#dusty gust

[mylittlestims]

Dust Devil (the pegasus!) with sandstorms and dust devils, maybe also wheels kicking up dirt?

Dust Devil | Dusty Gust Stimboard with sandstorms

(X) (X) (X)

(X) (X) (X)

(X) (X) (X)

[lvcidli]

the wind is blowing so hard and in a way that constantly mimicks the sound of your car pulling in. you told me you would be on your way home hours ago and yet.. here i sit on this bed that is absolutely infested with the tears i shed for the sake of my loneliness. the bed is right next to this big drafty window. you know how i get cold so easily, but for some reason i can’t bring myself to climb into the covers because.. it feels the same to me as admitting to myself that you’re not coming home at all.

it’s 3:33 and i dare make a wish.

[writerthreads]

How to avoid White Room Syndrome

by Writerthreads on Instagram

A common problem writers face is "white room syndrome"—when scenes feel like they’re happening in an empty white room. To avoid this, it's important to describe settings in a way that makes them feel real and alive, without overloading readers with too much detail. Here are a few tips below to help!

Focus on a few key details

You don’t need to describe everything in the scene—just pick a couple of specific, memorable details to bring the setting to life. Maybe it’s the creaky floorboards in an old house, the musty smell of a forgotten attic, or the soft hum of a refrigerator in a small kitchen. These little details help anchor the scene and give readers something to picture, without dragging the action with heaps of descriptions.

Engage the senses

Instead of just focusing on what characters can see, try to incorporate all five senses—what do they hear, smell, feel, or even taste? Describe the smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery, or the damp chill of a foggy morning. This adds a lot of depth and make the location feel more real and imaginable.

Mix descriptions with actions

Have characters interact with the environment. How do your characters move through the space? Are they brushing their hands over a dusty bookshelf, shuffling through fallen leaves, or squeezing through a crowded subway car? Instead of dumping a paragraph of description, mix it in with the action or dialogue.

Use the setting to reflect a mood or theme

Sometimes, the setting can do more than just provide a backdrop—it can reinforce the mood of a scene or even reflect a theme in the story. A stormy night might enhance tension, while a warm, sunny day might highlight a moment of peace. The environment can add an extra layer to what’s happening symbolically.

Here's an example of writing a description that hopefully feels alive and realistic, without dragging the action:

The bookstore was tucked between two brick buildings, its faded sign creaking with every gust of wind. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of worn paper and dust, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee from a corner café down the street. The wooden floorboards groaned as Ella wandered between the shelves, her fingertips brushing the spines of forgotten novels. Somewhere in the back, the soft sound of jazz crackled from an ancient radio.

Hope these tips help in your writing!

[writers-potion]

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

[alvojake]

Lost In The Fire | P.SH

「pairing」 : sunghoon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.4k

「synopsis」 : you were a bored college student who didn't have very many friends, so when you stumble upon an old grimoire in a bookshop, you can't help but let your curiosity peak. you were warned to not cast one of the spells, but as luck would have it, you ended up casting that very spell, and you ended up face-to-face with Sunghoon. the incubus that you had summoned by mistake, but it was too late to go back now.

「genre」 : smut with little to no plot, incubus!sunghoon, human!reader

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, demon summoning, cussing, mentions of hell, petnames (kitten, doll, princess...), unprotected sex, choking, slight breath play, oral (fem. receiving), making out, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, manhandling, bulge kink, breeding, creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, edging, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this is for a very special birthday girl; everyone say happy birthday chelsea! (@ak4e7a) 🎊 I hope that you have a wonderful day bbg and you enjoy it to the fullest!! I honestly can't remember where this idea sprung up from, but I hope that you like it 🖤

It was well after midnight, and here you were, sitting on your bed with your legs crossed underneath you, a dusty, old grimoire sitting in your lap. You grabbed another chip out of the bag lying next to you as you flipped through the pages, trying to find the one that the girl at the bookstore showed you.

“Here it is.” You mumbled, dusting your hands off on your pajama pants and looking at the page with the yellow sticky note on it. Then you flipped to the next page, seeing a blue sticky note sticking to the page as well. Pursing your lips, you flipped between the pages, trying to remember what she had said.

“Make sure you’re casting the correct spell; otherwise, you’ll be summoning a demon.” That’s what she had told you, but you can’t recall which one it was that she had told you not to cast. Was it the blue one? Or the yellow one?

“I'm pretty sure it was the blue one that she said not to cast.” You hummed but then turned back to the previous page. "Or was it the yellow?” With a click of your tongue, you turned back to the page with the blue sticky note. " No, blue has to be the right one; yellow just screams caution.” Shrugging, you uncrossed your legs and stood, walking over to your desk to lay the book down.

Skimming through the instructions and list of materials needed, you stepped away to gather everything and set up the summoning circle.

Once everything was prepped and set up you grabbed the grimoire once more and read the last of the instructions.

“Lights need to be off, and make sure to light the candles in the right order…” You mumbled the instructions to yourself as you walked over to the light switch, turning the bedroom lights off. Blinking a few times, you let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the room before walking back over to the summoning circle.

You sit the heavy book on the bed and grab the lighter that was on your nightstand. After reading the correct order once more, you move to the circle and start to light the candles. The air in the room slowly starts to buzz with static, making the hairs on the back of your neck and arms stand up.

“Okay, last one.” You whispered before lighting the last candle and stepping back to admire your hard work. Letting out a sigh, you grab the grimoire off of your bed and trace the mantra with your finger, repeating it in your head a few times to make sure you’re saying it correctly.

Once you were sure that you had it memorized, you looked away from the book and stared right at the center of the circle. As soon as the words started to leave your lips, the flames on the candles started to burn brighter, and a gust of wind swept through the room.

An uneasy feeling started to settle in the pit of your stomach, but you tried your best to ignore it as you finished saying the mantra. However, when the last word left your lips, the candles went out as a huge gust of wind blew over you, causing you to cover your face with the grimoire. 

When the wind settled down, you brought the book away from your face, eyes focused on the summoning circle. You saw a figure of sorts standing in the center, but the darkness made it hard to see it fully.

A gasp fell from your lips when all of the candles relit themselves and the figure in the middle of the room became more clear. However, as soon as your eyes focused on the new light, you knew something wasn’t right.

Your eyes caught sight of the pair of deep red horns sitting upon his blonde hair. Trailing down, you took in what he was wearing: a black skin-tight sleeveless bodysuit showing off his arms. The muscle flexed slightly as he moved to look at you, his eyebrow quirking up at the sight of you just standing there. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his slacks, the same shade of black as his top, but the tail that was swaying softly behind him caught your attention.

Noticing the confusion in your eyes, Sunghoon smirked, tilting his head, “Not what you were expecting?”

Your whole body jolted at the sound of his voice, eyes shooting up to meet his before quickly looking back down at the grimoire that was still in your hands. Reading through the description of the spell you had just cast caused dread to wash over your body.

You had cast the wrong summoning spell.

“Shit.” You cursed quietly before looking back at the blonde male, “No, I did the wrong one; you need to go back.” Your voice wavered in panic as you realized that you had summoned the demon the girl had warned you about. What’s worse is he wasn’t just your regular ole demon. No. He was an incubus.

A sex demon.

Sunghoon’s lip twitched in amusement as he watched you fumble with the grimoire in your hands. Stepping out of the circle, he started to slowly stalk towards you, “You want me to go back?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, your heart racing under your ribs as he got closer, and you nodded your head. You started to step back when he got within arm's reach, but with every step back, he took another forward. “Hate to break it to you, doll, but that’s not how it works.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, hands clutching the grimoire to your chest as he leaned down until he was at eye level with you.

Sunghoon smirked, the point of his canine peeking out from behind his lips, soaking in the terror swirling in your eyes. He then reached forward, plucking the book from your hands with ease and tossing it off to the side.

“You have two options here,” His voice was smooth as he brought his hand up to your face, the tip of his fingers tracing your jaw as you stared at him with wide eyes. “You can either finish the ritual you so carelessly started or…” He trailed on as he moved his fingers down to your neck before encasing your throat in his palm, resulting in a choked gasp to leave your lips, and your hands instantly go up to wrap around his wrist. “I take you back to hell with me. The demons down there love fresh meat.” A sinister chuckle falls from his lips as he takes in your petrified expression, “Which is it gonna be, kitten?”

Your mind was reeling, fear and panic flooding your veins, but there was something else. The feeling of his hand around your neck and warm breath fanning your face left a burning in your tummy, a feeling you knew all too well and cursed yourself for feeling like that right now. Your thighs start to subconsciously rub together, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it was no use the longer Sunghoon had a hold of you.

Sunghoon already knew he had you in the palm of his hand the moment he saw you rubbing your tights together. His hand tightens around your throat as he moves closer to your body, a small squeak leaving your lips as a result.

“Though I think we both know what you want.” Your breath hitched in your throat when his lips brushed the shell of your ear. Heat traveled all throughout your body, coating your skin in a shade of red, causing the male to smirk.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips on your jaw, his free hand bruising over the exposed skin of your tummy, sending your stomach flipping. The grip you had on his wrist tightened as you tried not to let your mind fall into the pit of lust it so desperately wanted to. 

However, all of your resolve crumbled when his tail coiled around your thigh, pulling it away from the other. A choked gasp fell from your parted lips when his knee made contact with your throbbing core.

Sunghoon pulled away to take in your hooded eyes, lust pooling in your blown-out pupils, and he couldn’t help but snicker about how easy it was to get you to submit. He then let his hand slip past the waistband of your pajama pants, cupping your dripping cunt in his hand, relishing in the moan that slips from your parted lips.

“You mortals are so easy,” He smirked, bringing his face closer to yours once more, your eyes flickering up to meet his, “I just have to push the right buttons–” he pressed against your clothed clit, causing you to gasp, “and you turn into putty.”

A whine falls from your lips as he pulls away from you, but you are quickly silenced when he grabs your body, tossing you onto the soft material of your mattress. It only took seconds before Sunghoon had his body slotted between your parted legs, pressing his growing bulge against your core.

Sunghoon grabbed your wandering hands, pinning them above your head and moving down until he was a breath away from your face. 

“Sunghoon.” You looked at him, confused by the sudden name. " It's my name. Say it,” he demanded, pressing his body further against yours.

“Sunghoon.” You mewled as he rolled his hips against yours, and as soon as his name left your tongue, his lips were on yours, stealing all of the breath from your lungs.

His hand released yours, allowing you to wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hands, however, traveled the length of your body, pulling and tugging at the fabric of your clothes. Growing impatient, he pulled away from your lips, tearing your shirt off of your body and unclasping your bra before throwing both to the ground. 

Latching his lips to the exposed skin of your collarbone, you gasped, hands flying to his head, racking your fingers through his locks but stopping short when you felt his horn between your fingers. You traced along the edges of it listening to the groan that was pulled from his lungs, the sound sending goosebumps all over your skin.

Just then, his hand slipped under the waistband of your bottoms and underwear, pulling them off of your body in one swift motion. Your grip on his horn suddenly grew tighter when his fingers parted your folds, collecting some of your slick before pressing harshly on your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out, head falling back at the new sensation and your back arching off of the bed. Sunghoon chuckled against your skin as he took in all of the sounds that were leaving your lips every time he rubbed your clit before moving down to tease your slit.

Your hand slipped from his head as he kissed down the valley of your breast, lingering for a moment to feel your heartbeat against his skin. However, the scent of your wetness was driving him crazy, and he wanted a taste.

“You smell so sweet.” The growl he let out was almost animalistic as he came face to face with your weeping pussy, watching your hole clench around nothing. You whined as his warm breath washed over your skin, making you acutely aware of how close he was. “I need a taste before I pump you full of my cum.” 

His words had your eyes rolling back, a small plea falling from your lips, causing him to chuckle. Not another word left his lips as he grabbed your thighs, keeping them parted as he buried his face in your cunt.

“Sunghoon!” You screamed his name, hands flying to his head once more, but instead of grabbing his hair, you wrapped your fingers around his horn. A groan reverberated from his chest, sending vibrations straight to your cunt, causing another loud moan to leave your lips.

“You’re so noisy, kitten. Aren’t you worried that the neighbors will hear you?” Sunghoon teased you, the vibrations of his voice making your back arch off the bed, pushing your pussy further into his face. Chuckling darkly, he moves his hand to your lower tummy, pushing down hard enough to keep you in place, “such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Pleas–” Your words caught in your throat when he latched his lips to your clit once more, sucking harshly before moving down to prod at your slit with the tip of his tongue. The sensation was driving you mad. The pleasure that was flooding your body was almost too much.

Sunghoon continued this pattern until your legs were trembling around his head, and you were crying out that you were going to cum. However, right before you came, he pulled away from your soaping cunt, causing a whine to leave your lips, eyes begging him to continue.

Smiling coyly, he moved back up your body until he was face to face with you once more, “Don’t worry, kitten, you’ll get to cum, just on my cock.”

You gasped when his lips smashed into yours, the taste of yourself making your head spin. Sunghoon’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, and your head fell back when you felt the head of his dick poking at your entrance.

“Sunghoon!” You choked out as he trailed the tip of his dick from your entrance to your clit before just barely slipping it into your walls. He watched with an amused smirk as you squirmed underneath him, begging for him to just fuck you.

“You want my cock kitten?” Sunghoon cooed as he slipped just the tip in once more, but this time, he didn’t move anymore. He hummed, reaching up to trace your jaw with his fingers once more, catching your attention. “You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want, princess?”

Your head bobbed up and down like a broken bobblehead, lust-glazed eyes pleading with him, but it wasn’t enough for him. No, Sunghoon wanted to hear those words leave your pretty lips. A whimper left your lips as his hand wrapped around your throat, and the tears that had built up in the corner of your eyes started to fall.

“Say it.” He demanded, grip tightening around your pretty neck until your breathing was almost cut off entirely.

“Please, Sunghoon, fuck me and fill my pussy your cum.” You croaked, hands wrapping around his wrist, more pleas leaving your lips, but you were quickly cut off, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust.

Sunghoon groaned at how tightly your walls were squeezing him. The warmth of your walls drove him up a wall, and he started moving, barely giving you a chance to adjust. Choked moans and cries fell from your lips as his hips pistoned into yours, his fingers still firmly clasped around your throat.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He groaned as your gummy walls clenched around him. 

His hips snapped into yours at a harsh pace, making your brain turn to mush. Looking down, he took in the sight of your already fucked out expression, a cocky smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid; we just started, kitten.” He delivered a peculiarly hard thrust to your soaked cunt, eliciting a choked scream from your lungs, “Has no one ever fucked this pussy like this, hmm?” He asks but chuckles when all that leaves your lips are incoherent words.

Removing his hand from your throat, he moved down to grab both of your hips, granting him more leverage to fuck into you. A flurry of cries and moans leave your parted lips when he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, wanting to fuck you deeper.

“Shit, this pussy is mine from now on, got it?” He growled, fucking into you with an animalistic pace leaving you lying there breathless, stars dancing across your vision. When he didn’t get a response, he moved one hand down to pinch your clit, pulling a sharp cry from your lungs. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes! Yours! All yours, Sunghoon! Oh my god!” You screamed out, eyes rolling and fingers digging into the comforter underneath you.

Smiling sinisterly, Sunghoon moved his hand away from your clit to push down on your stomach, right where he could feel himself fucking into you. This action had you whining, back arching against his hand.

“Fuck! Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum!” You cried, one of your hands going down to grab his wrist, and your body started to tremble in his hold.

“Gonna cum already doll?” He teased, rolling his dick deeper into your walls, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Go ahead. Make a mess all over my cock kitten.”

With a few more thrusts, your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking all of the air from your lungs. Sunghoon groaned as your velvet walls squeezed around him like a vice, but his pace never faltered as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Sung– fuck!” You mewled as your high started to fade, only to be replaced with a sensitivity that left you whining, nails digging into the skin of his forearm.

“Be a good girl now, you’ll get my cum soon.” He leaned forward, folding your body until he was inches away from your face, “just like you wanted.” 

Then he stood straight and fucked into your gushing hole with renowned vigor, his grip on your hips being the only thing keeping you from melting into the mattress completely.

“Sunghoon!” His name left your tongue like a chant when he brushed over your sweet spot, jolts of pleasure sweeping across your body.

With a dark gaze, Sunghoon positioned his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust, causing tears to stream down your face. Your head fell back with a loud whine when he pressed against the bulge on your lower stomach again, relishing the way your body was reacting to his actions.

“‘S too much!” You cried out, the pleasure suddenly overwhelming your senses as another high crept up, but Sunghoon didn’t slow his pace nor move his hand. Instead, he moved his thumb to your clit, causing your body to shake viciously.

“Aw, is it really too much?” He cooed with a smug smirk, “Then why do you keep sucking me in?” 

A sharp cry left your parted lips when he pressed down on your clit once more, sending your body over the edge. White spots clouded your vision as silent screams fell from your lips, and your whole body shook as Sunghoon fucked you through yet another orgasm.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” Sunghoon groaned, his thrust faltering as he spilled his seed deep in your womb. The warmth that spread throughout your body was making you delirious, like he had just given you some kind of drug.

Lust fully took over your brain as he slowed his thrusts, and Sunghoon looked down, taking in the expression on your face, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, already knowing what had happened.

You whined as he pulled his still-hard cock from your weeping walls, begging him to put it back in, causing him to click his tongue. In a split second, he had you flipped over on your stomach, hands tugging on your hips until they were where he wanted them before teasing your entrance with his tip once more, listening to you whine and beg him.

“We’re not done yet, kitten,” He leaned over your body, chest flat against your back as his warm breath fanned your ear, “I still have so much more left to give you.” He pressed a searing kiss to your temple before pulling back and thrusting into you once more.

He fucked you all night long until he spilled every last drop of his cum into your womb, not letting a single drop leave as he plugged your hole with his dick keeping it all deep inside.

“You’re mine.” Those were the last words that you heard leave his lips before your vision faded to black.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[corroded-hellfire]

My gorgeous soulmate. The love of my life. I can’t stop thinking about Reader waiting for a ride and accidentally overhearing Eddie talking to the Hellfire guys about some beautiful girl and how he’s afraid to ask her out. Reader assumes it’s someone else and leaves because she’s upset and doesn’t want him to see her. Bonus points for wingman Dusty Bun, but not necessary. Okay love you byeeeeee xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hello, my darling dearest. I hope you enjoy this and I love you too! 💕

Words: 1.5k

Band practice ran late, but that didn’t matter one bit. Your older brother was always running behind to pick you up, leaving you the lone person sitting outside the school, waiting. Usually, you had a book with you, but you’d finished your last one and hadn’t gotten a chance to check a new one out of the library today. Honestly, the fierce autumn wind may have prevented you from reading anyway; the pages would be obeying Mother Nature, not you. The wind whistles and whips so viciously that you slide off of the brick wall you’re sitting on top of and seat yourself on the cold sidewalk, pressing as close to the wall as you can to avoid the harsh blowing.

Luckily, the gust eases up and you only end up having four leaves stuck to your clothing. As you’re picking them from your gray sweater, you hear the telltale squeak of the main doors of the school opening. Your brow creases in confusion because you didn’t realize anyone else was here this late. The dark evening has your mind floating back to the dozens of slasher movies you’ve seen that started with this very scenario. Taking care to be as quiet as possible, you tuck your legs up against your body as you hug your backpack to your chest.

“Damn Eddie, I’ve never heard you talk this way before.”

The voice is vaguely familiar. Nancy’s brother maybe? Right! He’s in Hellfire with Eddie Munson, who must be the Eddie he’s speaking to. An involuntary smile curls on your lips at the boy you’re head over heels for being just a few feet away. The closer they get, the easier it is for you to hear the thunk of the metalhead’s boots coming down the sidewalk. 

“Ugh, I know,” Eddie says, a hint of a whine in his happy-go-lucky voice. “But she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The butterflies in your stomach sour, churning at hearing Eddie talk this way about some girl. He’s not doing anything wrong, and logically you know that. He doesn’t owe you anything. But irritation bubbles up in you as a defense from the heartbreak you’re desperately trying to run away from. Your fingers dig into your backpack as you squeeze your eyes closed to prevent the tears from leaking out.

“Ask her out!” That voice was Jeff’s—from your history class.

Eddie scoffs and you can just picture him shaking his head, his frizzy curls swaying back and forth. The thought of Eddie asking a girl out forces the hot tears to leak down your face, despite how tightly you’ve been keeping them closed. 

“Like she would want to go out with me,” he says. 

Now your heart also breaks for Eddie. Who could be so stupid as to not want to go out with him?

“Aww, I think you’re scared,” another voice goads. Probably the curly-haired boy that’s friends with the Wheeler boy. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says. “I’m just…afraid.”

“That’s the same thing!” Wheeler says before you hear a thump and the boy mutters an, “Ow!”

“Shut it, Wheeler. I don’t want to hear shit from you or Henderson on girls. Both of your girls live far away. Huh, kind of convenient, isn’t it?” Eddie asks. “They’re probably as real as the damn hair on top of Higgin’s head.”

“Hey!” Wheeler shouts.

“That’s bullshit!” the boy who must be Henderson shouts at the same time.

“You guys are letting him change the subject,” Jeff says. “When are you going to ask her out?”

Instead of giving an answer, you can hear Eddie grumbling under his breath the closer they get to you. It won’t be long now before they’ll walk past the wall and see you sitting on the ground. Waiting for a ride is easy enough to explain, but the tear tracks running down your face are a different matter. 

Before the group of guys can get any closer, you carefully push yourself onto your knees. Balancing yourself against the wall with one hand, you seek out somewhere you can hide. The corner of the wall is pretty far away, you’d never be able to crawl there fast enough. If you stand up though, you could walk that distance. Realizing crouching down so far is going to kill your back, you push up to your feet and keep your torso and head low as you speedwalk to the corner of the wall. 

Luckily, it’s just a grassy lawn on the other side of the wall, so you throw yourself down on it and catch your breath. Unluckily, you hear the piercing whine of your brother’s car pulling up towards Hawkins High. Fuck. Of course he comes now. 

You peek out from your safe space around the wall and see that Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire gang are climbing into Eddie’s van. A rush of breath leaves your lungs and you’re sure your adrenaline is about to come crashing down.

Your brother pulls up to the curb and you push yourself off of the grass and quickly slide into the passenger’s seat. 

“Uh, you okay?” your brother asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine,” you huff. “Just go.”

Like the piece of gum you’d stepped in last week, the sharp pains in your heart stay with you much longer than you’d like. The next day, right before last period, you’re at your locker, switching out your books and hoping your eyes don’t look as puffy as they feel.

“Uh, hey.”

The voice makes you jump and drop your biology book. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is; you’d know that voice anywhere. It’s just never been so close to your ear before.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie says as he bends down to pick up your book. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you manage to say as you turn around to face him. “Thank you,” you say as he gives you your science book back. 

Eddie clears his throat and glances over his shoulder before looking back at you—or rather, your shoes. Curious, you follow the line of sight where Eddie had just looked, and you see the curly-haired boy from Hellfire peeking around the corner. Henderson. As soon as he notices you looking, he pops back out of sight. 

“I, uh,” Eddie says as he finds the courage to meet your eye. “Hey.”

“You said that,” you say with a shy smile. “But then I freaked out, so…hi.”

The smile Eddie gives you isn’t his biggest by far, but it still makes your knees go wobbly. 

“You’re in band, right?” Eddie asks, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. 

“I am.”

“Yeah. So, I was wondering if maybe after the game this Friday you might want to grab a bite to eat? With, um, me?”

The world freezes around you, time completely stopping. Your body is locked in place as you stare at Eddie with wide eyes. He just asked me out, you think. Why would he ask me out? He thinks that other girl is beauti—holy shit. I’m the beautiful girl he was talking about? This defies all that you thought you knew in the world. Is this a parallel universe where guys actually like you back? You realize you’ve just been staring at him since you spoke.

“Yeah. T-That sounds nice,” you say.

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes light up and your heart comes to a halt inside your chest.

“Yes,” you say with a small chuckle.

“Wow. Awesome. Okay, wow.” His disbelief shocks you. How in the hell was he afraid to ask you out? You’re just…you. He gives you a wider grin now before tugging up the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Do you have a pen?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah!” You grab a pen from your locker and write down your number on Eddie’s pale skin, right below a colony of inked bats. 

“Great,” Eddie says as he pulls his sleeve back down. “Um, I’ll wait in the gym after the game?”

“Sure. It’ll only take me a few minutes to change and get everything put away.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says again, and seeing him acting this nervous just tickles you pink. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him say “awesome” before and now he’s said it twice within the last minute. “I guess I’ll see you in English tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Oh, Eddie, wait. You’re going to go to the game?” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “I thought you hated basketball.”

“Oh. Well, I do,” he says with a chuckle. “Easier to take you out after the game if I’m there, though. And, uh, you know, Sinclair’s been bugging me to come see him play.”

“Right,” you say. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light red as he gives you a bashful smile. 

“See you later, beautiful,” he says. He doesn’t give you time to even react to his words before he’s heading down the hall. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. “I make Eddie nervous?”

A jovial giggle slips past your lips as you close your locker. You feel like you owe the Hellfire guys a thank you. 

[clock-warmer]

First draft for an idea about a skeptic having a ghost encounter 🩷

Reader X ghost/s

You are a skeptic, exploring a supposedly "haunted" location with your partner who is a believer. Having felt cold touches and hearing strange noises all night they are afraid and leave you alone in the building. What happens inside turns you from a skeptic into a firm believer of the paranormal. 💓

Warning: This work contains,

breeding kink, reluctant/noncensent, threesome, blowjobs, degradation, creampie, facial, paranormal activity

Sexual content below the break 💓

There wasn't much you were afraid of going into buildings like these, you were a skeptic afterall. The same couldn't be said for your partner. Any slight thump or gust of wind had them jumping into your arms like an episode of Scooby doo. It was much the same when exploring the now abandoned Krolik Academy. Stairs creaked as the two of you applied weight, carefully stepping fearful about the floor falling out from under you.

"Fuck I want to go back please" your partner begged, this usually marked the end of your exploration but today you felt the unexplored corridors calling to you, feelings of cold chills running up and down your body, favouring travelling up your inner thighs.

"In a bit," you said, "we've barely seen anything" you move the flashlight around continuing further into the building despite your partner's fear. The fear wasn't unusual for them though, it was never a real concern when they started getting jumpy.

"Please I keep feeling like I'm being grabbed" they begged, you feel a grabbing on your wrist and turn around to see them further than a reaching distance away.

"Your just imagining it" you groaned, "like always. If your that scared you can go wait in the car" they just scoffed turning on their heel and making their way down the stairs.

Your eyes need to readjust now that there is less light, as soon as you hear the heavy wooden doors slam shut you feel more of the cold feeling traveling all over you. As if it's going through your clothes, you feel the cold sensation drawing lazy circles around your nipples. They harden under your bra. You cross your arms over your chest feeling violated by the wind, because that's the only explanation right? It's just the wind?

Your thoughts feel as if they aren't your own, flooding your head.

Such a prude.

Not like covering up will stop us much.

Acting all nervous as if she's not a slut absolutely desperate for it.

"What the fuck?" You exclaim out loud shocked by the things popping into your head. It had been a little while since you had gotten some action but you never knew yourself to be quite so down bad. Though with your partner waiting in the car, you didn't bother stopping the filthy thoughts now fuelling your actions.

Go lay on the table.

You feel compelled to obey your thoughts, a constant pressure against your clothed pussy and a soothing coolness massaging your breasts. The table you found was covered by a thick blanket of Gray dust that clung to your finger when you curiously dragged your finger across the surface.

Without warning you felt yourself be shoved down, hands catching yourself from falling face first into the dusty table, "wha-?"

Such a good little idiot doing what I say

You feel your shirt being unzipped and your bra being removed, your left dumbfounded and cold. Your shaking. What the fuck is happening to you. A firm grip finds your left breast and you feel a coolness meet your back as your pushed up slightly. Your flashlight laid on the table illuminating the empty dining room just enough for you to connect the sound of something dragging along the hardwood floors to the chair moving inexplicably closer to you.

Open your mouth

You don't, borderline terrified. You couldn't blame all this on just the wind. You feel a cold, hard something smack your cheek... playfully?

I said to open your mouth darling~

You shook your head rapidly tears welling up in your eyes as an invisible hand grabs you by the chin, another smack against your cheek. This time the other side. The same thing that smacked against your cheek drags across to your lips rubbing along them. The hand on your chin moves up to your hand almost instantly tangling itself in it, tugging slightly.

We know you want to now open wide

Your pants get pulled down alongside your panties, you can't see well in the light but there's a slightly darker patch from the slick leaking out of your cunt from being manhandled by the invisible assailants.

When something rubs up from your cunt, through your folds and up to your clit the cold feeling leaves you gasping which is when they take advantage of your mouth hanging open. The cock like object slides into your mouth reminding you of a popsicle as it sat still on your tongue.

There's a good girl, suprised you weren't begging to warm up my cock. Your as wet as a slut I wonder why your not acting like one.

Cold grabbing of your ass cheeks nearly manage to distract you from the cock in your mouth. Seperating your cheeks slightly before massaging them again and then repeating, slowly feeling something equally as big enter your cunt, feeling yourself stretch around it.

Such a good girl, taking us so well.

"Mmphh" you moan around the phantom cock in your mouth, sending vibrations up to the recipient warning a couple pulses in your mouth.

The pace of the cock fucking you from behind quickens, forcing you forward. your elbows holding your upper body up off of the dusty table. The harder and faster your fucked the deeper and faster the cock fucks your face, leaking a freezing cold liquid down your throat.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

The thought was simple and bouncing around your head, you couldn't even tell if it belonged to you or the entities balls deep in you.

Without warning your mouth is left empty and you feel as a liquid the temperature of ice water but the texture of glue coats your face. Your panting some of the liquid having pooled in your mouth is dripping out onto the table.

Sorry it's been so long~

Don't fucking apologize look at the mess this slut just made all over our house. Should have been grateful and swallowed every last drop.

There is a grip placed on your hips, cold and firm feeling like it may leave bruises as it slams into your dripping cunt with enough force to send you forward. Pleasure so strong your arms give out and your chest is pressed against the dusty table, sticky cheek collecting dust on the residue. "unghhh" you couldn't withhold your moans too well with your hole being ravaged like that. Thighs shaking as the pressure built up in your core.

You couldn't contain yourself any longer, squirting down your legs as the phantom fucks up against your cervix. The pulsing of your orgasm milking the freezing cum out of the cock.

Instantly the cold hands and cocks can no longer be felt, leaving you empty and longing. You stand on shaking legs tears slowly trickling down your cheeks from the overstimulation, grabbing the abandoned flashlight you rush down to your partner still patiently waiting for you in the car, the lights on as they say in the driver's seat.

"Are you okay??" They asked a worried expression as they scanned over your disheveled self "you look like you've seen a ghost"

[blondieeu]

prettypretty. megumi f.

megumi was just so pretty to you.

even if the word was directed to women, and them being pretty in their feminine form you thought pretty was just the perfect word for him.

everything he did was beautiful. the way he smiled, how messy he looked whenever he just woke up and you facetimed him, he was gorgeous all the way down to the simple way he tied his shoes.

he was pretty when he danced because he thought no-one was watching, shrugging his shoulders to some beat not knowing you hadn't taken your eyes off of him.

how he would smile to himself when you did small things for him. like watering the little plants he had stored in his room, or bring him something to eat because for some reason you knew his eating pattern.

he was even pretty when you'd go out together and some gust of wind would blow the hair right out of his face, trying his best not to look bothered so he could fix his hair.

the way megumi cried was beautiful. when he'd allow himself to be vulnerable around you and let salty tears that almost looked like crystals fall from his eyes he was still pretty. his nose would get all red and his cheeks a dusty scarlet as he poured all his troubles and worries out to you.

megumi was stunning.

blondieeu xx

[lendeah]

Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.

Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

Summary:

Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.

Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.

Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻

"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.

Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.

"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.

The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".

Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."

"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"

Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"

So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.

Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"

He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"

He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."

I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"

He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.

He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."

Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.

"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.

"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.

"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.

I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"

Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."

You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."

You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"

Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.

"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.

"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."

At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."

"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.

"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.

A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."

The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.

His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"

"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.

Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"

"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.

You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."

"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.

"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.

"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.

Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.

"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper

He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"

You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."

"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."

His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"

You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."

Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.

"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.

"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.

"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."

He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.

"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."

As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."

Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.

"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."

Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.

A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.

"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."

He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.

Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.

"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.

You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.

"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.

You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.

"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.

"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.

You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."

He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.

Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."

You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.

"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."

His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."

You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.

"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.

"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.

"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.

"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.

"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.

Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,

"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"

[callooopie]

The night, she calls me.. // Vampire!HOTD men

Come with me to the other side. Make the girl in black your bride — The Night // Aurelio Voltaire

It took all my willpower to not make this like a What We Do in the Shadows bit. No one asked for this either.. so that’s why I’m writing it. Is this gonna be a series of headcannons? No… no. No no… no no nono. I’ve started tooooo many writing projects I cannot… or can I 😏 (I actually can’t I have too many requests I need to lock in on)

Did you know what land you were walking on? Did you see the figure watching you from the top floor window? Was that a shadow you saw out the corner of your eye?

Davos Blackwood // Bloody Lord of Raventree Hall

A manor buried in the dark forests of Blackwood Vale, an urban legend surrounded the woods and the semi-ghost town beside it. Locals would talk of a figure that walked the empty streets at night, and the older residents would sometimes speak of an old estate once owned by a wealthy family that could be found in the heart of the forest. But no one has seen this place, or perhaps no one has ever returned alive to tell the tale.

The ever playful lord of Raventree Hall likes toying with his victims before they meet their bloody demise. If a fool ever gets lost on his land, Davos will follow them around in the form of a raven, acting as if he was leading them to the help they desperately called out for. Some would fall for it; the ‘guiding’ corvid that had brought them to this dusty manor. Little did they know, they wouldn’t be leaving that place.

He’s the type to make Raventree Hall look appealing and safe to the unwitting person, sometimes even playing the part of a humble boy who lives in his family’s old home. He’d learn all about a person as he feeds them food, bloody meat cooked to perfection for any human. Eat up, Davos would say, it’s a good cut of meat.. he’d hate for it to go to waste. Oh? The red wine tastes metallic? Strange.. perhaps a bottle gone bad?

He’d keep his lover human, not out of admiration of their humanity—but as more of a ‘pet’. The only reason Davos would turn a human into a vampire would be for his own entertainment purposes. It’s more fun when you can handle him and not pass out every time he does something. Plus, he wants the security of knowing you won’t be leaving him anytime soon. Forever stuck by his side, living forever in a world of night and pleasure by his doing and his doing alone.

Before you become his lovely lady, perhaps you’re one of those lost souls who stumble upon the estate. Either by poor luck or poorer fortunes, you catch the attention of Davos. He scares you from the shadows, setting candles alight with just a gust of wind, slamming doors and sending phantasms to spook you with howls and haunting steps, sending ravens and crows to caw and peck at you. It’s only when you get to the main atrium of the manor does he strike. A sinister smile on his pale face as he lunges at you from out of nowhere, teeth sinking into the skin of your neck as hands travel up and down your torso.

A master of shadows and tricks, Davos isn’t one to meet his adversaries head on. He doesn’t think they deserve his attention. He can deal with vampire hunters and celebrity ghost hunters with a wave of his hand from his bed chambers at the very top of the manor. He can make it as if ghouls are chasing around those idiots, birds seemingly attacking them on sight, if he’s feeling funny he might summon a demon or two. Why does he have the title of bloody lord? Well, he’s just a messy eater, and the corpses he leaves behind are unrecognizable from what they once were.

Jacaerys Velaryon // Draconic Prince of the Night

The picturesque village that the castle of Dragonstone sits next to has gained a plethora of tourists. However, no one has ever been allowed inside. From a mixture of local superstition, and simply because the wooden gates and doors will not open. Nothing can break, or even burn, the wood. Cursed or blessed, many have stayed away from that castle said to have been forged by dragon fire.. if local legends are to be believed.

Local legends also speak of how beautiful women are kidnapped from their homes and beds, never to be seen ever again. As a tourist, you believe you’re safe.. and you don’t really believe in those tales.. at least you don’t believe them until you awaken in a bed that’s not the hostel’s.

Jacaerys is a vampire who is easily bored. He wants someone who’ll keep up with him. A pretty princess to take care of and to simply sit like a doll, but also one who has a bit of wit and brain to them. Someone to go hunting with, or to fly around in the dead of night together. Someone to chase, someone to have intellectual conversation with.

A little more serious than a certain bloodthirsty lord, Jacaerys will turn his lover almost immediately. What’s the use in keeping you human and mortal? There is no use! Now you’re just like him, and you two can bond and be merry together in that lonesome stone castle. All the others he had spirited away were awfully dull, perhaps you will be different?

Like a dragon, he hoards his treasures. He’ll keep you close, too close almost. Jacaerys will hand feed you blood, lifting someone’s arm up to your mouth and praising you for dining on the thick liquid and flesh. He’ll hover near you, you two are royalty after all. It’s good for a prince like him to check up on his princess. He’ll dress you in gold and red fabrics, or maybe nothing at all! Jacaerys does like it when you’re only clad in gold and gems, sit yourself down on his mountains of treasure and make your nest; he’ll show he’s a good dragon who takes care of his mate.

A scholar of dragon magic, the only thing that can destroy his castle is what made it in the first place. Dragon fire. And dragons died out long long ago sweet thing (or never existed at all…). He’s perhaps the only one that remains! Believe whatever you will, Jacaerys will happily prove to you that dragons are real. And you believe it as you watch him transform into one to deal with trespassers who had somehow broken into the castle. Sure there’s ways in if your crafty enough, but what people don’t say is that there’s no way out once you’re in. The charred piles of bones that litter the treasure room are a testament to that.

Cregan Stark // Vampiric King in the North

Perhaps the only one out of the trio to be semi-normal. An urban legend surrounds the snowy mountains of a large wolf that leads lost wanderers to an empty yet warm and alive stone keep. It’s said if you stay for one night and leave the next day, you’ll find your way back to civilization. However, overstay your welcome and you won’t be heard from ever again…

Your car had broke down, and you hadn’t expected such a large snowstorm to sweep through. You’re on the brink of hypothermia, however you spot something in the distance. The howl of a wolf reaching your ears as the wild beast walks toward you. It almost seems to gesture toward you with its head, beckoning for you to follow. You’ve heard this legend, and so when you find yourself in the safety and warmth of a stone fortress you do your best to remain courteous and respectful. The plan was to leave in the morning, however when you try to open the large wooden door to leave—it slams shut on you before locking tightly.

Cregan likes your humanity, wishing only to learn from you. He would not covet you like a prize, nor would he treat you like a pet. To turn you without your consent? Unfathomable. If you wish to be turned, he would gladly do so at your request. Although he would tell you what you’ll miss, what you will be letting go of in exchange for this eternal life of coldness and blood. Perhaps it’ll all be worth it in the face of his love and companionship?

Teach him everything about you, and he’ll teach you all he knows. Cregan’s an old soul who’s lived more lifetimes than he can remember. He’s powerful, ancient; that uppity prince and cocky lord answer to him! He’s their overlord, they are his mere sons subordinates. All that aside, Cregan has vast collections of knowledge from throughout the ages. Although do remember, he scratches your back, and you will scratch his. Or he’ll show you what happens to those who’ve forgotten such an important lesson.

Unlike his underlings, Cregan can control his appetite for blood. He’s learned, and so he keeps a stockpile of it. Some of it ages like wine in a cellar, other bottles he keeps near and close. A special cabinet is reserved for special blood of course. What? You’ve never tried the blood of a priest? It’s heavenly.

Unlike the other two, Cregan lives more on red meats. Which he can get from almost anything. Although due to the coldness of the region, not many animals venture out. For a special occasion, you’ll find your plate full of fresh organs and fatty raw meat. A glass of thick red liquid right next to your plate. Cheers and eat your fill, it’s fresher than fresh. And who knows when an unsuspecting person will come up these mountains again?

[eilorow]

Werebro - Part 1

Aaron packed up his books and walked out of the university’s library. It wasn’t the first time he studied so late in the evening; it was quite common for him, actually. However, as soon as he stepped outside, he shivered due to a sudden gust of cold wind. “Brr, why is it so cold already, it’s only sunset,” he thought. He shot a glance at the dark pink sky. The full moon was already there, a big glowing orb illuminating the horizon in front of him. “I better take the underground tunnels. Guess I’ll look for werewolves another time,” Aaron whispered under his breath, chuckling. It was a recurring joke between him and his roommate.

The university student went back inside the building and made his way down to the tunnels, a slower, but warmer path to the parking lot. Walking through the dusty passageway, he could hear someone’s footsteps ahead. Running into someone at this hour was unexpected, but he wasn’t worried about it; it was probably another student just like him, staying late to prepare for the upcoming exams. Sure enough, as he turned the corner, he saw a small young man walking in front of him. Although they were going in the same direction, Aaron could tell he was carrying a pile of books in his arms. He seemed to be struggling with them, though: for a second, he looked as though he lost balance, then he dropped the heavy books on the floor all around him. The young man cursed under his breath; he seemed stressed, almost panicked, so Aaron went over to help him. The student definitely looked like the type to struggle with heavy objects: his oversized polo shirt failed to hide his skinny arms, and his jeans accentuated his spindly legs. His round face made him look shy, and his embarrassment only made him seem weaker.

“Hey, need some help? Those look heavy,” Aaron said, bending down to collect the books. However, the second he did, the other boy took a step back and started apologizing: “N-no, don’t bother, it’s okay. No, really, leave it, I should be fine.” Even if he said he didn’t want any help, his weak voice betrayed him. Aaron collected all the books into a neat pile, picked them up (they really were heavy) and handed them to the student. Weirdly enough, from up close, he didn’t look so weak; his arms filled his sleeves nicely, and his protruding Adam’s apple jutted out from the collar of his shirt. Standing in front of each other, they were at the same eye level. “Thanks, man,” he said, in a clearer voice than earlier. “No problem, good night!” replied Aaron, happy he could help.

The other student started walking again, faster than before. However, he didn’t make it ten steps before he dropped his books again, letting out a loud scream. Aaron rushed to his side, but something was definitely wrong this time: the other guy was holding his head between his hands, showing a surprisingly toned bicep. His jeans, almost baggy earlier, were tightly wrapped around his legs, and riding up towards his calves. Aaron finally understood what was going on: he was growing. The guy shot him one last look and managed to groan “Get away!” before his body shot upwards: his pecs grew noticeably bigger, popping the first button off his polo, and he grew taller, so that his shirt no longer covered the lower part of his abdomen. The first signs of abs could be seen below it. Aaron just stood there, mesmerized by the transformation unfolding in front of him. The man started fidgeting with his belt buckle, his thickening fingers making it more and more awkward. Finally, he managed to unfasten his belt, letting his pants down and revealing his powerful thighs underneath. His underwear also seemed to be tightening by the second, with a growing pouch at the front and a ballooning ass at the back.

The growing man clenched his fists, showcasing his powerful knuckles. He let out a deep groan as his shoulders broadened and his arms grew even bigger; the second button of his polo popped as his upper arms completely destroyed its sleeves. His chest was pushing outwards, his pecs taking up even more space under his shirt, until it ripped apart, hanging loosely on his lean but muscular frame. Aaron could see his chiseled abs, now fully exposed. As he was staring at them, he heard a loud noise and looked down: the hunk’s feet were slowly ripping through his shoes, laces snapping and seams bursting, letting his socked feet stretch slowly along the ground.

Grunting again, the changing man lifted his powerful legs and stepped out of the remains of his pants and shoes. While he stepped forward, he easily ripped off the remains of his shirt too. With another loud groan, he suddenly slammed both of his arms on the wall, leaning against it for support as the last part of his transformation began. His once round and shy face was reforming, becoming square and handsome. Stubble appeared along his sharpening jawline, and his brows furrowed. As his fingers elongated, palms stretching on the wall, his underwear showed signs of pressure. His dick was hardening and growing at the same time, visibly testing the limits of the piece of cloth. With a final grunt, his transformation came to a stop.

As the man opened his eyes, Aaron could tell he was not the same shy student he just helped with his books. The man turned his head towards him, and as he looked him in the eye, Aaron felt an unsettling feeling take him over. He quickly turned away, looking at the ground as he swiftly made his way towards the parking lot. “Hey man, what’s wrong?” the guy said, in a much, much deeper voice than earlier. “Come on, bro, I just wanna talk.” Aaron was tempted to trust him, to turn around, but he decided he wanted nothing to do with whatever was happening there. However, as he walked forwards, he could hear muffled footsteps behind him: the bro was following him. Aaron quickened his pace, hoping to make it to his car in time.

Entering the underground parking lot, Aaron quickly made his way towards his parking spot. It wasn’t that far away, but with someone following him, it seemed like miles. However, just as he spotted his car a few lots away, he also saw another guy in front of him. “Help!” Aaron shouted, desperate for any help he could get. “Get him away from me!” he continued, waving in the approximate direction of the hunk following him. However, as he got closer, he noticed the man was leaning forward against the wall. Around him, haphazardly scattered on the floor, were a pair of shoes and a pair of socks. Horror struck Aaron as he realized what was happening, just in time to see the man, with a grunt and a loud noise, bend forward and rip his shirt down the back. Aaron stopped dead in his tracks, not knowing where to go, and just stared at the second hunk as he, too, began his transformation. This one was smoother, as if he was used to it. He used his enlarging hands to grab the front of his t-shirt and rip it clean off, showcasing his already huge arms. His legs were filling up what seemed to be loose-fitting jeans, which somehow made his thighs look even bigger. His bare feet stretched along the ground, toes thickening slightly like the rest of his body. The second hunk then turned around to look at Aaron, who seemed to be stuck in place. He gave him a sly smile as his jaw sharpened, gaining handsome features that made it even harder to look away. 

Aaron was lost in the guy’s eyes, experiencing feelings he’d never felt before, resigning to the situation he found himself in. The man’s pecs heaving up and down with every breath, he slowly made his way towards Aaron. Before the guy got to him, however, Aaron felt a warm hand on his neck. He didn’t feel like running away anymore. He turned around, facing the first bro and his penetrating eyes. “Come on, bro,” he said. “You know you want it.” And Aaron did want it. His mouth was agape, staring at the handsome man in front of him. The bro delicately undid Aaron’s belt buckle and let down his pants and underwear, exposing his throbbing cock to the cool air. Aaron, as if he knew exactly what was expected of him, kneeled in front of the man and slowly slid his underwear down. As the hunk’s huge dick sprung out, he simply stared at it, lips inches away from its throbbing tip. As he felt the bro’s hand on his neck again, Aaron hungrily started sucking his cock. “That’s it, bro, keep going,” he vaguely heard him say. As he kept going, he felt the other bro’s dick entering his ass, from the back. Caught between both, he felt more pleasure than ever, as could be seen by the amount of pre that was leaking out of his cock. However, noticing that is what pulled him out of his trance, as he realized what was happening. He quickly spat out the first bro’s dick just as the guy came, cum landing all over the floor and, a little, on his Aaron’s shirt. Aaron also felt the second bro’s cock slide out of his ass, the moans behind him indicating he was also cumming. However, the student quickly managed to slide his underwear and pants back on, wipe off what he could from his shirt, and make his way to his car. As he drove out, he shot a glance at the two bros through his rearview mirror: they seemed to be flirting in some way, feeling each other’s muscles and performing various strange handshakes. Aaron didn’t have more time to analyze their strange behavior, though, and he made his way home as fast as he could.

-----

As soon as he entered his dorm, Aaron took a shower to wash off anything that could still be on him from the two bros. He wondered what could have made him want to have sex with them; it was unlike him to go for random hookups, and with guys? Never. It was weird, though; ever since he came back, he had the weird feeling it wasn’t going to be the last time…

[ghost-proofbaby]

you mentioned summer storms with Eddie or something one day in a random post and I haven't stopped thinking about it so

can I get a midsummer's night with LOTS of 🍓🍓🍓🍓 about that? Thank you very much Ghost 💞

OH I'VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE!!!! it took on a life of it's own, forgive me.

summer storms

warnings: honestly just tooth-rottingly cheesy. tried to add alllll the fluff. not edited.

wc: 1.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

It was your favorite part of the summer. You couldn’t stand the heat half the time, you couldn’t bear all the bugs that would make their arrival known through incessant bites you’d only notice after spending the day out, and you could cry at even the simple memory of every sunburn you’ve ever endured in your lifetime. There was a lot to hate about the summertime – but this? This was one of the good parts.

The moment you’d seen the ominous clouds on the horizon, you’d known where your night was going to end up. One howl of the wind against your living room window, and you knew your plans for the night. 

All roads led to the Forest Hills trailer park when the summer storms started rolling in. 

In your youth, all through high school, there’d been plenty of scoldings about how the trailer park isn’t the safest place during these storms, dear. Endless lectures on how you and your solace in the form of a best friend should just spend those stormy nights at your own house, inside sturdy walls and within an infallible AC. But they didn’t get it; there was something in the way you’d experience a storm at the Munson trailer that couldn’t compare to home. 

“It’s so hot,” Eddie whines from where he stretches out on his bed, all windows thrown wide open to let the dusty and humid winds slip their way in. Petrichor and discount cologne was swirling around you, wrapping its tendrils around your ankles and wrists alike as you were starfished out on the surprisingly cleaned bedroom floor of Eddie Munson. 

He’d spent the day embarking on his weekly cleaning spree – you’d spent the day holed up in Melvard’s for an unbearingly long shift. 

“I wish it’d just rain already,” you murmur, turning your head to catch a glimpse out the open window. The sky was a mirage of deep tones, rusted oranges laced with all the dirt being kicked up by the winds and navy blues painting the clouds that had built up to hold all the moisture adding to the smothering heat, “At least then all this misery would be worth it.”

Eddie sits up only to throw himself onto his stomach, head hanging over the edge of the mattress to smile down at you, “Wanna bet on how long it’ll take?”

“Take to what?”

“Rain, dumbass.” 

“Don’t call me a dumbass, asshat. How was I supposed to know what you-”

You’re cut off by the sound of rolling thunder, coming in waves along with a particularly strong gust of wind that makes all of Eddie’s posters whip against the walls they were pinned to. It’s enough to shut you both up as the echoes of the entire trailer rattling surround you. 

“Jesus,” Eddie whistles lowly, head lifting up to look outside for a few moments. When his eyes return to yours, they're full of mischief. “Fuck the bet, wanna race?” 

“Eddie, start being more specific, or fuck off,” you groan just as he leaps up, hopping off his bed with unexpected speed. 

All he cries out over his shoulder as lightning strikes in the sky waiting outside is, “Loser has to wash a load of Wayne’s jeans!” 

That gets you up. Not because you wouldn’t do it if Wayne asked nicely, and not because you were going to let Eddie make you do so, but simply to further chastise the boy now running away from you. 

The first droplets of rain begin to fall before either of you make it out of the trailer front door. 

Eddie only loses due to him slipping while passing by the kitchen, socked feet gliding out from beneath him until he grabs onto the counter hastily to prevent any injury. You pass him with a wide smile, yanking the door open hard enough that if Wayne had been home, he probably would have had a few choice words to say to you. 

But Wayne isn’t home. It’s just you and Eddie, the boy who makes summertime an endless brew of storms in your chest and mind alike, and the rain. 

You fly down the rickety porch steps of the Munson’s trailer just as you’ve done a hundred times before, Eddie just behind you. Neither of you make a deciding comment on who won; you’d been outside first, but Eddie’s feet hit the dirt properly just as yours did when he decided to jump right over the steps you were trampling down. 

It’s all wild joy and childish wonder as the two of you begin to run about and spin around beneath the droplets that have picked up into a downpour. Eddie’s hands find your wrist, and he’s throwing you about with him, making you dizzy with absolute giddiness as gravity drags you in a wide circle. Your Melvard’s polo soaks through to the bone. Eddie’s curls begin to stick to his cheeks. 

Neither of you care. 

A childlike exuberance, and youthful oblivion, that you only ever feel with Eddie. You don’t think you would have let anyone else drag you out into the middle of a storm with such ease. But it’s hard to say no to him when there’s so much happiness fizzing beneath your skin, and you’re pretty sure all the thundering actually belongs to your chest as you feel his fingertips press deeper into your wrists. 

You’ve loved him for a while now. Always have, always will. 

It happens in slow motion. You swear somewhere between the crackling of the lightning and his crinkling eyes, you can see his lips forming the words, you’re pretty. 

You didn’t hear it, though. Couldn’t have over the water clogging your ears. 

“What?” you call out, leaning forward with all your giggles, trying to ignore the feeling of your bare feet sinking into the mud below. 

Eddie just pulls you forward, and over another gust of wind that makes you both shiver, says it once more with his whole chest, “I said you’re pretty!”

You’re not. You’re really, really not. You’re a mess. Wet hair and slick skin, bleary eyes and aching smiles. Probably closer resembling a drowning rat than anything poetic or worth yelling to the sky about. 

But not to Eddie, not as he looks to the sky, and all he can do is laugh at himself. 

“I’m not pretty-” you start to laugh back, shaking your head at his foolishness. 

“You are,” he interrupts quickly, his hand only leaving your skin long enough to brush back his damp bangs, exposing a forehead you’d certainly thought about kissing on more than one occasion. Running his fingers through curls you’ve tried to find every excuse in the books to play with. Scrunching up his nose that you’d pictured pressed into your neck in the dead of night numerous times as the two of you slept peacefully. “You really fucking are. It’s a damn crime, half the time, too. Always taking my breath away and shit.” 

You don’t know what spurred it all on. The petrichor that had lingered in the air, the feeling of the rain on his skin, the comfort of the storm and its promise of a night spent together. But his confessions are rolling out faster than the drips racing down the windows of his trailer, and he’s looking at you with big brown eyes, and all you really know is that it doesn’t matter what spurred it all on.

All that matters is he’s said it. 

“Do something about it, then,” you gasp out.

You’re almost worried the storm has carried the words away, that he hasn’t heard you, until he does something. 

He kisses you, and it tastes just like the rain. Your favorite part of summer.

[tojisbbg]

𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚

❝nothing in the world belongs to me, but my love, mine, all mine.❞  

♡ gojo satoru ♡

a/n: gojo nation, how we doing after chapter 236? 🤧

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

content: gojo satoru x fem!reader, chapter 236 SPOILERS!!, fluff, angst, hurt with comfort, not edited.

...

"ugh.." you groaned in pain, as you put your weight on your arms to help you lift yourself up. your vision was slightly blurry, your fuzzy brain trying to piece things together and figure out just where the hell you were at.

it looked like an abandoned building, the lights were dimmed and slightly flickering. jesus, it was like something straight out of a horror film. the smell of the air was dusty like piles of rubble along with a stomach churning putrid scent.

your legs were wobbly, holding onto the wall for support as you stood up. cautious eyes scanned the area for any signs of potential danger, your heart beating aggressively against your chest wall as fear washed over you.

what is this place?

why are you here?

you found signs and arrows which pointed to an exit. so, you decided to follow them and sweet relief hit you when you felt a gust of wind hit your skin, you were outside. suddenly, a loud roaring sound followed by the crashing sound of rubble nearly deafening you shook your heart. you paused your steps, trying to breathe from the shock.

what the fuck was that?

as you walked further forward, you noticed a group of people standing and sitting in a gathered area, observing something. were these people not scared or worried? is this place even... normal?

"um... excuse me?" you meekly called out, not drawing much attention as only the lady in the white coat turned her head towards you. she had a lit cigarette in between her lips, eye bags dark and heavy.

"huh? and who may you be?" the brunette asked you, eyes scanning you top to bottom, making you grow slightly nervous.

"i don't know how i ended up here, but, i think i might be lost." you truthfully admitted, watching her eyes narrow as she stared into your soul.

"you must be one of the civilians that got sucked into the culling game then. have a seat here, it'd be dangerous for you to wander by yourself." she sighed, pointing to the empty chair next to her. you hesitantly nodded your head, thanking her before sitting down.

"your name?" the lady asked, not bothering to look at you.

"y/n. and you?" you fiddled with your fingers, your nerves nearly setting you off the edge.

"shoko." she dryly responded, making you nod your head.

you were about to ask her something, only for your thoughts to be interrupted my more thunderously loud noises, crashing and crumbling, followed by bright lights of all colors like blue, red and purple.

"what the fuck is going on here?" you mumbled under your breath, palms getting sweaty.

"a match between the king of curses and the strongest sorcerer." shoko answered your mindless words, catching you off guard.

your eyes were focused on the cloud of dust, making out two figures. after a few seconds, the air cleared up. one of the figures was a man who had black hair spiked up, strange tattoos decorating his face and arms. your eyes widened when you saw the second person.

the familiar snowy locks of hair peaking through the brown dust, gorgeous cerulean eyes that glowed, and the towering height.

your heart sank into your stomach.

what was he doing here? why... why was your boyfriend here?

shoko observed you and your reactions, confusion bubbling inside her.

"do you know them?" she suddenly asked, making you look at her.

"uh, no. sorry, am i supposed to?" you lied, making her shake her head.

"didn't expect you to. the guy with the tattoos is the king of curses and the guy with the white hair is the strongest sorcerer in the world." shoko enlightened you with her words, making you nod.

"i see. what's the sorcerer's name?" you asked, praying to god that it wasn't the name of your boyfriend, that perhaps it was his doppelganger or something.

"that's gojo satoru." she replied, your breath hitching at the familiar name. oh, how sweetly it rolled off your tongue every single time that you called out to him.

satoru.

that's right, he was your gojo satoru.

you quietly watched from the sidelines as the match continued, occasionally hearing the low tone chatter and side comments from the people near you. both opponents were strong as hell, you watched gojo confidently smirk and throw in some witty insults towards the king of curses, sukuna.

it was almost as if this was a mere game for the two.

suddenly, you watched sukuna open his domain before launching a serious of violent attacks on gojo, slicing him with no mercy. you gasped, standing up from your seat as you tried to run into the ring like it was the first instinct that you knew of.

but, you felt a hand tightly grip your wrist. you looked back with furrowed eyebrows.

"he'll be okay." shoko assured, making you scoff.

"okay? are you blind, shoko? he's literally sliced up everywhere and bleeding. he'll die!" you yelled in her face, your voice trembling with fear; making the other's turn their heads to view the commotion.

"gojo can use something called rct to heal himself, so, he won't die. trust me, he's survived worse than this before." she explained, sensing your panic as she patted the back of your thigh before ushering you to sit back down.

you glanced back at the fighting scene, gojo on the ground bleeding nonstop. suddenly, he turned his head to face the crowd watching him, locking eyes with you. the sudden eye contact made your heart stop, watching his own ones widen.

did he recognize you?

is this also just as confusing to him as it is to you?

gojo sent a soft smile towards you, making your heart leap and you could swear that you would've run into his arms by now if shoko didn't have you on a leash.

it seemed like you were stuck in a place where time didn't exist. the match felt like never ending and you just wanted to swoop in and steal gojo from the scene, running away together to somewhere much safer.

a place where your boyfriend wasn't getting violently beaten and slashed.

"gojo-sensei has won! he won!" a boy with pink haired screamed excitedly, jumping up and down as he high-fived the surrounding people who showered your boyfriend with praises.

you clapped along with them, a huge smile tugging on your lips as you wondered how your approach with him would go. would he embrace you? let you kiss his scars?

your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden deafening silence, followed by worried gasps. you turned your attention to where they were so invested, to which you wish you didn't.

"no... no... NO!" you let out a bloodcurdling scream, the sight in front of you was enough to make you want to puke your organs out. without any hesitation, you pushed past the people who were blocking your way, hearing their cries of protest but you were too hurt to care about your safety anymore.

"satoru!" you cried out his name, your vision was blurry with your tears as you ran to him. the love of your life... the man who swore to love you until his last breath, the man who stayed up late at night watching you finish your work, the man who'd cook you meals to make sure you weren't skipping them, the man who'd spoil you rotten.... the man who looked at you like you hung the moon and stars for him was now on the ground; sliced in half.

you kneeled in front him, watching how blood poured out of his mouth as his tears streamed down his face. with a weak turn of his head, he looked at you while you stroke his cheek.

"y...ou..?" gojo breathed out, making you sob harder as you nodded your head.

"it's me, satoru. oh god, why did you do this, satoru? i-i don't know what to do. please.. don't leave me. please, baby, i love you so much." you cried helplessly, grabbing his hand before pressing kisses on his knuckles.

he watched you with that same lovesick expression before giving you a gentle smile.

"..y../n.." your eyes widened as his final words was your name, watching his eyes roll back before his breathing came to a stop.

"satoru? s-satoru?!" you desperately called out, even though you knew that it was no use. a menacingly deep laughter came from besides you, making you look up as you glared at the man who murdered your other half.

"i never knew that blue-eyed freak had a woman. how pitiful." the tattooed curse snickered. you got up to your feet, grabbing him by the collar.

"kill me. i don't want to stay here for a second longer and see your evil face. so, kill me!" you screamed, making him scoff before shoving you to the ground besides the lifeless gojo; a wince escaping your lips.

"foolish little girls like you are the reason why humanity will never progress further. what a shame." sukuna cackled, watching you with amused eyes.

"please... satoru. don't leave me!

"wake up! please, i love you, wake up! satoru!"

"satoru!"

...

"satoru!" you shot up from your bed, breathing heavy as bullets of cold sweat ran down your temple. your mouth was dry, trying to process what the fuck you just dreamed of. you quickly patted the side of the bed in search of the other body who's supposed to fill it, only to find a cold empty space in return.

you felt panic rise inside of you, scrambling to get out of your bed as your knees felt like jelly. you harshly opened your bedroom door, running down the hall as you screamed your boyfriend's name.

"satoru? satoru!" it sounded more like a series of desperate cries and you got nothing but silence in return. you collapsed on the carpeted floor in the middle of the living room, loudly sobbing into your palms.

maybe... maybe that dream was real and gojo was truly sucked into that alternate reality. god, why did you escape?

"baby?" you suddenly heard the soft familiar voice you were aching to hear call out for you, a gentle hand on your back. you look up from your wet palms, your fuzzy vision making out the figure of your boyfriend as his snowy peaks of hair and beautiful cerulean eyes shone through the darkness.

"satoru?" you breathed out, hiccuping in between your cries. without wasting another second, you launched yourself forward into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck; hugging him as tightly as you could.

"i'm right here, baby. i just went to the bathroom. it's okay, you're okay, sweet girl." gojo whispered in a comforting manner, rubbing your back as you cried into the crook of his neck.

"i-i... oh my g-god.. jesus, y-you—" you tried to formulate proper sentences to explain everything to him, but the words kept getting stuck in your throat.

"shh... it's okay, baby. just breathe in and breathe out... yeah just like that, good girl." he praised as you followed his words, kissing the side of your head as he helped you calm down.

the room was silent, your gentle cries were the only thing that could be heard followed by the sweet reassuring words of gojo. about ten minutes has passed, you were still clung onto gojo as if he would run away if you were to let go. so, gojo decided to take you to your shared bedroom since it was getting late.

with you still in his arms, he got up carefully and held on to you tight; so that you don't fall. gojo walked inside the dark bedroom, turning on the dimly lit lamp before sitting down, with you still straddling him.

you pulled away to look at him, seeing the worried expression lingering on his face as he examined your state. you looked utterly traumatized, eyes puffy from crying and face pale.

"talk to me, honey." gojo gently encouraged, holding your hand as he rubbed small circles on the back of your palms. you took in a moment to savor the sweet relief of your boyfriend in front of you, in one piece; safe and sound. no painful scars sliced onto his skin, his hair was neat and his eyes were full of life. you placed one of your hands on his chest, feeling the soft beat of his heart.

tears pricked the corner of your eyes, looking down as your tears fell onto his shirt. just by your reaction, gojo had an idea of what this might be.

"bad dream?" he guessed, and without a word, you nodded. a heavy sigh left his lips, before bringing a strong arm to your back as he pulled you towards him, so that you could lay down on his chest.

"my poor sweet girl. we're okay, baby, nothing's gonna hurt you or me. you know i hate to see you cry, y/n." gojo rubbed your back, pressing soft kisses on the top of your head.

"it was awful, i wouldn't even wish that kind of nightmare on my worst enemy. god, i hated every second of it to the point i wished death on myself." your body shook as you reminisced the event. gojo quickly wrapped his arms around you, intrigued to hear more about what you saw that shook you up like this.

"it was in this strange world where sorcery existed and curses. you were the world's strongest sorcerer who was fighting against the king of curses, sukuna. it was an intense match, you both were strong as hell. but, in the end..." you harshly swallowed, not finding it within you to say it.

"i died." gojo completed the sentence for you, confirming it from your silence. suddenly, you felt the heavy vibration of his chest as he chuckled. you lifted your head up, glaring at him through your glossy eyes.

"stop laughing, satoru! this isn't funny, you were literally sliced in half!" you scolded him, slapping his bicep, but your words and actions made him laugh even harder.

"sliced in two? what am i, a watermelon? oh my, what an impeccable way to go." he continued to joke around, making you scoff as you ripped yourself away from his hold.

"asshole." you grumbled, rolling away from him to your spot on the bed. gojo's lips curled into a smile, immediately following after you as he scooped your body to scoot you close to him.

"sorry, baby. i just wanted to lighten the atmosphere up a bit." gojo honestly admitted, kissing your shoulder. you sighed, turning your head towards him.

"i was so scared, satoru. i felt like i was gonna die, i swear. it felt so real, so fucking real. i could still smell it and feel your blood against my palms." you shook your head at the though of experiencing that ever again, breath hitching in fear.

"it was just a nightmare, baby. it's not real and it'll never become real either. i'm here right in front of you, breathing and alive, in one piece. we're safe, y/n, nothing's gonna happen, okay?" he stroked your cheeks, wiping your tears away before leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

you snuggled against his chest, breathing in his scent which smelled like home.

"i love you so much, satoru." your voice was muffled, but clear enough for him to hear.

"i love you more, my sweet girl." gojo replied, fingers raking through your hair while his other hand rubbed your back.

"i don't know what sin i committed to see something as horrific as that." you pulled away from his chest, shuddering.

"it's probably 'cause of all those sci-fi horror movies you watch." he giggled, making you hum in response.

"maybe." you shrugged with a sigh, tightening your arms around him tighter as you wanted your space, body and mind to be engulfed by gojo and only him.

"y/n?" gojo suddenly called out your name.

"hm?" you hummed in response, looking up at him with anticipating eyes.

"we'll find each other no matter what universe or lifetime we enter. that i can promise you, baby. so, listen carefully to me, okay? the universe could strip me of everything; my brain, my heart, my breath, my life... but there's one thing it could never take away from me." he spoke with tenderness, looking down at you with affectionate eyes that twinkled with nothing but love and adoration for you; the woman who made his heart feel alive with life.

"no one could ever take away the love i have for you. my love for you is only mine and it will always be all mine." gojo said, making your eyes soften as you looked up at him with a smile.

"i hope that in every universe and lifetime that i exist in, you're just a regular person. maybe a barista or bookstore keeper... just not someone who's strong and powerful." you commented, making him laugh.

"wouldn't you want a strong and powerful boyfriend to protect you?" he questioned, making you shake your head.

"not when he has the risk of being sliced in half, absolutely not!" you quickly disapproved, making him chuckle.

"whatever you'd like, baby." gojo smiled, leaning his head down to find your lips. his kisses were like oxygen, it felt like you could finally breathe again. the sweetness of his soft lips combined with the warmth of his body transferring to yours made your heart swell with love.

you cupped his face, kissing him with more need as his hand rubbed your back. gojo knew that you needed this and he could honestly do this all night. eventually, you both pulled away for air.

"i love you so much, satoru." you breathed out, placing a small kiss on his chin, a boyish grin etching on his lips.

"i love you more, my sweet girl." he began to pepper your face with kisses, making you giggle.

the sound of your laughter was like music to gojo's ears and your smile was like a piece of art that he'd see in those big fancy museums. god, you're so beautiful that it made his heart ache.

gojo stared into your eyes, finding nothing but warmth and love for him. a smile painted his lips, happy that he found you in this lifetime. you both were truly destined for each other and gojo satoru died as a happy man on that cursed day when he met your eyes, to which he was reborn to find you and hold you in his arms like this.

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You recently moved to a cabin in the woods for some peaceful time alone. But that is ruined when somehow a wide variety of different animals invade your space out of nowhere. Was this your Disney princess era or is there something more to it..

Also a crazy killer seems to be also on the loose as of now. And this guy who seems to be your new neighbour seems suspicious. Is there any connection?

(I kinda just had some scenarios made in my mind with the hazbin crew as animals so I decided to write them(◕ᴗ◕✿) )

Master list

CH-1: The fluffy and the winged friend

As you turned the key,the door opened with a click. A gust of dusty air left the cabin as you opened the door. Coughing a little you started to look for the light switch with your hand. Soon you found it and turned it on as light filled the room. It was the kitchen from the looks of it. There was an old stove on the left side of the room,followed by a sink and a countertop.

On the right side was a wooden sofa. It look to be in bad shape as some of its parts had been eaten by bugs.You took a mental note to fix that later. There was a small stool beside the sofa which looked pretty okay. There was also a window above the sink. You went there and opened it to let some fresh air in. There was two more room to explore. You went in the right one.

This time it was a bedroom. There was a queen sized bed on a corner. Alongside it was your wardrobe and on the other side of the room was a chair and a table, all of which you made sure to be moved here before you came. There was a door in there too which you guessed was the bathroom. You went to the window above the table and opened it to let the sunlight in.

The other room was a bit spacious with a small fireplace and some old books with shelves in a corner. There was a lounge there too. Everything looked pretty neat for now.After finishing your tour of the cabin you took a big breath.

You used almost all the money you saved up till now to buy this cabin around the woods. You really wanted to settle down in a quiet place close to nature from your childhood and it just seemed perfect.

"Welp,time to get some unpacking done"

You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and went to the balcony where all of your stuff were left in a pile of boxes. You crouched down and picked up a box labeled 'kitchen' and started to work.

You took a break at noon to whip something up quick for lunch and rest. The rest of the unpacking was almost done by afternoon,as you didn't have much anyway. You went to get one last box that was left on the balcony. It was a bit bigger then other ones. You went to open it up,but suddenly it started to violently shake.

"What the-"

You quickly took a couple steps back. You don't remember placing something moving or vibrating in that box. At least nothing that would start moving by itself like a blender. Gulping down you you slowly inched to the box again. As you were close to touching the lid, it opened by itself. Being startled,you quickly retrieved your hands as a pair of horns poked through the box.

"Huh?"

Suddenly that something with horns jumped in front of you from the box. It was a sheep, a small fluffy adorable sheep. Following its jump, an ashy moth also flew out from the box and sat on the sheep's horns.

You were confused as hell. How the heck did a whole ass sheep and a big moth get inside your box? It didn't seem like the boxes were open beforehand. But swatting away that confusion,you focused on what to do with the two little creatures in front of you right now.

Your cabin was surrounded by woods on one side and it was far from safe for a little sheep like it. Plus you really wanted to pet it for some reason. Deciding you'll keep it with you for however long You can. You slowly started to get close to it holding out your hand.

The sheep was looking at you curiously and started to walk over to your hand. While the moth seemed to be tensed by you almost.

Slowly the sheep was under your reach. You softly put your hand on it head and began to pet it. The sheep closed it eyes which you think meant it was enjoying it. The moth seemed to be comfortable too now. Looking closer, you noticed the moth was missing one of it's eye. There was a cross where it's left eye should be.

Normally you weren't a big fan of moths. But this one really looked pretty. You mentally cursed whichever thing that made such a cute creature look like this.

Now you slowly tried to pick up the sheep so you can carry it to your room. You had some vegetables left over that you could give to the sheep.

"Hey there darling,come with me. Let's get you some food alright..?"

You spoke in a soft voice attempting to reassure it. But then it hit you that they wouldn't understand your language. You mentally facepalmed yourself right then for your stupidity. But to your surprise,it came closer to you and let itself be picked up. Even looking a bit happy in the process if that was possible. You heart absolutely melted at the sight of it and the soft fur. The moth flew and sat on top of your head.

"Well then, let's get going,shall we?"

You said as you walked back into the cabin with the small sheep in hand and moth on your head. At least you wouldn't feel lonely in this cabin tonight.

(A/n: just trying to get the environment figured out in this chapter and I'm not really good with it:') )

(Also this is already published in both ao3 and wattpad under the same name. But I wanted to publish it here too and see how it goes. The artwork isn't mine!!)

[lost-in-fandoms]

a few of those prompts that called to me:

creaky wooden gate, a pink-tiled shower, a dusty wine cellar

may or may not have squeezed all three in the same thing.

Max closes the gate behind him, making a mental note to oil it before winter hits, or they'll be stuck climbing over it once again because the hinges get stuck with the cold.

He brushes his hand along the leaves of all the plants he passes by, a silent greeting that gets reciprocated in gentle swaying, a particularly eager yellow flower bending forward to touch his cheek.

"Daniel?" he calls once he's inside the door, shrugging his coat off and abandoning it on the back of a chair.

The kitchen looks exactly as he left it, unwashed dishes in the sink, something bubbling on the stove, plants, books, scrolls and random ingredients piled on every available surface. He was not expecting Daniel to tidy any of it while he was at the market, they both had pretty much abandoned the idea of ever using their table to eat ever again, but that potion did need to be taken off the heat five minutes ago at least.

He sighs, clicking his tongue at the spoon tapping against a plate in the sink.

"Stop that," he scolds, "we're gonna get to you when we will."

At least the potion is still decent, just a little bit on the side of too purple. They'll still be able to use it, but they'll have to be careful about who they'll sell it to. No blondes.

"Daniel!" he calls again after covering the pot and moving it on the windowsill to cool, picking his bag back up and heading towards the stairs.

There's some rustling from upstairs, but no answer.

Max sighs again, knowing he'll need to put away the new ingredients before he can go check whatever Daniel is up to, avoiding the affectionate attack of the fiddle leaf fig plant trying to smack him in the face to open the door to the cellar.

Rows of glittering jars twinkle in the low light, and he sneezes as he sets his bag down on the table, starting to take down his purchases and sorting them in the different spaces, groaning every time he finds something out of place. He doesn't know why he bothers labeling everything when Daniel just puts stuff away wherever he wants to.

Wine included.

"The wine goes on the left," he grumbles aloud even if nobody is listening, unless those dead scorpions have gained back a second life.

His eyes feel irritated and his nose is runny by the time he's done and he can escape the cellar, adding a new note on his mental list to call George for that handy cleaning spell that neither him or Daniel ever successfully mastered.

"Daniel!"

Still no answer.

He washes his hands in the kitchen sink, still ignoring the annoyed dirty spoon, and then threads his way through the clutter on the stairs to reach the second floor.

It's much cleaner here, most of their work stuff relegated downstairs or in the garden, but the geraniums on the widow still wave at him cheerfully, pointing towards the slight ajar bathroom door.

Gossips, all of them.

"Daniel?"

He doesn't know what he's expecting. It could be anything, from Daniel experimenting with water lilies again, to a fully exploded bathtub, but when he pushes the door open all he sees is. Steam.

Daniel is standing under the water in their pink-tiled shower, eyes closed, hands suspended in midair.

Worry and fondness mix into Max's chest, more suffocating than the humid air, as he takes off his clothes and steps into the shower too.

Daniel doesn't move, doesn't give any indication he even noticed Max at all. Doesn't even flinch when Max reaches over to turn off the water, a cold gust of hair wafting in through the still open door.

"Daniel, hey," he murmurs, putting both hands on Daniel's damp cheeks, "come back."

Daniel's chest stutters on a breath, heartbeat rabbiting for a second, two, three, five, then his eyes snap open and he stumbles, knees suddenly weak, not sliding to the floor only thanks to Max's arms winding around his waist.

"You're back," he gasps, still blinking rapidly, wet eyelashes clumping together.

"It's been an hour," Max tells him, gently wiping his sopping hair back so it's not dripping into his eyes anymore.

Daniel frowns, looking down at his hands as if they would hold the answers his brain is currently denying him.

"I told you not to scry without me," Max says, helping him into a towel. "And you almost let the house burn down."

Daniel stills from where he had started to dry himself off, looking up at Max with a guilty expression.

"Shit, is it ruined?"

Max shakes his head, then grabs another towel for himself, shifting the conversation towards what he'd bought and seen at the market.

It's only later, when they're both in bed, the house creaking around them, that Max brings it up again.

"You were too far gone earlier. You shouldn't scry without an anchor."

He feels Daniel's sigh on his skin from where he's buried against his chest.

"I know," he says, nervous fingers drawing runes on Max's arm. "I didn't mean to, it just happened."

Max purses his lips, frowning, but decides to keep his worries for himself. He knows Daniel is aware of how dangerous it can be, to accidentally lose himself outside his body like that, and it's not worth it to talk about it right now, not when the night is deep and the moon is thin.

"It's almost time to redo the protective spells," it's what he says instead, reminded by the runes Daniel is still tracing on his skin. He will worry less if he knows that Daniel's soul is as safe as possible, even if they will still have to figure out why this accidental scrying has been happening.

"Add it to your list," Daniel tells him around a yawn.

Max adds it to his list.

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 24: To Know the Winter Darkness

Summary: Arthur's irritation with the gang's situation begins to take its toll on your relationship.

*A/N: Some of this dialogue is not mine, but pulled from the game.

*This fantastic image comes from @arthurs-btch

*Special thank you to @appalachiancowboy99 for being my sounding board.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter, but there are a handful of future chapters that were posted ahead of time

The cold air on your face stirs you from your restless slumber. A heavy silence lingers in the air, smothering you like a wet blanket as you lie sequestered away in the bunkhouse here in Colter. The only sound you can hear is the wind as it whistles through the gaps in the grimy, weather-beaten windows. The sides of the humble structure even shake a bit when a few particularly angry gusts of wind whip against the sides of the cabin. 

A groggy moan hisses out of your mouth as your eyes reluctantly crack open, immediately searching for the comfort of the fire in the corner. To your surprise, you are greeted by the beautiful sight of red and orange flames dancing vigorously along freshly replenished logs. Arthur must have gotten up and added more wood at some point. Your eyes slowly blink their way awake as a sleepy smile blossoms across your face, the first to do so in a long time. You roll over in search of him, but you are disappointed to find an empty half of the bed. Last night, Arthur had ridden out with Dutch in search of supplies or something, anything that may help the dire situation (that, or Dutch wanted to avoid the questioning looks of his people) and you were hoping to see him before you fell asleep. But no such luck.

While Arthur and Dutch were out looking for necessities, the rest of the gang made quick work to create a new camp here in the Grizzly Mountains. You had all worked well into the night setting up bedding, arranging supplies and sorting food, and still Arthur had not returned by the time you had drug yourself to your shared space to collapse upon your makeshift bed. Being a partner to a senior member of the gang comes with its privileges and having a room to yourself is one of them. Ms. Grimshaw put Arthur and you, Dutch and Molly, and Hosea together in one building and paired up the others accordingly. 

As the morning sun stretches its lazy fingers of light across the dusty floorboards, you bask in the peace and quiet of your and Arthur’s room. Casting your eyes about the space, it is simple and nothing luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s private. And you keep these stolen moments to yourself where you can to try to wrap your nerve-wracked brain around what’s happened since the catastrophic Blackwater job. You are still at a loss on how you all came to be here, how things could go so wrong, so fast. But what is most unsettling to you is that even those who are used to such turmoil are also distraught by it. 

But no time for such deep thoughts at the moment. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is Arthur. You want nothing more than to see him, to hear his raspy southern drawl and to put your arms around him and feel his embrace in return. It is like an addiction; you are restless and will not be able to calm yourself until you have what you need. And it is this desire that motivates you out from under the warm cocoon of blankets to get yourself dressed and groomed for the day.

It takes you about an hour to get yourself together before you open the door of the cabin, grimacing as you stumble outside, the biting cold smacking you in the face and the sun blinding you as it reflects off of the snow. Last night’s storm had settled by the early morning hours and draped everything in a thick blanket of white. Bracing yourself against the harsh wind, you rush over to the main building where the smoke plume of an internal fire floats into the brisk winter air. Your eyes dazedly watch it like a beacon as the white vapor dances and sways in a hypnotic motion, offering a sign of life in an otherwise desolate landscape. 

You push through the heavy door of the main cabin to find most of the gang already assembled, muttering and conversing in their own little social rings. Scanning over the faces, your eyes immediately seek out Arthur who is speaking with Dutch in the far corner. Relief washes over you like the floodwaters of a swollen river after a thunderstorm when you see that he is safe and sound. Just the sight of his handsome face sets you at ease as you head straight for him before you lose track of him once more.

Arthur notices you out of the corner of his eye, and when his gaze finds yours, a fragile smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. Noticing Arthur’s attention is now elsewhere, Dutch looks over his shoulder to see you heading their way. Thankfully, the man gives you a nod and a quick “G’Morning, Miss Y/L/N” before he excuses himself to leave you and Arthur to yourselves. 

Arthur takes in the heavenly sight of you as you glide over to him, leaning yourself into his body as your hands find a place along his ribs. The loving smile you offer him lets Arthur forget the problems facing the group even if just for a brief moment. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes into your adoring face. He looks beyond your ruby cheeks and worried eyes to see the love and devotion that is nestled there just for him. Arthur will often simply stare at you and smile to himself, appreciating everything about you and thanking God above for letting you into his life. For just this one fleeting, fragile moment, Arthur lets himself forget the trouble the gang is in, for you offer him that refuge, that safe haven. 

“Did you even come to bed last night?” Your voice floats to his ears with a playful chiding tone. 

“Sure did. But you were too busy snorin’ away,” he chuckles tapping your nose playfully. “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“I wish you would’ve,” you pout. “I missed you.”

A sympathetic grin forms on his lips, those cobalt eyes sparking just right. “Thought I’d give you a moment’s peace while you can get it.”

But that thought is ironically short-lived.

“Miss Y/L/N, nice of you to join us.” Ms. Grimshaw’s harpy voice cuts into your brain from across the room. Your heart drops as you watch that spark of happiness on Arthur’s face transform into disappointment and annoyance. All he wanted was one goddamn moment with you. With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your gaze from Arthur to see the matron walking over to you. 

“Good morning, Ms. Grimshaw,” you sigh.

“While you were getting your beauty rest, I’ve been tending to things here.” Her arm waves behind her at the shivering group of sad souls. “We have a new arrival that you should probably look after.” She nods her head towards the corner and you follow her sight line to see the woman Arthur and Dutch had brought back last night. 

Your eyes settle on the fragile looking figure sitting wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire, staring blankly into the flames. 

“Oh my god”, you whisper under your breath as you quickly break away from Arthur’s presence to make your way over to her. 

Arthur sighs as he gives up your attention for another once more. But he marvels at how you float across the creaking wooden floorboards, hesitating before you slowly kneel down in front of the broken woman. His heart flutters a bit as he watches you introduce yourself to Mrs. Adler, placing your hand over hers in solidarity, a kind smile sitting upon your face to try to put her at ease. Arthur can’t make out what you are saying to her, but he gives silent thanks when her shoulders relax a bit and Mrs. Adler nods in acceptance of your help as the two of you disappear into another room, presumably for you to examine her for injuries. Your arm wraps around her, cradling her into your side as you walk. Pride swells in Arthur’s chest, knowing Mrs. Adler is in your good hands. 

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, someone comes into your life that changes everything. They raise the standards of living, make you laugh, make you see the world in a whole new light, helping you to notice things that you never did before. They make you feel like you again, that person who sometimes seems to get lost in the turmoil of life. From the moment he met you, the only thing Arthur has ever wanted in the universe is to be part of your world.

When Arthur fell in love with you, you became his weakness in a mind of unyielding hardness. When you fell in love with him, he became your strength at a time of unparalleled fragility. It is a powershift that Arthur still struggles with, trying to find his footing to understand it. You provide his foundation, his support, yet somehow leave him weightless and exposed at the same time. It was like magic the way you burst into his life, turning everything that he knew to be real upside down, making everything in life explode in beautiful, vivid color. 

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

*This image comes from @rosesrdr2photos

By late afternoon, Abigail has become nervous, pacing frantically within the cabin and wringing her hands. John has yet to return to camp since before the snowstorm settled in and no one has seen him. 

Arthur lumbers into the cabin from outside, blowing his hot breath over the stiff joints in his hands, and heads over to the fire to get warm as he overhears the group talking about John. He keeps his head down and eyes diverted, though, wanting no part of whatever is brewing. 

“He’s strong and he’s smart,” encourages Tilly, trying to calm Abigail's frayed nerves. 

“Well, strong at least,” grumbles Abigail. But her head perks up when she notices Arthur has come in.

Arthur catches her out of the corner of his eye as she quickly approaches him where he stands at the fire, knowing full well what she’s about to ask. 

“Hello, Arthur. How are you?” she asks tentatively, looking at him with anxious eyes. 

He cocks an eyebrow at her, bracing himself for her yet unspoken question. “I’m fine, Abigail,” he says warily. “And you?”

“I…I need you to-”

Arthur rolls his eyes with an irritable sigh, his weight shifting uncomfortably from one hip to the other under her intense stare.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she rambles quickly, her hands still fidgeting. “I hate to ask, but…”

“It’s little John, gone and got himself into a scrape again.” The distemper is evident when the familiar scowl returns to Arthur’s face, his hands slowly clenching open and closed into fists, causing Abigail to recoil slightly, hesitant to plead her case. 

“He ain’t been seen in two days!” she cries, her tear-rimmed eyes looking imploringly up at Arthur.

“Your John will be fine. I mean, he may be dumb as rocks and dull as rusted iron, but that ain’t changing because he got caught in some snowstorm.”

“Arthur!” You shoot him a scolding look when you see how Abigail’s face wrinkles painfully at his answer. 

“At least go take a look,” pushes Hosea as he, too, joins the conversation. Always the level-headed one, he steps up to Abigail, quick to her defense. “Javier?”

The man looks to Hosea at the sound of his name being called, awaiting instructions. “Yes?”

“Will you ride out with Arthur and take a look for John? You’re the two best fit men we got. We’re all pretty worried.”

Javier nods and is quick to stand. He adjusts his coat, pulling his collar up to his cheeks. “I know if the situation were reversed, he’d look for me.” Resolution set upon his dark features, Javier grabs his gun and heads to the door, shooting Arthur a guilting look on his way out. 

With a lofty eye roll, an exasperated sigh puffs out of Arthur’s nose, his mouth set in a hard, angry line. And he slams out the door behind Javier before you can even say good luck. While you can understand his frustration, you know that Arthur is John’s best chance of survival if he is in any sort of trouble. And as time continues to crawl forward in this frigid wasteland, it is becoming more and more apparent that the situation is not looking good.

You quietly cross the room to Abigail, who hangs her head with worry. “Try not to fret about John, Abigail,” you say softly. “Arthur and Javier will find him. If anyone can, it’s them. You’ll see.” You rub your hand along her arm in comfort. But she can only offer you a weak smile in return. 

Outside, Javier and Arthur head out into the frigid, unforgiving white once again, this time in search of one of their own. As the winds kick up, they head further up the mountain, up where the air gets thinner and the snow deeper. 

As they trot along, Arthur takes this opportunity to privately ask Javier about Blackwater. He has to be careful not to sound like he’s questioning Dutch, but something just doesn’t sit right with Arthur, and the people who were there are acting cagey about it. But if Arthur is to intercept any problems heading their way, he needs to know what he’s up against. Like you had told him before, people in this gang tend to not worry too much about the swirling chaos they get themselves caught-up in as long as he’s the one taking the brunt of things. 

“So…you were there, Javier. What really happened on that boat?”

Javier shakes his head in disbelief. “We had the money and it seemed fine. And then suddenly, they were everywhere.”

“Bounty hunters?”

“No, Pinkertons. It was crazy. Raining bullets.” As the snow blows around them, Javier tells Arthur about how their group was swarmed, members were shot or lost, and that Dutch even killed a girl, an innocent bystander in the mayhem. 

“That ain’t like him, though,” murmurs Arthur as his eyes dart back and forth in shock. 

“I’m surprised we escaped at all. By the time you boys showed up on the other side of town, we were all just barely hanging on.”

Arthur digests all of this information, rolling it around in his mind. “Bad business alright.”

After an hour of trudging through the cold with no sign, they catch sight of tracks in the snow running along a deep crevice in the mountain. Encouraged by the first indication of activity, they follow along for several yards, but the two men eventually stumble upon a grizzly sight. They discover John’s horse lying on the frozen ground, its belly ripped apart. Upon closer inspection, they see tracks scattered all around in the bloody snow. 

Wolves. And quite a few of them, judging by the number of prints. It is a grim sight and Javier and Arthur share an uneasy glimpse between each other. 

Looking around, there is no sign of John. Everything around them is silent and ominous, with no indications of life. He could be anywhere. He could still be alive, but he could also be dead at this point. Arthur grabs his revolver from his side, aiming it straight up into the air and fires a single shot. He anxiously waits to see if John hears the discharge as it ricochets off of the rocky terrain, alerting him to their presence. Moments pass tensely and agonizingly slow, waiting for any response. 

And suddenly, they can hear hollering off in the distance. It’s John's voice. It’s faint, but he’s alive. Relief washes over both Javier and Arthur, as they try to figure out where he’s at. Sound bounces in every direction here and everything is coated in white, hiding any discernible landmarks. They have to be careful not to get lost, themselves. 

The men exchange calls, trying to follow John’s desperate, raspy voice, and walk down along the ridgeline until they get to a point that is too narrow and precarious for the horses. They dismount, leaving the animals behind, and proceed on foot in search of their brother. And thankfully, they spot him. 

John has himself sequestered onto a ledge, out of reach of the wolves that attacked and maimed him. He’s bloodied and shivering violently, barely conscious. Arthur and Javier make their way to the edge, careful not to slip and fall over the side. 

“Quite the scratch you got there,” Arthur teases as he looks down over John.

John gingerly tilts his head up, giving the men a good view of the deep and savage gashes across his face, cutting brutally into his eye. “Never thought I’d say this, but it’s good to see you, Arthur Morgan.” 

Arthur hops down to the ledge, crouching to eye level to take a moment to get a good look at John. “You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel so good, neither,” he replies dejectedly. 

A humorless chuckle huffs out of Arthur as he takes ahold of John’s arm, helping him to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s get you outta here.”

Javier reaches down, wrapping his cold yet nimble fingers under John’s arms to help pull him off the precarious ledge. It is quickly apparent that John is in no shape to walk, let alone climb down the mountain. Without a word, Arthur slings his brother across his strong shoulder and they begin to head back to the horses. They need to get John back to camp and straight to you as soon as possible for medical attention. He’s been out here in the elements for far too long and his injuries are profound. 

“I told Dutch you weren’t the right man for this job.” Arthur mocks as he adjusts John across his shoulder as if he’s hauling a deer carcass.

An exasperated sigh manages to escape John’s cut and bleeding lips. “I’m sure you did.”

The three men don’t make it very far before they spot a cluster of black and gray standing stark against the pristine white snow off in the distance.  Drawn by the noise and the scent of John’s blood on the wind, the wolves have returned to finish what they started. They sit perfectly still, silently eyeing up the men, ready to pounce at any moment. 

John lifts his head to look past Arthur at the impending threat before hanging back down despondently. They still have a bit of a walk to get back to the horses at this point and outrunning the pack is not an option. “Shit”, he mumbles and his whole body goes limp against Arthur’s broad back. John doesn’t have much fight left in him and what he does have, he needs to stay alive. 

Arthur slowly sets John down to his shaky feet, eyes never leaving the fierce pack of predators looming in the distance. “You head for the horses,” he tells Javier as he pulls his gun. “I’ll keep John’s friends off ya til you’re clear.”

Javier gives a sharp nod of understanding to Arthur as he slings John’s arm around his own shoulders and they begin to shuffle away towards their waiting mounts.

The moment Javier and John break off, the wolves lunge. The explosion of motion causes Arthur to immediately fire into the pack, taking down two of the large animals that head straight for Javier and John. Two more wolves go down in rapid fire shortly after that with painful howls echoing into the air, but it’s the last one that gets a little too close for comfort. The remaining animal comes barrelling towards Arthur, galloping at full speed, fangs bared and saliva oozing from its jowls. Arthur’s heartbeat thunders painfully in his ears as he takes aim once more, ignoring the slight tremble in his arms. The solitary wolf hurls itself at Arthur with a terrifying snarl, knocking him backwards into the snow. With a fierce yell of his own, Arthur’s gun rings true into the beast’s chest, dropping it dead atop his legs. 

As fast as a lightning strike, the vicious threat is over with, barely giving the three men time to comprehend whether or not they will all survive to make it back to camp.

Lying motionless and staring up into the icy blue sky with his eyes wide with adrenaline, Arthur tries to catch his breath as he lays in the snow, afraid to move lest the wolf still be alive. When the world stops spinning and settles back into reality, he draws the frigid air deep into his lungs, exhaling slowly out of his wind-chapped lips to steady his nerves before cautiously looking down, nudging the heap of fur with the tip of his gun. 

Arthur’s gaze drops to the sudden stinging sensation on his arm. A deep gash sits there from the wolf’s claws but it’s nothing that you can’t take care of. If he can just get his ass back to you in one piece, that is. If this is the extent of his injuries from this ordeal, he’ll make out pretty well. 

Shoving the carcass off himself with a pained grunt, Arthur rolls himself up and catches up to his companions just in time to help Javier get John situated on his horse behind him and the three of them head back down the mountain side. John slumps against his friend, silently thankful for the man’s body heat.

“Come on, John, you’ll be okay,” asserts Javier. “It’s just like a dog bite.”

“I knew a guy got bit by a dog...died an hour later,” mumbles John as he rests his forehead in between Javier’s shoulder blades.

“You ain’t gonna die,” huffs Arthur. “Not yet.” 

The horses begin to lumber their way back through the deep snow. Arthur and Javier push through the cold, trying to get back to Colter in one piece and not get lost in the tundra of the mountains. Javier is desperate to return John to Abigail and Arthur just wants to return back to you. And although they encounter more wolves along the way, fortunately this time it is not a full-on attack as before. Arthur makes quick work of the remaining pack, ensuring their safety for the remainder of the journey back to camp. 

Throughout the ride back, Javier is sure to keep talking to John, nervous as he feels his friend growing weaker by the minute, his body resting limply against him in the saddle. “You’re going to be okay, John,” Javier repeats again. “We have some shelter now.”

Despite his exhaustion, John’s mangled lips flash a grin. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“Sure. First the bullet in Blackwater, now this. You’ve had a hell of a time.” Javier nods in empathy for his good friend, thankful he’s found him alive as he’s lost enough companions in this baptism of fire. But from where he sits in his saddle behind them, Arthur carries an air of annoyance as he rides along in brooding silence on his horse. When will he be able to stop looking after ‘Little Johnny’?

“Arthur always says I’m lucky,” John manages a deflated chuckle out of his torn face as he looks behind him to catch Arthur’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Well, none of us are lucky right now,” Arthur retorts coldly. He shrugs his shoulders up around his chin when a particularly blustery gust of wind swirls through the air. “We’re going to need to come up with a better story for that scar.” 

If John weren’t half-dead, he’d spin on his brother in a heartbeat with fists raised. His teeth grit together despite the pain in his jaw. “So, freezing, bleeding, starving, damn near getting eaten to death ain’t good enough for you?!” John hurls what little energy he has left coursing through his fragile body in anger towards Arthur, his body shivering and trembling behind Javier. Why the hell does Arthur have to be on John’s ass all the time? 

“Come on, let's just keep pushing ahead”, complains Javier, becoming increasingly annoyed at the brothers’ bickering. Jesus, Arthur can be unrelenting sometimes. It’s too damn cold and miserable out, there’s no need to make it even more uncomfortable.

“See those buildings, John? That’s where we’re camped,” offers Javier in an attempt to lighten John’s spirits and distract him from Arthur’s ire. 

Thankfully, they ride the remainder of the way to camp in silence.

The three men ride into the middle of the dilapidated structures of the mining town, heading straight for the largest where the smoke floats out of the chimney. 

“Can we get some help here?” Arthur’s voice carries out over the snow as they pull the horses to a halt outside the building.

The rickety door is thrown open and Abigail comes running out with you close on her heels. A few others come assembling out as well.

“You’re alive!” The relief is apparent in her face as Abigail reaches up to lay her hands on John, confirming he has indeed come back to her. “Come on, let's get you warm.”

“Careful of his leg,” Arthur warns as John slides off the back of Javier’s horse and into Rev. Swanson’s supportive arms. As you get closer to him, your eyes quickly assess the man’s wounds, your skilled hands flitting about over his body. He’s an absolute mess. You’ll have your work cut out for you once again. But John is, in fact, alive and that is more than enough for you right now. 

You and Arthur catch each other’s gaze for a brief moment, a silent thankfulness that your beloved has returned to you as well, before you lead John inside for care. 

“Thank you, both,” Abigail says emphatically to Arthur and Javier, but her attention quickly turns to Jonn, angry for the days of worry she’s suffered. Like their whole relationship, the gamut of Abigail’s emotions runs from one pole to the other. “This is a new low, even for your standards,” she hisses into John’s ear. 

Hosea walks up next to Arthur as they watch John being half-carried inside. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” hums Hosea, knowing full well how irritable his eldest son is right now. Arthur has been moving non stop since the gang left the valley after Blackwater. He’s cold, tired, hungry and just disillusioned altogether. 

“You got any other lost maidens need saving?” Arthur retorts, his face devoid of any amusement.

“Not today,” Hosea chuckles, pulling a cigarette from his breast pocket.

Arthur lifts his head to look back at you, longing for your attentiveness, willing you to turn around once more to give him that smile of yours. But you’re already off with John. He watches as you help get John inside and the door shuts again, closing your image off from him. Like the sun setting behind the horizon, your warmth, your glow is eclipsed from his view.

With a slow exhale pushed through his nose, Arthur turns his attention back to Hosea.

 “You been talkin’ to Dutch about how we’re gonna get outta here?” 

“I was just discussing with Herr Strauss,” confirms Hosea, lighting his cigarette and drawing the smoke through his weathered lips. “When weather breaks, we’ll head east.”

Arthur’s face immediately scrunches in disgust. “East? Into all that civilization?”

“The west is where our problems are worse,” Hosea says pointedly. 

This is disappointing news. Arthur turns his angry eyes back towards the house where you just took John to get cleaned up. God, how he wants to march in there right now, grab you and head back to your room and forget about all this ugliness for just a bit. He just needs one goddamn moment alone with you to set his mind right again. But now you’re tied up with caring for that idiot. 

Deciding he’s had enough for one afternoon, Arthur trudges over to his bunkhouse, hoping that if he’s hidden out of sight, no one will ask any more favors. He sits inside the dreary, depressing cabin, stewing in frustration, his festering anger edging dangerously close to where his precious affections and love reside. He fears that he is beginning to lose that contentment in his heart that he has been working so hard to rebuild over these last few months. 

“We’ll be here freezing for weeks, waiting for the thaw to come,” he gripes as he pulls out his journal, flipping it open. “What a goddamn mess of things.”

*This images comes from @rosesrdr2photos

————————————

Over the next two days, Arthur becomes more irritable and distant, not just from the gang, but from you as well. The strain of losing Jenny and Davey and worrying over still-missing Sean and Mac weighs heavily upon his nerves. That, coupled with the constant need for warmth in the freezing cold and fending off the possibility of starvation is leaving you both frazzled. 

Dutch is leaning heavily on Arthur, even more so than before, if that is even possible. Sure, you and Arthur have had your arguments, but this is the first time he has been ugly to you. His aggravation is paramount yet he needs your presence to calm the hurricane of thoughts in his mind. 

But like Arthur, you are also being pulled in a multitude of directions. John’s injuries are severe and occupy much of your time, and there are plenty of other things to do to keep this gang going amongst the turmoil. Where Arthur is used to having your attention to himself, he now has to share you with the rest. And it is a feeling that does not sit well with him at all. 

The tension between the two of you pulls heavy on your heart. You’ve heard the gang speak of how much of an ass Arthur can be. Before you met, Arthur was known to be harsh and often difficult. Whether it was the nature of the jobs he was on or the nightmares of his past, or even his drinking, Arthur could be a son of a bitch to be around. And although you’ve seen him more than angry before, that aggression and ugliness has never been turned on you. Until now, as he is angry about everything. 

You try your best to be understanding and patient, but your own nerves are pushed to the limits, as well as his. You’ve never been in a situation such as this before and you so desperately want to turn into Arthur’s arms for him to shield you from it. But Arthur has the weight of the entire gang on his shoulders, leaving little time for comforting just you. 

You try to talk to him about it, but being faced with one more issue that he has to deal with, one more person asking something of him, ignites his fury. You’ve gotten yourselves caught up in yet another argument when his negativity rears its ugly head, testing the limits of your patience. He is being overextended by the gang’s needs and neglecting his own, as the gang must always come first. But it is leaving Arthur to be triggered by even the most minor annoyances, leaving him unbalanced and agitated. He has become focused on the continuing obstacles instead of the intended goal. 

What started as a simple statement about how your jaw aches from chattering teeth due to the cold sends Arthur into a storm of annoyance. 

“I’m sorry things can’t be all butterflies and flowers for you,” he bites back at you with a dismissive wave of his hand as you have elected to take your fight outside and away from prying eyes. 

“I never said it had to be,” you snap, trying not to raise your voice and provoke him even more as you can already see the tension in his shoulders, his face set hard as stone. “Things are hard enough right now, Arthur. You don’t need to be adding to it with your constant grumbling and complaining.”

Wrong response. 

“Come again?” His eyes shoot open, burning with anger.  “You best remember who you’re talkin’ to, woman.” Arthur’s voice settles into a low umber, making your chest tight and your heart race. 

Heat spreads through your belly as your spine straightens like an arrow and pulls your proud shoulders back to square up to his. You cross your arms over your chest, slowly inching closer to him. “Or else what?” 

Arthur would never hurt you. Ever. But he is still a man who believes in tradition. He loves your spirit, your fire. But you need to know your place. And he doesn’t appreciate your attitude in the slightest. But you won’t back down, either. 

Arthur’s jaw clenches tightly at your challenge, desperately trying to keep himself together. He’s used to getting his way when he’s angry, as that’s the very nature of his livelihood. And even though you have worked to tear down those walls that he’s barricaded himself within to see the loving and kind heart hidden there, he still has a bad temper and a mean streak that runs for miles. Arthur doesn’t need this fight right now. His hands slowly lift to settle onto his hips as he looms over you, but instead of being intimidated, you suddenly become distracted when you notice a flash of red. Your face immediately turns from sour to one of outright concern. 

“Arthur, are you alright? Your hand is bleeding.” It’s the wound from the wolf from when he brought John back. 

Arthur blinks at you, his face twisted up at the sudden turn in the conversation. “It’s fine, leave it.”

With an exasperated sigh, you try to grab his hand to look at it. “But if it isn't cleaned it could get infec-“

“I said leave it!” He barks at you, yanking his hand out of your grasp. 

The look of hurt and shock on your face instantly washes him in a wave of shame. Jesus, he can be a right ugly bastard sometimes. Afraid of saying anything else that will make this worse, Arthur abruptly turns, leaving you speechless in the snow as you watch him stalk away from you.

Several yards away, Dutch stands under the awning of the lean-to barn and observes the altercation between you and Arthur play out with a slightly amused grin on his face. When your conversation comes to an abrupt end, he slowly saunters over to you, following your gaze as you watch Arthur slam into your cabin. 

“Arthur has obligations, Miss Y/L/N. Responsibilities.” His expression carries a smugness that just rubs you the wrong way as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “He doesn’t have time for romantic nonsense.”

It takes you a second to process what it is that Dutch has just said and you turn a disbelieving expression towards the man, stepping out from under his falsely comforting arm. “I’m not trying to be romantic, Dutch. I’m worried for him.” 

“He’s fine,” Dutch says dismissively. 

“Is he?”

Your question causes a dark eyebrow raised in your direction, his intense eyes piercing into you like a dagger. Dutch’s dark-haired crown tilts just so before he speaks, the suffocating pause most unsettling.

“You may whisper sweet words in his ear, lay next to him at night battin’ those eyes at him,” he sneers as his lips curl into a falsely sweet smile. “But you don’t know him the way I do, Y/N.”

Time stands still as the argument hangs in the air, right there on the tip of your tongue. And oh, how you’d like to give the man a piece of your mind right now. So many things race through your rattled mind as you stand there pinned under Dutch’s burning scrutiny. 

But you need to choose your battles carefully, and now is not the time. 

“You are right about that, Dutch.” You lift your chin in slight defiance. “I don’t know him the same way you do.”

You hold Dutch’s gaze for a moment, an unspoken challenge between you. You would never dream of coming between Arthur and his family. But if it means his safety, his well-being, you will sure as hell step-up to take his back. 

But the tension is promptly snapped when Mary-Beth’s voice calls to you from across the yard. “Y/N! I think it’s time to change John’s bandages.” She even waves her hand to get your attention, trying to break the spell that Dutch has you under. 

The sound of your friend’s voice breaks the precarious trance, causing you to blink and inhale sharply to collect yourself and settle the frustration bubbling deep within your stomach. Your feet remain cemented to the ground as you desperately try to resist the urge to shake the tingling out of your fingertips. 

“If you will excuse me, Mr Van der Linde, I need to tend to your other son.” 

———————

The hours of the day after your fight with Arthur tick by slowly as the night eventually drapes everything in its path in darkness. Exhausted, you exit the ramshackle building where you’ve spent a good part of the day looking after John. You’ve been painstakingly cleaning his wounds and sitting with him as he rests, keeping vigil over him and only leaving his side now that Ms. Grimshaw relieves you when she comes to sit with him overnight. His vital signs are fair, but it wouldn’t take much for him to take a turn for the worse. A bad fever could easily do him in. And after losing Jenny and Davey, you just don’t want to take any chances leaving John alone for any extended period of time. 

The evenings here in the Grizzly Mountains descend into a quiet like none other. No birds, no wildlife, no commotion of people. Tonight, even the howling winds have ceased. Were it not for the freezing cold temperature, it would be beautiful. 

Cold air gets drawn into your lungs with a bone-weary sigh, your breath a dancing wisp in front of you. Tucking your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm, you roll your eyes upward and the stars above catch your attention. It seems that there’s almost as many stars as there are snowflakes. The inky black vastness of the heavens that cradle the cosmic diamonds is a sharp contrast to the crystal white snow at your feet, illuminated by the moon’s full glow. The pinpricks of light are like a promise of life in the darkness, a sense of warmth springing from the cold that envelops the world. And it humbles you as you try to find your place within it.

With John taken care of and the evening chores settled, your mind relaxes as your hands rub together to create warmth, and begins to drift once again to the issues that you have been trying to avoid thinking about. 

Being chased up into these unforgiving mountains by Pinkertons, of all people, is bad enough. But that is not what is troubling to you the most right now. Your mind keeps replaying the arguments and discontent between you and Arthur since you left the valley after Blackwater. Instead of sweet whispers in each other’s ears and breathless sighs against soft skin, you two are hurling bitter, angry words at each other, causing a coldness that you are not used to.

Something feels…broken between you.

Standing out in the cold night, the tender moments that you’re used to sharing with your love seem so far away now. You think back to sitting by the fire, curled up against Arthur’s warm body, his brawny arms secured around you as his lips dance along your neck, making you shiver with anticipation. You recall the delicate conversations of dreams and tender emotions that were whispered as you stared into each other’s eyes after making love. It seems like a whole other life now. 

Where is the roguishly charming man that you fell so hard for and so deeply in love with? You have never had any illusions of what sort of man Arthur is. But you had so desperately hoped that you were past the distemperment that perpetually plagues his mind. And a horrifying idea begins to take root in your brain:  Maybe Arthur is having second thoughts about you and this whole relationship?

Suddenly, you become short of breath and your heart flutters within your chest like a panicked bird. Tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes at the very thought of possibly losing Arthur, of the thought that the life you had envisioned spending with him could be snuffed out. You bite down on trembling lips as they get pulled into your mouth in an attempt to keep from crying. 

Looking up at the silent stars once more, the only witnesses to your pain, you are starting to question if your relationship is even real. 

—--------------------

“You comin’ to bed?”

You tense up as Arthur stands behind you where you sit in front of the fire to warm yourself. You just heard him outside yelling about some damn thing or another a few moments ago before he came blustering inside fit to be tied. He looms behind you as anger radiates off of him, making you shift nervously next to Mary-Beth.  

“I think maybe I’ll stay here with the girls for a bit longer if you don’t mind,” you say meekly, pulling your shawl up over your shoulders even more as you avoid his eyes burning into you.  

Arthur pauses for a moment, lips pulled into a hard frown, his gloved fingers twitching at his sides while he has his internal fight with himself about what to do. He’s getting really sick and tired of this tension between you. And yet, he doesn’t know what to do about it. Old habits of self-damaging thinking and second-guessed opportunities continue to plague Arthur’s mind, constricting his sanity. The words he needs to say to get you to really hear him do not come. And his actions, of course, default to what he knows best:  anger. 

“Fine,” he huffs out finally as his hand waves dismissively in the air at you before letting it fall haplessly to his side. Arthur storms out of the cabin, kicking over a wooden storage barrel on his way out and letting the door slam loudly in its hinges behind him. Arthur’s exit creates an awkward silence like a vacuum in the room and the eyes of your fellow gang members cautiously shift to you.

“You sure that was a good idea, Y/N?” asks Mary Beth, giving you a skeptical look.

Your thumb and forefinger pull at the corners of your temples in an attempt to quell the pulsing in your head. “My nerves are shot as it is. If I go over to that cabin with him we’ll just get into another fight. And I don’t need that right now. He don’t need that right now.” 

The air settles into silence as the fire in the hearth pops and crackles, its heat comforting you as you slowly allow the tension to drain from your shoulders. You nod your head in assertion as the idea solidifies in your mind.

“As angry as he is with me, it’s best I leave him alone. There’s a time to vent and a time to brood. And Arthur needs time to brood right now. He’s got a lot on his plate. Then I’ll let him vent.” You give her a small smile. “We’ll be okay.” 

Mary-beth’s eyes sparkle with red and copper as the fire reflects back into her freckled face when she takes you in for a moment. “I think it’s amazing how you understand him, Y/N. Lord knows, Arthur’s a hard nut to crack,” she hums warmly. 

“I don’t know what it is, really.” Your eyes settle unfocused on the flames in front of you with a slow blink as you ponder your beloved outlaw. “He’s a pain in my ass, for sure. But I love him just the same. Wouldn’t have him any other way, to be honest. I know he can be a beast. But even the most untamed and savage of animals need to be loved.”

Mary-Beth’s breath catches in her chest, the hopeless romantic that she is, moved by your statement. For what better way is there to surmise, Arthur Morgan, fearsome outlaw of the Van Der Linde gang, than that?

Like the crocus pushing through the cold spring soil, Mary-Beth’s frigid cheeks blossom into a serene smile for you. “I suppose if you can’t explain why you love someone, then you must really love them.” 

You lean your shoulder into hers with a contented hum of agreement. It is a bit of a relief to you that someone outside of your relationship with Arthur can see the potential beauty there. 

After a few moments, you look about the room and your gaze falls upon the poor woman that Arthur and Dutch had found. You nod to Mary-Beth, affectionately patting her hand, before standing up to move over to sit next to Mrs. Adler, offering her another blanket to cover her legs. 

“How are you holding up, Mrs. Adler? You okay?”

The woman lifts her head at the sound of her name, tearing her eyes from the cup of hot coffee in her hands to look at you. “I guess,” she shrugs. “Then again, maybe not.” Her eyes go dark once more, lost in a world of uncertainty. She looks so weak and fragile sitting there wrapped up in a blanket, trying to hold onto some sort of semblance of herself.

“It takes a lot of courage to look past what you’ve been through. Believe me, I know.” You reach out to put your hand along her arm. “You can trust us, Mrs Adler. You can trust that we won’t put you through anything like that again. And we won’t let anything happen to you either.” 

“Thank you. You’ll have to be patient with me, I suppose.” While her voice is sweet enough, her vacant eyes carry a sort of detachment to them that makes your heart just ache for her. It’s the type of look that you know just one wrong word would send them pooling with tears once more. “I’m somewhere between losing my mind and finding my soul right now.” 

“Aren’t we all?” Your kind eyes glint at her with a playful mischief to them. “You’ll fit in just fine, Mrs Adler. No doubt.” 

Mrs. Adler gives you a lopsided grin, the slight tremor of her nervously bouncing leg ceasing as the knot in her abdomen finally begins to loosen its grip. 

“Is that your husband?” She lifts her chin towards the door that Arthur just pushed through, as she tries to discreetly change the subject. 

“No,” you sigh in confirmation, “we’re not married. But we are together.” 

“He seems…gruff.” Mrs. Adler teasingly gives a raised eyebrow with her simple statement, and your head tosses back with a genial cackle erupting out of your throat. 

“That’s one word for him.” A bright smile erupts across your face as you think of Arthur. “Arthur can be the devil, for sure. But he can also be as sweet as an angel. When he wants to be. And with people he likes. Which aren’t too many.” 

Mrs. Adler replies with a humorless chuckle of her own. “Ain’t that most men?” But sadly, the dark cloud returns to settle over her features once more. “Not my Jake, though. He was a dear to me. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” Her honey eyes begin to mist again, her lips trembling woefully.

But you are quick to catch her gaze again as if looking right into her very heart. “For what it’s worth, you’ll have us for as long as you need, Mrs. Adler.”

“Sadie. Call me Sadie, I insist.” She gives you a genuine smile, probably the first since the death of her husband. “And, ‘for what it’s worth’, nobody has to understand what is between you and Arthur but you two.” 

And you and Sadie wrap your arms around each other, resting in the comfort of the other’s understanding. 

But outside in the cold, Arthur trudges through the snow, pouting and sulking as he heads back to the bunkhouse. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Things were finally going well for him. Dutch was starting to think of “retirement”, however that would look. And the gang was making its way away from trouble, but now you are all buried so deep. 

And, Arthur has you in his life now and things are going well there, too. Things are going too well. At least they were before this shitstorm descended upon the group. He longs for the blissful moments where he can taste you on his lips and smell you in his clothing. He should have known it couldn’t last. 

It’s hard not to let the all-too-familiar bitterness start to creep its way back into his fractured heart. Good things don’t happen to bad men. This is something Arthur has always been adamant about. Like a fool he was starting to believe you when you told him otherwise. When your sweet voice floated into his ears like a feather on the wind, swirling around in his mind and nesting around his heart, Arthur was starting to think he could have a decent life with you at his side, that you could somehow build something really good together. That he could finally mean something to someone. He harbored the thought that maybe, just maybe, you could eventually break away from the gang, just the two of you, after the dust had settled and everyone in the gang was safe and out of harm's way. 

Arthur wants Tilly to find the good man she deserves and to start a family of her own; to see Mary-Beth achieve that dream of being a writer and make something of herself. He’d love to see Dutch living his best life, free and wild. Maybe John could finally get his shit together and make an honest woman of Abigail and be a real father to his boy. He prays that Hosea will someday finally be able to rest his weary bones with a roof over his head and a fire at his feet. And for himself, to have you at his side on a little homestead, living the life that only existed in his daydreams before you fell into his life. 

But all Arthur ever seems to find is hardship and bloodshed. And now, he has you trapped in the middle of all of it, the very thing that he has wanted to avoid from the beginning. And what’s more terrifying is that he’s not so sure if he can protect you from it. Arthur can’t imagine the sorrow and responsibility you must feel from losing both Davey and Jenny, knowing that you did everything you could, but it wasn’t enough to save them. 

He’s not an idiot. Arthur can sense your grief and misgivings about what’s happened. What if you finally come to your senses and decide to leave him, leave the gang at the first opportunity you get to escape the danger all around you? He certainly wouldn’t blame you if you did. 

But the thought of you leaving clefts his black heart in two. What would Arthur do if he lost you? He may as well put a bullet through his skull if he did, as there would be no use in living without you. It would be like the color drained from everything in his life. The sun would refuse to shine and air would turn rancid, burning his lungs as he tried to breathe.

When you found each other, Arthur could not get over how your broken pieces fit together so perfectly with his. How wonderous it was that together, you create one person, both halves being fused together to make a whole. And now, he fears you may be slipping away from his ever-strong grasp, losing his other half, his better half.

Arthur stops at the corner of the bunkhouse, leaning against it with his forearm. His other hand comes up to his mouth, trembling as a shaky breath exhales across his lips. His eyes furrow like a canyon with concern. 

If he could just hear the sound of your laughter, then he’d be alright. 

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

*Almost there! More drama to come, but don't worry, some fluffy goodness is coming!

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