#i just fell out of drawing them for awhile

[the-blind-geisha]

Artist: DesireeU

I'm getting spoiled today, I guess. X"D No complaints here! My horse girl Lunafreya, drawn by the very talented DesireeU!

A friend of mine bought the character sometime ago but sadly couldn't keep her because she needed the money. So I took her since I helped her come up with lore for Lunafreya. ♥ She's a goddess of the sea that can look into the reflection of water to see who is in need of her assistance, as she emotionally and physically heals those around her.

Her magical fish are kind of her messengers and little friends.

[yobi-thecreator]

HEAR ME OUT Mike Schmidt x reader where their sleeping together one night and Abby gets a nightmare and goes to mikes room bcs shes scared and they all end up cuddling back to sleep. U can change it up ofcs!! I JUST WANT FLUFF WITH THEM anyways have an amazing day and remember to drink water!!

Ahh ty!! This is so cute!!!!

After Mike had come home you were preparing Dinner. Abby was in her room drawing like usual. You greeted Mike as you saw him come in through the door. He set down his jacket on the hook rack and made his way to you, giving you a kiss on your temple as his hand was on your hip. "How was work?" You asked him, he answered with a small hum. "It was okay, tiering but okay." He said he then asked if Abby had eaten anything and you answered no. He went to go get Abby so all three of you could eat together.

After all three of you ate dinner you told Abby to get ready for bed since she had school in the morning. You and Mike did the dishes and cleaned the table as Abby got ready for bed. Then you went to go check on Abby after you and Mike finished cleaning. Abby had her pajamas on already and grabbed her friends. You helped her get tucked in bed giving her a small kiss on her forehead as a goodnight, you then turned off the lights and went to go find Mike.

Soon you and Mike were cuddling in bed. His head on your chest and his arms wrapped around you. Your hand was in his hair and you softly rubbed his side with your other hand. The both of you guys fell asleep like that.

Around one in the morning you felt someone shaking you and Mike. You slowly opened your eyes and turned to look at whoever was shaking you awake. You were met with Abby holding her friend tightly close to her chest as she whispered. "Can I sleep with you guys.. I had a nightmare." She told you. Mike woke up after hearing Abby's voice. "Abby? What's wrong?" Mike asked worried. "I.. can I sleep with you guys?" She asked again. You and Mike looked at each other and nodded looking at Abby. "Come in baby." You made room between you and Mike so Abby could get in.

After awhile of finding a right spot and position to sleep in you and Mike had your arms wrapped around the girl as Abby had cuddled up to you with a small smile. She ended up falling asleep quite quickly. You and Mike stayed awake for a bit to make sure Abby wouldn't wake up again and when you both realized that she wasn't going to wake up you both let sleep consume you both.

I hope you liked it anon!😭 The first full story(?) One shot (?) That I've made ever!

[wcters]

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗪𝗛𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗣𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt with a girlfriend who is obsessed with naps/naps all the time

warnings/notes: established relationships, will probably be shorter than the last one 🤍 sorry

- you need coffee all the time

- or just any caffeine

- always nursing a red bull or iced coffee

- probably stopped working to keep you awake after awhile but you gaslight yourself into thinking it does

- you have woken up in matt’s bed with chris beside matt who’s beside you

- like hello? when did you show up and it’s too squished

- slipper socks . . . you have cold feet a lot

- you force matt to take his shoes off if he’s going on the bed. no matte how clean they are

- will not let him leave your naps

- have your own pillow and pillowcase at his house

- always have bags under your eyes

- sometimes you can’t sleep without matt

- like you have to be touching him somehow: legs tangled up, hand holding, something

- have a playlist of just phoebe bridgers songs to fall asleep to (same)

- love stealing and sleeping in his boxers and his shirts

- you’re one of those girls who will just wear shorts and a shirt but refuse to put anything else on if you get cold

- you’ll either cuddle up to matt or get more blankets

- MELATONIN GUMMIES

- you take em’ if you are just not falling asleep cause that happens

- have definitely fallen asleep in matt’s lap or something while he’s playing video games and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up or tell you you’re in the way

- like that feeling when you have to get up when you have a cat in your lap

- sleep in a starfish position unless matt’s there

- nick, chris, and matt have so many 0.5’s of you sleeping

- #mouthbreather

- you’ve almost fallen asleep while you’re out for dinner

- have a shirt/sweater that says ‘i’m tired but i’m being brave about it’

- fall asleep to true crime

- talk about the most confusing and existential stuff and then fall asleep like nothing

- people complain you sleep too much? your just a girl 🎀

- when someone asks you to hang and and you say your busy your probably just taking a nap

- you and matt are always down for a nap

- you’re a sleepy couple

- you will set like 10 alarms to wake you up because you’ll either snooze them or sleep through them

- you always have cold water and chapstick near you when you’re napping/sleeping

- soooo delirious when you first wake up

- you prefer the room or wherever you’re having a nap to be cold

- not like freezing but under the temperature you’d usually have the house/apartment

- sleep focus? 🔛 no one is getting to you unless it’s an emergency

- you’ll text everyone who might try to reach you

- ‘i am having a nap, will not answer for anything cause i’ll be asleep 😌😌’

- matt has gifted toy essential oils or bath salts to help you sleep

- christmas morning with you SUCKS and you admit that. you hate waking up early

- matt will have to drag you out of the room

- all pissed at him and everyone else until you get your gifts or go back to sleep

- fall asleep during movie nights

- you can sleep anywhere and will

- the triplets will get home from somewhere and you’re just on the couch or sitting at their dining room table asleep

- if you don’t want up, matt will just pick you up and carry you to your room

- you’ve dropped your phone on your face before cause you fell asleep watching it

- you won’t admit it out loud . . . but you love asmr

- have a playlist of your favourites

- passenger princess, sleeper edition!

- has a headrest pillow you bought

- blanket ready to go and chair laid back if no one’s behind it

- matt draws shapes on your back

- will nap with best friends

- talk and talk and let everyone know how much you love naps

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Turning 30

The Great shift was a huge time in many people’s lives. Especially those with birthdays who fell around the time of the great shift. Some turning 18, others turning 80! But still others had their hearts set on a time in their life that was quite pivotal. However, because of the shift some may have to wait a little longer to reach that milestone, while others have jumped leaps and bounds beyond it!

Harvey Singh (30 years old)

Fuuuck my head… and my clothes apparently. Damn. This is not what I imagined turning 30 would be like! 

Before the world went insane, I was so close! The damn great shift just had to happen right before my birthday. I was working at this law firm, a pretty shady place at first. Lots of scummy people taking advantage of others, but my boss was trying to turn it around! We kicked out those idiots who were causing trouble, got them arrested! I was gonna get promoted and help lead the charge for helping others… but not anymore.

The great shift landed me inside of Skyler Marlo! 18 year old quarterback for the local university. And right after a big party too. I couldn’t find a stitch of clothes to fit my new larger body. I was really lucky this frat house I woke up in had a towel nearby. But that was just the beginning of my nightmare. 

You see that smile of distress? Yeah that’s me. Instead of writing briefs and taking on clients in need, I’m here on the football field. Apparently after the upheaval the shift caused people are having trouble verifying identities and gaining access to their property/funds. That’s totally something I could be helping with! Instead I'm stuck back in the life of a teenager again. I wasn't a big fan of 18 last time I was in college.

The only thing that could get me after the shift was taking on this guy’s college scholarship. It gives me a place to stay and access to their college library, but I had to join the college football team. Some organizations like college athletics don’t seem to care who is shifted or not! As long as they got the players they need to draw in a crowd, they seemed perfectly content letting anyone play. Though who can blame them. If they saw me before I doubt they’d want some angry short king running their drills. No… now I’m not the 5’0 Indian guy who got overlooked in school. I look the picture of boy next door prom king that rules the college. 6’2, 195lbs of lean muscle, and size 15 feet. That last one took awhile to get used to! Finding cleats that size was the hardest part of this change. 

So here I am, sweating it out day after day to maintain my scholarship, while I wait for the day I’m recertified with my state’s bar! Once I’m a lawyer again I swear I’ll help out others like me forced to cling on to new lives while the system sorts things out. It sucks having to practice every day and do all these drills and grunt work! The college even has me posing for their promotional material to draw in bigger crowds at the game! Who would want this kind of life?!

Then again… it’s already been a few months… I may as well get used to college life… I was a nerdy brown kid my last run in college, mostly studying and doing what my parents wanted… now at least I can get a look at how the athletes lived… That frat did ask me if I wanted to join… I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun while I wait to get my life back.

After all, I do get pretty excited after an intense practice, and judging by some of the looks from my teammates, I may not be the only one eager to get to know my new body better. 

Phil Inver (30 years old)

People need to learn how to relax. I don’t know what the big deal is. So a bunch of people swapped bodies. What’s there to worry about? See me? I don’t have a care in the world. When I was turning 30 doctors told me I was overweight and at risk of diabetes, my work would always be on me for not applying myself, and my girlfriend said I was always too lazy in our relationship! 

But my mindset since the shift hasn’t changed! It landed me in this nice smooth and lean body! I’m glad that this guy kept in such good shape. Having actual abs is insane! Same for these toned arms! I’m not sure if he’s the shaving kinda guy or if he’s naturally smooth, but it sure as hell beats taking care of an unruly beard and body hair!

Turns out now that I look like this people are a bit more receptive to my ideals! Doctors say my heart is as healthy as a horse! Says my stress free lifestyle is a large part of that! My work? They now say my chill attitude makes things a lot more zen around the office. Guess they don’t care I don’t get too much done whenever I flash them a smile. And my girlfriend… or my boyfriend as he goes by now, certainly thinks I’m taking an active role in the bedroom. Who knew that my new stud of a boyfriend had a thing for Asian guys!?

So what am I gonna do now? Listen to music, chill as my boyfriend showers, and wait out the day as normal. Sure I’m turning 30, but it’s just another day in paradise for me! Oh what’s that? This body is only 21? Even better! I’ve got plenty of time to relax before I turn 30.

Devon Lin (30 years old)

So I was a bit nervous about turning 30. I feel like I haven’t really done all the things I wanted… and all my friends were joking saying it’s all downhill after that. I wasn’t dealing the best with the stress… Well like it or not the shift had me face that hurdle a few year further than I expected.

And I gotta say. It’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Sure I’m a bit older, but hell  I look a hell of a lot more manly! Could it be that the shift landed me in a handsome 37 year old with a built body, tan skin,  and perfect beard? Maybe… but hey. Age is just a mindset… but these muscles sure aren’t! Boom!

You like that? So do the guys at the bar! They keep insisting I don’t shave my chest or pit hair too. I think I could pull off that look. That being said, I think anything looks good on a 6’5 stud like me. Tall, dark, and handsome all the way!

Before I would jump around from job to job. Bartender, janitor, waiter, and housekeeper, but lately I’ve found my job as a bouncer at the local bar a lot more rewarding. You’d be surprised how many fights stop once I take my shirt off and start playing pool with the patrons. I’ve won nearly every game of billiards I’ve played! Though I have the sneaking suspicion it may be due to the guys staring more at me than the balls.

Guess that’s one of the benefits to working at a chill gay bar! You know, I was always a bit insecure about my body and experimenting sexually. Being a shorter gay man with a chip on his shoulder would do that to you. Now… well let’s just say now I feel like I’ve got a lot more confidence! I may have missed my 30th birthday, but I think I know how I’m gonna spend my 38th!

Marcus Garcia (30 years old)

They say when you get older you begin to value things differently. Honestly I didn’t know what to expect when I turned 30. Was I supposed to be wiser all of a sudden? Have a plan for things? In truth plenty of people younger than me had their life together compared to me. Partners. Kids. A stable job. A house.

In short. I thought I had more time. But we don’t always get to choose how fast life comes at us. I mean look at me. Didn’t expect the shift to make me 55.

Losing 25 years of my life was definitely not the easiest. The great shift nearly tears the world apart and I’m running for my life looking like retirement is right around the corner. That first day was definitely a wake up call that I did not have the same stamina that I used to. In that opening week of the shift I was pretty much running on adrenaline and coffee wherever I could get it. I took lots of naps just to stay sane. 

As the days went on and society slowly readjusted to some version of normal, I began to actually have time to look at my body. I mean I was a pretty skinny guy before, my sister would always say I needed to workout more. But I guess all it took was 25 years of my life to finally get in shape. 

Not only that, but I’m admiring the body hair. This guy was a pretty hairy dude. The salt and pepper stubble had guys starting me daddy at the gay bars, while the chest hair was still dark like my eyebrows and made my impressive physique pop. 

My feet were pretty big too. Size 14! Twice as big as my old feet, but just as hard to find shoes my size. 

Needless to say there were highs and lows to my new life. Was I happy that i was 6’6 now? Sure! Loved being tall and nearly bonking my head on doorframes. Was I upset lots of my joints were sore and that I could only take my coffee black to avoid dairy and sugar? No… that sucked. I liked my sweet drinks and I missed not waking up in pain.

Omar LeRon was a guy that lived along my street. He was a single dad raising his 5 year old, all at the age of 45.

I later learned he had a few wild days in his early 40s that lead to Omar Jr. And now in his mid 20s again he’s glad he could be more present for his son! Even if his son is the same age as him now.

He told me all of this one day when we both left our house for a jog. He found that doing some running in his new body helped him vent some much needed energy from his body, while I needed to do something physical if I was to have any hope of maintaining healthy workout routines for mine! 

Needles to say he offered some words of wisdom growing up and it really helped put some things in perspective. Meanwhile, I gave him some tips about helping his son. Turns out all those years working at my aunt’s day care counted for something, even for post shifted kids!

Our conversations started as friendly advice and then grew into more! Talks became dates. Dates became moving in. Moving in became an engagement! Now a few years after the wedding I guess you truly can call me a daddy now. Jr. sure does. He’s doing great in school and is looking forward to next week when my sister is gonna watch him for the summer.

My husband and I are gonna take our first real vacation since the great shift! We’re looking forward to it! We’ll be celebrating Omar’s 30th birthday in his new body now! He keeps making jokes saying, “Well I’ve done it before. Nothing to it the second time around.” And “Well here I thought your 30th birthday was extreme. I doubt I could top that”

He also never stops teasing me about how he loves being married to an older man and that I’m not as young as I used to be. We know it’s all in good fun. I mean, I can still keep up with him in the bedroom, where it counts… as long as he gives me a few minutes to recover after. Young guys like him are insatiable. I’ll try to power through though. After all, you only turn “30” once.

[springgirlshowers]

How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

It’s So Sweet

Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)

CW: none!

A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333

masterlist!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.

Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.

Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.

You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.

Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.

Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.

It’s been years since you and him talked.

Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.

joostklein has requested to follow you.

His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.

You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.

His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.

Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.

It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.

The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.

After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.

You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.

You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.

You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.

However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.

“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”

“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”

“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”

“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"

Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.

He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.

The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.

You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.

You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.

“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.

“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.

“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”

“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.

“So, you told me you still dance.”

“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.

“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.

“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.

“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.

“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”

“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.

“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.

“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.

The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.

The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.

You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.

The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.

“So you’ll really dance with me?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.

“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.

“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.

“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”

“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.

“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.

“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”

“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.

“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.

“That’s great! You should take it!”

“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”

You nodded, getting up before he did.

“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.

“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“Awesome then, it’s a date.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 18:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Angsty feelings, fluff. Hurt/comfort.

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

Hunter watched through his visor, HUD illuminated with your steadying vitals. He watched as your chest rose and fell, spasming every so often, heart rate spiking as your face twitched in pain. It nearly broke him.

It was so easy to imagine a future with you - somewhere safe, away from the Empire, away from mercenaries and shady jobs that paid little to nothing. Away from the possibility of a mission that you might not make it back from.

Not just for me, he realized. You’d make a great mother to Omega and his brothers were proud to stand at your side. We all deserve some rest.

Hunter chuckled to himself. When did I get so soft?

He wondered when it had grown so difficult to erect the walls that separated the man within from the soldier trained to perfection. They were built with such a profound sense of professional discipline that it had felt uncomfortable - even painful - when the war came to its inevitable end. All those thoughts and emotions had come crashing together as if the floodgates had opened and it had taken all he had to hold his world together. None of them knew what to do or how to feel, so they threw all they had into surviving a world that was no longer meant for them.

His head told him one thing - keep moving lest the weight of all that is at stake find you asleep and strike - but Hunter was tired of simply surviving. Omega had changed him. You had changed him. It was hard to see the galaxy through a soldier’s perspective now that he had something to lose.

Your fingers wrapped around his hand as it lay beside you, drawing him from his thoughts.

“Hey,” his modulated voice sounded relieved as you blinked groggily awake. He brushed a stray hair from your face.

“Hey,” you replied softly, licking dried lips.

“Here,” he said, gently sitting on the ground behind you. “This’ll help you breathe a little easier.”

Putting two strong hands under your arms, he slowly slid you upwards into a reclining position, careful not to jostle you too much as he rested your back against his chest to relieve the squeezing pressure of gravity.

The strained and tightened muscles took several seconds to quiet their panic at the motion, but soon you felt yourself relax into his chest.

“There you go, nice and easy.” He pulled a hydro pack from his belt and guided your hands as they lifted it to your mouth.

The liquid flowed cool and refreshing across parched lips. It could’ve been poison and you wouldn’t have cared, it was the best water you’d had in what felt like an eternity.

He pulled it away as you grabbed at it with a whine.

“Not too fast,” he chuckled, “You’ll make yourself sick.”

You made a face and he shook his head. If you could see his eyes, you knew they’d be amused.

“How’s the pain?” he asked more seriously.

You stared up at the sky above, “Could be worse, I guess.” It was the truth, but you felt guilty for leaving out how much your ribs throbbed still with every breath or how your leg ached terribly and you couldn’t look at it without wanting to throw up. It was better though, no longer so sharp and overwhelming. The painkillers had done their job though they seemed to be wearing off. You bit your lip, inhaling as best as you could. You could feel him watching.

“You sure? I can give you a little more painkiller, it’s been awhile.”

You let out a breath, “Okay.”

He reached to the side, pulling another syringe from the pocket of the larger medkit before pulling aside the loose fabric and jabbing it into the thigh of your good leg.

Though it was barely a pinch, the muscle tightened and cramped as though it were spring loaded and ready for a fight. It held that way a few long seconds before relaxing once more.

He smells good. Even fully kitted and covered in dust, that familiar scent of an earthy plasma wafted over you, surrounding you with the calm and caring comfort you craved so desperately.

Inhaling evenly with eyes closed, you found your head resting backwards, nestling in the gap between his helmet and chestplate. He rubbed your leg, hand firm and warm beneath his glove.

“Good girl. Relax, you’re okay.”

Good girl. The shame from before rose headily once again - hot and cold all at once.

“Hunter?” you began.

He grunted in response.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I acted and for running away. I just want you to know I didn’t mean all those things I said.”

He breathed in, letting it out slowly. “No, I'm sorry.” He paused, moving his hand to brush the hair from your face. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. I shouldn't have done a lot of things.”

“We both yelled.” You said softly, reaching to the side where his other hand rested on your thigh.

He squeezed your fingers. “Yeah,” he chuckled gently. He grew still as you drew his hand into yours, weaving your fingers between his own.

“I don't hate you, Hunter.”

He shook his head. “I know you don't.” He was silent again. “All those things you heard that day… they weren't true.”

The claw around your chest grew tighter. “W-what…?” It was all you could choke out over a sudden spasming of lungs sending hot bolts of pain searing through your chest, before calming again to a distant agony. He squeezed your hand, seeming to understand the unasked question.

“Tech called you an asset. A member of our team. The same way he'd describe Omega - his sister. But I….” He paused, looking down, helmet still on but easy to read. Uncertain. Afraid. He took a breath. “But I… I said you were more than that to me. I… I think I'm in love with you.”

I think I’m in love with you. I think I’m in love with you.

…In love with you.

His words played over and over again in your head, tolling like a bell. It didn’t feel like anything at all. Emotional shock, much like its physical counterpart, protected the senses, lulling you into a false sense of denial before hitting you full force and all at once. It almost seemed to good to be true.

Hunter watched your careful silence, a shameful panic beginning to take hold, as you gave no response.

“Don’t…” your voice was quiet, but Hunter knew it well enough to know the flood it held back. “Don’t say that. Don’t say what you don’t mean, Hunter. Please don’t just tell me what I want to hear. It isn’t fair.”

You were tired of crying, tired of that raw burning skin around your eyes, tired of the emotions that built you up only to drag you back down again and again.

“But… I do mean it.” He replied, “I mean every part of it. I love you, cyar’ika. I… I thought I lost you when you left and it was like I couldn’t breathe.”

You sniffed, ignoring how the shuddering breaths sent a growing ache through your chest. “But…. I saw….”

Hunter took a breath. “You saw the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“But…”

He cut you off, “Tara came to me hoping to find a release - some kind of comfort. I couldn’t give that to her and I told her so. I don’t love her. I love you and will only ever love you!”

A whirlwind of emotion combined with already slowing thoughts left you confused, unsure, and at the mercy of that ever present doubting voice.

He can’t love you. You’ve screwed up so many times. You are unworthy.

“You… I can’t…” you began to protest.

“No.” Hunter spoke firmly as if to command that inner voice to submission. “Why do you think you don’t deserve this?”

He shot a second flare into the sky. A flash of light illuminated the darkened, cloudy sky, signaling that the Marauder had acknowledged and would make its way to extract. Hunter turned his head back to you.

“Everyone on that ship up there wants you to stay. You are a part of our team, our family.” He paused, “You are a part of me and I don’t think I can live without you.”

The tears came hot and quick now, dripping down his shoulder plate where they fell from your eyes.

“Hunter, I….”

The ground began to quake and rumble once more. Rocks shook with a violence and roared as if the splitting ground caused them great pain. And for the second time that day, you found yourself falling.

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

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[grievedeeply]

dating glenn rhee headcanons

fem!reader (no pronouns used) | tws: it's the walking dead so.. gore, death and injuries are all talked about. 

notes: this is formatted a bit differently than my other dating headcanons, but i wanted to branch out a bit if that makes sense. i feel like i can go into more detail without it getting messy or making you have a headache. it’s a lot to read without any breaks in between. let me know if you like this way! this is incredibly self indulgent.. so. thank you @energeticsirens for encouraging me in my delusions <3

FIRST MEETING & HE REALIZES HE LIKES YOU

when glenn first meets you, he tries not to stare. he lets his eyes linger on you for a few moments but he doesn’t want you to notice that he’s looking at you 

you’ll become an integral part of the atlanta group. you’re skilled with your weapon of choice, you’re kind and you’re honest, you’re genuine, and that’s what draws glenn to you to easily. you’re just.. good. 

he falls first. he can’t help it. you’re frequently assigned to runs with him which annoy him a bit at the beginning. he’s just used to going into the city on his own and he felt like another person would just drag him down until you came along

you’re capable and you’re a good listener. you don’t question his decisions.. you trust him, and god, it feels good to be trusted. you easily put your life in his hands right from the very beginning

he realizes he likes you at the most mundane moment. you’re just sitting around, talking to someone at camp about whatever it might be.. but you smile and you laugh, and he feels his face heat up

and then you smile at him, waving at him from where you sat. he’s gone, really 

his heart belongs to you long before you ever realize he likes you, but it’s sooo obvious to everyone else in the group

it’s all in the way he looks at you. his eyes get so soft and he has a little grin on his lips every time he sees you 

YOU REALIZE YOU LIKE HIM

it’ll take you a little longer for you to realize that you like glenn. you’ll think he’s attractive from the moment you meet him, but it takes you awhile to even admit your feelings to yourself

you realize you like him in the middle of atlanta. you’re scavenging for supplies— the essentials like food that hasn’t gone bad or clothing that’ll protect against the elements— and glenn is looking around for anything for the kids 

"they’ll get bored with the stuff back at camp,” he says, scouring every isle through the store, “it’s hard enough for us out there. can’t you imagine what it’s like for them? they’re just kids.” he tells you, finally meeting your eyes. 

“the least i can do is find a new toy for them.” he mutters under his breath. he turns a corner and exits your line of sight.. but all you can see is him and his beautiful smile in your mind 

when you return to camp that night, glenn’s carrying an extra bag. he found it somewhere in one of the stores you passed through and filled it with anything and everything he thought the kids would like

you watch as they gather around him, eyes sparkling in curiosity. he pulls the toys out of the bag and they all hug him, knocking him to the ground in the process

he laughs, and you go weak in the knees. you knew then that what you felt for him was more than platonic.. but you didn’t care 

glenn’s heart is what draws you to him. for a man living through an apocalypse, he’s determined to keep his kindness. it’s admirable, and you can’t help but to fall for him

HOW YOU GET TOGETHER

glenn is a bit of an overthinker. he wants everything to be perfect for when he asks you out. or.. as perfect as it can be in a world like yours

realistically, none of the things he wants to do with you are possible. he can’t take you to an aquarium. he can’t bring you to a restaurant. he can’t do all of the cheesy, cliche stuff he saw in the movies before the world fell because it just isn’t possible anymore

his confession comes in the heat of the moment, after a near death experience on your end at the prison. walkers are flooding through a breach in the fence and it’s a picture that’ll be forever etched into his mind. you’re holding a walker back from your neck with your bare hands and he’s powerless to stop it. he watches from the corner of his eye as you finally dig your knife out of the holder on your belt and into it’s skull. it falls to the floor and you pull back with a huff 

he resists the urge to run to you and instead breathes out a sigh of relief that you’re still alive and standing with him. you go back to killing walkers as if nothing had happened, but his thoughts linger on how you almost died right in front of him

once the waves stop and the fence is back up, glenn goes to find you. you’re in a more secluded area of the prison, sitting with your back against the cold brick of the wall

“you mind?” glenn asks, gesturing to the empty spot on the floor between you. you shake your head and he sits next to you. you sit in silence for a little while, just enjoying each others company

“no bites?” his voice cuts through the silence. “no bites.” you repeat back to him, a breath escaping through your lips

“i thought.. you almost died, y/n.” he mutters, finally turning his head in your direction. he had been staring at the wall before but now his eyes are pouring into yours, and you don’t know what to do or say anymore. “i’m alright,” you reassure him, pulling up the sleeves on your shirt to show your skin to him. no bites, as you promised. 

“i know. but seeing that made me realize that i don’t want you in danger. ever. i care about you too much to let something like that happen again.” he tells you, voice filled with determination. “i’m sorry,” he says immediately after, “but i can’t.. i can’t.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “can’t what?” you ask, and his words cut you off from being able to continue your train of thought 

“i like you.” 

the room is silent again, and you can practically hear the beating of your own heart in your ears. glenn doesn’t break your gaze as he waits for you to say something.. anything

“fuck, glenn.” you whisper out to him, shaking your head, pulling your lip between your teeth. “i like you too.” you tell him after a pause

you can see his face light up, and he immediately wraps you in the biggest hug he can muster. his grip is tight, and his face is buried in your neck

“you have to promise me that if you need help you’ll call for me, okay?” 

“okay,” you reply.

you can feel him smile against your skin. 

FIRST KISS

he wants your first kiss together to be special. but god, he wants to kiss you so bad. he doesn’t know how much longer he can resist doing it

he just.. adores you. he looks at you and the weight of the world falls off his shoulders. he has so much he needs to protect but he sees you and it feels normal again

the two of you spend a lot of time on guard together. it’s a quiet way to get to see each other and glenn thinks it’s really special. sometimes you’ll get distracted and start talking. talking about life before the world fell, and you’ll talk about the future 

it’s in one of these moments that he kisses you. you’re talking about something, and you aren’t even looking at him. you’re looking up at the sky or at the trees, he can’t tell, but you just look so.. beautiful. your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight and your smile is so bright

he can’t hold back anymore. he lifts his hand to your cheek, and you turn to look at him. his gaze flickers back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“can i kiss you?” he asks. you nod, blinking a few times. his voice was so soft. you never wanted to stop hearing him talk

with your words, he closes his eyes and presses his lips to yours. his lips are just as gentle as his voice is, and his touch eases you into him and makes you weak at the knees. his other hand moved to cup your other cheek, and yours fell limp at your sides. he held onto your face and kept you close..

you were made for him, he thinks. your lips fit against his so perfectly, he can’t help but to believe it. two pieces of a puzzle made whole

he pulls away, chuckling breathlessly. his eyes meet yours, and the two of you just laugh, melting away into each others arms. his forehead presses to yours, and he doesn’t ever want this moment to end

FIRST I LOVE YOU

he says it first, and it slips out without him even realizing he said it

the two of you finally have some downtime, away from the responsibilities of helping to keep your group safe. you’re sitting together, your fingers entwined as you talk about whatever might be on your mind

glenn’s paying attention, he swears he is, but he gets so lost in you that he forgets to respond sometimes. his gaze is soft and he is completely and utterly infatuated by you

you wave your hand in front of his face and pull him out of his thoughts, a soft grin on your lips. still, your eyes show concern

“you alright?” you ask after a pause, and he nods, eyes skimming across your features. he wants to memorize you. he wants to keep every single detail of you in his memory

“you sure?” you ask again, brows raised as though you don’t believe him. he nods again, moving a little closer to you. “just thinking about how much i love you.” he says through a smile, and your features soften

it takes him a moment to realize what he said, but he can’t back on it now, and he doesn’t want to. he’ll just look away from you for a few moments until your hand comes to rest on his cheek, turning his attention and his head back to you

“i love you too.” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his

he swears his heart melts in this moment. he had never felt so loved and safe in someones arms before. he lets out a relieved sigh, his arms wrapping around your waist

“good,” he chuckles, “i love you so much.” he says again. he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of saying those words

you nuzzle into him, “i love you too, glenn.” 

he shuts his eyes. everything is perfect. 

INTIMACY

glenn adores being intimate. moments where he gets to hold you in his arms are very few and far between, so he cherishes each and every one of them

when he’s around, he’ll most likely have a hand on you. it might be wrapped around your shoulder or your waist, but it’s there. you help to ground him into reality, but he really just likes feeling you next to him

he loves to cuddle. there’s something so special about laying down next to you and scooping you up into his arms

he’ll usually be the big spoon.. but on his bad days, he just wants to be held. he loves feeling your lips on his neck and hearing your reassuring words, even if they’re muffled by his skin

he loves falling asleep next to you. sometimes, you won’t even be touching, but by the morning your legs are tangled together and your head is buried in his chest

he’s really big on kissing, too. he just adores the feeling of your lips against his and he never wants to stop once he starts. your lips are so soft and so sweet, he’ll melt into your arms as soon as you start kissing him

kissing him out of the blue will always get him flustered. you’ll come up to him and kiss him for a few seconds and walk away, going back to whatever you were doing before. he’ll just watch as you leave, slack jawed and blushing 

it isn’t just physical intimacy that you two share, though. you’re both very open about your emotions. you’re transparent about your feelings and deepest fears, helping each other to get through anything and everything

he’ll talk about losing you. ever since he met you, it’s his biggest worry. the world is cruel and unforgiving, and one misstep could result in you getting hurt or killed. he can’t handle thinking about it, but you reassure him

you may not have all the time in the world, but dwelling on it now when everything is okay won’t do anything but make yourself miserable

you’ll take his hand in your own and rest your head on his shoulder, whispering soft ‘i love yous’ over the breeze  

LOVE LANGUAGES

glenn doesn’t restrict himself to just one love language.. so he’ll indulge in every single one of them to cater to the moment or how he’s feeling

first, acts of service. he’ll find himself doing anything and everything he can to make your life easier. if he has time, he’ll help you with whatever task you might be working on. he’ll make you breakfast every day so you don’t have to cook. he’ll do your laundry when you’re feeling down. little things that— in his eyes— make all the difference

gift giving. he loves to give you gifts. he’ll find all sorts of different things while he’s out on a run, and sometimes they just happen to remind him of you. it could be a toy of your favorite animal, a book you mentioned liking, a poster of something you enjoy.. anything. he will shower you in these gifts when he can. he just feels like you deserve it

quality time is big for glenn. he loves being around you. he’ll just sit in silence with you if that’s what you want to do. as long as he gets to be in your company for awhile, that’s all that matters to him. there’s something so special about sitting next to you and relishing in each others just.. being there. it helps him remember that you’re real, and you’re his

words of affirmation is a frequent one for him. he says he loves you over and over again. he sees you often, but he won’t let you walk away without hearing him say it to you. he compliments you, your skills, your beauty and your kindness, all the time. he’ll also just tell you how much he appreciates you and how much he values you being around, even if you aren’t actively talking

psychical touch! glenn loves holding you, as mentioned before. the feeling of you next to him is so grounding. the world may be horrible now, but he has you, and that’s what having you in his arms makes him remember. he loves holding your hand, kissing you, any sort of thing that lets him hold you tight

MISCELLANEOUS

he’s just.. the sweetest person in the world. he would lay down and die for you if he had to, and he truly believes he got lucky with you

he loves with everything in him. he loves with his heart, his soul, his mind, everything. he will absorb you and enjoy you as much as you will let him. he will never tire of you

he is so great at comforting you. if you’re feeling upset or stressed out, glenn’s by your side. his arm wraps around your shoulders and he’ll let you talk about it. if you don’t feel like it, he’ll tell you how much he loves you and all of the things he adores about you

he has the most soothing presence. just him being next to you is enough to calm you down, make you happy, anything. his voice is soooo.. so soft too

he’ll whisper sweet things in your ear throughout the day and as he gets more confident in himself in terms of your relationship, he’ll do a bit of teasing in front of the others. he’ll kiss you in front of the group, he’ll wrap his arms around you and hug you from behind.. all of it flusters you, and he lives for it 

he loves to look at you. he gets lost in your eyes so easily and he’ll find himself staring at you a lot

he’s the bravest person you’ve ever known. he’ll stand in front of you and protect you no matter what the situation might be 

he’s just.. so sweet. the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. loving, caring, gentle and so incredibly beautiful inside and out

he has the purest heart and intentions and it shows in everything he does 

it shows in how he loves :) 

[chris-slut]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

pairing. sub!matt x dom!reader.

summary. matt gets needy and wants you to ride him.

a/n. idk how much i fw this 🙂

“matt? what’s wrong baby?” you ask the pouty boy, watching as he grinds against the edge of the bed. he quickly shakes his head in embarrassment as his pace begins to slow down.

“don’t be embarrassed, tell me what you need so i can help you,” matt quickly leans up as you notice the light pink hue on his face and tips of his ears. “just wan’ you to ride me,” he whispers.

“see, wasn’t hard to say,” you mumble while leaning over and straddling his lap. you run your soft fingertips up and down the little bit of stomach he’s showing. “take it off,” you tell matt— him quickly listening and ripping the shirt over his head.

matt watches as your chest moves against the loose t shirt you fell asleep in. “can, can you take it off?” matt asks as he points at your shirt. you lift the shirt over your head as you watched matt’s facial expression change. “you can touch me, it’s okay.”

his lips attach to your chest as he places soft kisses against you, as if you could break if he goes any harder. “gonna take these off, is that okay?” you ask while sliding your fingers against his boxers he previously fell asleep in. “mhm- please,” matt whines as he feels your acrylic nail run along the outline of his hard tip through the gray material.

you pull them down, matt’s tip leaking with pre-cum. spitting in your hand, you begin to move it up and down matt’s length. once you rub your thumb against his tip— matt looses it. “f..fuck!” he says as you draw circles against his aching tip.

“gonna be a good boy for me and let me ride you like you wanted?” you ask. a whimper escapes past matt’s lips as he nods. “mhm, gon- gonna be a good boy f’ you,” matt says as he watches you slide your black panties to the side.

you straddle him again, this time your hovering over his aching tip. you sink down onto him. “oh fuck,” you whisper— beginning to move up and down against him.

“doing so good baby,” you whisper too matt, his response being a loud moan. his hands are on his side which makes you scoff. “what did i say, you can touch me matt,” you tell him which he quickly grabs onto your waist. “sorry..” matt says.

“feels ‘s good,” matt mutters out as his hands run up and down your chest. “such a good boy,” matt’s cock begins to twitch in you, which causes him to begin letting out breathy whimpers.

“gonna cum,” matt says while he throws his head back. “no you aren’t, gonna wait for me okay?” you say as matt bites down on his lip. “don’t know if i can’t hold it!” he moans out as you move quicker.

you watch as matt struggles to hold his release in, making you clench around him. his soft lips bruised from biting them to try and suppress his noises could make you cum alone. “cmon, cum ‘w me baby,” it doesn’t take matt awhile to quickly release inside of you, his chest rising up and down heavily. matt watches as you cum around his cock which makes him let out a low moan.

as you go to get off him, matt holds you down. “matt, what do you think your doing?” you ask as he looks up you. “can we stay like this? please.. just for a little longer,” he asks as you cave in. “fine, js’ a little bit.”

@submattenthusiast @chrissturniolos1wife @qnzov @stvrnmc @mattslolita @xoxobabyslut @starsturns

[slowburningechoes]

jewelry of every kind

no thoughts except Spencer wearing MGG’s rings…

Summary: Spencer tries out wearing more accessories and you decide to show him just how much you love them.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: 18+ Content (NSFW/NSFM), smut, hand kink, finger sucking, choking, fingering, piv sex

Word Count: 1.3k

“Those are new,” you say, motioning to Spencer’s hands as he skims through the contents of a file with sleep.

Scattered across his fingers were four golden rings of various sizes and shapes, but the one that took you by surprise most was the large round pinky ring.

“Hm,” he mumbles, jolting is head up from his work, his sleepy eyes meeting yours. “Oh, these? I’ve always had them sitting around, I figured it was probably time I wore them.” Then, he went back to his work.

You cozy yourself onto the couch cushion beside where Spencer was still hunched over, running his lengthy fingers down each page. Normally, this alone was enough to do you in, but the addition of how his hands looked donning jewelry made your head spin.

“I like them,” you caught his right hand as he reaches the end of a page, bringing it up to your face, “a lot…”

Before Spencer could switch his brain off from work mode, you had taken his thumb into your mouth and began to suck on it with just enough pressure to make his nerves stand on end.

The paper still in his free hand fell onto the coffee table and an uncontrollable gasp came from his lips.

"Oh it's like that?" Spencer inquired, watching you intensely as you looked at him with wide pleading eyes.

"Mhm," you hum, causing a vibration that ran up from his thumb and up to his neck. "Makes me want them inside of me so bad."

Without warning, Spencer draws you to straddle his lap and into a passionate kiss. As his tongue found his way into your mouth to explore, his fingers drifted to part your robe where he discovered your bareness underneath.

"God, y/n... nothing underneath?" he asks, slipping a finger down your slit and feeling your warmth already pooling. "And so wet for me already."

His finger dips further into your center and the cool metal of one of his rings brushes against your clit, eliciting an instinctive moan to cry from your throat.

"Does it feel good, angel?" Spencer purred, slipping another finger in and curling them to hit your sensitive spot.

Another cry bellowed from your lips, throwing your head back in the process. "Yes, yes so good, Spence."

The arch of your back made your robe come completely undone, revealing your swollen breasts. Without missing a beat, Spencer brought his mouth to one of them, biting them gently. As he did so, his fingers pumped in and out of you faster, the metal providing a stinging cold sensation against the heat growing from your wetness and the friction. You feel an ache begin to grow in your abdomen and pressure build as he increases the dexterity of his fingers, eventually you find your release around them slicking his fingers with even more of your arousal.

As you come down from your high, Spencer slowly removes his fingers and brings them to your parted lips with a devilish grin. You run your tongue in between them, your arousal coating your tongue before taking his digits completely in your mouth, nearly touching the golden accessories that had started your obsession.

Your cum tasted musky and sweet upon your tongue, but you wanted so desperately for Spencer to taste it, too - so you kissed him deeply, gliding your tongue against his.

"You always taste so good, baby," he growls, the feeling of his erection growing underneath you.

"Mmm, you know what? I've been wanting to wear a certain piece of jewelry again for awhile," you state, unbuckling his pants while grinding against him lightly.

Spencer could hardly form words with you touching his bulge, but he managed to croak, "W-which one is that?"

As you pulled his pants completely to the ground, springing his cock up to his navel, you leaned in to whisper, "Your hand as my necklace."

A guttural groan escaped him and it sounded like a melody to your ears. You glided your folds on top of his erection before sinking down on him at an achingly slow pace, causing Spencer to firmly grasp one of your ass cheeks and the other to grip the back cushion of the couch.

When you reached the point of being completely full of him, Spencer suddenly began to fuck up into you with growing force and pace. Taking you by surprise, you whimper and attempt to regain your pace by placing your hands upon his braced chest. Without warning, his hand shoots to clasp around your throat, squeezing gently.

"Is this what you meant, angel?" he asked, adding extra pressure and thrusting into you with more force.

You let out a desperate moan and respond, "Y-yes, sir. Doesn't it look so pretty on me?"

"Yes," Spencer rubs his thumb against the peak of your throat and admires it as he speaks. "It looks like it was made for you."

The pressure of his hand around your throat makes your arousal grow and drip down onto the base of his cock freely. The sounds of your bodies slapping to together with a perfected rhythm in combination with your exchanges of whimpers and moans make your body rise with chills. His ringed hand clasping your throat, the way he looked in ecstasy with his eyes rolled back, and the way that he completely filled you made you closer and closer to your second climax.

"I love you so much, y/n - fuck," Spencer huffed, his cock growing harder with every sloppy thrust.

His hand moves from your throat to intertwine through your hair, yanking it back to reveal your red and tender neck. Quickly, he leans forward to place open-mouthed kisses along the faint swollen hand print. The sensitivity of your neck translated to the increasing sensitivity between your legs.

"I - I love you, too, Spence," you say breathlessly, reaching down to gently rub your clit in a desperate attempt to release yourself.

"Oh, how pitiful, angel. Are you close to cumming again?" he murmured, nibbling gently on your earlobe and grasping both of your ass cheeks firmly.

All you can manage is a whimper of confirmation as your eyes close and your breath tightens.

"We can cum together, okay?" he hums, feeling your walls tighten around his pulsing dick.

"Y-yes, please, please," you faintly whisper, your clit becoming nearly numb with pleasure.

Spencer readjusts himself underneath you to hit your cervix perfectly, eliciting a genuine sob of pain and need from your lips. His grip on your backside became close to clawing into your skin, but it only increased the euphoria of your ever approaching high.

A few more deep thrusts was all it took for both of you to fall apart. Spencer cried out your name with sweat beading against his brow while he released his seed deep into your throbbing core. You nearly collapsed on top of him from the weakness of your thighs as they shook with your release. The tightness of his grip only grew as he lifted you up and down a few more times to make sure that you were completely full of him.

As both of you came down from your high, you found yourself kissing one another with a tired passion that was full of the most permeating intimacy. The nearly drunken feeling that it caused was suddenly cut off by Spencer's hand placing a stingingly firm slap upon your ass.

"I think I left a mark," Spencer said teasingly, examining your throat and backside.

"I sure hope so," you respond, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts.

He places a soft kiss upon your lips before saying, "So, you're saying I should wear these more often?" Spencer twirls his pinky ring suggestively.

"You better," you said, toying with his hands. "I'd like to wear my necklace more often, too."

Bringing you into a deep embrace, he chuckled lightly, "Your wish is my command, angel. And how could I possibly deny you?"

please feel free to request! (or let me know what you think!)

[cherryrainn]

Omgigmgmgkgmg imagine striker finding an injured exorcist whom is hurt so bad and she doesn't want to be an exorcist, after awhile she's able to escape being an exorcist and lives with striker in a relationship

𝙎𝙊𝙁𝙏 .

༄ ⠀𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | striker x exorcist! reader.

༄ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | injury, striker might be a bit ooc

༄ ⠀𝐚𝐮𝐭���𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i have absolutely no clue if you wanted me to make the exorcist a reader or some random exorcist so i just did reader hehe. anyway i'm super proud of this. also i changed the ending up a bit so sorry about that </3

Striker sauntered down the dimly lit alley, his long tail swaying lazily behind him. He was bored out of his fucking mind. He kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement as he idly scanned his surroundings.

Turning a corner, his eyes caught sight of something not quite out of the ordinary—a figure slumped against the wall. Striker's first instinct was to ignore it and move on. After all, bloodshed was as common as rain in a storm.

He was about to turn away, but then something caught his eye—something that made him pause in his tracks. The figure was bleeding gold—strange, shimmering rivulets that stood out against the backdrop of darkness. intrigued despite himself, Striker approached cautiously, his curiosity piqued.

As he drew closer, he realized with a start that the figure was an exorcist—her spear lying abandoned beside her, her mask shattered in half.

For a moment, Striker entertained the idea of finishing the exorcist off himself and putting an end to her misery with a swift stroke of her own weapon. But before he could act, a voice pierced the silence, starting him.

"You... you're not going to kill me?" The words were barely a whisper, barely audible above the din of the city.

Striker's gaze snapped to the exorcist, surprised to find her conscious and aware of her surroundings. He remained silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

"No," he finally replied, his voice a low growl. "I'm not. Not yet, anyway."

The silence hung heavy between them. Striker could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the gravity of his decision sinking in with each passing second. He could easily end her here and now—she was defenseless, powerless to stop him. But something stayed in his hand—something he couldn't quite explain.

"The fuck happened to you?" Striker finally asked, his tone betraying a hint of genuine curiosity.

Her response was a bitter laugh, a hollow sound that echoed through the empty alleyway. "Does it matter?" she muttered, her voice barely audible above the distant rumble of traffic.

Striker fell silent, his grip on the spear loosening slightly as he considered her words. Did it matter? Did anything matter?

And then, just when he least expected it, she spoke again, her voice trembling. "I don't wanna be an exorcist anymore."

Her words hit Striker like a punch to the gut, stirring something deep within him that he couldn't quite name. He never thought he'd ever find an exorcist willing to abandon their calling, willing to forsake everything they had ever known for the chance at a different life.

For a moment, Striker found himself at a loss for words, his mind racing with a million different thoughts and emotions. And then, without a second thought, he made a decision. Fuck, he was crazy.

"Come with me," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'll take care of ya."

The exorcist's eyes widened in surprise. "But... why?"

Striker shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I don't know. Call it a moment of weakness."

With that, he gently lifted her into his arms, her weight surprisingly light despite her injuries. careful to avoid drawing attention, Striker maneuvered through the streets, his boots echoing softly against the cobblestones.

They reached his cheap, rundown hotel room without incident. Striker pushed open the window with his foot, the hinges creaking in protest as they entered the cramped space.

Setting her down on the edge of the tub, Striker turned on the faucet, filling it with warm water to soothe her wounds. He rummaged through his meager belongings, searching for his med kit. He can't believe he was doing this. Was he finally going crazy?

"What's yerr name?" He asked, his voice softer now as he located the med kit beneath a pile of dirty clothes.

The exorcist hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on her legs. "Y/N," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Striker nodded, acknowledging her response, responding with a "Striker." before he moved to tend to her wounds. His touch was rough, and as he worked, Y/N winced at the pain of his touch, but she remained silent, enduring it as best she could.

She knew she should be grateful—he was helping her, after all—but she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the roughness of his messages.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Striker finished patching her up, his expression unreadable as he stepped back to survey his handiwork. She took a deep breath, relieved that it was over, and she mustered up the courage to speak.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Striker glanced at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he nodded in acknowledgment. "Don't mention it," he replied gruffly, his tone betraying none of the emotions swirling inside him.

With that, Y/N gathered her strength and made her way to the window, her movements slow and unsteady. She knew it was probably time to go anyway.

Before she climbed out of the window, she hesitated, glancing back at Striker one last time. "I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the distance between them.

Striker said nothing in response, but he watched her go with a sense of resignation.

A few days later, Striker was sauntering down another dim alley, thinking about how much time had been wasted since he’d helped Y/N. Maybe he was getting soft, but the thought of her was lingering in his mind.

Lost in thought, Striker nearly missed her—a figure slouched against the wall, this time with no wings, no halo, not really bleeding anymore but obviously bruised. At first, he didn't recognize her. But then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, breaking into a run.

Reaching her, he skidded to a halt, his eyes wide with shock and concern. "What happened?" he demanded, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and she smiled—a soft, sad smile that made Striker's black heart clench in his chest.

"I'm not an exorcist anymore," she said softly.

Striker stared at her, the pieces falling into place. He didn't know much about this heaven shit, but he could only assume one of the higher-ups had ripped her wings and halo off like some fucking sicko. So much for being good.

For a moment, Striker was at a loss for words, his mind reeling from the revelation. And then, without thinking, he reached out, pulling Y/N into a tight embrace, as if he could shield her from whatever she must be feeling.

"Fuck 'em," he muttered against her hair, his voice rough with emotion. "You're better off without 'em."

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking through the fabric of his jacket. And as they sat there, clinging to each other in the dim light of the alley, Striker realized he didn't give a damn about getting soft.

Sometimes, he thought, moments of weakness weren't such a bad thing after all.

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Seventeen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.9k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally y'all get the other part of the night after that meeting with Birdy, Frank, and Jimmy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @danzer8705 @mattys-rat1989 @kezibear

Arms wrapped tight over your chest, you began to make your way down the drive as the bitter wind blew around you. Behind you, you heard the sound of Michael closing Birdy's front door before his heavy footsteps soon caught up with you along the pavement. Your anticipation of an angry outburst from him only rose with each thump of his boots, the hammering of your heart pounding in sync with them. 

“What were ya thinkin’ goin’ out like that alone, Grace?” Michael hissed out between his teeth as he fell in step beside you. “D'ya have any idea how reckless that was? How close ya could've been to gettin’ yourself killed tonight?”

You blew out a rough breath in frustration, your eyes focused on your own feet as you walked. Of course you were aware of how stupid and dangerous it had been for you to meet that Serpent alone, but you hadn't really had another option. And it certainly wasn't like you wanted to go to that meeting, either. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you took in the sight of Michael beside you. Despite the way the tension had eased from his body and the way the fire had mostly left his eyes once he'd gotten away from his family, you could still see the fear and anger lingering in them as the lights from the Garda car parked farther down the street lit him in a wash of blue and red. 

“Of course I damn well know that it was dangerous,” you told him. “But I didn't have a choice. He knows who I am. And not only that, but Birdy was the one to see him leaving the letter to meet him in my sister’s letterbox , Michael. Meaning he knows where both her and I live. What was I supposed to do?” you asked, irritation in your own voice. “Was I just supposed to ignore the letter and put my sister in danger? Because that seemed like the far more reckless and stupid option.”

“No, I wouldn't expect ya to just ignore it,” he snapped back, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “But ya saw me before ya were headin’ out. Ya should’ve damn well said somethin’ to me! Ya shouldn't have dealt with this alone!” 

“It was my problem to deal with!” you snapped back, keeping your voice low so as not to draw attention from the Garda. “I didn't come to Dublin expecting help with my situation! And I'm sure as shit glad I didn't say anything to you because I'm sure that Serpent would've happily shot you on sight if you'd come with me tonight!”

Michael loosed an irritated grunt at your words as he followed you up your sister’s drive. Her car was parked in front of the house and the sight of it shot a pang of guilt through you. You'd told her you were going out to work at a coffee shop before her shift at the hospital ended, and that had been quite awhile ago now. With everything that had happened tonight, you'd forgotten to let her know that you were alright. She was probably worried about you by now, wondering what coffee shop was open quite this late at night.

“I can take care of myself,” Michael said, his tone sharp. “It isn't your job to look out for me.”

Your teeth grit together as your hand dug into your pants pocket, feeling for the key to Megan's house as the pair of you approached the front door. As much as you'd felt safe with Michael lately, your situation wasn't his to take on. Especially with what he already had going on with his family and his health. You weren't going to dump your problems onto him, too.

“Well it isn't your job to look out for me, either,” you shot back. “I'd been doing just–just fine on my own for years, Michael. I don't need you or your family risking your lives for me.” Your hand shook as you inserted the key into the lock, intentionally keeping your focus away from him. “I don't need anymore people’s lives weighing on my conscience.”

You twisted the door handle with more roughness than necessary, pushing the door open and eager for a chance to get away from Michael’s wrath for the night. You just wanted to end this shitty day already, but his hand darted out and grabbed you by the wrist, halting you in place on the front step. Your head turned sharply in his direction, prepared to tell him to leave you alone tonight, but the unexpected softness on his face immediately gave you pause. 

“Grace, I–”

“Oh my God ,” Megan's voice rang through the house, cutting Michael clean off. “You've been gone for hours! Where the hell have you been? I was starting to get–”

Megan appeared around the corner from the kitchen and immediately stopped dead in her tracks when she saw you. Her eyes darted from you to Michael and then straight to the bandage on your forehead. Her mouth fell open as her eyes grew wide.

“What the hell happened?” she asked you. Her panicked gaze shifted to Michael before you could even answer as she roughly demanded, “What the hell happened to her? Why is she coming home with a bandage?”

“Nothing to worry yourself about,” you grumbled as you stepped into the house, slipping loose from Michael’s grasp before you began to take off your boots. “So leave him out of it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Megan’s face contort into something stern as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her hardened stare fixed on Michael as he stepped inside the house a moment later, closing the door softly behind himself. Inwardly you braced yourself for another outburst–this time from your sister. 

“Like hell I'm leaving him out of this!” she exclaimed, throwing a hand in his direction. “I’m not stupid, Grace. I know you weren’t at a coffee shop writing tonight. You don’t even have your laptop with you! And then you come home late with a bandage on your forehead that I damn well know wasn’t there the last time I saw you! So what the hell is going on? How’d you get hurt? And one of you better fucking answer me with the damn truth!”

“A low ranking Serpent discovered who I actually am,” you said with a sigh, pulling your last boot off of your foot. “He left a message for me to meet with him tonight in the letterbox. Birdy saw him. I didn’t exactly have a choice to not go considering what he already knew. I didn't want to worry or involve you which is why I said I’d be at the coffee shop.”

Megan immediately sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body freezing. For a moment the only sound was Michael behind you, slowly taking his own boots off. Apparently he wasn’t done reprimanding you for the evening.

“So does that mean you need to leave again? Find somewhere new to hide?” she breathed out, her body still stiff. “Is he telling the entire charter? Is Victor on his way?”

You shook your head, running a tired hand along your forehead, careful to avoid the wounded side of it. Everything was finally beginning to catch up to you from today, your body starting to feel completely exhausted from all the stress and fear. You just wanted to collapse on your bed and maybe–if you were lucky–fall into a dreamless sleep where you could forget about absolutely everything for just a short while.

“I’m not leaving, not just yet,” you assured her, brushing past her and making your way down the hall to the sitting room. “He’s after something else and he’s just trying to threaten me with calling in Victor for now.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel any better?” she asked, following closely on your heels. “What could he possibly want from you?”

You sunk into the cushions of the sofa, your body aching as you did. As your attention shifted towards your sister, you spotted Michael entering the room just over her shoulder. He leant against the doorframe to the sitting room, hanging his head almost shamefully as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Me,” Michael muttered. “He wants me.”

Megan’s brows arched up onto her forehead in surprise, her head turning over her shoulder to focus on Michael curiously. 

“I can’t give ya any details–family business and all,” he explained, his voice quiet. “But he’s after me. It’s my fault he’s after your sister, that he even knows who she is.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you shook your head. “No, that’s not true,” you disagreed. “He’s after me because of my psychotic ex. This has nothing to do with you.”

Michael’s head rose, his sad eyes meeting yours from across the room. The frustration you’d felt towards him a few minutes ago quickly dissipated at the sight of the pain visible on his face.

“But he was the one tailin’ us after I took ya out for coffee, wasn’t he? That’s how he found out ‘bout ya, isn’t it?” Michael pressed. “He was after me and found ya in the process. So it's my fault he knows who ya really are.”

You pulled a face immediately, your mouth opening to counter his argument. But Megan held out her hands, the gesture quieting both of you.

“Let's not turn this into a battle of who's to blame,” she said, turning her focus back on you. “So the problem stands that someone in the nearby charter knows you’re Victor’s ex and that you’re here. What the hell is being done about that? Because I’m guessing you’re not about to give up your boyfriend to the MC.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you corrected her, your cheeks heating as you avoided Michael’s stare. “And yes, something is being figured out. Like I said, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. I’ll handle it, okay? But honestly after tonight, all I want to do is go to sleep. I’m fucking tired and I just…don’t want to think anymore. It’s late.”

“Fine,” Megan relented. “But are you okay?”

“Yes,” you assured her.

Megan’s eyes narrowed at you before she turned, focusing on Michael across the room. She threw a thumb in your direction and you rolled your eyes when she spoke.

“Is she really alright?” she asked him.

“Took a good hit to the head with the butt of a gun,” he told her, pausing when Megan let out a hiss. “But I think she’s alrigh’ despite that. Though I…was plannin’ on offerin’ to stay the night here if ya didn’t mind, Megan. Sleep on the sofa down here just to make sure that Serpent doesn’t show back up in the middle of the night or anythin’.” A sheepish smile crossed his lips as he added quietly, “I’d feel better knowin’ ya weren’t both here alone.”

“You know, I’d probably actually feel better if you stayed here too after finding all this out,” Megan told him. “So it’s fine by me. I can try to find some more comfortable pillows–”

“What’s there is already fine,” he assured her. “I don’t need anythin’ more, really.”

“Okay, well,” Megan began awkwardly, her eyes darting between you and Michael as she took a step back towards the staircase. “I’ll just go get ready for bed now that you’re finally home safe. I’ve got another early shift in the morning tomorrow.”

Michael nodded his head, smiling at her and murmuring a soft ‘goodnight.’ You watched as your sister made her way quietly up the stairs, shooting you a curious last glance over her shoulder before she disappeared from sight. And then it was just you and Michael in the room.

A silence fell over the pair of you as he remained standing over by the sitting room entrance. Your gaze fell to your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap, aware of the weight of the gun in your jacket pocket once again. Most likely in a few days you’d have to use it. And you certainly hoped you could, when the time came for it.

“I think I’m just going to head to bed,” you eventually said, breaking the silence when it started to feel suffocating. 

“Alrigh’,” Michael replied softly.

For the second time this evening you felt your stomach sink to your feet as you rose from the sofa. You were certain you’d somehow gone and messed things up with Michael when you’d lied to him about where you were going earlier and he’d found out. He'd certainly seemed pissed at you for that.

But maybe that’s for the best, you told yourself as you made your way up the stairs. Maybe I shouldn’t get attached. If I need to run again soon, feelings would just make that harder.

Gasping for air, you woke up with a cold sheen of sweat covering your skin. Your eyes flew around the mostly darkened bedroom as you tried to orient yourself while your heart thundered away in your chest. Fear spiking within you at the lingering memory of his voice in your ear, you swore you could feel the cold blade of a knife pressed to your stomach. 

Feeling like the bedsheets themselves were trying to hold you down, you began wildly flailing in an attempt to throw them off of you, swinging your arms and feet as you tried to free yourself. A few tears slipped out of your eyes as you did, your panicked mind still replaying threats on repeat.

It was a few moments before you’d finally untangled yourself from the sheets, scrambling backwards against the headboard and sitting upright. Your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath, the back of your hand running along your sweat-dampened forehead gently.

“Just a nightmare,” you whispered to yourself. “Not real. He’s not here.”

But he’s looking for you. And this time he’s probably going to do more than add another scar if he finds you.

Bottom lip rolling between your teeth, your right hand reached down, sliding the hem of your shirt upwards a little. You lightly brushed your fingertips over the three gashes on your abdomen that had scarred over. A brand to your skin that you’d never be able to remove, permanently marking you as his . A strangled noise slipped out of you and you clamped your teeth down harder, trying to quiet the sound.

“Grace?”

You audibly gasped as your head spun towards the sound of your name, your pulse speeding at the fear of an intruder. But in the faint light filtering in past your curtains, you could make out the sight of Michael standing halfway in the doorway, a look of concern etched across his features.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya,” he whispered. “Just thought I heard somethin’ from downstairs and I figured I’d make sure things were alright’.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, quickly lowering your shirt. “Just had a bad dream but I’m fine.”

The bedroom door swung open just a bit wider and you watched as Michael stepped slowly into the bedroom. The corners of your lips curved downwards as you continued to try to calm your breathing. If he was up here to lecture you again, you certainly weren’t interested in hearing it.

“D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” he offered. 

“No,” you answered simply.

Michael nodded, taking another hesitant step into the bedroom and closing the door partially behind himself as he did. His other hand ran over the back of his neck as he ducked his head. You watched him wordlessly, drawing your legs up towards your chest.

“‘M’sorry ‘bout the way I went off on ya earlier,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that. Ya were scared and tryin’ to do what ya thought was right. But ya…ya scared me, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Your tongue darted out, licking your lips nervously. That was not what you’d expected to hear him say after the way things had played out earlier. 

“If somethin’ had happened to ya–especially because o’ me–I don't think I could forgive myself,” he murmured, shifting back and forth on his feet as he focused on the bedroom floor. 

“I told you already, it wasn't your fault,” you replied.

“Except it is,” he stated firmly, glancing up at you through the darkness. “That Serpent is lookin’ for a way to get to me. To kill me . And unfortunately you're gettin’ dragged into all my shit because of the things I did. And I can't forgive myself for that.” 

You hugged your arms around your knees, guilt flooding you as you pulled them tighter to your chest. You realized that he had probably reacted the way he had tonight because of the accident which had resulted in his ex-wife's passing. Something he didn't know you knew about yet. It made sense then why he was so determined to protect you, and why he refused to let you be the one to take the risk killing the Serpent. He didn’t want your death on his conscience, either. Because it was apparent he'd find a way to blame himself for it no matter what. 

“How about we both agree this mess is a combination of both of our problems?” you suggested quietly. 

“I would, but the difference is that I actually did things to deserve to be in this mess,” Michael told you. “Whereas ya didn't do anythin’ to deserve the fuckin’ shitty situation your ex has put ya in.”

“Okay,” you said, shooting him a sad smile, “I think I agree with what Megan said earlier. Let's not play the blame game. Pointing fingers at ourselves won't change the situation anyway.”

“Mmm,” Michael hummed. “I s'pose ya got a point.”

Another silence fell between the pair of you, though this one was vastly less uncomfortable than the previous one in the sitting room. You chewed your lip nervously as Michael stood beside your bed, his eyes clearly focused on you through the dark. His presence was beginning to soothe you the longer he stayed and you soon found yourself not wanting him to go back downstairs. Especially not after that nightmare. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself wanting to ask for what you really wanted for once. 

“Can I…ask you a favor?” you whispered. 

“Always,” Michael replied immediately. 

Eyes falling down towards the bed, one of your hands dropped down to your side. Nervously your fingers fidgeted with the sheets, twisting them as you tried to find the courage to ask him to stay here with you. Part of you knew it was safer and smarter to stop letting him get closer to you, especially with danger already looming on the horizon. But the other part of you craved the comfort he always somehow managed to bring you, something you hadn't felt in a long time. 

“Could you maybe…stay with me?” you asked, shyly looking back up at him. “Just for tonight?”

“O’course,” he answered. “I'm here whenever ya need me.”

Michael made his way around the foot of the bed, your eyes following his form through the darkness as he did. You saw him pull something out of the waistband at the back of his jeans, realizing a moment later it was the gun he'd had earlier. He set it onto the nightstand before he turned, adjusting the rumpled mess you'd made of the sheets on the bed and pulling them back up before he climbed onto the mattress himself. 

You began to slide back down along the headboard, rolling onto your side towards him and slipping back beneath the sheets. As he settled onto the mattress next to you, he turned onto his side, facing you in return. A bit of moonlight crept in just around the edge of your curtains, a thin ray of it illuminating part of his face in all the blackness. The corners of his lips were curved upwards just the faintest bit.

“Didn't think ya would want me with ya tonight,” Michael murmured.

Your stomach fluttered at his words and the position you'd found yourself in with him. Both of you were barely half a foot apart from each other now, eyes locked on one another. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him and heating you beneath the sheets. Your hand clutched tighter to your pillow as you fought the urge to wrap it around him and pull yourself closer to him instead, desperate for connection.

“You make me feel safe,” you confessed, the words falling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “And less alone. For the first time in a long time.”

Gradually Michael’s hand slipped up out of the sheets, reaching out towards you and gently landing on your cheek. His fingertips lightly brushed away a few strands of hair before they affectionately began to lightly stroke your skin. You could feel your heart beating harder in your chest under his touch, the sound of it loud to your own ears. Your skin was beginning to heat beneath his fingers and your own only curled tighter around your pillowcase.

“Ya do the same for me, pet,” he whispered back.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You hadn't expected him to tell you that. You also hadn't expected it to feel so good to hear him tell you that, either.

Michael shifted on the bed, sliding closer to you as his palm cradled your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered shut the moment you felt his soft lips press a lingering kiss to your forehead. A warm, pleasant sensation felt like it was racing up your spine the longer his mouth remained pressed against your forehead. It was a feeling that felt a lot like safety and acceptance.

Without thinking, your hand released the pillow and darted out, wrapping its way around Michael as your fingers clutched at his back. You drew your body in tight against his, raising your head from the pillow as you did. Michael’s lips faltered along your forehead at the movement, but you quickly caught his lips with yours in his brief surprise.

He didn’t pull away or hesitate. Instead, his own mouth molded itself to yours, his hand sliding its way down your cheek and resting along your neck, pulling you in closer to him to deepen the kiss. He kissed you back with such intensity that your fingers fisted his shirt in your grasp, your mind going blank to everything except how good this moment felt. How good he made you feel.

But unfortunately the kiss ended far sooner than you'd have liked.

Michael pulled away only a fraction from you, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing the tip of yours. You could just make out the little smile on his lips in the dark, the sight almost leaving you as breathless as that kiss had.

“For what it's worth,” he whispered, thumb caressing the line of your jaw tenderly, “I'm glad ya found yourself here in Dublin.”

Your hand released the tight grip on his shirt, sliding its way up from out of the sheets and up towards his face. Your own fingertips gently toyed with the dark hairs of his beard, your eyes watching the smile on his face grow wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. What you wouldn’t give to always see him smile like that. 

“I'm glad I found you,” you whispered back. 

For however long I can have you.

[shadowdaddies]

Queer request 💗 Femmes have my heart - make it as smutty/fluffy as you want 💅🏻

Female Reader is a regular at Rita’s and has been wanting to approach Mor for a while. Reader finally gets the courage and Mor had been feeling the same.

Would not oppose to Feyre catching them or something (don’t wanna out our Queen)

YES MOR LFG ❤️ this is pretty much just fluff, I'm happy to write smut with Mor but this is what came out of the keyboard today. I'm just feeling soft and I want to cuddle with her tbh

It Happened One Night

Mor x f!Reader

Warnings: canon typical homophobia, otherwise this is so sweet

It was a Friday night at Rita’s, and you scanned the crowd for the one face you could count on to be here tonight. You were determined to finally approach Morrigan, the stunning blonde who lit up every room she entered. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw her standing at the bar, but as you approached you noticed her there with another female. Freezing in your tracks, you realized, that wasn’t just any female. Mor was there with your High Lady. 

You panicked as you rushed back to your table, planning to give up for the evening when you looked over your shoulder to see Feyre staring at you with a curious look. She whispered something to Mor, who turned around to look at you. They knew. You’d never felt so embarrassed, and planned to sneak out and leave for the night when you saw Mor moving towards you.

She arrived at your table, tossing her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she flashed you a smile that made your knees weak. Leaning over the table towards you, Mor gave you a perfect view of her ample cleavage pouring out of her tight red dress. You weren’t sure you were still breathing when she introduced herself, offering to buy you a drink. 

The two of you sat and talked for awhile. You were surprised by how much you had in common, which complicated things in your mind. Your crush had developed into real feelings in just one evening. Surely Mor wouldn’t be into you that way. She was one of the leaders of the Night Court, and the most beautiful fae you’d ever seen. Your heart stumbled in your chest as you decided you should leave before you get hurt.

When Mor returned to the bar to chat with Feyre, you left, throwing the doors open as you rushed into the cold winter air to trek home. You didn’t make it far before you felt a warm presence and the sweetest voice ask, “where are you going?” You turned to see Mor holding herself, trying to stay warm. She held out a mug of mulled wine towards you. “I was bringing this to you and saw that you’d left. I’m sorry if I got the wrong impression from you, I was foolish to think there was something more-“ You cut her off with a kiss, drawing back in shock when you realized what you’d done. Did you misinterpret what Mor was saying? Females have been hanged in Prythian for less. 

Before you could pull away, Mor tugged you close, weaving her hands through your hair as she kissed you deeply, pulling away only when you were both gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in Rita’s two years ago,” she whispered. Your eyes watered as you felt accepted for the first time in your long life. A burden lifted as you realized not only did someone else understand you for who you were, but she cared about you in that way. 

Mor grabbed your hand, stroking her thumb across the back of it as she leaned her forehead against yours. “I would love to continue to get to know you, if you would let me.” You kissed her softly in reply, nodding as you led her back to your apartment where you stayed up talking until you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[jellybeansintheabyss]

I think part of it is ignoring what Ryan says about Eddie. How he is heterosexual, and how important it was for Ryan to portray the scene of Buck coming out to Eddie, a heterosexual character and Eddie being supportive. I forget the exact wording but that was the gist of it. It’s fine if you want to see a character as something, but it’s knowing the difference of what’s fanon and what’s canon. at what point does it seem disrespectful towards the actor, who is playing the character as straight, and telling you the character is straight, to say, “well actually, you’re wrong”

This isn’t me saying Ryan doesn’t want buddie, no one knows what he does or doesn’t want (outside of speculation). But I feel like maybe people don’t listen to some things he says because they just don’t want to hear it. So they ignore it, when he says it’s important for him to portray the heterosexual man accepting his friend’s bisexuality, because they don’t like it. I think that’s why some people may get annoyed with it. Ya know.

I hope this didn’t come off as rude! It wasn’t my intention, just trying to give my thoughts on your post.

i appreciate you being civil, i’ve gotten plenty of replies that were not lol.

i’m fairly sure i know what interview you’re talking about and while yeah, that could be a reason towards choosing to view eddie as strictly heterosexual, i just don’t think it’s really fair to say that because of that interview, it’s against ryan guzman’s wishes to view him differently.

when you consider the multiple other interviews of ryan saying that he’s up for whatever the writers give them, i think it’s fair to say maybe he was just talking about how he was choosing to act that scene out, because ultimately he doesn’t know what will happen between the characters.

also, i think a fair comparison to draw to is destiel, one of, if not the most famous slash ships ever. jensen ackles did not like it. at all. for awhile. over time, he’s gotten less annoyed by it, but my point still stands. is it fair to say dean winchester couldn’t possibly be read as bisexual because jensen ackles intended him to be straight when portraying the character?

finally, it’s important to note that there have been interviews saying they intended to write buddie into season 4, but someone at fox told them no. along with that, lou ferrigno jr himself said that buck and tommy’s storyline was initially intended for eddie and tommy, but annelise ceparo (natalia’s actress) did not want to return but edy ganem (marisol’s actress) did, so they gave the storyline to buck instead. neither of those times fell through because ryan guzman did not want to portray the story.

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part XIII: Clemens Point ii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader word count: 10.1k summary: Arthur patches you up and makes good on his promise *wink wink*. Dutch insists you work with the Gray family, which leads you to a job gone wrong. a/n: long time no see. I'm excited to be back and to get this chapter out. love you guys so much and I'm still astounded by how many follow this series. ignore any typos, margo is sleeping hehe. lastly, i write most of this in may, but as for the rest, its been awhile since i wrote arthur so forgiive me if im a little rickety around the edges. warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, minors dni, graphic violence, sexual themes. series masterpost │ masterlist

The sunlight filters through the cracks of your tent, casting the room in orange shadows. It's a surprisingly peaceful morning, and you awaken on your own instead of by a yelling Miss Grimshaw or some other camp ruckus. Your eyes flutter open slowly, landing on Arthur. You stay still so as not to alert him as you watch his form.

He's still dressed in his unbuttoned union suit, sitting in a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee. He faces you, but his face is scrunched up in concentration as he fixates on the journal in his lap. His hand works diligently, wrapped around a piece of charcoal as he details something on the worn pages. You smile, catching his eyes when he glances up to your cuddled up body. 

"Didn't mean to wake ya." Arthur mumbles, folding his journal over his charcoal. It's a rarity that you get to sleep in, and Arthur had wanted to let you rest as long as possible.

"You didn't." You hum, smiling up at him as you prop your head up on your elbow, "Can I see?" You ask. 

Arthur hesitates for only a fraction of a second before standing and sitting down on the bed beside you. It dips under his weight, and you lean into his shoulder as he passes the leather bound journal over to you. 

Your fingers sift through the pages until you find the charcoal, and carefully, you open the little book. A smile tugs at your lips as you run your fingers over the drawing. It takes up two pages, a perfect sketch of you sleeping. Your hair is messy, with little wisps framing your face in an effortlessly beautiful crown. Your lips are plump from sleep as you cling to the thick blankets, you had hoped they were Arthur in your unconscious state. Your eyelashes are thick as your eyes lay closed, your body frozen in time in the little journal. 

"Beautiful." You hum, eyes never leaving the pages. There's a few words written at the bottom of the page, and your eyes flicker to them.

'I reckon I'll be counting my lucky stars until the end of my days.'

"And I'll be countin' mine." You hum, looking up at him. The journal meets your lap as your hand cups his cheek. Arthur's hand covers your own, his warmth encasing you.

"You're too good for me." Arthur says, his. green eyes searching the depths of your own. Even after the time you've spent together, he struggles to comprehend why you've chosen him. 

"I'm not." You counter as Arthur pulls your hand away from his face. He takes your smaller hand in his, looking down at your bruised and bloodied knuckles from when you'd beat the outlaw Anders Anderson. 

"I was supposed to patch these up last night." Arthur raises an eyebrow at you as if it's your fault that you both forgot. You can't help it that you fell asleep, he was just too comfortable.

"They're fine, just a few scratches." You say as Arthur inspects the damage. Bruises blossom along your knuckles in purple and red splotches, and you wince as Arthur gently runs his thumb across them. 

"This'll only take me a minute." He hums, reaching to his satchel to pull out a few items. He brings some cotton balls and a bottle of alcohol out. You watch on as Arthur kneels on the ground before you, pouring some of the alcohol onto the little swab. He puts the alcohol down before taking your hand in his own to examine your knuckles. 

"This is gonna sting like hell." He warns, and you nod, letting him know to continue. 

You groan through clamped teeth when the alcohol soaked cotton reaches the scrapes on your knuckles. It seeps through the cuts, burning you with a stinging blaze as it cleans your wounds. Arthur pulls the cotton away, eyes flickering up to you to make sure it doesn't hurt too bad. 

"I'm okay." You reassure him. Arthur's eyes flicker down to your stomach before he continues cleaning up your hands. He remembers seeing Anders punch you in the gut, and he makes a note to check there too. You get used to the burning sensation when Arthur wipes away the blood from your other hand. He takes his time, working diligently with his eyebrows pulled together in focus. 

When he deems your hands clean, he stands, extending his hand out to you. You take it, standing chest to chest as Arthur's hands silently find the hem of your chemise. You raise your arms as he pulls it over your head and tosses it to the ground. The silence is loud as Arthur runs his fingers between the valley of your breasts until they land on the bruised skin of your stomach. You shudder under his touch, hands sheepishly covering your breasts as he traces the pattern of forming bruises. His touch is so soft that you barely feel it, just a feather light trail along your exposed skin.

"He got you pretty good." Arthur mumbles.

"You got him a lot worse."

Arthur's fingers cause goosebumps to ripple across your skin, and he's not lost on the way your breathing quickens. His hands find purchase on your waist once he's checked you over, and you lean up to whisper in his ear. 

"You broke your promise." You murmur into his ear. Your hands press against his chest, snaking under his union suit. Arthur's lips find your neck as his hands pull you closer to his body. He'd promised to spend the night with you last night, but you were both too tired. It seems like a perfect moment to call the favor in. 

"Did I?" He teases, mumbling against your neck as he lightly nips the skin there. He knows exactly what he owes you. His hand slides up your ribs, thumb teasing your nipple in small circles. The feelings he gives you– god, wiping away your cuts and bruises one moment and sucking on your neck in the next. He fills you with butterflies, he fills you with need. 

"Mhm." You moan as he kisses your pulsepoint. He can feel how your heart quickens under his touch, and he smirks at the realization. 

"My apologies, miss." Arthur grumbles as your hands grip onto his union suit, sliding the cloth down over his shoulders. It hits the floor, wrapped around his ankles before he steps out of the material. 

His hand runs down your hip to your entrance, and he runs his fingers over your folds through your underwear. It's only seconds before his lips meet yours, and his fingers hook under your waistband, pulling the rest of the clothing down. It meets the floor silently as Arthur's lips move against yours, and butterflies rise in your stomach at his touch. You moan into his mouth as he runs his tongue over your bottom lip, gently pulling away with a nip. 

He nudges you back so softly, until the backs of your knees hit the bed with a gentle thud. You glance up to him as he cups your cheek, thumb running over the soft flesh on your cheekbone. 

You love him. Looking up at him, you know it. You choke on emotion as he looks down at you with those sparkling green eyes. There's so much warmth in them, so much softness. You've never been cared for like he cares for you.

You lay back on the bed, extending your hand out for Arthur to take. His warm hand wraps around yours as he meets you on the bed, body lining overtop of you. 

"Do we have a lot of time?" You whisper, hands gripping Arthur's hair as he kisses the trail between your breasts. You arch your back, looking for more of his lips. 

"All the time in the world." He hums against your skin, teasing your nipple with his tongue. It's a new sensation, and you gasp as it sends a ripple of pleasure straight through your core. His hand kneads your other breast before his kisses trail back up to your neck. 

"So perfect," He growls against your skin, gripping your waist tightly between his big hands, "My Star." 

Your heart soars underneath him, and you catch his lips in one last sweet kiss before he pulls back to touch you. A few strands of Arthur's hair fall into his face, his lips are plump from your kisses and his eyes are shining. His muscles tighten beautifully as he adjusts, spreading your knees so gently that your heart skips a beat. You're still new at this, and Arthur plans on talking you through it to make sure you're comfortable. Even without him saying it, you know he will. He always does. 

Arthur's fingers run along your folds, and you buck your hips to speed up his process. You should try to be quick, anyone could come along at any point and find you two, but Arthur can't bring himself to rush. It's been too long since he's had you, and he plans on taking his time. 

You're soaking with need for him as Arthur slips his fingers into you. You moan, and your head tosses back as Arthur curls them slowly, tickling that sweet spot deep in you. Your hand searches for something to grip onto, settling on his less busy hand. You grip it tightly, and he interlocks your fingers together.

"How's this feel?" Arthur asks, glancing up to your face. There's a look of ecstasy there, pure bliss as your features relax and you bite your lip. 

"Good." You hum, keeping your voice quiet to not alert anyone. Arthur chuckles as your hand tightens around his own, and his fingers keep a steady pace as his thumb meets the bud of nerves at your core. 

He leans down to catch your lips, steadying himself on your interlocked hand. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you blind. You’ll never get used to letting yourself have this. His warmth wraps around your body, making you feel safe and loved. His fingers keep their slow pace, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of satisfaction as he holds you tightly underneath him. Your skin blazes with warmth at his touch, muscles tightening as he gives you everything you could have dreamed of. 

“Still okay?” Arthur asks, pulling away from your lips for a second to speak in a low tone. You nod your head, pulling him down to you with your free hand. Your other hand lays interlocked with his beside your head, gripping him tightly in fear that if you let go he’ll disappear. It’s foolish, a bad habit. 

“Yes–!” You gasp, stomach coiling before his hands finally send you over the edge. You squeeze his hand as you moan, coming undone. Arthur quickly kisses you, muffling your moans with his mouth so as not to alert anyone of the display you're making. His lips are gentle against your own, lovingly making yours bruised with kisses. Waves crash over you, stronger than the ocean's as you mewl and moan against Arthur's lips. Your legs tremble, toes curling as you pull away to gasp for breath. Arthur's fingers slip out of you, and his hand finds purchase on the mattress beside your head. With a smile on his lips, Arthur places a kiss to your forehead. 

"I could do this all day." He hums deeply against your hair. There's nothing quite like watching you unfold, and it's a sight Arthur won't ever get enough of. 

"Yes, but we can't." You counter, letting go of his hand to wrap both of yours around the back of his neck, pulling him down to you, "So hurry up. Y’know, it's rude to leave a lady waitin." 

Arthur chuckles, and he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips. 

"Yes ma'am." He chuckles again, always astounded by your tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down to you. Never in your life have you let yourself be so vulnerable with someone, it's a shocking realization. You're not afraid of it anymore, you don't fight it. You'll happily trust fall into this relationship if he's the one catching you– which he always will be.

Arthur's already hard pressed from just watching and hearing you as he lines up with your entrance. You grip his shoulders in anticipation before he slowly slides in the whole way. You gasp, shuddering at the feeling of being so damn full. 

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks as you wince from the stretch of it all. 

"Yes. Please, move." You beg, digging your heels into him. He starts to move, sliding out just to come back in, slow and hard. Your eyes fall closed and you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling out. Anyone could walk past and hear. Hell, even the bed creaking might alert someone. 

Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes locking onto his for a moment as your heart skips a beat. He's so perfect. His arms flex and strain beautifully as he holds himself above you. His green eyes flicker over your body, making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself, drinking your body in all the while. 

His tanned skin is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. You can't help the way you pull him down to you, pressing your lips to his neck. Arthur groans as you kiss the sensitive spot, and again as your lips part, nibbling on his earlobe. 

"You feel so damn good." You whimper as the bed rocks. Arthur grips the small headboard to silence it, and you watch as his muscles flex above your head. He uses the headboard for leverage, thrusting into you harder. You place your wrist over your mouth to silence your moans as he loves you with reckless abandon. 

A slow fluttering starts in your core, spreading out as Arthur's thrusts get harder. He's losing his composure, and you watch as his eyes occasionally squint shut, or his mouth falls open and closes again before he can make any noise. It's a shame, having to be so quiet. 

"You're–" Arthur purses his lips to stop from groaning, "Such a good girl." 

Good girl? It does something to you, ignites a fire under your skin as you grip onto him. 

"Say that again." You mewl, head tossing back. Arthur recounts what he's just said, putting two and two together as your nails scratch at his back and your hips buck to meet his. 

"That's my good girl."  Arthur smirks, happily uncovering this information. You snap, unfolding beneath him completely once his thumb starts to brush against your clit. You try not to think about Arthur's past partners, but you subconsciously thank them for teaching him what he knows because damn– he knows. 

"Oh, Arthur–" You begin.

Arthur's hand lets go of the head board and clamps over your mouth, muffling your noises. His hand is big, covering your entire mouth and forcing you to breathe through your nose. If anything, it only spurs you on further.

"Darlin', you know I love hearin' you say my name, but you gotta be quiet." Arthur shushes, but it's a moot point. Your eyes roll back, legs clamping around Arthur as stars fill your vision and pleasure rolls over you like the lapping shores of Flat Iron Lake. Arthur's hand muffles all the noises that he wishes he could hear while he thinks about how he'll need to get you both a hotel room soon. 

Contrary to what he's saying about keeping you quiet, he begins pounding into you hard. He's close. Watching you finish proves to be his undoing as he fights back groans, letting go of your mouth to replace his hand with his lips. Your tongues collide as your lips slot together, and both of your moans mix as you muffle each other's noises. You come down just as Arthur slips out, shooting his spend on your spread thighs. 

“Christ.” Arthur pants, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You squeeze his hand lightly before he stands from the bed to get you a towel. 

“What a way to start the morning.” You hum, propping your head on your hand. Your eyes run over his naked form, and you smirk as the planes of his back flex.

"You practically jumped me. Weren't my fault." Arthur chuckles, bringing the towel over to clean you up. 

"I did not!" You defend, smacking him lightly. Arthur chuckles, tossing the towel in his little hamper. 

"Whatever you say." Arthur jokes as your jaw falls playfully. You huff, not minding him as you stand up to get ready.

After getting dressed and cleaned up, you and Arthur head out of his tent together. It’s still early, but mostly everyone else is awake, save for Uncle and Reverend. 

“I’ll get you some coffee.” Arthur mumbles, hand on the small of your back before he leaves you to get the percolator from Pearson’s tent. 

“Thank you.” You smile, eyes scanning over camp to see where everyone is. Charles and John sit at the fire, and you make your way over as you place your black hat atop your head. John and Charles laugh over something as you walk towards them, taking a seat on the other side of the fire. 

“Boys.” You greet, digging your boot into the dirt. John has a cigarette between his lips and a cup of coffee in his hand, and Charles is sharpening his hunting knife by the fire. 

“Where you been all morning? We had to listen to Grimshaw’s nagging for the last half hour.” John asks and you blush, looking down at your hands. 

“Just slept in is all.” You lie, perking up as Arthur walks across camp with two steaming cups of joe. 

“There he is.” Charles hums as Arthur sits down beside you on the log. He hands you the metal cup of coffee, and you wrap your hands around the warm mug, cherishing the way its heat sinks into your bones. 

“What you boys been up to since we got down here?” Arthur asks before his lips meet the rim of his mug and he drinks down some of his coffee. You’re distracted from the conversation when a little hand tugs at the back of your shirt. The conversation continues on as you turn around with a smile on your face. 

“Hey Jack.” You greet as the young boy walks around the log to the front. Without warning, he crawls up into your lap, curling up. You place your coffee on the ground, brushing your fingers through the boy’s hair. 

“How you likin’ the new camp?” You ask, looking down at him. You feel bad for Jack. All he's done his whole life is move from place to place, no home besides a bedroll on the ground. His family, the gaggle of outlaws, is falling apart before him, and he has nothing but the clothes on his back to cling to. 

“It’s okay! I like the water. Momma lets me play in the lake, and she’s even teaching me how to swim!” Jack smiles, beaming with pride as he looks at the lake behind you. 

“Is she?” You smile warmly as Jack nods. 

“Yep! It’s so fun, but I think my Papa is afraid of the water… he never comes in.” Jack’s eyebrows furrow as he thinks about John and his fear of water, and you giggle. John’s attention falls on you both then, and his face scrunches up in something similar to offense mixed with humor. 

“Hey, I ain’t afraid of the water.” John huffs, shaking his head. Arthur laughs out loud, joining the conversation as well.

“Sure Y’ain’t! Remember that time back in New Austin you fell into that–” He looks to Charles, “What was it?” 

“Lake Don Julio.” Charles replies with a smirk. 

“Yeah, that's it. You fell into Lake Don Julio n’ everyone had to gather round to scoop your sorry ass out.” Arthur laughs, and Jack giggles in your lap. 

“I–” John tries to come up with some defense, “My horse bucked me, weren’t my fault, and that water was deep.” 

You all laugh as John’s cheeks burn red as the flames of the campfire, and he shakes his head. 

“It’s alright, John. We can have the boy teach you to swim.” Arthur chuckles, gesturing to Jack. Arthur’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight of Jack in your arms. It comes so naturally to you, being around children. They love you. It makes his heart warm and ache just the same. 

“I hate to break up all the fun, but there’s work to be done.” A booming voice calls from across camp. Your eyes flicker up to Dutch, stomping forward through camp with some plan sparkling in his eyes. You sigh, placing Jack’s feet on the ground as he jogs off towards his tent. 

“We was just talkin.” John says, standing from his seat and dusting off his knees. Everyone looks to Dutch as he scans around the fire, taking in the four of you. His hands are on his belt as he eyes you and Arthur. 

“You two." Dutch points at you and then Arthur, "I want you poking around the Gray's today. Go down to the jail and pay our dear friend, the Sheriff, a visit. See what you can find." Dutch orders. You nod, grabbing your cup of coffee from the ground to swig down the last of it. 

"Hosea is already at the Braithwaite’s. He mentioned something about moonshine. I'll have you both workin' with him in no time. We're gonna play these folk like fiddles, hit them from both sides and they'll be none the wiser." Dutch says with his chest puffed. He's proud of his plan no doubt, foolish as it is. 

The names Gray and Braithwaite cause so much ruckus around here, and no one messes with those families for a reason. Leave it to Dutch to poke the bear. You're not so sure about playing both families, but Dutch is the leader, after all. You know when to keep your mouth shut, and now is certainly one of those times. You place your coffee cup into your satchel before standing from the log, stretching your knees as you do. 

"Alright, guess it wouldn't hurt to just talk to the feller. Maybe he'll even have some more work. Star, you up for more outlaw chasin'?" Arthur chuckles. 

"Still recoverin' from the last one, but sure!" You smirk, grabbing your satchel and swinging it over your shoulder. 

"Don't make any noise in town, just get on the Sheriff's good side." Dutch says as he backs away, turning to head back to his tent. 

"Sure." You remark quietly, turning to look at John and Charles, "I'll catch you boys later."

They nod as you wait for Arthur to grab his things, and then head off towards the hitching posts. Athena and Balius are there waiting for you, but surprisingly they aren't saddled like you'd expected them to be. Your eyebrows pull together as you look around for Kieran. 

A smile blossoms on your lips, and you grab Arthur's shirt to pull his attention to where you're looking. 

He turns, watching the scene play out with furrowed brows. 

Kieran and Marybeth sit side by side on the blanket under her canopy, smiling and chatting with each other. There's a book in Marybeth's hands, but it's folded closed over her thumb. Her attention is too focused on Kieran to worry about the silly story. Kieran is nervously rambling, shaking his head, and smiling like a schoolboy.

"You think they're sweet on one another?" You ask, looking up at Arthur. He huffs. 

"Marybeth and that damn O'Driscoll. Who woulda thought?" Arthur exclaims, shaking his head. You’re not sure that he approves of the apparent relationship between the two, but he did save Kieran, so that has to count for something. 

“He ain’t an O’Driscoll– at least not anymore. He’s not so bad, actually.” You hum, watching on for a moment longer before walking towards Athena. She’s near the posts, unhitched, munching on a bale of hay with Balius. The scarred shire horse nudges your mare’s nose affectionately as they share the foliage. It brings a sweet smile to your lips. 

“Look, even these two are courtin’ each other. What the hell’s in the water?” Arthur chuckles, placing his hand under Balius’s jaw to lead the horse to the post. He follows with little instruction, and you whistle for Athena to come to you. You grab her bridle from the post, sliding the bit in her mouth before fastening her chin strap. The mare looks good. You run your hand down her body, checking over her for anything out of sorts. She whinnies lightly, shaking her head as you scratch her croup. 

“Is there a stable in Rhodes?” You ask, leaning down to pick up Athena’s hoof. Her shoes have grown out a little further than you’d like, she's definitely due for a new pair.

Arthur runs a brush along Balius’s body, getting rid of any dirt as he coos to the stallion. He turns at your question, seeing the overgrown hooves that you’re looking at. 

“No, the nearest one is up by the stateline. We’ll get up there soon enough, Balius is fixin’ for a new set of shoes too.” Arthur explains, and you nod. 

You grab your saddle pad and saddle together, and carefully swing them over Athena’s back. You tie her saddle with a perfect texas t before checking all the straps. Arthur is still tacking Balius up, and you seize the moment to feed Athena an oatcake from your satchel. 

“Here girl.” You mumble to the mare, petting her nose as she munches on the treat. 

“You comin’?” Arthur asks, swinging himself into the saddle. You climb onto Athena, sticking your boot into your stirrup. 

“I guess.” You chuckle, thinking about going back to Rhodes. You’re not sure how Dutch thinks you’re going to become Sheriff Leigh Gray’s new best friend, but you’ll try nonetheless.

“Ladies first.” Arthur hums, and you roll your eyes as you pass him on the trail out of camp. Sean is on guard duty, and he makes sure to give you some hell as you pass by. Other than him, the ride goes smooth. No Lemoyne Raiders get in your way, which you’re thankful for. Athena is a bit more sensitive than usual on account of her shoes, but other than that the ride to Rhodes is good. 

You pull your mare up to the hitching post outside of the jail and hop down with a slight wince. You’ve barely recovered from your last wild goose chase, and here you are, back at the jail to pick up more work. Rhodes isn’t too busy on account of the time, which you’re thankful for. Arthur gives Balius a pat for his work before stepping towards you with a smile. 

“Ready?” He asks, hand settling on the small of your back as he leads you up the steps. 

“Sure am.” You chuckle. Arthur grabs the old brass door handle and pulls it open, holding it open for you. You walk through the threshold, squinting as your eyes adjust to the change in light. Leigh Gray, the sheriff, sits in his chair with his boots up on his desk. His hands are occupied with the day’s paper as he glances up to you two. 

“You’re back! Y’know I never did catch your names yesterday.” The sheriff points out, slapping his paper down on the desk. He swings his feet down to the ground, standing up to shake Arthur’s hand. 

Arthur quickly scans the room, finding a collection of posters on the wall. They’re all advertisements, and Arthur hones in on one for ‘Callahan’s Confectionery’. 

“Arthur Callahan,” Arthur introduces his newfound alias all the while shaking the hand of the sheriff, “and the missus.” Arthur introduces you as his wife, and a blush forms across your cheeks. Sheriff Gray tips his hat to you as you hide your hands behind your back to avoid any questions about the lack of a ring. 

“Well, Mr. Callahan, how can I help you on this fine morning?” The Sheriff asks. He seems nervous. Sweat clings to his brow and dark circles line under his eyes. You assume the Anderson boy has been giving him trouble, and there’s also the apparent problem with the Gray’s son and that Braithwaite girl. 

“That's actually what we came to ask you. We’re lookin’ to help out.” Arthur explains, taking a few steps forward. Arthur doesn’t mean to intimidate the man, but the sheriff takes a few steps back anyway. You wonder how he’s managed to remain in office for so long without getting killed or worse. He seems pretty yellow-bellied for the job. 

“You need work? Well I’m glad you came to me. It’s always better to work for a Gray than a stinkin’, degenerate Braithwaite.” 

Arthur’s tongue lines his cheek as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at the goddamn feud tearing these people apart.

“Of course.” Arthur replies. 

“Y’know… there’s this bastard I’ve been meaning to grab. He’s gone out of state, but I want him. He killed my second cousin Gertrude, you see.” The Sheriff begins. His eyes almost glaze over as he gets lost in his story, “She was lookin’ for medicine, but this man– he is a no good fellow. He sells poison as medicine. Y’know, my great grandfather was a doctor? When we was kids he used to–” Sheriff Gray rambles on before Arthur rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and interrupting the annoying man. 

“Listen, mister, no disrespect, but just tell me who he is and where to find him.” Arthur grumbles, irritated with the fool. The Sheriff doesn’t look too hurt by Arthur’s interruption, and you assume his ramblings are frequently cut short. 

“His name is Benedict Allbright. He’s a peculiar looking fella, came from the city after pitching his miracle cure. He's been seen near Valentine, you know of it?” The Sheriff asks, to which you nod your head dejectedly. 

“Yeah, we know it.” You sigh, glancing up at Arthur.

“He’s near the Dakota River, camping out on the cliffs. I need him alive.” Sheriff Gray gives you the details before slumping back into his chair and picking the newspaper back up. You nod, turning to head out the door, but Sheriff Gray turns your attention back to him. 

"Oh! Almost forgot– there's a festival bein' held. Rhodes' 75th anniversary. Here. You're welcome to join, it's supposed to be a good time." The Sheriff says, grabbing a pamphlet from his desk drawer. Your eyebrows pull together as you accept the paper, running your eyes over the festivities. Games, food, candy, and shows, it seems like a good time, so long as the feud settles down enough for the town to get along. 

"Well, thank you. You can count on us bein' there." Arthur hums before tipping his hat. "And Allbright? Well, I reckon we'll have him back to you in no time." 

The Sheriff holds up a hand in a half attempt at a wave as you and Arthur exit the jail. As soon as you're out of earshot, you grip Arthur's arm, forcing him to turn around. 

"'You can count on us bein' there'?  Are you sure goin' to this festival is a good idea?" You ask, holding the pamphlet out to Arthur. He takes the paper, running his tongue over his thumb before flipping the page. 

"It'll get us more information, and hell, it might be fun." Arthur replies, eyes running over the list of vendors. Your eyebrows pull together, and a hand on his bicep pulls his attention back to you. 

"We got an alias to keep up now. The Callahans? We gotta be careful with that, Arthur. And with Hosea playin' the other side like he is? I don't know if havin' a good time in the middle of town is the attention we need right now." You point out, tone hushed to avoid eavesdroppers. Arthur nods his head, eyes flickering up to yours. He sees the worry clouding your eyes, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your cheekbone. 

"C'mon, where's that fire?" Arthur asks and your face falls, "We got this, it's just a festival. We get a little information, and we have a good time. An evenin' away from camp, havin' fun like decent folk do. It'll be good for us."

You lean into his touch, letting out a breath at his reassurance. 

"I'm just so afraid they're gonna find us again…" You admit, and Arthur's smile falters at the sight of your worries. You're talking about the Pinkertons of course. After Valentine, any noise is bad noise. 

"They won't. I won't let 'em hurt you, Star." Arthur mumbles, eyes searching the pain on your face and wishing that they could reassure you. He means every word of his promise. He will not let the Pinkertons lay a damned finger on you.

But it does sound like a good time. A day away, enjoying yourselves like a normal couple might, sharing fine treats and walking down the main street hand in hand. It's a simple pleasure, something an average couple might do, but you and Arthur are certainly not an average couple. 

"Fine, when is it?" You ask, peeking towards the pamphlet in his hands. He unfolds the paper flaps, locating the date in red, bold letters. 

"Next week." He states, tapping his finger against the paper. 

"It's a date. But c'mon, let's go get this bastard first." You say, nudging Arthur towards the horses. They’re waiting patiently, tails swatting away unwanted flies as they take turns drinking from the trough. You walk side by side with Arthur, chuckling at a pair of foxhounds playing in the rust colored dirt. 

“You ever bounty hunted before?” Arthur asks, taking his reins from the hitching post and swinging them over Balius’s neck. 

“No.” You huff. You’ve been on the wrong side of the law for a while now.  It never occurred to you to hunt down other outlaws. It’s also a two or more man job, you’d neve tackle a bounty alone. 

“We can make it there in a day. We misewell stop at the stables on the way too, get everyone new shoes.” Arthur hums. He slips his boot into his stirrup in time with you as you both swing up into the saddle. Athena paws at the ground impatiently until you squeeze her sides to walk down the main road. 

“Do we have everything we need?” You ask. Surely you’ll need something to tie Allbright up with, a lasso or bolas. You’re not sure what else bounty hunting entails, but you feel underprepared. 

“Yeah, I got everythin’ on me. We’ll spend the night up there, ride back in the mornin.” Arthur calls to you, his drawl thick. Being back in the south has made his accent a little stronger, and you smile for it. 

“How exactly does this help us with the Grays?” You ask. Going on a wild goose chase seems odd, especially considering that you’re supposed to be gathering intel on the Grays. Instead,  you’re heading back to Valentine, the town that almost got you all killed a handful of weeks ago.  

“Well, Dutch wants us on their good side, so we’ll do what the sheriff says n’ hope he gives us somethin.”

You bite your tongue. It seems above Arthur’s station to go out running around for Dutch. You’d think that after being his right hand man for twenty years, Dutch could send someone else out on these jobs. 

“You his errand boy now?” You bite. The words slip out, and your eyes fall shut as you cringe, awaiting his snap.  

“Excuse me?” Arthur’s eyes squint as he turns around in his saddle to look at you sternly. 

“Listen, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, but couldn’t he have sent one of the other boys? I mean, shouldn’t you be in camp plannin’ with Dutch?” 

The words cut Arthur deep. He’s not upset with you, he’s upset because you’re right. Micah is probably back from Downes’ Ranch by now, whispering lies into Dutch’s ear. It should be Arthur by Dutch’s side. Arthur locks his jaw,  pushing the thoughts away.

“It ain’t like that, Star. We all gotta do our part.” He counters, still in denial about the whole thing. 

“Hey.” You call softly, trotting Athena up to Balius’s side. You reach over and grab Arthur’s hand, squeezing it encouragingly, “You’re right, we all gotta do our part… I’m sorry.” 

Arthur stops his horse and squeezes your hand back.  

“I’m just glad to be with ya, darlin’. Now c’mon, stable ain’t far.” Arthur whispers, nodding Northwest.  

— — — —

Balius and Athena each get new shoes, a proper grooming, and plenty of provisions for the road. They look incredible, and you tip the stable hand nicely for his work. After their pampering, you hit the road towards Valentine, though you'd rather be headed anywhere else. Arthur takes care to avoid the town, riding on the outskirts to evade any lingering law. 

He leads you in the direction of the cliffs, and the paths get more and more narrow the higher you descend. 

"I don't like this, Arthur. We should leave the horses here." You point out, heart pounding as you look at the water below the cliff's edge. Athena prances nervously, tossing her head and pawing at the ground. 

"Alright, we'll walk the rest. Shouldn't be far." Arthur agrees, dismounting before walking further up the slope.

A little fire comes into view, you can see the smoke rising above the cliff that you’re climbing up. You try not to look down and see the Dakota River below. It splashes and rages forward, waves crashing against rocks and splashing up in crystal-like pebbles of water. You swallow thickly, stomach churning as you follow Arthur. 

“Try not to look down.” Arthur grunts, and you nod. 

“Easier said than done.” You huff, keeping your footsteps calculated. Arthur uses two fingers to signal that Allbright is ahead, and you hunch down. 

You and Arthur see the bounty before he sees you. He's hunched over a small campfire on the rocks, poking at the flames with a stick. His movements cause embers and smoke to waft up to the dark sky in flecks. You focus on the embers to distract yourself from the turmoil below. 

He is an oddly dressed man, clearly from the city. Allbright is adorned in a blue suit with a matching top hat. A small pair of spectacles sit on the bridge of his large nose, giving sight to beady, dark eyes. You step closer to him, looking up at Arthur for instruction.

"Follow my lead." He whispers back to you and you nod. 

Arthur stands up tall then, pushing his shoulders back and you see as a new persona falls over him. You can understand why Hosea is always pushing Arthur to act more, he's a natural. Arthur strides forward until he's just near the edge of Allbright's camp. 

"You Benedict Allbright?" Arthur asks loudly, stepping forward. You follow, staying a step behind and to the side of Arthur.

Allbright's head snaps up in shock and he immediately stands from the fire, backing away from the two of you. He drops his poking stick to the ground, and it catches on fire, burning up against the rock trail. 

"N-no!" Allbright shakes his head. You can see the panic in his eyes, you can hear the tremble in his voice. 

"You look a lot like him." You say plainly, eyeing up and down his suit. The bright colors nearly give you a headache, and you wonder why anyone would spend such an amount of money on such odd clothes, "And we were told he'd be up here." You add. 

Benedict Allbright takes a step back, almost plastering himself against the rock wall. He shakes his head nervously. When you look up at Arthur for a game plan, your eyebrows draw together. He looks… sad, crestfallen even. 

"You see, we were hopin' to buy some medicine from him." Arthur sighs, dejected. His head falls lightly and he grips your hand. 

"My mother in law, she's real sick." Arthur says. 

Damn he's good. 

You copy his downtrodden look, teary eyes flickering up to Allbright in one final plea. 

"We'll pay in gold if you help us, mister." You beg, a faux tear slipping down your cheek. 

Allbright lights up like a damn Christmas tree. A smile forms across his lips as he points his index fingers to the sky.

"If it's for a sick woman, I'd be happy to help!" He chimes. You watch on as he shuffles towards his bedroll, rummaging through a bag there. He pulls out a shimmering, dark green bottle, looking like any other tonic. 

"This is the finest medicine in the state, ma'am. I'm a healer, you know, a medical man!" He smiles, sick and twisted as he hands you the poison. 

You take the glass from him with a smile, but it promptly falls as you drop the bottle and let it shatter all over the ground. A scowl etches onto your face as you nod for Arthur to grab the bastard. 

"It's over, mister." Arthur grumbles, leaning forward and grabbing Albright's revolver from its holster. He tosses the weapon over the cliff ledge, and it falls down into the violent waters. Arthur unholsters his own gun, pointing it at Allbright. The fear of God enters Albright's eyes as he realizes he's been duped. 

"What?!" Allbright hisses, backing away from Arthur. His back is almost on the rock wall, and he glances around for a way to escape. 

"Apparently that stuff you're sellin' is killin' folk. I don't know, ain't my business." Arthur grumbles. He leans forward to grab Allbright's wrist, but the older man jumps away. He skips around the fire until his back is at the cliff's edge. You take a step closer to him. 

"I'm a healer! I've got an aura, I speak to spirits!" Allbright yells, looking around for any escape route or a weapon, "I'm a–"

"a lunatic." You huff, rolling your eyes, "Give it up." 

He backs away, heel dangerously close to the edge. One wrong move and he'll be down in the dangerous waters. Your heart rate picks up as you take another step forward. 

"Careful, Star." Arthur warns, deeply. 

"I'm a scientist, this is a mistake!" Allbright yells just as you reach out to grab onto his coat. It backfires, and he grips tightly onto your hair. You yelp as he pulls you against him. Your back is pulled tightly against Allbright's chest and something cold and sharp presses against your neck. You gasp as it knicks you, realizing he pulled a knife.

"I'll– I'll go over the edge and take her with me!" Allbright stutters and yells. 

"Allbright!!" Arthur roars, stepping forward. the bounty steps back, and you whimper as rocks and gravel fall off the cliff's edge from his boots. Arthur steps back, hands up as his heart races. His eyes are locked onto yours. 

"Let me go!" You hiss, but he presses the knife tighter against your throat. You have to strain your neck back against his chest to avoid the sharp blade. 

"Goddammit, let her go, or I swear to god–" Arthur begins, panic thick in his voice. Allbright chuckles, realizing that he's in the position of power now. 

"We can deal with this like men, leave the lady out of it." Arthur pleads, turning the barrel of his gun up towards the sky. Your nails dig into Albright's arm as you attempt to pull it away from your throat. You gasp, terrified. The thought of going down over the cliff sends your body into a panicked state, and your eyes beg Arthur to find a way out of this. 

"I'm not going with you, bounty hunter!" Allbright hollers. His neck cranes around, looking down at the violent crash of waves below him. Arthur's eyes are wide as he extends a hand out to you. You try to grab it, but Allbright steps back, dragging you with him. 

"I'll take my chances jumping." Allbright states. 

"Arthur!" You yelp, right before Allbright drags you back once more. 

Suddenly the ground is gone from below your feet. You feel yourself falling, and you scream for Arthur once more. You're not sure if you're going to die, you don't have much time to think about it, but you hope it won't be too painful if you do. The rocks below you are almost as threatening as the dark water. Your hands extend toward the sky, gripping and searching for anything to hang onto. Of course, there is nothing. 

"Star!!" You hear Arthur roar from above, and your eyes slip shut in pain. You should've told him, should've said that you love him. 

You hear Allbright splash into the water, and you know that it'll only be seconds until you crash. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for the impact. 

An unimaginable pain courses through your body when you make contact with the water. It's like ice, causing your muscles to seize and contract painfully. The water's intensity causes you to flip and spin. You fight to swim to the top, but the river is carrying you downstream quickly and you're not sure which way is up. Your lungs burn in search of air, and you choke on water as you fight to breach the top. 

It's a fight, but just as your vision begins to fill with white stars from lack of oxygen, you breach the surface. Your arms work to keep you afloat as you gasp and choke on air. There's too much water in your lungs and you can't breathe. Your movements are sluggish and exhausted, but you fight nonetheless. 

The shore passes by quickly as the river carries you downstream. You try to scream for Arthur, but it comes out weak. The ice cold water makes your body rigid, and you struggle to keep yourself afloat. 

"Stay up, keep fightin'!" 

At the sound of Arthur's voice, you perk up. Your eyes scan the shore and lock onto Balius galloping down the rocky trail. 

"I'm comin!" He yells. You try to take his instruction, really you do, but the water is so cold and you feel it pulling you down. You can barely hang on, arms burning from keeping yourself afloat. 

"Grab on!" Arthur yells over the crashing water. Your wet eyelashes flutter open, and you see Arthur's lasso in the water ahead of you. 

"Star, c'mon! You gotta grab on, please!" Arthur pleads. You stick your hand through the loop, and it tightens around your wrist.  Water burns in your lungs as stars fill your vision and everything slowly fades to black. 

— — — — 

A rhythmic thumping pounds in your chest, wracking your entire body. Your eyes flutter open as you wake up, and you turn onto your side, retching up cold, salty water. You gasp for breath, coughing as Arthur's hands pull away from your chest to rub up and down your back. 

"Shit, Star. I thought I lost you." Arthur's voice radiates from beside you, and your wet eyelashes flutter as you look up at him. You're splayed uncomfortably in the grass, and you pull your knees up to your chin as you shiver, gasping for air. 

"Goddammit, I'm so sorry I brought ya up here." Arthur whispers, heart racing. 

"I'm s-so c-cold." You whisper, teeth chattering loudly. Arthur's thumb runs over your cheek as he worriedly looks over your too pale face. Your lips are nearly blue, and wet strands of hair stick to your freezing skin. 

"I know. I'll get you into town, but you gotta get out of these wet clothes lest you freeze on the way." 

Arthur takes your hands, helping you to your feet. Your bones ache from being so cold and overworked, and when you look down you notice the rope burn searing on your left wrist from Arthur pulling you in. It all comes back to you then, and you glance at the crashing waters while Arthur rummages in Balius's saddle bags. 

"Where's Allbright?" You whisper, and Arthur shakes his head. 

"I don't know, n' I don't give a damn. I gotta get you fixed up." Arthur says, bringing you over a pile of clothes. They’re his, but they're all he has to work with. 

"I'll take you into town n' get you a bath. If we stay out here, you'll freeze." Arthur grumbles, placing the clothes on the ground before coming up in front of you. His hands quickly work on the buttons of your shirt, and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands against your frozen skin. You whimper, leaning against him to chase after his warmth. 

"Christ, Star. You're freezin'." 

He sounds worried. He is worried. You shake like a leaf as he pulls your shirt over your arms. The wet clothing hits the ground in a sop as he kneels on one knee to unbutton your jeans. He's not worried about modesty right now, Arthur is too panicked about your health. 

You wiggle your toes in your boots and shudder, realizing that you can barely feel the movements. Teeth clack together loudly as Arthur strips you of your jeans, eyebrows pulled together in concern. 

"I c-can't feel my t-toes." You whimper, worrying that you'll lose them or worse.

"You just hang on, just– I'll get you there. I will." It's a promise more to himself than to you. He pulls his oversized clothes over your trembling body, adding his thick blue coat to your shoulders before scooping you up wedding style. You yelp at the action as he helps you onto Balius's saddle. 

"Be good for me, boy. We gotta ride quick now." Arthur coos to his stallion before mounting up behind you. Your head lulls back against Arthur's chest as his arms wrap around you to grab the reins. At the mention of Balius, your eyes pop open wider and you search around for your mare. 

"Athena…" You whisper, just barely a breath. Arthur whistles sharply, and a whinny rings out alongside the sound of hooves. You relax at her call, knowing she'll follow Balius.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Arthur pushes Balius into a gallop. Arthur doesn't like it one bit, knowing that your best chance is to keep your eyes open. 

"Don't go fallin' asleep on me now. We'll be there soon." Arthur attempts a smile for your sake, but the worry in his voice is thick. 

You fight against every instinct to keep your eyes open. It would be so much easier to give in and let them fall shut. For Arthur's sake, you keep trying. 

"Look for Allbright…" You exhale quietly, "He c-could be on the shore." 

Arthur isn't surprised by your suggestion. Of course you haven't given up on the bounty. For you, he scans the shore, but it's your eyes that eventually lock on to the blue suited man. He's washed up on the shore, coughing and sputtering. 

"Goddamn you, bounty hunters!" Allbright yells at the sight of Arthur and you riding forward. Arthur's attention peaks to Allbright then, and a growl rumbles in his chest. 

"Get the bastard." You whisper, too weak to let out the hiss you want to. Arthur makes sure you're good and steady in the saddle before he dismounts. His hands rest on your thigh as he looks up to you. 

"Y'okay to sit without me? We can leave him here and get you to a–" Arthur begins before you interject. 

"I'm okay, just get him n' put him on Athena."

At your words, Arthur obliges, though he thinks it to be a damn stupid idea. He flips his gun out of his holster and swings it down over Allbright's head. The bastard is knocked out cold. His many layers and heavier stature seemed to have protected him mostly from the freezing water. Arthur doesn't give a damn about the man, only you. He whistles for Athena to step a little closer and hoists the bounty over her back behind the saddle. 

"Is Allbright gonna be okay?" You whisper, gripping onto Arthur tightly as he quickly climbs into Balius's saddle. 

"I ain't worried 'bout him." Arthur replies as he smacks the reins down over Balius's neck. He rides fast, galloping over the hills as fast as Balius can carry you both in the night. Your hands grow colder, stiffening around Arthur's jacket and making it harder to grip onto to. He notices this, of course, and his heart beats quicker. Your eyelids are heavy, the overwhelming, hardening cold creeping up your spine and down your bones. Everything stiffens and hurts, making the ride to Valentine a painful one. You yelp, wincing, and Arthur's arm tightens around you 

"Oh, baby, just hang on. We're almost there." Arthur whispers, despair thick in his voice. 

Arthur gets you there as quickly as he can manage, apologizing to you and Balius the whole way. You're both glad it's after dark once you arrive in town, as you still have a mighty price on your heads after the fiasco with Cornwall. Arthur ducks his head, keeping his eyes under his hat as he trots towards the hotel. Athena is right behind you both, still carrying Allbright. 

"How you feelin', darlin'?" Arthur whispers, pulling Balius up to the hitching post in front of the All Saints Hotel. You groan in response. The cold has seeped into your bones, tightening your muscles uncomfortably. Your muscles twitch and cramp under your frozen skin, and your toes and fingers are numb. 

"Tired." You admit, just over a whisper. Your eyes have fallen shut and you're leaning fully against Arthur's back at this point. You can hear his heart beating a few paces too fast with worry. He turns in the saddle and places a hand on your thigh to steady you before sliding down from his stallion. He hitches both horses, and turns to you. 

"C'mere." He calls up to you, hands up stretched to grab your waist. Arthur pulls you into his arms wedding style. You wince at every jolt as he carries you up the few stairs towards the hotel. You get a glance over Arthur's shoulder and see Allbright, still heaved over Athena's rump. Your eyebrows furrow as you look up at Arthur. 

"What about…" You take a deep breath, struggling to keep yourself awake, "Allbright?" 

Arthur readjusts you in his arms, turning around to push the door open with his back. 

"He ain't wakin' up anytime soon. I'll deal with him once I get you taken care of." Arthur replies, stepping backwards through the threshold before turning to the usual clerk. The man's eyes go wide as he takes in your state. 

"You got a bath drawn up?" Arthur asks, walking towards the hallway where the bathhouse is. He doesn't stop, carrying you down the hall as the clerk worriedly hollers 'Yes!' from behind you. 

Arthur pushes the door open with his back again, carrying you into the bathhouse. The bath is filled with steaming water, and you practically whimper at the sight of warmth. Arthur carefully places you on your feet, steadying you for a second with his hands on your shoulders. He eyes you up and down, making sure you're steady. 

"Y'okay to stand?" He asks as you sway slightly. You nod, and he steps away for a moment to grab a washcloth and a bar of soap from the little wooden table by the door. He places both on the small wooden slat overtop the bath as you attempt to pull Arthur's oversized clothes off of your body. Your numb fingers pull at the buttons, but they're too frozen to properly grasp the little articles. 

Arthur turns back to you, and in two long strides, he's in front of you again, brushing your hands away.  

"Let me." He murmurs, eyes downcast as he focuses on each button. He rids you of the shirt quickly, noticing the way your skin feels like ice. It only encourages his worry, and he works faster to unclothe you. 

Once you're bare before him, Arthur's hands find purchase on the small of your back and your arm, helping to steady you as you step into the tub. You grimace when your toe hits the water. The cold state of your skin makes the hot water feel boiling, it's downright painful. 

"I know, darlin', but it's the fastest way to warm you up." Arthur says, noticing your hesitation. You nod, stepping one leg into the hot water. It's painful, but bearable. Arthur lets you grip onto him as you lower yourself into the bath, groaning at the fiery sensation that ripples across your skin. 

"There you go." He whispers as you finally sit down fully. Your teeth chatter, and you pull your knees up to your chest in the sudsy water. Now it's just a waiting game. 

Arthur sits on the ground by your side, hand resting over yours on the lip of the tub. He watches you closely, taking note of your breathing and shivering. His thumb runs over your knuckles and you smile for it, but it's brief. You're still shivering, and goosebumps prick your skin all over. It's nothing short of miserable, and while the warm water has helped, you're too far gone for it to fully bring your temperature back to normal. 

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when you glance over,Arthur is pulling his jeans down over his legs.

"Arthur…?" You ask, brow furrowing lightly. 

"I can't just sit and do nothin' no more. It's killin' me seein' you like this." Arthur explains, "Scooch forward for me, sweetheart."

You grip the sides of the metal tub, pulling yourself forward, just enough for Arthur to slide into the bath behind you. The mass of his body entering the tub causes water to spill out over the edges, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll slip the working ladies a few extra bucks for the mess. A large forearm wraps around your middle, and Arthur pulls your back flush against his chest in the water. His legs line yours, bodies fitting together like perfect pieces of a puzzle. 

“Better?” Arthur whispers, eyes worried as he splashes water over your shoulders with your hands. Guilt is eating him alive– Should he have let you come along? Did he get you here fast enough? 

You nod, easing his worries some. After a few moments, his body heat begins to work, melting the ice that clings to your frozen skin.  Your shivers reduce to slight chills,  and your lips turn from a sickening shade of blue back to that familiar pink.

“Y’know,  if you wanted to see me naked again, you coulda just asked,” You shiver, “Didn’t need to have Allbright throw me in the river.” You smirk, wit never leaving you, not even in dire situations.

“I’ll keep that in mind, darlin.” Arthur whispers, resting his chin atop your head, “You just warm up now, you hear?” His hands run up and down your arms as you nod, leaning fully back against him. His chest radiates a warmth that the water never could, and you groan as your body temperature begins to raise. 

“You think Allbright’s okay out there?” You whisper,  remembering that he’s currently strapped to Balius’s croup. Arthur chuckles from behind you. 

“Hope not– the bastard can rot for all I care.” Arthur huffs. 

“Arthur.” You chastise lightly, hand intertwining with his under the murky water. The chuckle in his throat dies down, allowing the air to become thick with unsaid words. 

“Almost lost ya…”  Arthur whispers. His eyes are far away, there's a lump in his throat.  

You almost died.  

“I’m okay, Arthur.” You reassure, squeezing his hand for good measure. He brings your intertwined hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He holds the kiss for a moment longer than he needs to. 

“Stay that way.” 

It’s a small plea, a few words, but a big admission. You’ve snuck your way into his heart, and he’ll be damned if the universe tries to pull you away now. He’ll do anything to keep you safe– a facet of information that’s beginning to haunt him. 

What will it take–?

What does that entail? 

It's something he’s been meaning to bring up for awhile. You’ve both had more near death experiences than any two people ever should.

Arthur presses a kiss to your wet hair,  humming lightly as he thinks over what the future may hold. He’ll bring it up. But first, you just need to rest.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt @myhomethesea @onedaymyhappinesswillcome

[dyushas]

I return two months later with another people standing image but this time it's Younger Character Designs for the Wayfinder Trio, because I don't think they should look exactly the same for four years straight of their adolescence. So this is how I imagine them when Ven had only just arrived in the Land of Departure

Thought-process notes under the cut (mild spoilers ig):

Terra:

-I think Terra is a creature of habit and has been dressing mostly the same since at least puberty, especially since his style is the most like Eraqus' (in my opinion) and I think most people would copy their parents less as they get closer to adulthood instead of more, but what do I know? Idk what I'm even talking about half the time. It's ultimately vibes, I just think that's his brand of autism. But I had to do it at least a little differently to justify the drawing

-Obviously he is like four years younger or something here so he's not as good at things yet or he would've just taken the Mark of Mastery then, so he's got a wrist brace to show he has fucked up his wrist. To show he's still not good at things. I am very intelligent

-I didn't want to draw the full arm piece but I pretend it's because he hasn't worked his way up to handling that much extra weight on one side yet

-I think the red shirt and the patterns look nice so I also did that

-Aqua cut his hair and she isn't that good at it

-I think he's meant to have brown eyes

Aqua:

-She's got so many flowy bits in her canon outfit and I think it probably took her awhile to achieve the kind of control needed for those to not just be a hazard, so at this point she's a younger teen and she isn't there yet, but she can still afford to add a bit of flair

-I was looking at ballet warm-up clothes like those trash bag shorts cause she's got this dancer thing going on

-She and Terra have the same style of shirt because I thought it would be cute and emphasize their closeness as well as the fact that Ven is somewhat of an outsider here at this point

-She has a knee thing. She hurt her knee. She probably fell trying to figure out that fuckass twirl she does sometimes or something

-She cut her own hair but had Terra help with the back. Mistakes were made

-Terra's nails are painted, too, I just drew him with the wrong hand position to show it. The two of them have been the only other kids around for a good while so they hang out when they're supposed to be asleep sometimes to study their keyblade stuff and then get distracted with something silly and joke back and forth, and they paint each other's nails and share clothes sometimes, although this is getting harder cause they're less and less the same size. And then the next day, Eraqus has to tell them off because Aqua is mad Terra's hogging the bathroom and now they're at each other's throats. Just the way it is

Ventus:

-I can write off everyone looking the same in the flashbacks in BBS cause it was a PSP game and they'd already made a lot of new character models so like. I can think "it was just a practicality thing, they probably didn't actually look the same back then" but Ventus also has the same outfit in UX and I pretend I do not see it. There's no way. He needs something else, his skin is sticking to his clothes. It's just not right, it's not ethical, he's only a boy

-I let him keep the waistcoat though cause it feels SO UX era, everyone in that damn game has a little waistcoat and then no one (?) in the console games does. So my thought process is that this one thing is for SURE from tha past and he just keeps wearing it. He's a little vintage

-He has shorts because ummm :P

-Sora had shorts both as a little baby in BBS and a larger baby in KH1, and then as he's been depicted as less kiddish and more teenaged they have him in those cropped pants now. So it's a Sora parallel. Shorts are just the little boys garment

-"But what if his legs get cold?" Well clearly I thought of that

-He has no armor bits because at this point in time he's just been through a lot of trauma and has only just woken up from a mild coma (for him), so he's all kinds of unwell and I don't think he's really doing any proper training yet. Eraqus already kind of babied him in the main story, so he was probably truly swaddled back then. He's dressed for COMFORT

-This meant he also needed different shoes so I drew some. They're not very remarkable

-I gave him a little jacket because I tried drawing him just without one and I didn't like it, he didn't look enough like he spends his days skulking around and looking sad and not getting to hit things with his keyblade, so I gave him something haori-adjacent like it's maybe something Eraqus had lying around and let him wear like how my mom starts putting her jackets on me when she thinks I'm acting sick. But it has black and white checks on the sleeves because I had to put them SOMEWHERE or else it wouldn't be right and every other option I could think of sounded ugly

-I CAN'T EXPLAIN THE LEGWARMERS, I just wanted him to have a unique silhouette that makes him look like he's been sitting the fuck around

-He just has the same hair as he had in UX, which is his original hair but shorter

That's it unless I forgot something in which case you can ask and I may or may not have an answer.

I might also draw Vanitas in this time period even though I'd just give him the same outfit he always has since it's a magic outfit or whatever, but like for the sake of imagining him Small. Vote now on your phones if I should or not so I can disregard it and do whatever I feel like anyway

[falmerbrook]

WIP Whenever thing

(unfinished friday maybe?)

I was tagged by @youthroad (TY so much!!!)

Tagging (idk if any of you have been tagged already, but either way don't feel like you have to!): @apollinariafh, @snowy-weather, @angiemaniac

I've had these Vivec and Nerevar moments sitting on a canvas for awhile, I just haven't gotten to finishing them. There's a bunch of other rougher sketches too, but those aren't decipherable enough to post (I just like these two fellas a lot!)

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Also, I don't post fic much, but I went on a bit of a spree and started a few small ones yesterday, so I thought it might be fun to share one of those too. Miraak and LDB fight:

Miraak was supposed to be fighting for his life—his freedom—but the thrill of battle had gotten to his head. Every fireball that whiffed by his head, every shout that was countered by an equally powerful cry, and every soul of a dragon he felled that surged into his own soul energized him in ways he hadn’t been energized in millennia. Hell, in ways he hadn’t been energized ever. He’d fought hundreds of battles over his mortal life, many against his fellow priests with a perfect mastery of the Thu’um, but none had ever felt like a true equal. A challenge, sure, but never someone who could match Miraak in his understanding of the Voice. They had treated it as a simple language, a skill to practice, a tool to use for their gain, but for Miraak it was a fundamental part of his world. It shaped him and everything around him. Face to face, spell to spell, with another Dragonborn was different. While her skills were obviously less refined, her use of the Thu’um held a natural, instinctual punch. She wasn’t shouting out of strategy, but out of frustration, arguing with Miraak in the way only a Dov could. Her sharp eyes dug into his with the same hatred that he looked at her, but the smirk on her face as she paused and steeled herself for his next move betrayed she was equally as exhilarated as him. While he had the experience over her to pummel her with his Thu’um, he couldn’t help but respect her as an equal.

He never wanted the fight to end, but he knew he would eventually have to draw it to a close and slay the young Dovahkiin. The thought of losing the opportunity to keep around someone who mirrored himself, even as a rival, sent a sour pang up Miraak’s chest, but the threat of losing his millennia of planning and his freedom was too great. He had grown up the only Dragonborn, and he could continue to live that way.

For now, though, he was in control. Her lack of experience reflected in the way she overexerted herself too quickly while he had been largely holding back. He could let this dance play out for a while longer. Her upper hand was in her magic, a skill Miraak had admittedly practiced little in during his imprisonment in Apocrypha, but while powerful, she was sloppy, and was already starting to slip up and fail her casting. He, however, was as strong as he’d ever felt in Apocrypha.