell if he’s lying or not. 

Gojo strokes your hair, his scent curling around you. “Sleep now, darlin’,” he tells you. “Don’t fight it.” 

You struggle to fight back against the fog of sleep, but inevitably, it wins and you drift off into a sea of nothingness and post-orgasmic bliss against Geto’s chest.

[projectionistwrites]

EQUIFINALITY | WINTER

PART ONE, sequel to GESTALT

Joel Miller x afab!reader (7.3k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: angst, grief, mentions of death and injury, age gap (not mentioned), reader is kinda harsh, no smut in this part DISCLAIMER: although this is a continuation of my series titled GESTALT, it could potentially be read as a standalone. however, i strongly suggest reading the first series to provide context for the reunion and background on the relationships between the characters. ALSO, before any joel apologists come after my head, i LOVE mister joel miller but this chapter does kind of call him out on his bullshit. try to contextualize everything with the events of the first series and remember where the reader is coming from before getting mad at me. :) NOTES: this part takes place during episode six of the last of us tv series, titled “kin.” the next installments will occur after the finale episode, when ellie and joel return to jackson.

next part →

43.4799° N, 110.7624° W.

Good luck, cowboy.

Joel’s fingers fiddled with the softening, worn edges of the cockled scrap of paper in his jacket pocket. Ellie was packing up her things further back in the cave, the crackling of the fire between them settling into a pile of smoldering embers and cinders as the sun began to rise. He didn’t need to take the note out again to know what it said—he had the entire thing committed to memory by now. He’d been mulling the numbers and letters over in his head for months, nagging at the back of his brain and gnawing an ulcer of uncertainty into his stomach.

They’d reach the coordinates within the next day. They were close. Just across the bridge over the River of Death, or whatever Ellie had taken to calling it. He wasn’t sure what they’d find—maybe Tommy and a small group, alive and well; or maybe Tommy, cold and alone; or worse, Tommy in an unmarked grave, six feet under the frigid tundra soil.

But cowboy.

The nickname felt like a punch straight to the gut, and shotgun shell straight through his chest. The message had come in three weeks after Tommy had stopped responding to his transmissions—Joel had already been planning on packing up and heading West from Boston to search for him, but he figured he’d stop to check once more with Abe. Maybe Tommy had finally responded, maybe he was alright.

But when he’d marched through the line of people in the cramped hallway and slipped the parcel of cigarettes across the table to the man in question, he was actually surprised to hear that he had, in fact, received a response.

It just wasn’t from Tommy.

“Listen, Joel, this is good news, isn’t it?”

Abe had asked, watching Joel over his thick-rimmed glasses as his eyes swept over the note in this hands.

“How d’you know it wasn’t Tommy?”

Joel breathed lowly, his chest feeling tight. The scrawled letters on the paper in his fingers were all jumbling together in his mind, eyes losing focus.

“Because I do. Came in late the other night. No signoff, no updates, no name. What you have in front of you is all I got.”

Joel’s head was swimming. Was this some sick fucking game? Would Tommy really stoop so low, to manipulate him into a false sense of hope by using that nickname, just so he’d follow in his footsteps?

“Look, Joel.”

Abe sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He leaned forward conspiratorially, taking a drag from his smoke.

“Those coordinates—I did some digging.”

He gestured for Joel to retrieve his map, and he obliged, laying it out flat on the desk in front of him. Abe picked up a dull pencil and prepared to mark.

“It ain’t too far off from where Cody Tower is—where the messages have been comin’ in from your brother.”

He made a small dot on the paper, somewhere in the middle of Wyoming.

“—and those coordinates, over here.”

He swiped another pencil stroke a short distance away, across the river on the map. He looked up at Joel.

“All open country, out there. No telling what you’ll find, and we don’t even know who it’s from—”

“Thanks.”

Joel had muttered, and it was the closest thing to gratitude Abe had ever received from the man as he stormed back out the door, the note clutched tightly in his right hand.

And now he was here. Cody Tower had been a ghost town. All these miles, all these months—he’d lost Tess, and Bill and Frank, and Henry and Sam. There was a lingering doubt in his throat—he’s come all this way. What if he didn’t find what he was looking for? What if—what if this had all been for nothing?

This wasn’t just about Tommy anymore. But then again—it never really had been, had it?

“So... who’s Y/N?”

Joel’s blood ran cold. His grip on the sniper tightened as his neck snapped around. Ellie was staring at him expectantly, fingers wrapped around the straps of her canvas backpack. His lips pressed into a line.

“The hell did you hear that name?”

A shadow crossed over his face, but Ellie knew better than to be intimidated. Still, she could tell she’d struck a nerve. She trekked forward, bumping into him playfully as she passed.

“You still mumble in your sleep. Say it a lot.”

Joel slung his backpack over his shoulder, tucking his leather jacket into the strap as he and Ellie trudged onward through the snow.

“…was she someone special?”

The insinuation in her tone was hard to miss. Joel swallowed. Months ago, he would’ve shut her down completely, probably chided the girl and iced her out, but now, after everything, he just sighed.

“Just someone I used to know.”

She knew better than to press any further. If the tick of his jaw was any indication, she had to tread lightly on the subject. They continued in silence of awhile, snow packing beneath the weight of their heavy boots, before Joel spoke again.

“S’was my neighbor. Lived next door, back home.”

“In Boston?”

Joel blew out something reminiscent of a chuckle, scratching his head.

“No. No, in—in Texas. Before—all this.”

“Hard to believe there was ever a before.”

Ellie muttered, and Joel hummed in agreement.

“Yeah. Was a long time ago. Doesn’t matter anymore.”

The girl's eyes narrowed as she watched him in her periphery.

“Seems like it still matters to me.”

Joel gave her a hard look, but she smiled innocently up at him, widening her gait just a bit to put some distance between them. He let out a long sigh, running a tired hand down his face. It didn’t matter—it shouldn’t matter. But he still tasted your name on his lips; still heard your laughter in the back of his mind, mingling with the innocent giggles of his late daughter; could still see the tears flooding your eyes and spilling down your cheeks as you fell to your knees before him, sobbing for him to stay, Joel, please, I am begging you, don’t do this, I love you, please—

They’d reached the bridge. Towering steel columns lined the path ahead of them, cold and unforgiving. To Ellie, cold and unforgiving seemed awfully familiar.

“The River of Death.”

She announced in a menacing voice, eyes wide for dramatic effect, and Joel shook his head, trying hard to fight the tinge of a smile that was making its way onto his face.

“What do you think is over there?”

Joel shrugged, cautiously taking his first step onto the platform before gesturing for Ellie to follow.

“Guess we’ll have to see if it lives up to the name.”

Joel could feel the familiar tightness in his chest as he clumsily swatted at the tears below his eyes, purposefully avoiding his brother’s sympathetic gaze.

The smell of sawdust once would’ve soothed his frazzled nerves, but the workshop in Jackson reminded him too much of home—a place he could never go back to.

And now Tommy had a home. And a wife. And a kid on the way—Joel had traveled hundreds and hundreds of miles to save his brother from some inevitable doom, but he was perfectly fine without him. No, it was worse—Tommy was better off without him.

I’m failin’ in my sleep.

The whole reason he’d agreed to take Ellie was because he was already planning on heading West himself—and now he was here, and it was just another dead fucking end. Another failure. All the people he’d lost, all the pain he’d suffered—it’d all been for nothing. He wasn’t rescuing his brother from something—he didn’t get to play hero. He should’ve fucking stayed in Boston. Then he’d still have Tess, and Ellie would’ve been better off with Marlene anyhow—and Y/N. Of course you weren’t here, of course Tommy had sent that radio transmission, of course Joel had been kidding himself all along—

“Come with me.”

Tommy’s voice pierced the silence that hung in the air, and Joel flinched at the sound. When his glassy eyes finally turned to his brother, he gestured with a nod of his head to follow him out of the woodworking shed and into the chill of the evening.

Joel grunted as he forced himself into the new boots Tommy had given him—they were snug, and warm, and way nicer than the weathered pair he'd been sporting up until this point. He stared down at them once he’d laced them up, wondering when in God’s name a new pair of boots had become such a fucking luxury.

“Joel.”

Tommy urged, and the man finally stood, following his brother outside and into the town square. As they walked beneath threaded strands of yellow lights, past decorated Christmas trees and families making their ways home, Joel was disgusted to feel a pang of resentment fleet briefly through his mind. Tommy had actually managed to find—create—some semblance of normalcy, of comfort, and Joel was jealous. It wasn’t fair—how could life still go on when so much had been lost?

Tommy spared him a look as he paused in front of a large wooden door, and Joel’s eyes flitted upwards to read the carved sign hanging above the entrance—MEDICAL. The building was right on the edge of the square, a decently sized structure with harshly tinted windows and a tiny handwritten card plastered beside the door—in black letters, with a tiny reversable placard beneath it.

THE DOCTOR IS: IN.

A bell chimed when Tommy shouldered the door open, holding it so Joel could step in beside him. The waiting room was cozy, filled with a mismatched collection of armchairs and recliners, a coffee table in the center with coloring pages and crayons strewn about. In the far left corner was a repurposed dining table that obviously served as a makeshift reception desk, although the chair behind it was vacant. There was only one door in the place, seemingly leading back into the examination room, and from just beyond, Joel could barely make out the sound of a child’s laughter.

Tommy lifted a hand to gesture for Joel to remain where he was before walking towards the door and slowly lifting his fist to knock. Joel felt anticipation well inside of his stomach, a swirling pool of uncertainty beginning to settle in. Tommy’s knuckles rapped against the wood.

“Hey, doc?”

He called softly, and Joel heard a woman’s voice over the sound of giggling.

“Yeah, just a sec, boss-man.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as Tommy came to stand back beside him, watching his expression shift carefully. He cleared his throat just as the door in front of them popped open and a little boy came bursting out.

Joel felt the breath get caught in his throat as two women followed the young child from the room, chitchatting animatedly with each other. One of the women was young, seemingly the child’s mother, but the other—

It was you. He watched as you threw your head back to laugh at something the woman across from you had said, you hand flying out to pat her good-naturedly on the bicep. The woman thanked you quickly before she chased after her child, the bell chiming as the pair exited—but Joel couldn’t hear it as your eyes met his.

You looked—the same. Or at least, more so than he had imagined. Your hair was shorter, and darker, not sun-bleached from long summer days spent out in the Texas heat. Your figure had filled out; even beneath the pair of pale pink scrubs you were wearing he could see that your soft curves had toned into a sturdy layer of muscle. Your eyes were lined with crow’s feet—wrinkles indicating that even after all this time, you’d never stopped smiling, never stopped laughing, and as your gaze met his, it was just...you. The same gleam in your eyes as the last time he’d seen you. The only notable change was the long, thin jagged pink line running down from your forehead and cutting into your right brow—a fully healed scar, indicative of some sort of injury from long ago.

The man was frozen, and suddenly all too conscious of his own lackluster appearance—he wondered how different he seemed to you, if behind his graying hair and deteriorating body you could still see any trace of the man you knew all those years ago. He wondered if he bared his sins through the lines on his face—if you could somehow see every horrible thing he’d done just by sparing him a glance.

But if you could, you didn’t show it. Instead, your lips flickered up at the corners, just barely, but enough that there was the notion of a grin on your still perfect pink lips.

“Joel.”

You acknowledged, although you didn’t make any move further to greet him. He was shocked at your ability to remain so collected—he was flustered, speechless, his mouth opening and closely dumbly like a fish out of water. He didn’t know what to say—didn’t know what to do. He wanted to pull you into his arms, wanted to apologize for everything he’d ever done to harm you, wanted to fall to his knees and thank a God he didn’t even believe in that somehow you’d made it.

But instead, he snapped his jaw shut and cleared his throat, shuffling his weight a bit awkwardly on his feet. Tommy glanced at his brother in his periphery—saw the tension that hovered over him and rendered him practically incapacitated. With a sigh, he decided to throw him a bone, and turned to you.

“Just thought—Just thought you two might like to, uh, catch up.”

Tommy offered sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders to display his discomfort. You leaned against the doorframe.

“Does Maria know about this?”

Joel watched as you quirked a suspicious brow at his brother, a small smirk on your face. Tommy’s eyes widened in panic.

“Well—no, but I just figured—look, please don’t tell her, I know—”

“Relax, boss-man, I’m just teasin’ you. She brought in the girl to see me earlier today.”

Joel was startled to learn that.

“You—You met Ellie?”

Your eyes snapped back over to him, as if surprised he was actually able to speak. You regarded him softly.

“Yeah, I met Ellie. She’s a fuckin’ pistol. Only fourteen?”

You clarified, and Joel nodded. You whistled lowly, smiling mischeiviously.

“Jesus, cowboy—two decades ago, you thought 22 was too young.”

Tommy’s hand flew to his mouth in an attempt to cover up the bark of a laugh that spilt out. It took Joel a few seconds to register your comment, but when he did, his entire body stiffened, eyes widening in blatant offense and, frankly, incredulity.

“The hell is wrong with you? She’s just—”

“Oh, chill out, cowboy, I was just joking.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Joel narrowed his eyes, and just like that, the tension between you was back, but Tommy was not oblivious to it, this time. He cautiously made a move towards the door.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two to—”

“No!”

You exclaimed, sounding borderline insulted.

“You’re just gonna leave? The fuck do you want me to do with him?”

Joel scoffed at the way you were referring to him, your hand gesturing to him as if he were a child you were being forced to babysit. Tommy threw his hands up in defense.

“Easy, doc. I gotta go see the missus—we’re puttin’ him up in 38, right across the street from us. Just—I don’t know, Y/N, just do your doctor thing and then walk him over there. You’re fine.”

“And whose idea was it to put him in 38?”

You glowered threateningly, the scar on your face contorting with the expression, and Tommy swallowed at your clear disdain.

“Actually, that was Maria’s.”

“Fuckin’ classic.”

You murmured angrily, and when Tommy turned to leave once more, you waved a dismissive hand towards him, scoffing in distaste. The door banged shut behind him, and just like that, you and Joel were alone.

His eyes flitted from the door and back to you, finding your eyes already on him. He could see the maturity in them—you seemed older, wiser, your gaze more calculating and scrutinizing. Even with the new scar that you adorned, you were just as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Your shoulders sagged in defeat before you jerked your head to the side.

“Come on, then, cowboy. Time for your appointment.”

Joel silently walked towards you, shuffling past you and into the examination room. He felt the heat of your body as he brushed past you, and fuck, you still smelled like—like you, all these years later. Clean, like freshly folded linens or laundry straight out of the dryer, with just a dash of citrus.

He paused in the threshold, taking in the room. It was fairly spacious, with a steel examination table pushed up against one wall and your desk on the other. The wall straight across from him was lined with shelving that contained more medical equipment than he thought existed—jars of various medications, bandages, gauze, pads and tampons, antiseptic and antibiotic ointments, and other various supplies that he didn’t even know the name of.

“Well, up you get.”

You nudged his back with the knuckles of your right hand, gesturing towards the steel examination table. He shot you a silent glare, but you masked your satisfied smirk as he hoisted himself up onto the surface, leaning back against the wall to face you.

You sat in your threadbare office chair, rolling it away from your desk so you could face him. He watched as you reached into a jar full of tiny white pills on the corner of your desk, grabbing a few and tossing them back into your mouth with ease. His jaw slackened.

“Ain’t that against your bylaws, or somethin’?”

He managed to jab, quirking his brow, and you rolled your eyes at him, chewing the tablets in your mouth.

“They’re sugar pills, dumbass. I give ’em to the kids when they get hurt—placebo effect. You want one?”

You picked up the glass jar and tilted it towards him, but he just shook his head, never taking his eyes off of your face. You rolled your eyes at him, stealing one more from the jar before tightening the lid back on and sliding it back onto the shelf.

You spun your chair back around to face him again, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him. He just stared right back, jaw set stiffly, arms crossed over his chest, mask impenetrable. You pursed your lips, stubborn enough to not want to break the silence that befell you. Joel finally cracked.

“You’re a long ways from California.”

His voice was gruff and husky, but even beneath the rough edge, you could make out a hint of familiar softness. You blinked at him.

“You’re kiddin’, right?”

You started, and the man’s brows furrowed more, indicating his confusion. You laughed incredulously.

“Twenty years, you’ve had to come up with a conversation starter, and that’s what you settle on? Jesus, Joel.”

You huffed, leaning back into your chair and reclining slightly. Joel’s jaw rippled at your mockery.

“Well, hell, forgive me for not meeting your expectations, darlin’.”

He expected you to fire back at him, to humor him with the witty back-and-forth banter that he’d missed so much, but you just sighed, sinking further back into your chair and shaking your head softly to yourself.

“Took you long enough to get here. I was startin’ to think you hadn’t gotten my message.”

Joel felt his heart skip a beat, and his guarded expression briefly exposed a look of realization.

“So it was you.”

You let out a humorless laugh, avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah, Joel, it was me. But I hope to God you kept that to yourself—Maria would kill me if she knew I’d contacted you.”

“Get the sense that she’s not my biggest fan.”

Joel grumbled, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. He was surprised to see your hardened eyes soften a bit, full of something resembling pity.

“She’s just—she’s protective. Tryin’ to keep me and Tommy safe.”

He tried not to read into your words too much, but he felt himself grow defensive.

“Safe. From me.”

You tilted your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and drawing in a sigh in an attempt to maintain your composure.

“Well, you’ve certainly earned yourself quite the reputation, Mister Miller.”

You scoffed, and Joel felt his face fall slightly, his mouth turning into a frown.

“So you’ve heard about me, then?”

You still avoided his eyes, your own arms crossing over your chest.

“I mean, just things from Tommy, but I doubt he told me everything. Still, Maria—Maria doesn’t think you were the best role model for your brother.”

“And what do you think?”

Joel leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and you swallowed, opening your mouth to reply just as the door to the clinic abruptly slammed open, the bell nearly flying off the hinge from the sudden rattling. You and Joel immediately burst into action, and you raced out of the exam room to investigate the intrusion.

Joel paused behind you when you slowed, taking in a relieved deep breath when you realized there wasn’t an immediate threat. The young boy from earlier had barged in, tears trailing down his round, rosy cheeks as he stared up at you with a look of almost betrayal. His mom was attempting to catch her breath, standing in the doorway hunched over, and young girl was standing to her right, presumably her daughter, who looked to be barely older than ten.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,”

The mother began to explain, her hand pressed against her chest to try to regulate her breathing.

“We were heading back to the mess hall for movie night but Jenny made a comment to Ben about his splinter, and—”

“Why don’t you wan’ me to get better?”

Ben interrupted, more tears falling from his wide eyes as he pouted, holding up the index finger of his left hand to showcase the bandage that you had put there earlier.

You startled backwards.

“What are you talkin’ about, Ben? Of course I want you to get better, that’s my job.”

“Then why didn’t you use your powers on me?”

He stamped his foot in frustration, and Joel stood back, watching the scene unfold before him with furrowed brows. Your eyes snapped over to his older sister, Jenny, who was trying to hide her amused smile behind her hand. Finally, you knelt down in front of the young boy, who sniffled and avoided your eyes.

“You’re right, Ben, I totally forgot. I’m so sorry. Can I fix it now?”

You asked carefully, holding your hand out for him. He contemplated for a minute before nodding carefully, offering you his left finger extended in front of him. Joel felt a weight settle onto his chest as you carefully pressed your lips to the pad of his injured finger, making an exaggerated smooching sound as you pulled away. The young boy’s face immediately brightened, and you smiled at him.

“There! Did the magic kiss make it feel all better?”

You leaned down to look into his eyes, and he nodded at you happily before quickly turning back towards the door and running into his mother, clinging to her legs.

The woman smiled at you, both apologetically and gratefully.

“Thank you, Y/N, and again, I’m so sorry—”

You waved a dismissive hand.

“No worries, Beth. Seriously, it was my fault, I should’ve remembered. Thanks for the reminder, Jenny.”

You winked at the older girl teasingly, and she hid her face further behind her hand, biting her lip to hold in her laughter. As the family turned to leave, you shouted a reminder to them.

“Be careful on the benches in the mess hall! They haven’t been sanded well and I don’t want him to get any more splinters!”

The door shut behind them and Joel watched your shoulders immediately sag when they left, your lungs exhaling a long, exhausted sigh. When you turned around to go back into the office, you jolted slightly, as if you’d forgotten that Joel was there. He studied you carefully, analyzing you, and you hastily pushed past him and back into the exam room.

“Sorry about that. You know how toddlers are.”

You settled back into your office chair, but as the door clicked shut behind Joel, he remained standing, leaning back against the wood with his arms crossed. You were looking at some paperwork on your desk before your eyes lifted to glance at him. He remained stoic, silent, and you sighed.

“Ellie’s a cute kid. Reminds me of someone.”

You gauged his reaction, watching his muscles tense and his jaw clench at your admission, his eyes casting down to his feet. He didn’t respond—you decided not to push it.

“How’d you get stuck haulin’ the walking cure across the states?”

That caught his attention. He stood abruptly upright, his eyes widening as he stared at you, a brief look of panic rising in him.

“How—she told you?”

You made a motion for him to calm down.

“Relax, it’s fine, seriously. I saw her bite marks. Pretty fuckin’ wild, though.”

“Why’d she tell you?”

Joel seemed unsatisfied with your answer, taking an intimidating step towards you, his voice low and threatening. He seemed to be forgetting the fact that his fear tactics wouldn’t work on you.

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m easy to talk to. Good at makin’ people feel comfortable. Besides, she said she’d heard my name before. Apparently you talk in your sleep?”

Joel’s arms fell to his sides, his jaw clenching rhythmically and hands balling into fists. His eyes dropped to the floor, but you let out a short, bright laugh.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind. That’s actually one of the first things Tommy told me when we met back up.”

Joel threw his head back with a frustrated groan, particularly annoyed when he heard you cackling from your seated position in front of him, obviously deriving great pleasure from his discomfort. When you’d finished laughing, however, the mood quickly soured once again, his dark eyes fixing you within them carefully.

“You can’t say a word to anyone about it.”

“What, about you dreamin’ about me?”

“Y/N. You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about.”

He was practically growling at you, his eyes narrowed as he took another menacing step closer. You were getting fed up with his attempts at intimidation.

“I’m not gonna say anything, okay?”

“Swear to me.”

To your surprise, Joel leaned down and grabbed the arms of your office chair, spinning it so you were facing him completely. He leaned down in front of you, eyes level with yours, only a foot away as he challenged you silently with his gaze. Up close, he could see the jagged edges of the healed cut through your forehead, marring your perfect complexion.

“Swear to me, you won’t tell Maria, or anybody.”

You scoffed, surprising Joel by leaning closer towards him instead of away, not breaking eye contact as you fixed him with your own intense stare.

“I promise. Besides, you already know that I’m great at keepin’ secrets.”

He pulled away from you harshly, abruptly, your chair sliding back a few inches at his sudden release of its arms. You smirked to yourself, somewhat satisfied with your ability to still get under his skin, even after all this time.

“Now, go sit back down, and tell me everything. From the beginning.”

Joel opened his mouth the protest, but you pinned him down with a glare.

“Don’t. This is my town, Joel—you’re the outsider here, not me. Which means I get my answers first.”

He pursed his lips, trying to come up with some way to contradict you, but he knew deep down that you were right—you had the upper hand in this situation. Begrudgingly, Joel pushed himself back onto the table across from you, grunting with the effort as he settled back against the wall. You rolled your chair a bit closer to him, leaning back and watching him intently.

“Alright, then. Tell me the story about how the cowboy and the little firefly managed to survive their journey out West, searchin’ for a brother and a cure.”

Joel regarded you carefully, fighting the urge to correct you.

And searching for you.

Instead, he opened his mouth and began to speak.

Joel’s brows furrowed as you rejoined him on the gravel street from the house you had stopped by. Your arms were holding a variety of clothing items, pressed tightly to your chest as you nodded for him to follow you.

“What was that about?”

He asked, maintaining several feet of distance between the two of you as you lead him further away from the town square.

“Stopped by to see Mary-Ann. Her husband is about your size, and I figured you wouldn’t object to a new set ’a clothes.”

You jokingly looked him up and down, scrunching up your nose in disapproval at his current attire. Even with your teasing, Joel felt gratitude sneak up on him as he watched you.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He spoke lowly, and your quick pace faltered slightly at the tenderness that breached the surface of his words. Your smile wavered.

“Yeah, I know. S’really not a big deal.”

You shrugged it off, refusing to expose any vulnerability to the man. You were bound and determined to keep your head up in the face of his sudden reappearance in your life—the last thing you needed was for Joel to think he still had power over you.

“What’d you trade for it? I’m sure there’s somethin’ I can—”

“Joel, s’fine.”

You snapped, harsher than you had intended. You sighed.

“I’m the town doctor, and I treat everyone and don’t expect anything in return, so when the time comes that I actually need somethin’, people are more often than not willing to help me out.”

He didn’t respond, and you continued your trek through the snow in silence. After a few more tense minutes, you reached house number 38, pausing when you saw light peeking through the curtains in a room upstairs, the window cracked to let cool air into the stale home.

“So, this is you. Ellie’s already upstairs, m’sure.”

You paused in front of the door, turning to face the man head-on. The familiarity of looking up at him like this, his brown eyes regarding you with undivided attention, filled you with a deep sense of melancholy. The proximity was dizzying. You refused to acknowledge the sensation.

You offered him the clothes in your arms—a fleece-lined burgundy flannel, a pair of jeans, boxers, socks, and an undershirt—and he accepted them gratefully.

“Tommy and Maria are right across the way, and... I’m, uh, right next door if you need anything.”

You tried to hide the resentment that soured your lips as you told him where your own home was located, and although he didn’t say it out loud, you saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes that you were, once again, neighbors. How serendipitous.

You hesitated, staring at the ground in between the gap of yours and Joel’s boots, contemplating. Finally, you figured you’d extend an olive branch.

“Listen—after you get cleaned up, if you wanted—I mean, I have to talk to Maria quick, but ’m probably gonna stay up for awhile, so if—you know, if you’re not too tired, I wouldn’t mind—”

“Thanks.”

Joel interrupted your senseless rambling, indicating that he understood your winded invitation for his company. You blew out a breath, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you met his eyes once more before stepping around him and closing the short distance to the house across the street. Joel watched as you walked away.

He was fuming, but his flaming hot anger was quickly tempered by a lingering sadness that threatened to consume him. Ellie had some fucking nerve—bringing up Sarah, trying to manipulate him into taking her the rest of the way. He felt nauseous, his jaw clenched tight as he sat on the edge of the bed in his own bedroom, his eyes flickering up to stare out the window that shrouded him in moonlight.

There was a cool breeze filtering in through the crack in the window, but when he looked out, he saw you. You were staring up at Ellie’s window, your hands buried in the pockets of your winter coat and your face painted with discomfort. It was only then that Joel realized Ellie’s window had been open, as well—how long had you been standing there? Had you heard everything?

Joel found himself rising, walking to stand up against the window. The movement caught your attention, your gaze briefly shifting as you made eye contact with him. The silvery-pink skin of your scar seemed translucent beneath the streetlights. You stared up at him, wordlessly confirming that yes, you’d heard every goddamned word before you turned and stomped over towards your own home, downtrodden and damaged.

He wasn’t consciously in control of his body as he swiped his jacket from the end of the mattress and descended the stairs, exiting the front door just in time to see yours slam shut. He swallowed, letting his exhale cloud out in front of him in the frigid air before he followed your snowy footsteps, pausing on your front porch and staring at the closed door.

You wouldn’t want him to join you anymore, surely—not after you’d been subjected to his aggression towards Ellie. Your silence signaled your disinterest, or so he told himself. Still, he hesitated. His calloused fingers brushed against the doorknob, twisting sharply, and to his surprise, the door swung open easily.

An olive branch.

The hallway before him was dark, but there was a soft yellow light emanating from deeper in your home, and he could hear the clanking of dishware and cutlery as he stepped into the threshold and closed the door behind him.

His heavy footsteps echoed loudly against the creaky wooden floor as he followed the sounds, the hallway opening up to a small kitchen where you were facing away from him, the smell of coffee filling Joel’s lungs as he breathed in deep. Real coffee. Even better than goddamn liquor.

He watched as you poured two mugs of the dark, steaming beverage, setting the pot back on the counter before picking up the mugs and turning to face him. You still didn’t speak, didn’t even look at him as you squeezed past him and set one mug on the end of the round wooden table before sitting down on the opposite side. Joel took the hint, the legs of the chair scraping the hardwood as he pulled it out and cautiously seated himself, his hands instinctually coming to cradle the warmth of the mug in front of him.

“You heard all that?”

He croaked.

You took a small sip, your head turned to stare out the back window and into the darkness of the trees outside. He waited, silently, for you to set the tone of the meeting. He watched your jaw clench as you finally opened your mouth the speak.

“Just—”

Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat. There was grimace on your face, words wobbly and cautious.

“Just when I think you can’t possibly let me down even more, you somehow find a way.”

He scowled, but felt his beating heart sink, an anchor weighing him down at your confession. He didn’t say anything—just kept watching your face. Your features always betrayed you; you wore your heart on your sleeve. He could read every expression with practiced precision, and now, he studied you diligently.

You finally turned to look at him, eyes glossy and sad. He swallowed.

“You know, I—I stuck my neck out for you. To Maria. Even after all the shit I heard from Tommy, even after everything, I still thought—still thought there might be at least some trace of the man I knew all those years ago.”

“That was your first mistake.”

His gruff voice interjected, posture stiff.

“I ain’t the same person I was. And neither are you.”

“You’re wrong.”

You shook your head with such conviction that Joel faltered.

“I haven’t let the world harden me, Joel. I’ve grown, and I’ve learned, but I’m still the same person I’ve always been."

“You’re lucky to be alive, then. Naive to think that you can still care about people in a world that doesn’t care about you.”

You studied him, cold and calculated, before nodding sharply, a look of disapproval in your eyes. The scar that ran through your brow curled as you scowled.

“You just feel so fuckin’ sorry for yourself, don’t you?”

Joel was utterly taken aback, blinking once, then twice, before his eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You think—you think you can use your grief, your pain, to justify your actions, like it can excuse the person you’ve become. We don’t have control over anything that happens to us, Joel. Shit happens, and the world still spins. The only thing we do have control over is the way we react to it—how we choose to let it affect us.”

You were glaring daggers through him, resentment contorting your attractive features into a snarl, your scar pinched inward with the furrow of your brow.

“Ellie was right. You’re not the only person to lose someone. Your grief does not justify your actions. I’ve heard about the things you’ve done, Joel. The horrible things. You don’t get to say that the world forced you to become what you are—you made that choice. You let your grief consume you, you let it control your life, you let it turn you cold and callous and spiteful and cruel. That’s not the world, Joel—that was you."

He felt his chest grow tight, stunned by your words. There was anger growing in him, blazing hotter.

“Don’t—”

“No.”

You snapped, and Joel could see his own rage reflected in your eyes.

“No, Joel, you’re gonna shut the fuck up and listen to me, for once. I’ve waited too damn long to say it, and you at least owe me this.”

He silently seethed, fists clenching beneath the table as his leg began to bounce with anxiety.

“Look around you. All of these people—me, too—have suffered, have been put through so much, but we’re still here. We’re trying. We’re fighting. We found hope where there wasn’t any, in spite of everything, we’re choosin’ to move forward. So you can’t say that the only way to survive is to become as hateful as the world around you—there’s still good left.”

He stayed quiet, head silently shaking at your words. HIs jaw was rippling as it clenched. You grew silent for a moment, before hesitantly speaking up. Your tone was much softer, now.

“You’re not the only person to lose her, Joel. You’re not the only person who lost Sarah.”

His eyes snapped to you, his expression turning stony at the mention of his daughter. He despised the look of pity in your eyes—the look of sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry about Sarah, I can’t even begin to understand how hard it must’ve been for you to go through that, but—but you don’t get to own that. That grief doesn’t belong to you.”

You swallowed. There were tears welling in your eyes, threatening to fall.

“Do you really think this is what she would’ve wanted you to become? What she—”

He stood abruptly, anger bubbling over and spewing from him as he shouted at you.

“You have no fucking right—”

“I loved her, too, Joel!”

You screamed, standing to meet him, and the man recoiled, flinching as tears began to track down your cheeks. You fumed.

“I loved Sarah, and I loved you, and I spent every single day missing you and hoping that by some godforsaken miracle, you—my family, was okay.”

My family. His gaze dropped to his shoes as he swallowed thickly.

“And when I heard from Tommy what had happened, I just—my heart broke for you, Joel, of course it did, but that little girl—I know she wasn’t mine, but I loved her, too. And don’t tell me I have no right to talk about her, because I did know her. I spent every day for five years with her, watchin’ her grow up, and—and I know it’s not the same, but you can’t take that from me. As hard as you try—as hard as you tried—to erase me, to push me away... I’ve never stopped loving you. Either of you.”

You turned away from him, trying to mask the pain that was erupting from deep within you—years and years of repressed anguish spilling from every pore.

Your back was to him, your shoulders rising and falling with shaky breaths, your sobs subdued by your willpower alone. As much as he tried to fight it, Joel felt guilt nesting within his soul.

“I know your world ended that night, I know you lost everything—but my world ended the night before.”

His lungs felt like they were shrinking.

“Y/N—”

“I’m gonna ask you something, Joel, and I already know the answer, but—but I need to hear you say it.”

You turned to face him once again, your sadness briefly replaced with cool calculation as you scrutinized him. He gave a barely perceptible nod.

“Did Sarah die that night, thinkin’ I just up and left without saying goodbye? Without knowing the truth?”

He felt the blood drain from his face, his mouth dry and tongue like sandpaper. He didn’t respond—he didn’t need to. You saw it in his eyes, the silent resignation, the shadow of shame that crested his features, the way his jaw rippled. You nodded slowly, the last of your tears drying up as you sniffed, and Joel could see the resentment slowly taking control.

“Darlin’, I—”

“When I saw you with Ellie, I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe there was still a part of you in there that could love, that could care, that could be a father. Ellie is someone’s daughter, Joel. What if it was Sarah? You can’t—don’t turn your back on her. Please. Don’t—don’t break my heart again.”

He swallowed thickly, unable to meet your gaze. You shook your head again, an uncharacteristic calmness suddenly possessing you.

“I’ll pack you a bag and put it on my porch for you to take tomorrow morning. Some rations and clothes and everything you’ll need."

You started walking towards the door, as if ready to lead him out, and he shook his head frustratedly.

“I can't take her, Y/N, I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.”

You clipped, a glare piercing through him as you opened up the front door for him.

“Because if you don’t, m’gonna have to listen to you bitch about how much you regret it for the rest ’a your sorry life, and I’m not willing to put up with that.”

True to your word, there was a new backpack sitting on your front step early the next morning. Joel knocked twice on your door, but if you were home, you ignored him. He rifled through the contents quickly—you’d even included a makeshift first-aid kit, a thermos of coffee and some grounds.

As he shouldered the bag, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground. It was a note, messily scrawled in your familiar handwriting. He felt his heart skip a beat as he reread it, over and over, his lips parted in shock.

Cowboy—

I kept my eyes closed, but five minutes is starting to feel more like twenty years—but I'm still waiting. I'll always be waiting for you, Joel.

Good luck. Maybe when you get back, you can hold up your end of the bargain. I've learned to be patient.

Your perpetual neighbor, Y/N

P.S. I'm sorry. And I forgive you.

You remembered.

TAGLIST: @spiidergirlsworld @canpillowscry @str84pedro @daddy-din @pedropascal-whore @pppmitt @thirdoffive @elliescumsl0t @kagajgajaguwbeidheubqk (please comment to be added/removed)

[animasola86]

A few changes are coming...

Hello, dear followers of this very blog.

The title of this post says it all: I am in the middle of re-structuring a few things around here because my focus has shifted a little.

About a year ago I started this blog as a home for my Hogwarts Legacy hyperfixation, I took a deep dive into fanfiction, into oneshots, into smut essentially. I wrote so many things centered around Sebastian Sallow it's almost embarrassing in hindsight. But I am not embarrassed, I am actually quite proud of having been able to write so much, of having a muse to guide my creative (and dirty) thoughts.

It's been a real blessing.

But as you may have noticed, my focus, my fixation, has shifted, fizzled out a little.

It started when I began writing for Professor Sharp, dipping my toes into the older man/younger woman dynamic, and to be quite honest with you, I am still knee-deep (or even deeper) in that trope. It's always been a passion (a secret kink?) of mine to have an age (and size) difference between characters, so eventually I moved away from that particular character as well and focused on characters of my own.

I'm still currently writing my original story Innocence Lost over at @animasolaoriginal (about a cowboy and a girl, a slow burn love story), but the smut writer in me has yearned for something more, so I posted a few Smut Drabbles, very short little smut scenes I couldn't put into my story yet (or ever).

And from that very sentiment of having little outlets for my horribly dirty mind, grew another idea for an original story, something I'm still working on (I'm eight chapters in already), and this time I will finish it first before I post anything, I'm forcing myself to do that, yes I will (famous last words, huh? Don't quote me on that...)!

What I'm trying to say is, this blog, that has been focused around HL and Sebastian Sallow, will turn into the smut blog it has always been, but no longer featuring our beloved freckled pixel boy. I kept my smut drabbles neutral, dropped no names, no descriptions, just, well, faceless porn really, so anyone could imagine any character in the male and female characters portrayed if they wanted to.

I find freedom in doing so, being able to write anything and not put it in the confines that is writing for British characters set in the 1890s without having to put them in various AUs all the time.

And so I'll continue writing what I like, and I hope you will follow along.

I know most of you probably also follow me for my HL screenshots that have mysteriously stopped appearing as well. I still have my vast library of posted screenshots, don't worry, they will stay (everything will stay, this is just about future content), but if I ever dive back into the game (which, tbh, I haven't played in a long while, haven't even updated yet or checked out the new photomode), I will post new screenshots on a sideblog I will have yet to make.

Just to keep this blog cleaner. And smuttier.

Imagine finding my screenshots of pretty Scottish landscapes or cute Magical beasts (or broody pixel boys) and then scrolling down to find a filthy little smut drabble right under it. It just doesn't mix well anymore. (It never did, but I only realize that now, oops, sorry to everyone who probably stayed away from my blog for that very reason).

So, to wrap this up: I will remain a smut writer, if you are in need of a little erotica to spice up your day (or night), you will always find something of the sort right here.

I'm also not leaving the HL fandom, I'm still an active follower (read: lurker), and I feel like my time has come to let other people contribute to it. And if you follow the #sebastian sallow smut tag, you'll find a lot of authors that still mainly focus on him, so if you don't want to imagine him in my anonymous smut scenarios, you'll find plenty of other sources around here, don't worry!

I, for one, want to expand my horizon a little, look into other fandoms. I've read so many fanfics/oneshots centered around characters like Joel Miller (who I loved ever since playing The Last of Us for the first time), Arthur Morgan (who inspired my cowboy phase tbh) and even characters I never knew I needed in my life, like Simon "Ghost" Riley (who I didn't even know before because I never played Call of Duty), but this is tumblr, you are exposed to a lot of things if you allow them in - and it's been an absolute blast to find new things to obsess about.

So I hope that you, dear followers, can forgive me for branching out, for turning this once HL-centered blog into not just a multi-fandom blog, but a place for smut enjoyers of all types.

Because I found my calling, and it's writing porn. It is what it is.

TL;DR:

Future screenshots will find a new home in a yet to be announced sideblog.

The content will become more neutral, so that anyone can imagine anyone in the roles of the protagonists.

(I may still write for specific characters in the future, to be determined which one, maybe I'll return to write for Sebastian Sallow or Aesop Sharp one day, who knows, I still have some unfinished WIPs after all...)

There will always be smut. Because smut is life.

And with that, I thank you very much for reading this far. And I thank you for sticking around, for enjoying my content, in the past and in the future, hopefully. Thank you for your patience with me and for joining me on new adventures!

Cheers!

[vermillionsails]

THE WANDERER part 1

Cooper Howard/ The Ghoul x Reader

synopsis: The reader aka Bullseye gets run out of her family settlement to find an old friend. what will happen when they finally see each other after 6 years?

WARNINGS ⚠️: Cooper Howard/ The ghoul x female reader afab reader, DNI IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 GO ON GIT. eventual smut, adult language, fallout show, and game cannon violence. age gap reader is 22 if you're not, pretend.

I try to keep the description of the reader neutral only things that are talked about are the reader's age, teeth, smaller hands, and eventually intimate parts. I do not own the rights to Lucy or Cooper Howard or the fallout setting. the plot and town characters are the only things I made up. Time skips are in this at least this first part anyway. dream sequence as well it will be in bold so you can tell and see the difference.

A/N: I've only seen the first episode and clips, and interviews of the characters cause Freevee only has the first episode but, the brain worms are still activated for this man! 😩

Update A/N ive managed to see the rest of the show. i also wanna give thanks to my bff @oppositeoflove-isindifference for helping me edit this brain rot and make it make sense. i love you bitch, i aint never gonna stop loveing you bitch!

I know it's not from the actual Fallout soundtrack but this song fits Cooper's vibe. A couple of 'I don't know how but they found me' songs do honestly but enjoy!!

The only thing you can do is hope. you've been hoping for two days now. All you have now is your pack, everything you've scavenged in the past two days, and Shroud. Your grandma said, before the bombs dropped, Shroud would’ve been called a rottweiler. To you though, he was your best friend. You were lucky to find armor for him, so you didn’t have to worry so much about him tagging along. You were thankful for it honestly, you wouldn't doubt that Reggie would shoot him.  So here you are in the wastes, with Shroud lying across your lap. You had set up camp against an old rusted-out van. You move Shroud, deciding to sleep in the van hidden away, instead of outside in the open. You put out the campfire and unroll the bed roll from your pack and lay down. Shroud splayed out next to you as your eyes start to drift closed. It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours before Shroud was lying on top of you, trying to nudge you awake, as gunfire and a creature roared outside. Grabbing the handle on his armor, you tapped his nose with your finger to signal to play dead. You listen as the gunfire continues. The sound of shouting rises above the gunfire. You could make out at least two voices, plus the creature. It lasts for about another 20 minutes before the noise dies down, and voices come down to a normal level. You can hear two people arguing as footsteps get closer to the van. Very slowly, you reach for the pistol strapped to your leathers. As your hand reaches the handle, you hear a gun cock and a man whistle. 

“Figured you were following us. Smart hiding.” You look up to the voice’s owner, standing in front of the van door with him pistol aimed at Shroud's back. You recognize the voice, his drawl and cowboy hat knocking the memory of Mr. Howard forward.  “Mr. Howard, it's me, Bullseye!” you shout, holding both your hands up in surrender. You silently pray that Shroud doesn't leap or make any sudden movements.  He cocks his head as he looks at you, lowering his gun somewhat.  “Bullseye, huh? That really you?”  You swallow and nod, replying, “Yes sir, it's me. Grandma sent me out to look for you. We’re in big trouble.”  He tuts, putting his gun away, seemingly disappointed he didn't get to shoot anything.  “Considering you're the only person who calls me ‘Mr. Howard’, I suppose that is you, Bullseye,” he chuckled.  He waits for a beat and scowls. He growls, “Well come on now, girly! We got some catching up to do, and I ain't got all night.” You give Shroud two pats, he gets off of you and sits at the van entrance, waiting. “Yes sir Mr. Howard,” you agree, scrambling to pick up your pack and bedroll. You make your way over to Howard and…a Vaultie?  You've never seen one before. The blue and gold suit hurt your eyes, even in the moonlight. She smiles and waves,“Hi, I'm Lucy! Nice to meet you.”  Giving an awkward wave back, you nod to her. “my actual name is y/n, but everyone calls me Bullseye” She smiles genuinely at you, a rare occurrence out here in the wastes.  “That's a nice name…why do they call you Bull-” 

Cooper cuts her off, “I only needed you to help me kill that fuckin’ thing. Don't make me tie you back up.” You give her a sorry half smile and turn to Cooper. “I'll make it as fast as I can Mr. Howard,” you say, ”Ray and Reggie have built up a coup against Grandma; they've already killed 5 people, and some of our Brahmin. I escaped about two days ago, and Grandma told me to come find you. I have a package she wanted me to give you, in case you needed incentive.”  The ghoul sits down next to you, sharpening a knife, and purses his lips. “Smart woman, what did she send with you?”  You turn to unzip your pack, spotting Lucy in the corner of your eye, She seems astonished that he’s being somewhat civil to you.  You pull out the package, a small foot locker-like box. The metal dings from the objects inside rattling as you hand it to him. “Ten different chems, two large Brahmin steaks, ammo, a couple of stimpacks, and all the caps she had left,” you list, recounting everything your grandma told you. He stares down into the box, taking a long look at the top of the lid. Finally, he closes it.  “I'll do it. This is a nice incentive, y'all must be in some real bad trouble darlin’.”  The fluttering feeling when he calls you darlin’ quickly dissipates, as you feel your worry set in. You feel your chest tighten as you look down at the dirt and sand.  “Yeah, it's bad Mr. Howard. Grandma might not….might not be alive when we go back.”  He hums as he goes back to sharpening his knife. “So what are you gonna do if we go back and she isn't?”  You look at him for a moment as you think. “Kill them, have someone else be mayor, and let Doe and Jericho be the new snipers,” you reply. He strikes the knife against the sharpening stone, sending sparks off to the ground. It makes the mix of sand and dirt pop and sizzle at your feet.  “You don’t wanna be mayor?”  You can feel the sadness wrap around your chest and squeeze again. “N-no I'm not- not as skilled as grandma. She could barter for a years worth of supplies then turn around and stop a fight in two seconds.”  He chuckles, finally looking at you with a smile tugging at the right side of his lips. “Yeah, Sue was always good at calming people down,” he muses. You chuckle at his sentiment. He points at you with him knife, saying, “Now that I know the situation, think you can help me dress that deathclaw over there?” You see it splayed out in the dirt, lifeless, the horns digging into the ground. It’s at least 6ft smaller than the adults you've seen.  “Is it a bounty?” 

Cooper grunts and nods, “Yup, it's the last a group a nearby farmer wanted gone.” He grabs the bounty paper from his duster pocket and hands it to you. “Fuckin’ things kept eating everything, including his wife.” You look over the bounty. 500 caps rewarded for the head. You nod, “That's a pretty good bounty.”  Lucy clears her throat and raises her hand, the pipboy light shining directly into your eyes. “I helped, do I get some of the caps?”  Cooper raises an eyebrow ridge at her and gripes, “Put your damn arm down, your’re blinding Bullseye! And I already told you, you're getting 20 and then you’re on your own. If I see you again, it’ll be too soon and I'll shoot you.”  You keep quiet, watching them argue with each other.  “I used ten lock-joint syringes on that thing.”  Cooper laughs, “Yeah those are cheap to make, trust me I know. You're getting 20 and I won't kill you, that's it.”  You see Lucy huff and sink back down in her spot.  After a couple of minutes, the ghoul looks back at you and asks, “Can you help me dress it?” You nod and grab the knife from your boot. “Yeah, I can help.” He gets up and walks over to it, his duster flowing in the breeze like in his old movies that your grandma used to tell you about. “Atta girl let's get to it.” You get up and join him. The bottom of your boots goes from crunching the dirt to thudding and squelching from the blood-soaked dirt pooling around its body.  You adjust the green baker's cap on your head and kneel next to its torso.  “Do you want me to start at the back of the neck or the tail?” you ask. Cooper grunts ,working to saw off the head, “Start at the tail, less tension while I do this.”  Nodding, you move further down. After a few minutes of making a deep enough incision, you get the muscle and start cutting towards the head. Its skin splits into two halves as you try to keep yourself steady. It smells like dust and blood.  Part of you wonders if the deathclaws think that you humans smell as strange as you think they do. Pulled from your thoughts, you hear Cooper clear his throat. You stop and look over at him. “You tune out too easily, could get you killed.”  You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and stammer, “Sorry Mr. Howard, I'll be better in the morning. D-Did you say something?” His eyes scan you for a moment before he speaks again. “Yeah, I did, stop when you get to it’s sides. Need to cut off its hands.” You feel his gaze on you and your cheeks burn again.“Y-yes sir.”  He makes a low sound that you think may be a chuckle.  It's a couple of hours after you started dressing the deathclaw together. Lucy, Shroud, and the dog that Cooper has let follow him around have all fallen asleep. You wrap up the last piece of meat when a thought occurs to you. “So Mr. Howard, where is this bounty at?” 

He shoves most of the meat into his saddle bags, looking at you. “About a three days walk from here, you gonna tag along? Could use that eye of yours.”  Tossing him the last piece of meat, you nod. “Yeah, it'll give me time to think of a plan.”  He makes a heh sound, a smirk playing on his lips. “A plan, huh?”  You raise an eyebrow, more curious than anything. “Yeah I mean, plans are good right?” He nods and stuffs the last of the meat into his saddle bag. “They're good but…have you ever made one before sweetheart?”  Part of you knows the nickname is being used in a derogatory way, maybe even a bit patronizing, but it still makes your stomach flip. “Once,” you say, "we had to make a run to a Superduper Mart for supplies. I got us in and out.” You sit cross-legged on the dirt, adjusting your hat. Pulling out a cloth, you begin cleaning the gore off your knife.   Cooper moves closer to start sawing off the hands. “Well,” he starts,” this is different than a Superduper Mart. How many men are on their side?” You wipe the blade as you think. “About twenty… No one else is joining them, but they’re all trained by Ray,” you say quietly, knowing he’s gonna scoff at you. On cue, he stops and laughs, “Oh, sugar, you ain't gonna make it!” You feel your cheeks and ears heat up once again and stammer out, “I–I'm not going in guns blazing if that's what you think, I-I…”  He cuts you off, putting his hand up to you. You can see how the radiation burns swirl and carve into his skin, making a pattern. “The only possible way,” he says,” of you getting back in there and saving Sue is by sneaking in or…” He smiles. Your stomach flips. You can't tell if it's a good flip or not, but you have a feeling you know what he’s thinking.  “Or?” Your voice is small as you ask.  “I take you as hostage and barter to get you back in there. They want y'all for something, they'll come looking.”  You swallow, looking at him a bit apprehensive. “You're gonna take me as a bounty aren't you?”  He points his knife at you. “Bingo! Don't worry, I won't tie you up quite yet.” He shoots you a wink and goes back to sawing off the hand. You're not quite sure what to do with yourself after that. Your heart begins to beat a little faster, not sure if you like that or not. “O-okay, so we'll pretend I'm bounty and sneak in.”  He whistles, finally getting the hand off. “Yup, I'll bring you in and we’ll take it from there. But first we gotta wait till they come for you. When they do, I gotta be a little rough to sell it. You understand don’t ya?” 

You nod, feeling your core beating a bit as you imagine how rough he'll have to be. “Y-yeah I understand, Mr. Howard.”  He hums at you answer, “Good girl. Now go get some sleep like the others. We got a long walk, starting tomorrow.”  You finish wiping the knife off and put it back in its strap. “Yes, sir.” The ghoul waves you off towards the small fire Lucy had made earlier. “Night, Bullseye,” he says lowly in a gruff voice. You give him a slight smile. “Night Mr. Howard.” Reaching the fire, you unroll your bedroll again and get in. The two-day trek to find Cooper began setting into your bones as your eyes flutter shut.   A dream starts to play in your mind as you drift off.  Strange music plays to the beat of hooves against the ground. You see the figure of a man on a horse, riding into the red and orange of the sky as you try to move towards him. It's like you’re  moving in slow motion as you try to reach out to the figure. A cloud of raised dust swirls into the sky as it begins to storm around you and the rider.  His figure and the beast he's on get closer as they rush to you. Their features never clear up, staying smoke and shadow-like as they skid to a stop in front of you. His hand unfurls from the reigns and reaches out towards you. Like a switch going off, the orange and red becomes blue and purple as your stomach flips and you start to sink into the sand beneath your feet. Scrambling, you reach out to the figure's hand but it passes through him. The hand drifted and parted like fog on water after summer rain. As you sink, darkness falls over you and you feel murky and dusty blue water ripple around your waist.  You watch for a moment as the water starts to ripple faster, turning into wake waves that crash into your chest, the coldness washing over you. You look up as a roar shakes the world and a mirelurk queen rises out of the deepest part of the water. You try to run, but your eyelids start to flutter open as the dream fades.  Your eyesight is blurry as you sit up, kicking the blanket off of you. Shroud groans when he feels your legs move. He must have moved over to you during the night. He gives you a look over his shoulder and huffs, before laying his big head back on his paws.  “Sorry buddy, morning,” you say softly, give his head a scratch. You sit up, stretching and yawning. It's quiet for a moment, before you hear Cooper's voice out of nowhere, making you jump. “Morning sleeping beauty, ‘bout time you woke up.” 

You whirl to look at his smirking face, amusement in his eyes from seeing you jump. Putting a hand on your chest to soothe yourself, you mutter to yourself, a bit louder than you mean to,“God you scared me.” He chuckles, “Didn't think I could do that to you anymore darlin’, good to know.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, no longer because of your fear. You laugh softly, trying to play it off, you look up seeing the sun just about to come up as orange and lavender painting the sky. “H-How long did I sleep for?”  He kisses his teeth and purses his lips as he thinks. “About six hours, give or take, but we gotta get goin’ before it gets too damn hot. So up and at 'em.”   Giving a nod, you get up and roll your bedroll back up and stuff it into your pack. You give Shroud some water and crack open a can of dog food, letting him chow down as you check and strap his armor on. You helped Lucy wake up  pack up as Cooper grumbled at her.  After a few more minutes,everyone is on the road. Both dogs and the 3 of you. It's hot and dry and the continuous crunch of sand and dirt under your boots quickly becomes repetetive. You can see heat waves ooze towards the sky and winds throw the sand around, dusting you and getting into your eyes.  Its monotony for hours on end, sending you into a haze that almost lulls you into a walking sleep. You’ll never know how the creatures here don’t die of heat exhaustion alone. Another hour goes by as Cooper stops, raising his fist in the air to stop you and Lucy.  His head cocks to the side as he listens. You stay still, waiting, trying to listen as well. You can't pick anything up, his senses are much more sensitive than yours. It takes only a few seconds before you hear something scrambling up a dune toward the three of you. The top of its head peeks up above the dune. Cooper's head snaps in its direction and he mutters, “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me!” 

[chososdiscordkitten]

life update:

im still in a rut, recently there's been a lot of construction in mai house so I haven't been getting that much sleep :( added with the horrid smokers/tuburculosis cough I had, and still having to go to work, I have been completely drained of my energy, inspiration, and money.

it has been a week since Ive last posted, and I have no fucking clue when ill post again (im so so so sorry)

it also doesn't help that people have been very mean in my inbox, and I put my life on hold to maintain this account- only to not see much progress in growth (im such an attention whore, I know) and to get back such negative marks on my writing.

by no means am I saying I am leaving this account- no. I just need a lil sabbatical where I have the opportunity to go outside on my days off, and not stay home for the sheer reason of, "I have to write." because I felt guilty for spending my free time not writing.

and I think that's why I have been so drained- ive spent allll my weekends since November saying, "no I cant go out today- I have to finish this piece before tommorrow."

people have taken advantage of my eagerness to please- being so demanding of free content and not giving me feedback on it- why spend days in my inbox asking for a req and when I finally post it- not even a reblog or a comment? whatever.

this has turned into a rant I didn't mean for it to, SORRRRYYY

anyway. I am grateful for the people who are active in my inbox and my comments, I see y'all and I love y'all for making me feel like my writing isnt some lower quality version of another author on here.

because, yes ive been told that, that I am a less talented version of a popular author on here.

and me thinks, from how much effort ive put into my fics, time, sleep, ignoring my physical needs just because I didn't wanna disappoint strangers on the internet, isnt worth it if im just gonna be compared to others on here.

I chose this- I know I did. and I will continue to choose it. I love the lil community ive built with people who I fucking appreciate sooooo very much for how much they've offered to me.

I will be back, I promise I will. my brain just hasn't been braining recently.

ive said it before- I will never fully leave this acc because I love it sooooo much, so I wont. but just for a lil bit.

if u wanna keep interacting w/ me, I have a twt where I spam shit, here it is :D

if you've read this far- KISS ME. ty for supporting me nd reading my 'lesser' writing lmaoooo

from a sad cowboy who misses choso,

Ten.

(p.s) I hate my new shower head :(