#i remember him as the first horse i rode when i got there as a little 9 year old lol

[saturnvs]

checking in on the riding school i used to ride at always feels strange. found out that one of my favourite horses there passed last week :(

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.  

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.  

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.  

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow.  I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

[maluuustrawberry]

Red like fire...{Part 1}

(Frollo X Edith X Phoebus)

Warnings: Some prejudiced speech, use of the word "Gypsies" (But only in Frollo's speeches since we know what kind of character he is.) Age gap, Frollo being Frollo.

Synopsis: Frollo needed a new captain to help him with the problems with the romani, but he didn't imagine that the captain would be a woman, causing many disagreements between the two of them since the arrival of the captain.

A/N: I swear I thought of this story when I was taking a shower, Lol. I decided to post this while part two of "Undesirable encounter" yet being made. And I was also surprised that there wasn't any Phoebus fic, so I thought I'd do one. This time I won't use "Y/n" I thought it would be better to create a character, but you can imagine yourself in her place and I hope you like her. Enjoy!!

Love and lust. The feelings that show the true nature of man, even man who calls himself "holy" and "righteous". These feelings drive us to commit so many crazy things just for attention, a look or even a touch. Especially when that feeling comes from someone who has repressed it for so long, hiding their true desires and monstrosities for fear of experiencing sin.

Frollo, the judge, needed help dealing with the Romanis who were entering Paris. He suspected that there was some kind of "nest" in which they were hiding and that they were spreading out from this hiding place. To help him with this task, the judge decided to call in a captain of the royal guard who was in a nearby town and who was free of missions at the moment. Luckily, he found someone, but he had no idea that the captain would actually be a woman...

Her name was Edith Chapelle, and she was the first woman to become captain. When she received the letter from the Judge of Paris, she immediately packed her things and rode her gray horse, Hermes, into town. Of course, it wasn't very common in the 15th century for a woman to hold such an important position; she was forced to deal with a lot of nasty comments and nicknames and, of course, being called a 'witch', but she managed to cope very well.

She began her career as a captain when her father, a former captain, was called up for a war, but was ill and had no male son to replace him, so Edith took his place. The impression was horrible at first, but, being clever, she gradually gained the respect of the men and put them in their place.

Unfortunately, only her surname remained on the list, which often confused the men into thinking that the captain was a man because she bore her father's surname. And as soon as she arrived, it was always a break in expectations for everyone, along with some people's thoughts about her. For Edith, it was no different with that judge.

After riding for a long time until she arrived in Paris, she began to pass through the city, a little lost and, of course, receiving looks of strangeness and disgust. Even with that, she could tolerate it. “Is it possible that, in such a big city, no one has ever seen a woman wearing pants and armor?” A small laugh burst from her lips at the thought.

She was looking for the Palace of Justice and tried to look at the map, but the city had changed a lot and the map would be of no use at the moment.

"Come on, it shouldn't be so hard to find," she thought to herself as she led the horse through the city streets and along La Cité, near Notre-Dame. The woman gazed in awe at the great cathedral, it was still as beautiful as the last time she had seen it, and a small smile appeared on her face as she remembered the good times she had had in this city, especially at Notre-Dame. She let her thoughts take her away and suddenly her horse grumbled and tapped its legs impatiently on the ground:

“Calm down, Hermes.” The redhead tried to calm her animal by patting the side of its neck. “I guarantee that when we arrive, you'll have your carrots. We just need some information...”

The woman commented as she looked around and got off her horse, looking for someone to ask for information. It was a bit difficult with the Parisians passing by and ignoring the visitor, if not, they just gave uncomfortable looks or the mothers whispered in an unobtrusive way to the little girls, who stared curiously at the woman. “Don't look, child, that's disgraceful. Such a poorly disciplined woman.”

The captain noticed a colorful cart near the cathedral, which attracted the attention of some children, who were enchanted by the music that a man in the cart sang while using his puppets to tell a story. Perhaps he was someone who empathized with children and could help her.

She walked over to the cart while carrying her horse on a lead, and the man soon stopped the story. The children also looked at the girl and the approaching horse:

“Good morning.” She greeted everyone with a small smile. “I hope I'm not in the way.”

“Not at all, miss.” The man spoke, being friendly and relaxed. The woman could tell he was a Romani from his different skin color and the ring hanging from his ear. “My stories are for all audiences.”

“Oh no, no, I just came to ask for information. I'm new in city.” She explained, not noticing the children stroking her horse, and what luck that Hermes was a very peaceful animal and liked children. “Can you tell me where the Palace of Justice is?”

“It's not far from here. Unfortunately, I can't take you there, but just go straight up that street and turn right, you'll get there easily, there's no mistake.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” The girl thanked him, noticing a hat with some coins on the counter of the Roma's cart, and took some out of her pocket and put them there. “I hope this helps.”

“Thank you, miss, won't you stay for a story?”

“I appreciate that, but I have to get to the palace, I should have been there hours ago.” She joked. “Maybe another time?”

“I understand, dear, see you later.”

She said goodbye to the Romani and pulled Hermes' leash, taking him away from the children and following the path to the palace. The captain decided to walk through the streets this time, to stretch her legs a bit and to avoid attracting so much attention on her horse.

Following the Roma's instructions, she arrived at the place and was in front of the palace. A shiver ran through her body as nervousness and anxiety took over. The place was huge, and what caught the woman's attention most were the tall towers of the palace; they weren't as tall as those of the cathedral, but they seemed to give a great view of the city. The redhead took a deep breath and walked up to the palace. There were two guards at the entrance, next to the large doors:

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She spoke and the men looked her up and down with contempt and doubt. She was a little taller than the men and that was enough to bruise their egos a little, after all, the woman was 1.74 tall. “I came at the behest of Judge Claude Frollo.”

The guards looked at each other, holding back their laughter, and one of them asked mockingly:

“And what would the judge want with a woman?” When the guard said this, this time the redhead took on a serious tone with a little anger in her voice, and then spoke.

“Summon her as the new captain of the guard, perhaps?”

She took the judge's letter out of her bag and unfolded it, showing it to the guards. They read it and were stunned, they had to read it more than once to make sure they understood it correctly and that it wasn't a forgery, but they knew very well that it was the judge's handwriting and his own seal on the letter. One of the guards cleared his throat and spoke:

“H-He's in the main hall, ma'am. Do we have permission to put your horse in the stable?”

“I'd be grateful if you would.” The small smile returned to her face and she handed Hermes' lead to one of the men.

The guard opened the palace gate and the captain entered. The door was closed behind her and she looked around, analyzing the place. The main hall was even larger inside, and soon she heard voices in the next room, the judgment chamber, and followed the voice. It was two men, but one of them had the most authoritative, deep voice that would give anyone goosebumps.

When she arrived at the judgment hall, she saw a tall, old man in the robes of a judge talking to the guard, but the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the captain. Nervousness hit her hard when she saw all the attention on her and the judge's deep judgmental gaze, seeming to analyze every detail of her soul, but she maintained her posture and spoke:

“Good morning, gentlemen, excuse me. Mr. Judge Claude Frollo?” She asked and the man frowned slightly.

“Yes...” He answered a little uncertainly and put his hands together. “And you are...?”

“Captain Edith Chapelle, sir.” She quickly introduced herself, bowing slightly and the judge's eyes widened slightly, not believing he had hired a woman. “Reporting for duty as ordered.”

“... Is this a joke?” It was the only thing that came out of the judge's mouth after so much shock and disappointment. “I didn't hire a woman to take care of the job.”

“Well, it's in the letter you sent me, Your Honor.” She handed him the letter and the older man took it and looked at it as she spoke. “I know that my military record only contains my surname, but...”

“Go away.” He spoke and she frowned, not believing it.

“Sorry?...”

“There's been a mistake.” He handed her the letter, his expression hard, serious and with hatred in his eyes. “I didn't hire a woman for the job and you should have this information on your military record.”

“Sir, I've come all this way...” She tried to explain herself, but he quickly interrupted her.

“If you knew how to get here, then you know very well how to get home.” The judge spoke with contempt and turned away as he spoke. “A woman, being a captain? You don't seem to know your real role in society and you're playing at being a soldier.”

“I know my role very well, Your Honor.” She spoke as she walked up to him, who stopped and stared at her with contempt, that look would make anyone shut up, but she insisted. Stubborn as she was.

“I can punish you if you continue with this stubbornness, Miss Chapelle.” He spoke, but she continued.

“Punish me for what? For being a woman?”

“Look how you talk to the Judge of Paris, woman...” The guard butted in and the redhead immediately cut him off with an authoritative and serious tone.

“I didn't ask you to talk! Put yourself in your place before meddling in a matter that hasn't even been mentioned!”

That tone made the guard quickly shut up and walk away from the two of them with his fists clenched, which shocked Frollo, he had never seen a woman with so much control and even more so insistent. The guard left them alone and she continued, it was amazing that she wasn't afraid of the punishment that would follow, as if she had a great passion for her work:

“I'm doing my duty, Your Honor. And my role is to protect the cities and justice, as I was trained to do.”

“Put yourself in your position as a woman...” The older man approached, and his expression, along with his gaze, was capable of intimidating anyone, including the captain. But she stood her ground and didn't back down. “You should be at home looking after your husband and children. In fact, I doubt that you have a husband, and if you did, he would certainly be ashamed.”

These words would surely make anyone give up, it wouldn't be worth it, but Edith continued, despite feeling upset:

“Even though you don't know my gender, you've seen my work and my achievements as a captain in my military record, and I think that's why you summoned me, isn't it? So what difference will it make, knowing that I'm now a woman?”

Claude Frollo remained silent, absorbing everything the woman said and obviously he had no more arguments for it. To his disappointment, she was right, and anyway if he were to call another captain it would take longer than necessary and he needed to do his duty as a judge. From start to finish, she showed a mature, responsible and stubborn demeanor, and she seemed to have a way with words and a certain authority:

“You've shown yourself to have an extremely irritating but endearing stubbornness and you have good posture. I hope I'm not mistaken about that, Captain.” Frollo said the word "captain" with a certain disdain, but Edith ignored it and looked hopefully at him, her hands trembling with anxiety. “I'll give you a chance, I won't tolerate any mistakes and if you commit any disobedience... don't want to imagine what comes next...” A small smile came to the judge's face and it caused the captain to shiver, it was a wicked smile that caused discomfort.

The short-haired redhead nodded and he turned away from her, starting to climb the steps to the upper room of the palace, she soon realized that she should follow him and so she did. Frollo gave Edith this chance, he thought it was ridiculous for a woman to think she could do the captain's job better than any man, he was sure she wouldn't last two weeks, but he couldn't deny that he was curious to see how far she would go, it would be satisfying for a man like him to see her so weakened and show that he was right all this time.

They reached the top floor and walked out onto the open balcony of the palace, and soon he began:

“I hope you know what you're doing, Captain. I must say that you've come to Paris at a dangerous time, and you'll need a firm hand to deal with so many pagans. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Dealing with pagans? What do you mean?” She asked and he gave a small smile.

“Gypsies, Captain. Gypsies live outside the normal order and are always breaking the law, stealing, taking children from their mothers and defiling our Christian city with their pagan ways. And they have to be stopped.” Frollo explained as he looked out over the city.

“Wait a minute, are you telling me I've been summoned from the war to arrest Romanis?” She asked incredulously, thinking he was joking, but at the judge's slight glance, she recovered. “I mean... it's just that I've never received a mission like this before...”

“Everything has a first time, Captain, and I'm playing my part as a judge in cleansing the city of evil.” Edith found the way he spoke strange, did this man think he was a God or something? Always feeling superior to everyone else? “Come with me...”

She soon obeyed him, walking with him through the palace of justice and heading for what seemed to be his office. It was a very well organized room, with several books on the shelf, a desk full of papers and a map of the city hanging on the wall of the room. The judge continued as he closed the door behind the captain:

“For twenty years I've been... looking after the gypsies.” He spoke as he walked to his desk. “One by one, yet with my success they seem to have sprouted. I believe they have some refuge, a 'nest', so to speak.”

Frollo sat down at his table, but the woman remained standing as she listened to the explanation, the judge gave a small smile as he noticed that she was just waiting for his order to sit down, it seems that she had been educated very well as a captain and recognized who her leader was, she had passed his little "test":

“Sit down, Captain.” At his command, with a small smile on his face, the redhead obeyed and sat down. Frollo continued: “Moving on, I need you to find this gypsy hideout and capture any you find wandering around the city.”

“If I may, sir. What should we do if we find the hideout?”

Frollo continued with that wicked smile, leaned his elbows on the table and put his hands together. Edith watched his movements and soon realized what he meant:

“Sir, I wasn't trained to kill innocent people.”

“But you were trained to take orders...” That smile wouldn't leave Frollo's face, with this information he knew she would give up, or at least he thought so. “And 'innocents'? Do you think that pagan race is innocent?”

“Just because one Romani has committed crimes, doesn't mean that everyone should be punished for it.”

“Don't you see that it's in their blood to be sinners, my dear?” He asked calmly.

“Yes, just as it's in the blood of every human being. If you do this, you'll be breaking a law, you'll be causing genocide, and from what I read in the law you should only kill if someone commits a crime and you have proof of the crime committed. You don't want to lose your job, do you?”

This woman was dangerously clever and had a sharp tongue. The judge's expression became serious again and his right hand clenched tightly into a fist, but in a discreet way, as if he were controlling his desire to break that sharp woman's neck, he certainly underestimated her quick thinking and tough mind. Then he had a different idea of manipulating her:

“You're a clever woman, Captain, I have to confess.” He commented as he analyzed the papers in an attempt to disguise himself. “And you've given me an idea, I think it's best just to arrest all the gypsies and when it comes time for the trial I'll draw the conclusions as to whether they deserve the death penalty or not. Since you care so much about these gypsy scum.”

“I care about justice, and about our work.”

“How thoughtful of you.” He spoke sarcastically.

“And what will happen to those who don't get the death penalty?“

“They'll be free, simple.”

That was very strange. Edith was about to retort, but kept quiet. She had already said too much, and at least he hadn't forced her to bathe in the blood of innocents. Then she returned to the subject of the mission:

“Do you have any suspicions about where the safe house is? If you don't mind, I'll need a new map of the city. Mine is old and Paris has changed a lot since then.”

“So far we've had no leads, Captain. And as for the map, I'll arrange it. You have full control of my men and you'll have to put them in line. Any more questions about the service?”

“Is there anything important you want to tell me?” As she asked this, he shifted in his chair and leaned his body slightly on the table, clasping his hands together.

“I'm only going to tell you one thing; remember why I summoned you... you must not show any compassion to those pagans. And I'm going to demand at least some information about the mission when the day is over.”

“I'll keep you informed as soon as possible about the hideout, sir.”

“Very well, you're cleared. Your service begins tomorrow and I expect good results.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edith nodded and got up from her chair, the judge's gaze on her at all times as she made her way to the office exit. And now he was analyzing the woman, noticing her height and physique. She definitely didn't have a strong body suited to fighting. Her arms, even hidden by armor, looked as thin and delicate as any woman's, and her shoulders weren't that broad. Her legs, which were long and with thick thighs, looked very nice underneath the armor, and, of course, he couldn't help but notice those wide hips.

The judge quickly pushed these thoughts aside and sighed as soon as she left; he had never met a woman like her before and was intrigued, but at the same time felt contempt for her. He was going to make this woman's life as captain a living hell...

*****

Edith left the palace of justice, and as soon as she left, she breathed a sigh of relief after so much tension with that difficult judge. She went downstairs and went to the stables to get her horse to leave. She needed to find a place to stay in the city and it was a good thing she had money for accommodation and knew a place, she just needed to make sure it still existed.

It was dusk, and riding to the place, Edith observed how the town looked. Soon her thoughts were dominated by Frollo, that judge was no ordinary man, he always seemed to be driven by hatred and punishment, he wouldn't be easy to work with, that much she knew. She had nothing against Romanis, and she wasn't one to judge someone by their appearance. The redhead had a bad feeling about this, worrying about the Romani people and, of course, worrying about the city being in the hands of such a cruel judge.

Riding through the city, she passed some familiar streets until she came to St. Michael's Bridge, hearing the sound of the river passing under the bridge. As she passed the place, she was surprised that the small apartment was still there after so many years. She still had images of the House of Falourdel in her mind from when her father used to pay for lodgings there when they would visit Paris. Edith got off her horse and left him waiting in front of the apartment:

“I won't be long, Hermes, I promise.”

She spoke before entering, the bell ringing as soon as the door was opened. The same lady who had attended to her father when she was a child was there at the counter. Edith was genuinely surprised to see that this old woman was still alive. "Maybe she was so grouchy that not even hell or heaven wanted her there…" Edith bit her tongue to keep from laughing at the thought:

“Which room?” The old woman asked, exactly, without a 'good afternoon' or even a 'what do you want?' Edith frowned, one thing she hated was rudeness, but she let it pass.

*****

Managing to book a room upstairs and a stable for Hermes to stay in, the woman entered the Santa Carta room, which was not in the best condition. The walls were almost falling apart, the bed was rusty, the window was broken and there was a faint smell of mildew coming from the walls. It had been a long time since the place had been renovated.

Tired from her trip, the woman locked the door, left her things in the corner of the bed and took off her armor, feeling relieved and more relaxed after taking off the tight, uncomfortable metal. She began to clean her body with the damp cloth and finally put on her nightgown.

She wanted to walk around the city before nightfall to get to know Paris better, but she was too tired having come all this way and had a long job the next day, so that judge managed to sap her energy. She lay down on the bed and sighed, snuggling down to sleep and get ready for her first day at work tomorrow.

Continue?...

[vivwritesfics]

Love cowboy Rooster so I have idea,

Rooster and reader taking a trail ride (with others horses if you want) to a lake to have a picnic date while the horses are going crazy in the water :)

Also I love how you did a mixture of both the ideas, I loved it 🥹

-🐎

in my multipart baby of a bob cowboy fic the callsigns are nicknames they got from the rodeo -- same applies here

Bradley would never get sick of the sight of this. Of her in the barn, wearing a sundress and his fucking Stetson. All she was doing was leaning against a stable door, feeding Goose a sugar cube.

(Goose was Bradley's dad's horse. They'd gotten him at two years old from auction just months before Nick Bradshaw sadly passed. Bradley had kept Goose going for the better part of twenty eight years. He was too old to ride now, and nobody loved him more than Bradley's girlfriend).

Bradley couldn't stop himself from sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Let me say goodbye to Goose," she said and pulled the Stetson from her head to place it on his own.

The way Bradley watched her, it could only be described as having hearts for eyes. He watched as she held Goose's nose and lifted it, giving the little pink patch on his nose a kiss. "We'll be back soon, buddy," she said as his nose came to rest on her shoulder.

"C'mon," Bradley said and gently pulled her away. If he had any competition in this world, it was Goose.

Bradley helped her get into Bo's saddle. He didn't have to help her, but he always liked to. As soon as her feet her in the stirrups and she had leaned down to kiss him, he moved on, easily swinging himself up into Rusty's saddle.

They set off, riding side by side away from the Bradshaw ranch. It had been his parents before his. When his father died, Pete Mitchell (who had earnt the nickname from the rodeo) stepped up for a few years. Bradley couldn't remember when Pete left, he didn't even remember him being there. But Bradley had been the man of the house for damn near twenty years.

When his mother died, he was all alone on the ranch. Well, until she came along.

She, who brought that sparkle of light back into his life. She, who Bradley loved with everything that he had. She rode beside him, barely holding onto Bo. She didn't need to, not when he would loyally follow Rusty.

When they got to the lake, there was a series of whoops and hollers. Bradley jumped down from Rusty first. He knew she didn't need help getting out of Bo's saddle; he just liked standing behind her, pulling her against him for a brief second.

"Nice hat!" Jake 'Hangman' Seresin called towards her.

There was a time where she would have been so embarrassed that she rushed to place the hat back onto Bradley's head, but she just grinned at Jake. "Thanks," she said, tongue poking between her teeth as Bradley tied the horses up. "Stole it."

Jake rolled his eyes, but there was no malice behind it. She took her seat beside Bob, gratefully accepting the water he offered her. It wasn't often the squad got to do things like this. Jake and Natasha were both on the rodeo circuit and Bob, Javi, Mickey and Reuben all worked on ranches in the area.

Bradley sat down beside her and immediately pulled her closer, planting a kiss to her cheek.

"Are we gonna see you on the circuit this year, Bradshaw?" Nat asked from where she laid in the sun, her own hat covering her head.

Although Bradley (Or Rooster, as they called him on the circuit) was born and raised for the rodeo, he gave it up. Once his mom died and he was alone running the ranch, he just couldn't. There was far too much to do. Besides, he didn't miss the buckle bunny's begging for him to take them back to his Bronco.

"Yeah, Bradshaw," his girl said, but it didn't take him by surprise. She loved watching him do what he did best.

He finally took the hat from her head and placed it on her own. "You want to watch, pretty girl?" He asked, his mouth close to hers. They kissed and, well, a little more, only pulling away when they heard the group of late twenties/thirty year olds shouting 'ew!'

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Blue Bonnets

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x Female Reader

Word Count: 1720

Summary: What if Brock left Hydra and retired on a Ranch?

Warnings: Smut & Fluff

A/N: This idea came from @americasass81 and my muse was happy to write it.

A/N 2: Thank you to @lfnr-blog-blog-blog for beta reading this. All mistakes are still my own.

The header was made by me.

Reblogs & Comments are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

The sun was slowly setting over the horizon as Brock sat on his porch and took in the beauty of it all. The bluebonnets were coming in nicely this spring and he wondered how long they would stay. If you had asked him years ago if he would leave Hydra for a simpler life, he would have laughed in your face. Hydra at one point was the only thing keeping him together and gave him what he thought was family. Time presented its moment and he learned of all the things Hydra was capable of doing and all the lives they would take. That was when he was done with them and took off on the run. Brock watched as you rode your horse back to the house you both shared. As you start putting the horse up for the evening Brock can’t help but reminisce on how he got here.

After months of being on the run, he was able to finally make it to a small town in Texas. He was expecting to pass through just like every other town he drifted through but instead, he found you. He remembers the first time he saw you. You were at a local bar with your friends dancing in your dress, cowgirl boots, and hat. He was at the bar in the corner watching as you swayed your hips to the country music that was playing. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and by the end of the night, he would have your number. 

When you were done dancing you made your way over to the bar. You ordered a beer as you tried catching your breath from all the dancing. Your eyes glanced around the bar and you spotted Brock sitting alone, nursing a beer. He was handsome in his plaid black shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, hat sitting low on his head, and jeans that were hugging him in all the right places. You grabbed your beer and slowly walked over to him.

Brock’s eyes never left yours as you slowly walked over to him. He took a swig of his beer just as you approached him. He placed his beer on the table and gave you a smirk. You then introduced yourself and sat down in the chair next to him. Brock tilted his hat your way and introduced himself. “I’m Brock, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You instantly know the accent is not from around these parts but you are intrigued with him. As you both drink your beers slowly you make small talk. He gives you a little background that he’s from New York and had a job that just went in the wrong direction with his values. He is currently just enjoying life as a drifter but he may want to see what this town has to offer. The answer was good enough for you and you explain to him you have a ranch just on the edge of town. You were looking for a ranch hand and if he needed some work he could come by in the morning. With a grin on his face, he agrees that he will stop by. 

The rest of the night goes by in a blur and before you both know it the bar is shutting down. Brock paid both your tabs and offered to walk you to your truck. He holds the door open for you as you head outside into the cool night. When you reach your truck you turn to him and say, “I had a wonderful night Brock. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” You lean in and give a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Brock was taken aback by how gently you kissed him and lord knew he would love to pull you in for a passionate one. But for now, he’ll wait as he knows this is the beginning of something special. You both part ways for the evening leaving him to think about what the future could bring if he stayed.

The next day Brock showed up on your ranch and watched you exit a house. Today you are wearing a lightweight plaid shirt over a tank top, jeans, your boots, and a hat. You looked ready to start your day. You walked over to him, looped your arm in his, and instantly started giving him a tour of your property. You showed him the house you came from which was for the ranch hands for them to stay if they didn’t have a place. Then you showed him the rest of the buildings on the property. The tour took an hour and by the time you were done, Brock was agreeing to be your new ranch hand. 

From then on you two became inseparable, working hand in hand on the ranch. Brock worked hard to prove this was something he could do. No longer was he a Hydra soldier now he was Brock the rancher. He even got to eventually call you his woman after a few months of working together. Life was going in a direction he never imagined and he was in love with you. One night you were both getting the barn settled for the night. When he cornered you near the hay bales. His touch was light and desperate. You jumped up into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. He kissed you passionately and deepened the kiss when your mouth parted. It seemed he kissed you forever but he pulled back so you both could take a breath.

“I want you sweetheart so badly. Let me make love to you.” Brock whispered against your lips.

Your head was nodding before you could answer. “Please I need to feel you inside me. I-I have waited so long for you to ask.” You begged him to take you and Brock smiled at you. 

Brock carried you to your house as you placed kisses on his neck while occasionally nibbling on him. Brock couldn’t help the low groans that left his mouth from what you were doing. Finally reaching your bedroom Brock lowered you to your feet and stood there staring at you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I can’t wait to make love to you.”

You slowly start to undress along with him and before you know it you’re both naked. You can’t help but admire his muscles on display along with his large cock. Gently Brock pushes you to the bed and you inch your way up the bed while he follows you. As you fully lay down Brock spreads your legs and lays in between them. Seeing your glistening pussy on display for him he can’t help but go in for a taste. 

The first pass with his tongue had you begging for more. Your fingers slipped through his hair as he skillfully took you apart with his tongue. Every pass of his tongue, every suckle of your clit had you arching into him, moaning his name to the heavens. Brock then pushed two fingers into you, thrusting them in and out while he played with your clit with his mouth. His fingers sped up as he sucked on your clit and that’s all you needed to cum for him. Brock finally stopped when you started to shake in his hold from overstimulation.

Slowly he crawled up your body until he was face to face with you. “How do you feel sweetheart?”

You smiled big at him. “Like I’m on cloud nine. I need more. Please make love to me.”

“Anything you want sweetheart you can have.” Brock wrapped his hand around his hard cock giving it a few strokes before he lined himself up to your wet pussy and started to push into you. Inch by inch he slowly sank into your tight cunt and leaned over you with his arms on either side of you to hold him up. His strokes were soft but firm at times. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he rolled his hips into you. Both of you let out groans and moans with every thrust into you. Brock leaned down to kiss you on your lips, capturing your whimper of how good he was feeling inside you. His thrusts started to pick up and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room along with your moans. Within moments you were crying out your release as he started to chase his end. A few hard thrusts into you and he was cumming inside you, painting your womb in his release. Both of you were panting from the exhaustion of your lovemaking. You pulled his face towards yours and started to kiss him. Never have you felt this way with another man before. 

A few minutes later Brock pulled out of you and walked to the bathroom to clean himself up. When he walked back he had a towel with him and he sat on the bed cleaning up the mess you both made between your legs. After he was done he threw the towel in your dirty laundry bin. Brock crawled into bed with you and pulled you close to his chest. He kissed your face and settled in. 

“I’m in love with you sweetheart. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Say you will be mine forever. Say it and I promise that you will never want for anything. I will love you until my last breath.”

Your eyes welled up with tears as you answered him, “I’m in love with you too Brock. I promise to stay with you forever. You’re my everything.”

Brock’s arms wrapped around you and you both drifted off to sleep.

This seemed like an eternity ago as Brock watched you pick some bluebonnets with your little girl who was now three years old. Again if you would have asked him if he thought this was his future he would have called you crazy. Today he is happily married and has a daughter that looks just like you. The ranch, no you have saved his life. You gave him a home, a new family, and a future.

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[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Entertain us with some stupid Bonaparte facts plz.

Hahaha I've answered a lot of these, so there will be some repeats, and I'm not sure any of these could as stupid facts but they're all things I enjoy thinking about from time to time:

I love that he was described as having a lovely smile that could change the weather if he was turning on the charm (also his eyes were described as one of his chief charms). People also described him as having more the air of a scholar than that of a soldier.

That said, Napoleon didn't do small talk so much as a full-frontal barrage of questions which uh...isn't intimidating at all.

Napoleon liked to say he was born on a rug embroidered with an image of Caesar but Letizia apparently replied to that story with “is it not enough that he was born, but it must be upon a rug decorated with Caesar?” (or something to that effect). 

One time on St. Helena he got Barry O'Meara champagne drunk and teased the man about this lass he was in love with and was like "you're in your thirties, you need to get married!" and O'Meara was like "ummmm I've no money and am not ready" and Napoleon was like "nonsense".

In general, Napoleon loved playing matchmaker. He wasn't very good at it but he loved it anyway. He was an eighty-year old nosey, gossipy, match-scheming grandma at heart.

Napoleon enjoyed snuff but wasn't super graceful taking it so there'd be snuff powder on his suit coats sometimes. He would also fidget with the snuff boxes and regularly lost them.

Indeed, Napoleon was one of life's fidgeters. Which, coincidentally, made him difficult to shave. Constant recounts in his memoir:

[Napoleon] frequently talked, read the papers, moved round on his chair, turned suddenly, and I was obliged to use the greatest precaution to avoid wounding him. … When by chance he did not talk, he remained immovable and stiff as a statue, and one could not make him lower, raise, or bend his head, as would have been necessary in order to accomplish the task more easily. He had also one singular mania, which was to have only one side of his face lathered and shaved at a time. He would never let me pass to the other side until the first was finished.

One of Marie-Louise’s pet names for him was Nana and she would call him that in front of courtiers and Very Important People and Napoleon rolled with it. 

His favourite book was the epic poem Ossian because Napoleon liked campy over-the-top epics. Joseph would later try and claim his brother's favourite book was the Illiad (if I remember right) because Ossian was considered trash literature at the time. Like if Napoleon's favourite book was Game of Thrones and his brother is like "no, trust me, it's War and Peace. It's Real Literature~~. It's Dante's Inferno. It's anything that is More Serious. Please believe me".

He was a terrible rider, though he rode " very boldly and recklessly" (according to one of his secretaries). Napoleon loved to Go Fast - bit of an adrenaline junky I suspect. He was also known to ride for hours - the stamina was insane - and he was not easily deterred by treacherous terrain.

He was described by a cavalry officer as riding "like a butcher". Quote from Ernst von Odeleben, the cavalry officer in question:

Napoleon himself remarked at one time…that he had learned a great many things, but had never been able to make himself a complete horseman. His make was not indeed calculated for equitation. When he galloped, he sat carelessly in the saddle, generally holding the reins in his right hand, while the upper part of his body was jumbled, as the horse went on, forward, or on one side, and his left hand hung negligently down. If the horse made a false step, he immediately lost his balance. [...] As he was not a good horseman, all those who approached him mounted upon a mare were obliged to be cautious that they were not thrown out of the saddle by the capers of his horse. [...] Napoleon was passionately fond of going across the fields, without letting any person know whither he bent his course. The chasseurs of the guard were so accustomed to this habit, that by the first direction which he took, they became perfectly well acquainted with the place towards which he was going. He was so fond of bye-ways and paths, that finding himself, on several occasions, in craggy places, or impracticable roads, he was obliged to alight: it was always a disagreeable thing to him to hear of difficulties or impossibilities…and he seldom abandoned his intention til he was himself convinced of the impossibility of proceeding. 

Naturally, Napoleon did take some epic falls off his horses from time to time. This is the man who would trip and break his face if he wasn't careful.

Napoleon would sing upon occasion, though he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Songs he liked included various tunes from the opera Henri IV, also the Marseillaise, various songs from the revolution &c. One of his favourite composers was Giovanni Paisiello.

---

I shall stop there. Thank you for the ask!

[gipitothefrog]

Western

this is my first time doing a microfic prompt, sorry that it's rubbish :/

Word count: 589

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

“So, how’s it going?” Sirius asked as he fell into a trot beside Remus. 

Remus glanced at Sirius, smiling slightly. “Same as usual, Sir’us. Lotta cattle.” Sirius loved how Remus’ thick southern accent wrapped around his name, like molasses and honey. It sent a shiver down his spine that unfortunately he had to ignore. Remus, in all his perfection, would never want him, would he?

“I know how that is,” Sirius joked, gesturing to the herd in front of them. Remus let out a small huff of laughter and put his attention back on said cattle.

They rode in silence, and he took the opportunity to savor the man beside him. He was tall, muscular, and broad, with amber eyes and a scar across his face that Remus had once admitted to him, on a drunken night, was from his father a long time ago. Sirius never pressed, and Remus never elaborated. That night, however, had been a watershed moment in their relationship, in Sirius’ opinion.

That night, in the glow of the campfire, after Sirius had shared his own stories of his terrible parents, Remus had kissed him. It was short, just a peck really. Sirius knew it probably had meant nothing to the taller man, but to him, it meant everything. If he concentrated hard, he could still feel the burn of Remus’ lips against his own.

That had been exactly a year ago, and still he was unable to get it off his mind. So Sirius had decided to do something about it.

Steeling up the nerves, he took a deep breath.

“Remus?”

“Yes, Sir’us?”

Oh my god, Sirius. Focus!

“Do you remember… last year? When we had that bonfire for James’ birthday?”

“The one where we got downright hammered? Yes, I reckon I do recall that night. What about it?”

“You— well, I don’t know how to go about this, but do you remember—”

“I kissed you, yes I do remember.”

“Oh. Well. Um, I suppose… why?”

Remus looked at him contemplatively for a moment. It made Sirius squirm, to have the beautiful man’s eyes on him for so long.

“I would think that would be pretty obvious, Sir’us.” There it was. His stupid name coming out of that dreadful glorious mouth and sounding so perfect. “I reckon, and bear with me, it was because I liked you. And I was drunk, that was part of it too.”

Sirius stared at him in shock for a solid minute as their horses continued trotting along behind the cattle.

He let out a nervous laugh. “Right, well, you surely don’t still like me do—”

“No, I do.” Sirius’s eyes widened. This had to be a dream. Remus had to be messing with him. “I can stop if you like but I’d rather not. You never seemed inclined to let me.”

“Let you…?”

“Let me stop liking you. Every time I tried you’d look at me with those eyes, and I reckon that’s what's kept me here for so long.”

Remus looked away, but Sirius could still see the slight flush of his cheeks. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him for not realizing sooner. 

Sirius gulped. “I- I suppose for me, it was the way you said my name.”

Remus looked back at him, surprised. Sirius felt heat rush to his face and looked down, but he was smiling.

When he looked back up, just a moment later, Remus was still looking at him. There were stars in his eyes, and he was smiling too.

[dockett]

So Alive II Joel Miller x Reader

The first time you laid your eyes on Joel, you knew something felt... different.

Warnings: gunshot wound, stitches, explicit content 18+, soft!joel, oral/fingering f!receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, minors dni.

Word count: 3.1k

Something had sparked in you the first time you saw Joel Miller. You could feel the heat swirl up through your body, like the world was begging you to open up. Begging you to connect. Begging you to invite this man in. You didn't know if you could.

But something in you wanted to try.

It was the end of June, and it was hot. Hotter than you had remembered it being the year before. Joel rode beside you, he always did. You never acknowledged that you liked his closeness to you. 

Patrol that day was standard, riding to a nearby abandoned settlement for supplies, and was going decently without a hitch, until it wasn't. Shots were fired, and then Joel was falling back off of his horse hitting the ground hard. He gasped, the wind being knocked out of him, and in an instant you were off your horse, skidding to a halt on the ground beside him. 

The other members of the patrol dealt with the situation, riding for cover. The shootout began, and took only a few minutes to disperse. You couldn't care about that, even though you knew you should've. All you could focus on was Joel, blood starting to seep through his shirt. You swallowed, your hands shaky. You went to start unbuttoning his shirt, trying to assess the damage, but his other hand stopped you. 

“‘M fine,” he muttered, grabbing your arm as his eyes trained on you. You shook your head. 

“Joel, you are certainly not fine.”  

He stared at you, and then slowly but surely released his grip on your wrist. He nodded. You got to work. 

•••

He had leaned on you, one arm wrapped around your middle as you rode back to Jackson. You were acutely aware of him, telling yourself it was because you didn't want him to fall off. He was shaky.

You escorted him to the medical center personally, and when they pulled him back to stitch him up, he asked you to come with him. How could you have said no? 

He had a stoic expression as they stitched up his wounds. The bullet cut clean through his left trapezius muscle, skimming over the top of his collarbone. His hand twitched and he glanced at you. His eyes were unreadable. 

Your quick fix of wrapping gauze around his wounds after he had fallen off his horse had saved him a lot of blood loss, they told you. You just felt he was lucky to be alive. If the gunman’s aim had been any better, Joel wouldn't have lived. The thought chilled you, making goosebumps rise on your arms. You didn't like it, the idea of bringing back a body instead of a living man. Especially with it being Joel. 

They gave him a sling to wear, instructing him to give the injury time to heal. You could tell he hated it. He just nodded his head at the nurses, and they shuffled out of the room. You stepped towards him then, as he stood from the bed. His shirt was still unbuttoned. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked. 

“Like I got kicked by a horse,” he replied, trying to feed the button through the hole at the top of his shirt. He growled in frustration when he failed. 

“Let me.” 

He did. You buttoned his shirt for him, top to bottom. “Dunno how I'm gonna get out of this later,” he murmured. 

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there,” you chirped. “Let's go get you something to eat, and some rest.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, but followed you all the same. 

•••

The next few weeks were difficult for Joel. He couldn't lift anything, or reach above him with his left arm, so he ended up spending most of his time with you at the stables while you cleaned out stalls and groomed the horses. You enjoyed this job, much more than when they put you on patrols. Horses were easier on you.

Joel wasn't much of a talker at first but neither were you. You enjoyed the company all the same. As his range of motion got better, and the sling finally became a thing of the past, he would help you with what he could.

“My uncle had a ranch,” he told you one day as he groomed. You were cleaning the stall. It had become a routine, you do the heavy lifting and he gets the horses cleaned while haltered just outside the stall. It worked for both of you. “Used to go there every weekend with Tommy up until I was a teenager.” 

He patted the horse on the neck as he brushed over its back. “Never really thought I'd ride again.” 

You nodded, leaning against the pitchfork as you wiped your sweating brow with the back of your arm. You had grown up around horses, your family owning a ranch out in butt fuck nowhere Utah. “I'm glad I get to work with them here,” you said. “Reminds me of home.”

Joel patted the horse again, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Me, too.” 

You smiled at the sight. You always tucked these little moments away, somewhere deep in your memory where you would access them late at night. Joel liked horses. Joel missed football. Joel wasn't always the best cook, but he liked to barbecue. Joel was protective of his family. And most of all, Joel liked you. 

•••

Joel was livid. Why? You didn't know, but you could see it all over him when he opened the door. You could hear it in his tone. 

“Now, what did I—” he stopped. It was only you. You swallowed, suddenly very on edge. 

“Hi, uh… I can—I can come back another time.” 

“No,” he responded, reaching to grab your shoulder as you step away. You pause, unsure of yourself. His hackles were starting to lower. He took a deep breath. “Please.” 

Please. 

You slowly nodded your head and stepped inside. He closed and locked the door behind you, and then without a word walked around you and into the kitchen. You followed. A beautiful aroma was wafting through the air, and you could hear Joel muttering to himself as he lifted a lid off the pot on the stove.

You were hesitant to say anything. You didn't want to push the already angry man. Against better judgment you asked, “What's for dinner?”

He didn't turn to face you. “Stew,” he said, putting the lid back on. “Only has a few more minutes. I was plannin’ on bringin’ you some.” 

You felt your cheeks warm. He had been thinking about you, and more specifically, thinking about bringing you something he made. You felt a soft smile pull at your lips. “That's kind of you.”

He grunted, and then looked over his shoulder at you. “At the door–I–well… Tommy and Maria just left.” 

You knew from your small conversations that Joel didn't like Maria. Maria didn't like Joel. Something must've happened between the two, you assumed, and decided not to push. Instead you walked closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“You alright?” 

He closed his eyes, sighing and then bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “It'll be fine.” 

You nodded, opening your mouth to say something before your stomach growled loudly. Joel chuckled, turning to face you. “Someone's hungry.” 

You could feel yourself blush as you glanced away. His finger was there, hooking under your chin and pulling your face back towards him. “Hey now,” he said, a sudden softness in his eyes. His lips parted, and then closed, like he couldn't figure out what to say. His hand moved, cupping your cheek. The other went to grab your hip. You felt stiff in his arms. It was happening so quickly—maybe too quickly. He leaned forward, his nose bumping yours and asked, “Can I?” 

You felt yourself nod, and you swallowed thickly. All of the residual anger left his body as he leaned further into you, meeting your lips with his own. He was incredibly soft in his actions. He kissed you with a gentleness you didn't expect, and you couldn't help but sigh and bring your arms up to wrap around his middle as he held you in place.

He pulled back, and you leaned into him until he broke away completely. He was breathing hard and so were you. He kept his hands on you, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Let's eat,” he said with a small and genuine smile. You nodded, giving him a bright smile of your own. 

The stew was delicious and at the first bite you teared up. Your hand was on the table, under his, and he squeezed it tightly when he saw them bubbling up in your eyes. “Hey,” he murmured. “You alright?” 

You nodded, feeling embarrassed. “Yes, sorry… it tastes like my mom’s.” 

He slowly nodded back. “I used to make it for Tommy and… well. It was about the only damn thing I could make.”

He gave you a watery smile. It clicked in your brain, tonight must've been important for Joel to go out of his way to make something, especially something that clearly was nostalgic for him. You took another bite, savoring the memories it was bringing you, too. 

The two of you ate in silence, his hand not leaving yours. 

He took your bowl when you were done, putting it in the sink. You stayed sitting at the table as he got the food put away in the fridge. It was weird to watch him. It felt strangely domestic—strangely normal. Even with all the pain and loss you had experienced, moments like this made the world worth living for.

Joel walked back over to you, extending his hand to offer to help you stand. You took it and he pulled you up against him, planting another kiss on your lips. Your hands looped around the back of his neck. 

“You can say no,” he mumbled against your lips. “But if you want to come up to the bedroom with me, I'd sure like that.” 

You thought about the implication there. Joining Joel in the bedroom with no one else home. Your body tingled. Maybe it's what you both needed. You kissed him back with fervor before saying, “Okay.”

He stepped away, your hands slid down to his chest. His heart was pounding hard and fast under his shirt. He was nervous, you could see it in his eyes, feel it in the way his heart beat. He grabbed your hand with his, and led you upstairs. 

He sat down on the bed, his hands on your hips as he looked up at you. You stood between his legs, one hand on his right shoulder and the other behind his head, and you kissed him. Hard. He moaned into your mouth, and you gulped it down, feeling feverish. Your mouth opened when his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, and he invaded greedily. He was taking what was his. 

And you let him, your tongues caressing and exploring each other. He pulled away from you, and you whined in protest. He looked at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips. It made a wetness pool between your thighs as you looked down, seeing a string of saliva connecting the two of you. 

You felt encouraged, a fire blossoming in your chest. You brought your knees up onto the bed, straddling him. His hands came to your sides, running up and down them before squeezing your breasts. You gasped, arching your back into him. He grumbled about needing to get your shirt off, and in a heartbeat you were pulling it off over your head along with your bra. 

His lips found your nipple immediately, hot and sizzling on your skin. He sucked and pulled, working it with his tongue. You couldn't stop the moans he pulled from you, his large hands on your bare back searing into you. Your hands tangled in his hair, gripping tight enough that it probably stung. He groaned against you, vibrating into you. The sound went straight to your abdomen, causing tendrils of heat to grip your body. You shook in his arms.

Almost unnoticeably, he shook, too. 

He released your nipple with a loud ‘pop!’ and he kissed up your neck before rolling you both. You landed on your back, and he kissed his way down your sternum and soft stomach. You twitched under each touch. He grabbed the button and fly of your jeans, undoing them and pulling them off. You squirmed as he looked at you, fully aware of his gaze raking over your body. 

“You're beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your thigh as he settled between them. You felt your cheeks burn. Getting complimented by the gruff man made your toes curl. 

“Thank you,” you whispered back, fingers sliding back into his hair. 

He hummed as he took off your panties. You laid your head back, and he breathed against you. “Hey, look at me.”

You gasped as he licked through your folds and then you looked down at him like he asked of you. He hardly even blinked, drinking you in as he tasted you. Your eyebrows furrowed as he set a pace and pattern, swirling his tongue across your clit.

Your grip on his hair tightened, legs jerking, when he slid a thick finger into your pussy, sinking it knuckle deep and curling it. Another followed, causing you to groan his name. He hummed again, sucking your clit into his mouth. 

Joel's fingers curled, and then he pumped them in and out of you. Your hips bucked off the bed in response. His other hand came searching, reaching up for your nipple. He pinched it and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. 

“Fuck you taste so damn good,” he growled. “Such a good girl.”

You clenched around his fingers in response, the praise going to your head and making you grin. Your head dropped back into the pillows as he continued his devoted and yet ruthless momentum. Your body tightened, like a coil ready to spring. You breathed harder, his name dripping from your lips over and over like honey. You grabbed onto him tighter, your heels digging into his back. 

“Cum,” he demanded, rutting his lower body into the bed. “Cum on my fingers, show me what a good girl you are.” 

Three more passes with his tongue and two more pumps of his fingers, and you were crashing into your orgasm. Joel groaned, almost louder than you, as you tightened around him. Your thighs slammed closed around his head as your other hand shot to the bed, bunching up the blanket under you. You bucked, you writhed, you cried his name, and your heart beat so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

He slowly pulled away from you as you came down, still twitching and whimpering. He smirked at you, licking his lips. Your wetness was all over his beard and mustache, and you shuddered as he climbed up. He positioned himself between your legs, the denim strained by how hard he was. He shifted his hips against you as he kissed you, making sure you tasted yourself on his lips.

“Joel,” you whined when he pulled his lips away. “Get out of these.” 

You grabbed his ass through his jeans, and he sat up, undoing the buttons of his shirt. He let it slide off of his shoulders and discarded it across the room. He made quick work if his pants, too, and then he was naked before you. His cock was curved up, swollen and thick, and he grabbed it with his hand, giving it a few pumps. 

“You ready?” He asked, touching your bruised clit with the head of his dick. You trembled, shaking like a leaf under him, but nodded all the same. He pushed himself into you slowly, giving you both time to adjust. He hissed out a small, “F-fuck.” 

Your hands shot to his arms, gripping them tightly as the pain of the large man stretching you open brought a lump to your throat. He leaned over you, keeping your head on his left side as he kissed and nuzzled your throat. “Mmm, so tight. You're doin’ such a good job for me.” 

You arched your back as he fully seated himself. You both breathed hard as he began to shift his hips back and forth. Your fingers dug into him, squeezing his arms tightly as he began to move harder and faster. The bed creaked underneath you as the sound of his body meeting yours echoed through the room.

He pulled his face away from your neck, looking down at you with eyes that burned into yours. Your eyebrows furrowed, your nails beginning to leave red trails across his skin before he sat up, your hands falling to your sides. He grabbed under your knees, pulling your legs up and over his shoulders. 

He leaned down again, pain sparked in your thighs at the delicious stretch, and you cried out louder and louder as he pounded into you. He hit so much deeper than before at this angle, pressing into just the right spots that had your legs trembling. 

Your next orgasm tore through you so hard and fast and that you couldn't even register Joel anymore. You were gone, floating in the pops of color that surrounded your vision when you closed your eyes. Your body tightened around him over and over again, forcing him to slow down. 

As you came down, you gulped in air, trying to tether yourself back to the physical world. His hips began snapping into you again, and your legs fell off of his shoulders. He wrapped them around his hips instead. His hand came to your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye.

“Good girl,” he murmured. 

You couldn't even form words, so instead you moaned in appreciation. His thrusts were heavy, slow and deep, pushing himself into you completely, and when he finally came, he pressed his forehead to yours and whimpered your name. 

Your hands found his sides and back, nails sliding across his ribs as he filled you up, his whole body jerking before finally relaxing against you. He sighed as you felt his heart beat, pounding against your chest, and then he kissed your temple before pulling out and rolling over next to you. 

You smiled to yourself as you looked at him, his eyes closed as he laid on his back. You felt completely satiated by him, and as you rolled over to cuddle close, you felt that spark from the first time you'd laid eyes on him. 

You were glad you tried.

[lunatyklines]

OVER THE GARDEN WALL (P.1) - a collection of lines from the beloved animated spooky season classic. a rp meme. *adjust pronouns and wording as needed

❝ Wait, wait a second. Uh … [name]? Where are we? ❞

❝ Do you think it's some kind of deranged lunatic with an axe waiting out there in the darkness for innocent victims? ❞

❝ Well, you're slapping yourself, and I'm answering your question, and– ❞

❝ This guy sounds loony. Maybe we should make a break for it, if we can. ❞

❝ We may need to knock him out first. ❞

❝ I dunno. Sometimes I feel like I'm just like…a boat, upon a winding river…twisting, towards an endless black sea… ❞

❝ Did you know, that if you soak a raisin in grape juice, it turns into a grape? ❞

❝ Ugh, you're not helping at all. ❞

❝ Aw, beans! Where is that frog o' mine? ❞

❝ You have beautiful eyes. ❞

❝ Oh, holy moley, hot dog–!! ❞

❝ That was the plan, remember? Knock him out! ❞

❝ Can you turn me into a tiger? It doesn't have to be a magical tiger. ❞

❝ [Name], stop talking to a bush. ❞ 

❝ Oh– do you like waffles? ❞

❝ Pumpkins can't move on their own! Can they? ❞

❝ You find this place as creepy as I do, right? ❞

❝ So, it's some kind of weird cult. They seem nice enough. ❞

❝ Okay. You're in denial. That's fine. ❞

❝ I'm really just looking to leave here. As fast as possible. ❞

❝ You'll never convict! You have no proof! ❞

❝ I simply have to punish you for your transgressions. ❞

❝ I told you this place was bad news! ❞

❝ Maybe they're gonna bury you out there. ❞

❝ Yes! I want your help! ❞

❝ I guess in some ways, I'm trying to get home too. ❞

❝ I don't have to tell you anything. ❞

❝ But we have to do something fun. ❞

❝ We can just keep walking silently, you know? ❞

❝ Hey! What? I'm not a pushover. ❞

❝ The world is a miserable place, [Name]. Life isn't fun. ❞

❝ We need to do our part to make the world a better place! ❞

❝ School?! Not today. ❞

❝ You're late. You know the rules. ❞

❝ Oof. That lady's got some baggage. ❞

❝ So, my theory is hot dogs are not actually dogs, regardless of what they teach you in school. ❞

❝ Oh boy! Mealtime! ❞

❝ This is way better than being chased by a gorilla. ❞

singing ❝ Oh potatoes and molasses, if you want some, oh just ask us~ ❞

❝ I just wanted to have fun, change the world, and make it a better place. But I just made everything worse. ❞

❝ You're a stubborn jerk. When are you gonna give this up? ❞

❝ If only something would go right for a change. ❞

❝ Okay, I think he's asleep. Let's go steal his stuff. ❞

❝ All he ever did was steal my heart away. ❞

❝ I found a duck. Do you know how to make eggs from a duck? I'm hungry. ❞

❝ Finally some good luck. Let's go to this creepy tavern and ask for some directions. ❞

❝ Curse you! Curse you! You'll die someday and I'll laugh! ❞

❝ What kind of person goes out chopping trees in the middle of a thunderstorm at night? ❞

❝ You don't need directions. You follow that compass inside your heart. ❞

❝ Uh … no, I think we need directions. ❞

❝ [Name] was amazing! He sang a song, rode a horse, and saved you from the axe guy! ❞

❝ I was thinking more like flat-out stealing from him. ❞

❝ I want to steal. ❞

❝ Yeah! I want to see the ghost! To the painting! ❞

❝ Afraid of a ghost? Ghosts are just floaty things. ❞

❝ It's stuck. Well, guess we just have to spend some quality time together. ❞

❝ Don't change the subject. ❞

❝ How about you tell me about your darkest secrets instead? ❞

❝ My secrets are too secret. ❞

❝ Now who's avoiding the question? ❞

❝ I secretly whisper poetry to myself in my room at night. ❞

❝ It looks like there was a struggle – a violent struggle. ❞

❝ I can't thank you enough for helping me to face my fears. ❞

❝ It's a rock fact! ❞

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Truth be told, Jack doesn’t remember the eight seconds he spent on the bronco’s back.

If any moon-eyed fangirls come up to him and ask about it, he plans on giving the standard blanket responses, like all he heard was the roar of the crowd.

In actuality, all he has are fragments from right before the livestock hands pulled that gate. It’s hard to forget that kind of anticipation racing through his veins, the sawing sound of rope pinning his riding glove to the back of the horse as Jack grit his teeth, ordering Racer to pull it even tighter.

Everything else, like the sickening crack from his head slamming against Midnight Train’s spine that made the audience cringe in horror, was told to him second hand. 

The trainer who checked him out gave him a lot of medical jargon he wasn’t too familiar with, but Jack gathered the important stuff. No riding for three days, get plenty of rest, neither of which he has any intention of following. And of course, there was the whole spiel about concussions affecting memory.

Imprinted in his is the face of one of the pick-up men as Jack faded in and out of consciousness, stern and cool and steady. He can nearly still feel strong arms around him, keeping him from falling into the dirt of the arena, can still hear the New York accent reassuringly mutter, “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

So if Jack can’t stop thinking of the pick-up man who hauled his limp body from the horse into his lap, he’s chalking it up to brain damage. 

He’s been named Rookie of The Year for Bareback Riding—Jack Kelly can’t afford to be distracted by any potential flings. 

And still, every time he blinks, that face is waiting for him just behind his eyelids.

It’s the longest, most agonizing twenty-four hours before an opportunity to make a bad decision presents itself to Jack. He usually doesn’t make it that long. He also usually doesn’t go that long without visiting Dancer, but his body needed to recover after being thrown off that horse in the arena. 

The first thing that greets Jack when he enters the stables is the very same face that’s been stuck in his mind since yesterday. The pick-up man is reaching up, brushing the soft golden mane of the quarter horse that pulled Jack off the bronco.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he greets, drawing up his most charming first-impressions smile.

“In the stables?” asks the pick-up man. Not an ounce of his attention dedicated to brushing his horse’s long blond mane is redirected to Jack. “Pretty sure this is the least fancy place to meet someone.”

“It’s as good a place as any to thank you. For yesterday.”

“I assume you mean when you got your ass bucked off of Midnight Train and I dragged you out?”

Jack scoffs. He should probably be accosted, but he’s only more intrigued. “That would be correct,” he admits.

“No need to thank me, in that case. Just doing my job.”

“Be nice if I had a name to the face that saved my rawhide.”

“And it’d be nice if you checked your staff sheet maybe once before you rode.”

Jack blinks. “Pardon me,” he begins, leaning an elbow up against Dancer’s stable, “but have I offended you?”

“Not yet.” His head twitches in annoyance. “But you’re a rodeo man. You’re bound to eventually.”

Jack crosses his arms. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

The pick-up man pauses and sighs, finally rewarding Jack with a look in his direction. He pretends not to, but Jack catches the way his eyes quickly scan him up and down. “David. David Jacobs. Which you’d have known if you’d check your staff sheet. You haven’t even bothered to give me your name, because you assume everyone already knows it.”

“So you’re saying you haven’t heard of me.”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about you, Jack Kelly,” David answers, turning his attention back to the silky mane he’d been brushing.

Jack looks up at the horse in question—a beautiful quarter with an unusual coloring halfway between brown and straight up golden. He steals another glance at David, head turned up in an admiration that’s reserved for the sacred bond between man and horse, as ridiculous as Jack admits that sounds.

Still, it’s quite the sight. David is quite the sight, beams of the setting sun reflecting off his green eyes, the shadows accentuating the perfect combination of curves and angles on his face.

 “Gorgeous,” Jack finds himself muttering.

“Thanks,” David replies, completely missing where Jack’s compliment was directed. “Shimmer’s my pride and joy. If you should be thanking anyone, it’s her. She’s a bit of a social butterfly. Even broncs love her.” He turns his gaze to Which one’s yours?”

“The skittery one right next door.” Jack points out the appaloosa horse, Dancer, aptly named for the way she fidgets her feet when she’s excited.

David snorts. “Figures. Shimmer’s obsessed with her. I always catch them talking to each other ‘cross the stables.”

“Funny. I’m obsessed with you.”

David rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should be obsessed with brushing up your technique, and you won’t get your ass handed to you so often.”

“Ass handed to me? I made it to eight seconds.” He also ranked fourth in the semifinals. As a rookie. But he won’t bring that up right now.

“It’s going to take a lot more than eight seconds to impress me.”

“Let me take you out to dinner then, darlin’. Show you that I can go all night.”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

Jack shrugs. “To be completely honest, I think I’m downright adorable, but that’s besides the point.”

He thinks he might see David’s mouth twitch when he returns his attention to Jack. “I don’t sleep with cowboys. Kind of a rule of mine.”

“Believe me, sweetheart, you spend a night with me and we won’t be doing any sleeping.” He chances hooking a finger under David’s chin and dragging his mouth dangerously close to his ear. It’s entirely too brazen and forward, but Jack doesn’t know any other way to be. “You think Broncos are the only thing I know how to ride?” he asks, grinning when he hears David swallow around a drying throat.

“You couldn’t keep me saddled if you tried,” David mutters back, and his breath against Jack’s cheek sends a shudder from his ear, through his spine, all the way down to his toes.

And then David shoves him. Hard. Sending Jack toppling over his own feet and sprawling out onto the ground with an incredible lack of grace.

“Like I said,” David calls back as he opens the gate to Shimmer’s stable and saddles her up. “Technique could use some fixing.”

The click of horse hooves trotting against cobblestone fading into the distance, Jack decides he’s unequivocally in love with David Jacobs.

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Make Believe Adventures (repost from my dA Missluckychan22)

Tessa, who was now 11, sat mournfully looking at the foggy day through her window. She was being punished for speaking up at breakfast about how she didn't want to practice ballroom dancing. The girl laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"You can come out of your room at dinner time, young lady!", the words of James Elliott, the girl's strict father, rang through her head.

Serial Designation J, Tessa's very first worker drone friend sat beside her on the bed. The silver ponytailed robot woman reassured, "Look, I know it's bad but, the day will go by,"

The second fixed one, a sweet little butler named N who had curly white hair responded, "Yeah, we could always play Rummy."

"GIN Rummy," J corrected to N, holding back slugging the littler guy in the shoulder for Tessa's sake.

Tessa sighed and hugged her pillow as she looked out her bedroom window. "I want to go on an adventure, I want to sword fight and explore and do something instead of being trapped in this god-awful prison."

J laughed a little at her thought. "No, that's silly,"

"What is it, J?" Tessa inquired, her eyes full of interest in what her favourite girl worker drone was thinking.

J relinquished her thought for the inquisitive Tessa, relaxing her shoulders as she suggested, "Remember that game we used to play when you were 9 right after you fixed me up?" J knew it was silly, however, if Tessa was interested in what her idea could be, then it was all the more worth it now that she told the girl she admired.

"The Princess and the Mage?" the young Elliot family woman exclaimed, trying not to be loud enough for her parents to hear, "I used to love that game!"

N had heard about this game but he never got to play, he eagerly trilled, "Could I play too? I really would wanna join."

"Maybe if we needed a villain…" J teased.

Tessa shook her head and giggled, "Nooo, not a villain, but a prince! A prince captured by a wicked witch!"

Just then, the newest robot Tessa had repaired after her parents destroyed it, a pretty little robot maid with glasses, came in with Tessa's noon tea and biscuits. The bobbed haired drone greeted politely, "Your noon tea, Miss Elliot."

Tessa piped up as she got off the bed and held V's skirt ever so gently to get the robot's attention, "Please, V, could you join me and my friends for a game?"

V looked to N, her LED display showing little white light blush marks before agreeing to play.

Tessa let out a little squeal of delight and stated, "For real life? Thank you, V! I need you to climb ontop of the wardrobe with N, and I want you to pretend to be a witch who kidnapped a prince."

N helped get the chair from Tessa's vanity desk and put it infront of the large wardrobe cabinet. He giggled, "After you, my lady," as he held his hand out to V.

The sweet bespectacled maid took his hand and hopped up onto the chair before laying down on her stomach attop the furniture where N soon joined her. V had read a lot of fairytales in the library with N, and she was familiar with the role of a witch. She took a decorative spoon she kept with her and held it like a makeshift wand. The little maid cackled and called down to Tessa and J, "Helloooo my pretties! I have kidnapped your precious prince! And if you want to save him from me turning him into a dog, you'll save him before sunset tonight!"

N laughed and recounted, "Ooh, good one, V!" before doing his best Shakespearian themed voice and recounting, "Alas, oh Princess Tessa, fairest of them all, dost thou wisheth to save me from becoming a common mutt? I shall wait for thee atop the highest tower in the land." ---------------------------------------

The forest was filled with song birds and sunlight, the two friends, a mage and her princess protege rode on the back of a stunning white horse down the forest path.

"I think you should maybe think of saving another prince, my liege," Lady Jay of Umbridge scorned as she rolled her eyes at the princess with the flowing ebony hair.

The lionhearted Princess Tessa Elliot of Manorwood insisted as they rode out of the forest path and into the emerald glenn, "It wouldn't right of me to let him be turned into a dog, he has a throne to return to, as do we. So let us make haste!" The two women rode towards the edge of the valley, towards a dark forest with cawing crows and rolling fog. The horse began to buck and bray, horrified of the dark woods, causing the two to dismount the creature.

"You won't come with us, will you, girl?" Tessa bargained with the ivory coloured mare.

Lady Jay, sighing in annoyance, waved her hands and summoned forth a bunch of fresh garden carrots, shaking one in front of the horse. "Come on, you wouldn't want the orcs to come and turn tho into glue and a meal, woulds't thou?"

The horse brayed arrogantly at the silver-haired mechanical mage, and began galloping to find another way through the dark woods.

"Guess we are on our own, huh, Jay?" the Princess stated before optimistically calling out, drawing a sword out of the scabbard, "Well then, we must press on, we must make it to the tower through the woods."

The two headed, now on foot into the foggy and dark woods. The eerie forest sounds grew louder as they continued on. The two were stopped as they heard wild cackling.

From a small clearing, with thunderbolts and lightning appearing from the skies above, was the vile and wicked witch simply known as Vendetta. The wild eyed witch shot a lightning bolt straight at Tessa, she leapt clear of the blow. "You may be spritely, dearie, but I am more than a one trick pony!" Vendetta laughed as she commanded a tree to come to life before she flew away on a broom stick while calling out, "Good luck, dearies!"

Princess Tessa brandished her sword, standing infront of the towering, monsterous cyprus.

Jay, waited in the wings, she knew what she would need to do, she just had to do like they practiced.

The Princess, despite being in a dress, effortly dodged the swipes at her by the creature as she swung at it, cleaving off the tendril-like branches with her broadsword.

The tree creature reached down and swiped up the Princess before letting out a roar.

Lady Jay ran full tilt at the tree, holding in her hands a single piece of coal. She ran her thumbs across the carbony rock, causing it to ignite. "See you in Hell, foul beast!" the silver haired mage screamed as she tossed the flaming rock at the Cyprus-Tree creature.

The creature dropped the princess in horror as it went up in flames, letting Tessa fall into the open arms of her lovely mage companion.

The two saw then the end of the storm and charged towards the glistening sunlight. At last, out of the scary forest! Princess Tessa saw as her horse came bounding from the edge of the trees towards her. Lady Jay scoffed with a laugh, "Your horse isn't very brave, Princess."

"That's alright, Jay," the princess reassured as she re-sheathed her sword for now, "But we most certainly are!" The two hopped back upon the steed and ventured closer to the ivory tower, hearing a charming man's voice singing from the room near the spire's top.

"It's the handsome and kind Prince Nathaniel!" Princess Tessa proclaimed as they rode closer to the tower.

The prince noticed the two women approaching on the horse, he called down, "Hello Princess Tessa of Manorwood and Lady Jay of Umbridge!"

Lady Jay mocked from the back of the horse, "If you really were a prince you'd get yourself down there."

Nathaniel sweetly replied, "Maybe if I had 20 years, 35 feet of hair and a pair of scissors."

Vendetta, who was also in the tower couldn't help but giggle at that reference and she bargained down to Princess Tessa, "Okay, tell you what, I won't turn the Prince into a dog, if you let me marry him."

Tessa raised an eyebrow and laughed, "Wait what?"

Lady Jay put her arm around the Princess and responded back rudely, "WELL THATS FINE, SHE DOESN'T NEED A STINKIN PRINCE! BUT I'M STILL GOING UP THERE AND KICKING YOUR ASS, WITCH!" she hopped off the white horse and started climbing with her barehands up the tower, insulting the witch every couple feet.

Tessa hopped off her horse and scolded, "Hang on, Lady Jay! You could fall!"

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

J was climbing up the bookshelf that stood next to the wardrobe.

V giggled as she took a stack of books and started throwing them at J.

Tessa called out, "WAIT!" in fright but it was too late, the sound of the books hitting the floor rang out in the room. She could hear her parents shouting from down the hall and the approaching sound of her father's shoes on the mahogany floors. She called to her robots, "Quick, grab a book and sit near my bed!"

Mr Elliot finally came into Tessa's room, he burst the door open and shouted, "I thought we told you, young-lady to…" he stopped his yelling as he looked on at the sight.

J was softly reading a book to Tessa while they sat on the bed.

N sat at the vanity chair that was now by Tessa's bed, pretending to read silently. V stood in the corner with a handful of books, smiling politely to Mr Elliot.

Tessa's father blinked in confusion before sighing and saying calmly, "Carry on," before walking out and closing the door.

The three robots and their best human friend waited silently until they no longer could hear the foot steps in the hall, and they all had a quiet laugh about it. Tessa pulled in N, V, and J for a group hug, giggling happily, "That was the greatest adventure yet, thank you, all of you."

V giggled, "How about another? We could be pirates?"

N did a silly pirate voice and called out, "Avast! Captain Tessa, let us find treasure across the seven seas!"

J put her arm around Tessa and teased happily, "And I could be your first mate?"

The 11 year-old Tessa nodded happily, and soon she and her robot friends were on another make-believe adventure to make it through the rest of the time until dinner.

The End

[finnsbubblegum]

More Than Life (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, reference to smut, fluff, sweet joel, protective joel, violence, mentions of cannibalism, age gap (reader is in her 20s and Joel is in his 50s) (lmk if i missed any)

Summary (Series): You were popular in Jackson but you have been single your whole life. Despite many men flirting with you, you have never found your ideal type. Until one day, you saw Joel and you fell in love at first sight.  But he felt insecure.

Summary: Pov: You went to join Joel on patrol without his knowledge. Who knows what happens next?

Words count: 2k

A/N: This is part 6 for I Don’t Deserve You series. But it can also be read as a standalone. Hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

11.49

You were pacing back and forth in your living room waiting for Joel. 11 more minutes and your birthday would be over. You would be disappointed if you didn’t spend your birthday with him. Birthdays were always a thing for you, especially this was your first birthday since you were dating Joel. But on the other side, you were also worried that something bad happened. Which might be the reason why he was late. 

*knock on the door*

You ran to your door and opened it. 

“Sorry, I’m late.” Joel was panting. 

He looked really tired. You knew he came straight to your house right after patrol. He was full of sweat as he didn’t even have the time to take a shower.

“Thank God you’re here. I thought something bad happened to you.” You jumped to hug him.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He hugged you tight. You kissed him.

“I-Ugh-I didn’t have the time to take a shower. I’m dirty.” He put his hand behind his neck.

“I don’t care. What matters is that you’re here with me.” You took his hand and dragged him inside.

“I got you somethin’.” He took off his backpack.

“You got me a present?” Your eyes widened. You loved getting presents.

“Happy birthday, darlin’.” Joel took out something from his bag and gave it to you.

“A book? How did you get it?” You wondered.

“Found it at an abandoned house during patrol. Haven’t seen that one on your bookshelf. Thought you might like it. Heard it was a famous one.” 

“Jane Eyre?” You read the title and the summary behind the book.

“Interesting. I love it. Thank you so much, Joel.” You hugged him again and kissed him.

“You really need to stop hugging me now. I’m being self-conscious. I’m smelly.” He chuckled.

You didn’t care what he said. Instead, you moved closer to him and sniffed him like a puppy, teasing him.

“Stop it.” He laughed.

“Wish I could go out and find more books.” You started that conversation again.

“I’ll get you more when I go on patrol.” He sighed.

“But I-” Joel cut you.

“We’re not talking about this again. You know what my answer is. The answer is always no. End of conversation.” His expression changed from happy to angry.

You stayed quiet.

“Are we clear?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes.” You replied coldly.

“Repeat it.” 

“Clear.” You rolled your eyes.

You didn’t listen to Joel this time. Instead, you found Liam who was responsible for making the patrolling schedules. You asked him about Joel’s and you applied to join. You told him not to tell Joel as you were keeping this as a secret from Joel. You practiced your shooting skills until it was the day of your first patrol. 

“Why are you here?” Joel furrowed his brows.

“I’m here for patrol.” You acted dumb.

“What?” He raised his voice.

You avoided his eyes. 

“Did you not remember what I told you? How did you even-” 

“Well, it’s too late, Joel. I’m here now. I’ve prepared myself. I’ll be fine.” You insisted.

“Fine. Just stick with me. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir.”

You and Joel rode the same horse. You put your arms around his waist and rested your head on his back. That day, you went on groups with Joel, Noah, and Sam. Noah was the leader for the day.

“Okay, so we’re gonna split here. I’ll go check north with Joel. Sam, you go south with (y/n). We’ll meet here in 4 hours then we’ll go east and west.” Noah commanded.

“I’m sorry, Noah. But (y/n) needs to go with me. I need to keep my eye on her.” Joel added.

“I’m not a kid, Joel. I’ll go with Sam. We’ll meet you here.” You gestured to Sam to ride the horse with you.

Nothing bad happened while you were patrolling with Sam. You wondered why Joel didn’t allow you to patrol. Was he lying to you? You wondered why he wouldn’t let you see the beautiful nature outside Jackson walls. 

“Hi there!” Two men suddenly showed up.

Sam stopped the horse. You grabbed your gun and aimed at them. 

“We’re not a threat.” The strangers said.

You and Sam got off the horse and talked to them. You tied the horse at the tree.

“Can we help you?” Sam asked.

“Yes, we’re hungry. We have a group with us and we need something to eat.”

“Well, we don’t have food with us now. But we can get you something.” Sam answered.

“Or we can help you hunt here?” You added as you saw they didn’t look like they had any weapons.

“Sure, thank you so much.” 

Sam and you walked in front of them and turned into hunting mode. You had never hunted before so you just followed Sam. 

*Sam screamed*

You turned to look and you saw the two men stabbed Sam from behind. 

“Sam!” You looked at him as he fell to the ground. You grabbed your gun and aimed at the men.

“Back off!” You shouted.

“Easy, pretty girl. We’re not gonna kill you. We need your friend to fill our stomach. But you.. You’re pretty so you can give something else to us.” The stranger smirked.

“Go! Run! Get Joel and Noah!” Sam shouted.

You hesitated to leave him but you knew you couldn’t fight these two men alone. So you ran. Hoping Sam would still be alive when you got back there with help.

“Get her alive!” The stranger shouted at his friend.

Both of them ran behind you to catch you. You ran as fast as you could. Your friend’s life was on the line and so did yours. You ran and got to your horse. 

“Come on! Go!” You yelled at the horse and it ran. 

You ran north and you were losing them. It was a bit far until you saw Joel’s and Noah’s figure. 

“Joel! Joel!” You shouted.

“Did you hear that?” Noah asked Joel.

“What?” Joel was deaf one ear so he didn’t hear you.

“Joel! Help!” Your horse kept running.

“That’s (y/n)!” Noah looked back.

“Fuck!” Joel panicked.

You finally got to them. You immediately got off the horse and ran to Joel’s embrace. 

“What happened? Where’s Sam?” Noah panicked too.

“There’s-there’s some men- He’s hurt- We need to save him!” You screamed.

“Hey, hey. You okay? You hurt? Anythin’?” Joel checked you up and down.

You panted and shook your head. The three of you walked towards the south going back to save Sam.

“Oh my God. It’s them.” You saw the two men running near you.

“Stay behind me.” Joel shoved you behind him and got ready with his rifle. Noah did the same.

“My friend here told me you hurt our friend. Where is he?” Noah pointed his gun to the strangers.

“Easy, easy. We’re just here for the girl. Just give us the pretty girl and we’ll give you back your friend.” One of the strangers tried to bargain.

“Joel…” You pulled Joel’s shirt from the back.

He glanced at you for a second and looked back at the strangers.

“That’s not gonna happen.” He growled.

“What? Is she your daughter or something?” The other men scoffed.

“You better be careful of what you say next.” Joel’s blood boils. His grip on the rifle got tighter.

“All of us are men. I’m sure you know what we need. Especially that pretty girl right there has a fucking sexy body. She’s probably a slut that all of you have fucked. Why don’t you share with us?”

You were shaking. You were scared. You just understood why Joel insisted on you not going out for patrol. You should have listened to him in the first place. 

“You want to do this the hard way or the easy way?” Joel’s patience was running out.

“What’s that?” The stranger got cocky.

“I’ll let you go if you apologize to her right now.” Joel gave them an option.

“Or what?” The stranger laughed.

“Or this will be a bloodbath.” Joel gave them a death stare.

“Just apologize, man.” Noah was nervous. He knew what Joel was capable of.

“All of this just for the slut?” The stranger laughed.

*gunshot*

Joel couldn’t hold himself. He shot him at the leg. Noah fought the other guy.

“Apologize!” He yelled at the guy and pressed the wound.

“You’re not gonna kill me.” He was still cocky.

Joel shot him again at the other leg. 

“Fine! Fine! I’m sorry!” He cried.

“For what!” Joel yelled at his face.

“Sorry for calling you a slut!” He apologized while looking at you.

You flinched when Joel shot him at the head after he apologized. You were trembling and speechless. 

“No!” The other guy cried.

Joel's breathing was heavy and he looked to the other guy that Noah was holding. He shot him dead. 

“Joel! What the fuck!” Noah yelled.

“Let’s get Sam. Where is he?” Joel didn’t care he killed them. They were threats. 

“He-he-he’s there.” You guided Joel and Noah to Sam.

“Sam!” You ran to him.

“You’re gonna be okay. We’re safe now.” You cradled him.

The four of you went back to Jackson and got Sam help. Then you and Joel went home.

*Joel slammed the door*

You flinched. You were avoiding having conversation with Joel since what happened on patrol.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?!” Joel yelled at you.

Your hands started to shake. You had never seen him like this before.

“I told you it was dangerous! Why are you being so stubborn!” 

“I-I’m sorry.” You stepped back from him. Tears welling in your eyes.

“You’re never going anywhere closer to the gate. Ever! You hear me!” He raised his voice.

You nodded as you wiped your tears from your cheeks. 

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, looked up, closed his eyes, and sighed. He took a deep breath in and out trying to calm himself down. Meanwhile, you were just standing there frozen. You were too scared to move.

“Baby, I-I’m sorry.” He apologized.

You just nodded and kept crying. 

“Come here.” He stepped closer to hug you but you instinctively stepped back.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I would never hurt you.” He slowly walked closer and hugged you.

“I just-I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve lost the people I loved and I don’t want to lose one again. I swear on my life, I will never fall in love again. Not after losing Sarah, Sarah’s mom, Tess. Losing someone I love is the last thing I want to have in this fucked up world. But then I met you. You changed me. You make me believe that there’s still hope. Love. Happiness. I will protect you with my life no matter what happens. I love you more than my life. You should know that.” He stroked your head up and down.

You started sobbing and hyperventilating at his words.

“I love you, too.” You mumbled at his chest. 

Joel cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. He looked at you through your eyes as his thumb wiped your tears from your cheeks.

“Are we cool now?” His voice was now softer.

You nodded and rested your head on his chest. 

The night carried on with you and Joel having make-up sex in your bedroom.

Joel groaned as he fell on top of you catching his breath. He came inside you. 

“Did you just cum inside me?” Your hands were resting on his back.

Joel froze for a second.

“You forgot to pull out.” You repeated.

“Shit.” He got up and sat facing you as you propped yourself with your elbow facing him.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“I mean-You gotta have a lot of sex to get pregnant right?” You needed assurance from him.

Having a child and being a mother was always your dream. That was why you chose to teach kids. But this was not how you wanted to have kids. You didn’t want to have kids by mistake. You wanted to have kids when both partners agreed.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” He assured you.

“I’m sorry.” Joel put his hand on his forehead and apologized again.

“It’s okay.” 

“You have to tell me if something happens okay?” 

“You mean if I get pregnant.” You smirked.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” 

“Okay.”

To be continued…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @stevengmybeloved @happinessinthebeing @angelicbbsblog @aheadfullofsteverogers @mxtokko @bebe07011

[naturesapphic]

gonna request some cowgirl!wanda x gn!reader where she comes by reader's house on horseback and r is completely in love with her

New partner in town

Cowgirl!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff and cowgirl!wanda being a complete sweetheart

It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was out and there was a bit of wind to keep down the heat. You were out of your house, tending to the animals when you hear horse hooves in the distance coming your way. You looked up confused and saw a girl you’ve never met before, riding a beautiful black midnight horse. Your breath got caught in your throat at the beauty that his random woman shows and you felt your knees weaken when she stops near you.

She steps off the horse and walks over to you, giving you a friendly smile. “Well howdy there sugar. My name is Wanda. Wanda maximoff.” She said sweetly and held out her hand to shake yours. “It’s nice to meet you Wanda. I’m guessing you are new here in town?” You asked her as you shake her soft yet firm hand and give her a shy smile which she slightly smirks at. “I sure am. My family and I moved here from Louisiana.” She said as she put her thumbs in her front pockets, giving you a sweet smile that makes your knees buckle.

“That’s great! What brings y’all down here?” You questioned softly and she gave you a small smile. “We wanted to start over…our farm didn’t do well and we needed new land and a whole new place where we could. So we decided to move here and I’m glad we did…or else I wouldn’t meet a sweet thing like yourself.” Wanda winked which caused you to blush red like a apple. A sudden barking interrupted y’all’s conversation and your dog comes running up to Wanda wagging his tail at her. “Well who’s this?” Wanda smiled as she bent down and started petting him. “This is butter nut squash, but we call him butternut, butter, nut, or sometimes shithead.” You said sheepishly as Wanda let out a huge belly laugh.

“That’s an adorable name. Cute and adorable just like her mama.” Wanda said smirking as you shifted in your spot nervously. Wanda stood up and looked down on her watch which caused her to slightly frown. “I hate to run but I’m supposed to help my pa and brother with some chores. I’ll see you later yeah? I’m down a few miles away from your house if you ever want to stop by sugar.” Wanda winked and took a bow while taking off her hat in the process. “I’ll see you later darling.” She stated and went back on her horse and rode away. You just stood there, mesmerized by her. Fuck.

A/n: I didn’t exactly know how to end it sofmdkdkd but I hope y’all enjoy the first imagine of cowgirl!wanda. Requests are open for her and for my other characters I write. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here’s my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all!

[sweetvelaryon]

[jaceluke]

[modern!au]

[smut, murder]

[words : 10637]

[song inspired — CARNIVAL BY ¥$, Kanye West, Ty Dolla $ign, Rich the Kid, Playboi Carti —  Carousel by Melanie Martinez]

[ full oneshot available: Wattpad: @sxarletdevil

book name: LUCERYS VELARYON

ONESHOT NAME: twin flames ]

——————————————————

Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffery all walked through the carnival, cold air nipping at their pink cheeks. it was a rare occasion to see the Velaryon brothers out and about. Jace had just returned from a long trip in Pentos, while Lucerys ran the long awaited Targaryen and Velaryon business. his mother being CEO of Targaryen Corp and his father Laenor being CEO to Driftmark Enterprises had him busy. Now that Jacaerys was back the work load would be less. Joffery was only seven but pressure was already starting to build in the young boy. it was still undecided if Joffery would take Luke's place as future CEO of Velaryon Enterprises or if he would be moved to Strong Industries. there was no doubt between the brothers each would be a CEO for the rest of their lives.

their parents were on a business trip which it really wasn't. it was more of a visiting trip to their senile grandfather, Viserys. their mother, her wife and three husbands would be gone for the rest of the upcoming week. they took their many siblings trusting Jace and Luke can handle the little work things and care for Joffery. it wasn't the time they had been left alone with their younger brother but it would be the first with the three of them together. Jace kept stealing glances at his lovely brother beside him. the moonlight gave an ethereal shine to his soft, pale skin.

"wanna ride the carousel?" Luke asked joffery as they walked past the ride.

"no! I'm not a child luce." he quickly spoke as he went in line for a rollercoaster.

"aww, but I remember you loving the carousel," Jace teased as they got in line.

"yeah, when I was like four or three," Joffery replied.

"apologies my dear CEO," Luke gave a bow to the young boy hearing Jace laugh beside him. "tell me how you would like you coffee, black or with three creams and sugar?"

joffery rolled his eyes, "ha ha, you know I like my apple juice in the mornings."

the brothers rode rollercoasters, played games winning stuff animals, and eating deep fried Oreos. as they were leaving joffery stopped behind them. Jace and Luke turned to the small boy, confused.

joffery clutched his dragon stuff animal - that he named Tyraxes - his doe eyes looked shinny in the moonlight, "can we ride the carousel?"

Lucerys smiled softly at him before looking to Jacaerys, "of course." the carnival was pretty empty so no one was staring at the odd trio as Jace helped Joffery up on the horse and Luke still a child at heart got on the one beside him. Jace stood in the middle between them, leaning against Luke as the carousel went round and round. it got unspeakably hot between the elder brothers as the both kept stealing glances at one another.

Jace hoped Joffery wouldn't notice. the last thing he needed on his already full plate was his brother blabbing away about how his brothers look at each other with something more than kindness and fondness. on the way back home Luke sat in the front seat, Joffery was sound asleep in the back. soft music played through the speakers of the BMW. Lucerys looked over to Jace seeing he was solely focused on the road. his eyes carefully trailed down his clothing, expensive black trench coat he only wears if it's necessary, the white button up shirt underneath is no doubt Prada. his long curly, brown hair was pulled back in a man bun. his eyes go to his hand on the steering wheel, veiny and strong. the urge to reach and touch his other hand was too alluring. to feel the warmth of his blood and flesh against his soft putty hands. his felt his cheeks warm at the thoughts that fuled his fantasies. he quickly looked away before he noticed. no doubt he probably had already noticed.

when they finally arrived to the lovely mansion, Dragonstone. Lucerys unlocking the front door and picking up the toys that littered the front door. "ugh, egg and vis," he complained.

jacaerys just chuckled as he fixed his hold on his surprisingly heavy brother. "glass of wine?" Luke asked him softly as he was making his way up the stairs.

"wine sounds good," Jace answered.

Lucerys shrugged off his blue coat and hung it up on the hanger before heading into the living room. he continued kicking and pushing toys to the large toy box before turning on the furnace and settling wood in it. the warm fire illuminated the massive living room and heated up the cold house. Luke went to the wine room next door picking his favorite of Westrosi red wine. which conveniently was his mother's and grandmother's favorite. he grabbed two glasses and went back to the living room. Jacaerys had descended downstairs and was hanging his trench coat up.

yep, Prada.

Lucerys placed the glasses on the glass table and popped open the wine. Jace watched him carefully as he poured the red liquid into the cups. the bright red blouse he wore was perfectly shaped to his figure and gave a perfect sight of his breast underneath. the tight, black business pants gave business while the top half gave slutty. the gold eating gave a touch of elegancy and thr ring on his pinky with the Velaryon sigil. he had one exactly like his but his ring was a bit bigger and had the Targaryen sigil. the three dragons that once represented the family Targaryen power. at least that's the stories his mother would tell him. Luke handed him the glass of wine, he reached out and grabbed it letting his fingers touch his brothers. he noticed his brother staring at him before and he now noticed his cheeks flush bright red. Lucerys gave him a smile before sitting down with his own glass of wine. jacaerys watched him take off his Red Bottom heels and toss them to the side.

"those are expensive," Jace commented at his carelessness.

"I can always buy more," he replied bringing the red wine to his lips. the pair stayed quiet as they basked in the warmth of the roaring fire and heat of the red wine melting it's way in their veins.

Lucerys was the first to speak up, "did mother already tell you?"

"tell me what?" Jacaerys looked at him confused.

he scoffed as he sipped his wine, "of course she didn't. a marriage purposely has been made to Hightower Enterprises. more like they made it to us but, our lovely uncle Aemond Targaryen might be my new husband."

Jace tried to hide the complete disappointment and hatred written on his face but it was all there. it was bad enough Aemond was obsessed with Luke after their incident. "how soon?" he asked.

how much time do I have to save you from this shit wedding? don't tell me there's no time. I shouldn't had went on that stupid business trip. fuck. no I refuse to be second to him again.

"a week." Luke answered.

a fucking week. was our lovely mother ever going to tell me?

"how long have you known?" jacaerys asked as he leaned forward to his brother.

"three months," he answered, a pained expression painted in his blue eyes.

I have a week to ruin and save you. I know you don't want to get married. at least not to that psychopath.

"I have something for you," Jace put his glass down and stood up. Luke felt a tinge of disappointment from not getting a declaration of love or a future rescue from his brother. he didn't expect his brother to just ignore it. he drowned the rest of the red wine and poured another glass. Jacaerys finally came back and held his hand to Luke. Lucerys stood up his fingers gently caressing the necklace in his brothers hand. the metal steel felt familiar as if it was from a distance land. his fingers go over the red ruby in the center held by a disk-like steel.

"it's beautiful, Jace," he gushed as he continued to touch the jewelry. his brother snatched it back pulling him out of the trance, "turn around."

god, why do you look so fuckable? Aemond can't have you. so much innocence. so much perfectness.

the fire warmed the living room more as Luke swallowed thickly and turned around. the demand of Jace's cold voice made his body hum in a pleasureable response. his body shuddered as he felt Jace press against him from behind and his breathing gently caressing the back of his neck. he slightly gasped as the cold chain was placed around his neck and clasped onto him. he felt Jace press his hand to the little skin the blouse allowed to be revealed. his hot skin burned with the touch and more so when he felt his brother's lips gently kiss the sensitive skin of his neck. Jace feeling the soft skin of his brother beneath his lips made him drunker then the red wine he hated but knew how much his brother loved. he felt luke lean back to his warmth and ever so softly whimper at the feeling.

"we have a busy week ahead of us. we should get some sleep," Jace spoke up utterly ruining the moment between them.

Lucerys tried to hide the disappointment in his voice as he grabbed his glass of wine, "of course."

Jace hated acting that way to him but it would work out in the end. he hoped.

MONDAY

jacaerys opened his eyes to a pitch black room. it was always like this and that's how he liked it. he didn't want to know if it was 8 a.m. or 3 p.m. the only reason he woke up is because of the music playing downstairs. even in the large mansion everything can be heard. he grabbed his phone and read the time.

7:30 a.m.

he frowned and got up from his bed slipping on his slippers and walking downstairs. he should've grabbed a shirt before leaving the room but he had already decended downstairs to the kitchen. he immediately recognized the song playing HUMBLE by Kendrick Lamar and the rappers Lucerys and Joffery. he leaned against the frame as joffery and Luke both still in pajamas made breakfast. joffery was in a spider man pajamas and Luke in a satin blue robe. he looked over at the table seeing Joffery's backpack and lunch packed.

"I'm sure their aren't other seven year olds listening to Kendrick Lamar at seven in the morning," jacaerys announced.

Lucerys turned to his brother and nearly stopped breathing. his cheeks flushed bright red as he turned away from the godly sight of his brother shirtless.

"joffery get dressed," Luke ushered him off.

the boy ran passed his brother and upstairs to dress. Luke flipped the French toast and poured a cup of coffee for Jace. Jace walked over to him and stood beside the stove.

"black. I assume," Lucerys smiled softly at him, handing the mug.

"you assume correctly," he replied.

Jacaerys watched Luke take the French toast and put more in the pan whilst flipping the sausage links. "what's on the agenda today?" he asked. his purple eyes went to necklace around his neck.

"I'm dropping joffery off at school and I have a meeting at Driftmark Enterprises with the Greyjoys. you have a meeting with the Martells," Luke told him.

Jace frowned, "Martells? I thought they hated us Targaryens."

"maybe they want a change or something. don't fuck it up, per moms request. I have to pick up our suits for Friday's gala. so you pick up Joffery up from soccer practice. what do you want for dinner?" he asked.

"gala Friday? that won't be for mentioning your wedding, will it?" jacaerys asked.

say no. say no. say no.

"it's not. that will be Saturday because the wedding will for short and sweet. like my life." he replied.

knew better / forever boy by Ariana grande started playing. Luke had turned off the stove and put the remaining dishes in the sink. jacaerys reached out, letting his hands slowly caress his hips and waist and turning him around. Luke's cheeks were flushed as he turned to face him. his nipples pebbled through the silk robe. "I have a week to ruin your wedding and I plan to make you mine. I'll win you over rightful so." he told him.

Luke softly giggled at him before Jace pushed his lips to him. Lucerys pulled away and jacaerys was confused. he thought Luke wanted this and clearly he read the room wrong. Lucerys noticed the confusion and laughed again, "I'll kiss you again after you brush your teeth."

Jace rolled his eyes pressed his head down onto lukes shoulder. "are you two done? I want my breakfast," Joffery announced.

"shit we're gonna be late. give Joffery some food I have to dress," Luke ran up the stairs to his room.

Jacaerys turned to grab a plate and fed his brother. "you think you can beat uncle Aemond for Luke's endless love?" joffery asked as Jace put a plate down in front of him and maple syrup.

"what makes you think I can't?" Jace asked him.

"I know Aemond is like not right in the head but Lucerys likes that. he likes the obsessiveness. I noticed it because he does it a lot when your around. he likes to be desired." joffery explained to his older brother.

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes at him, "stop reading fanfiction."

joffery laughed.

Lucerys ran down the stair putting on his YSL heels and grabbing his coat, "Joffery you done? we're late!"

joffery shoved the last bit of french toast and grabbed his stuff. "see you later Jace and don't forget to pick Joffery up after soccer practice!"

Luke and joffery were out the door leaving Jace to the music still playing in the kitchen. walk em like a dog by saucy Santana played. he laughed at himself before eating and getting dressed.

Luke's heels clicked on the marble floor as he entered the building High Tide and made his way to his office. hours passed and he wasn't even focused during the meeting. he played with his pen, the memory of Jace's lips on his echoing.

"Mr Velaryon?" Celine spoke to him.

he snapped out of his thoughts, "sorry I wasn't listening. repeat what you said Dalton."

"uh, well my company would like to settle in with you for investments into the Stepstones. we can very much use the channels there," he explained.

"no." he answered.

"no?" dalton repeated.

"did I studder?" Lucerys snapped at him.

"I don't understand. why not?" he asked.

"we found the Stepstones first and it was my grandfather, Corlys that wished it to stay Velaryon territory. so unfortunately for you and other companies I will not be opening to investing factors to those channels." Luke answered.

"you won't make money that way," dalton retorted.

"it's not always about making money, Mr. Greyjoy," Lucerys replied with a fakest of smiles he could conjure up.

his receptionist, Claire, knocked on his door and poked her head in, "apologies, Mr Velaryon you have a visitor."

Luke clenched his jaw as he closed his folder, "if any other questions call or send an email. don't waste my time next time."

he walked out the room and followed claire to his office. before he went in he held a finger up to her, perfectly manicured and with a gold ring wrapped around the digit, "interrupt another meeting and you're done. that's a second strike."

"it won't happen again sir," she gave a sharp nod before walking off. he opened his door finding his silver haired fiance in his chair with legs propped up on his desk.

"there's my lovely future wife," Aemond smiles at him.

"get your disgusting feet off my desk." he says as he walked past him and to the folders on the edge of the desk.

"oh, my love, is that a way to greet your husband," he says reaching for his hand but Luke had already moved spot.

"you're not my husband yet. what do you want aemond? I'm busy," Luke says still not paying him much attention.

"dinner. tonight." he says putting his feet on the ground and walking towards him.

"I can't. my mom's out on a trip and Jace and I are taking care of Joffery," Lucerys replied.

Aemond stopped his movements as soon as he heard Jace's name. "Jace is back?"

Luke looks up at him, seeing his violet eye was now darker than usual, "he knows of our proposal if that's what your wondering."

"just you, Jace, and Joffery in that big mansion, huh," he says, his fingers digging into the seat in front of him.

"listen, Aemond, thank you for visiting but I have other meetings and things to do." Luke tempted to usher him out.

"when can I stop by and visit?" he asked.

"Aemond for fuck sake I'll be seeing you this weekend for the public announcement and at the Gala Friday. please leave." Lucerys told him again. Aemond reached out and grabbed his hand pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. no more words were exchanged as he left leaving Luke to the silence of his office.

Lucerys slumped in his chair letting a sigh escape his tired body. it was late when he finally got home. he carried three suits over his shoulder as he opened the front door and the sound of pans clattering around echoed in the kitchen.

"I'm home!" he yelled as shut the door behind him.

"luce!" joffery ran in from the kitchen and smacked his body into his.

"oof! okay, okay, calm down I saw you this morning," Luke hugged him back. "here take these upstairs to my room."

joffery ran upstairs with the bag of suits while Luke walked into the kitchen. Jace held his arms out, he wore Laenor's apron which said kiss the cook, a cocky smile on his lips, "I made dinner!"

"please tell me everything is properly cooked and we won't get food poisoning," Luke raised an eyebrow at him as he went to warm pots filled with food.

"I'm not that much of an awful cook," Jace took much offense as Luke mixed the pasta sauce and tasted it.

a satisfied moan left his lips, that moan going straight to Jace's cock, "it's not bad."

"you wanna kiss the cook in real thanks?" Jace asked as he leaned in just a tad bit more to Luke.

"to boost your ego?" Lucerys asked with a toothy smile as he wrapped his arms around him. his heels giving him the perfect height to his brother.

"no, just because I want to kiss you," Jace replied.

Lucerys leaned in and took his brothers lips in his. he tangled his hands in between his curls giving them a slight tug. jace's hands gently rested on his waist before sliding down his ass and giving a gentle slap and squeeze.

"not in front of my food!" joffery screamed causing both of them to quickly pull apart.

Luke's cheeks flushed a deep red as Jace cleared his throat and went back to mixing his food. "your food will be just fine Joff. did you do your homework?"

"how can I after what I just witnessed?" he spoke dramatically.

"quit being such a drama queen," Luke told him as he made the boy sit down and started setting the plates. dinner went by quickly and joffery easily put out to bed.

Jace sat in the family office room running numbers while Lucerys looked over the blueprints for a proper warehouse in the Stepstones. Jacaerys stopped looking at the computer and was just staring at Luke. he admired the hell out of his brother. the way his fingers traced every little detail on blueprints, his pen circling whatever he didn't like or needed to moved, his blue eyes scanned the paper over and over again, he whispered to himself helping himself think, the way his brows were furrowed together to show he was truly concentrating. focus, ambition, and cunning were words to describe the man in front of him. even in black suit pants and white blouse. the necklace from yesterday still sat proudly on his neck.

"are you done or are you going to keep staring?" Luke asked not taking his eyes off the blueprint.

"I like the view," Jacaerys replied.

blue eyes snapped to his and clearly he wasn't in the mood. "I'm off to bed. don't stay up to late. I have an early meeting and you need to take Joffery to school."

"hey, how bout we go to dinner tomorrow? you, me, and Joff?" jacaerys asked as he watched his brother grab his heels off the floor.

"sure you want me to meet you at the restaurant?" Luke asked.

"nah, come home and we'll go together," Jace replied.

"okay, good night."

"good night."

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part eleven

pairing: (hinted) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: netural

el's thoughts: this was the hardest part to write... and the shortest haha but it's here and done so there ya go. please remember to comment and reblog :)

masterlist

The wind made Y/N’s hair dance wildly around her as she leaned her hip against the side of the ship. She had heard all about the uprising privateer’s flying ship but had never got the chance to be abroad. Her eyes closed as she relaxed at the feeling of the cold wind around her. She felt free and untethered while in the air, the same feeling she had felt the first time she rode her horse across the palace grounds. 

She circled around to look across the deck of the ship, mentally doing a head count of everyone on board. Nina stood beside Inej listening to whatever the suli spoke of with much interest. Jesper and Wylan were glued to each other's sides while they looked out at the water, pointing every once in a while to a fish they saw. Toyla stood at the wheel while Zoya paced the quarter-deck before waving her hands every so often to push the ship a bit faster. Kaz sat on the steps up to the quarter-deck with his leg stretched out in front of him, they made eye contact for a moment before Y/N smiled gently and looked away.

“Catch me!” The small voice was heard over the strong autumn winds that blew around them as the young child threw themselves into Y/N’s arms. She laughed and spun her brother around the best a ten-year-old could do to a six-year-old. 

“Oooh a stowaway on my ship?” She bounced him onto her hip to keep him up. He shook his head fervently as peels of laughter fell from his small pink lips. “You know what I do to stowaways?” She spoke in a loud voice making it deeper to fit the character she acted out. The little boy laughed louder, “No! No! Please!” 

“I’m sorry, young man, but it must be done!” She giggled as she tossed him into the giant pile of leaves their father gathered that morning. They both laughed louder as she threw herself down next to him.

The familiar clicking of a cane sounded from behind her and dragged her out of her memory. She didn’t need to turn around to feel him stand behind her. 

“You look better.” His voice was clipped but still seemed kind. Kind enough when coming from the bastard of the barrel that is. 

She scoffed, “What did I look bad before?”

Kaz shrugged, and the corner of his lips quirked upward. “You look healthy.”

She turned bashful now knowing the fact that he noticed her lack of strength the last few days. “I feel better… Must’ve been the hallucination, honestly.” 

“What did your toxin trip reveal to you?” He leaned closer on his cane, hardly noticeable but her sharp eyes caught it—the curiosity in his eyes. The same tiny spark of hope that she felt in her chest reflected in his eyes. But before she could give in and tell him what she saw in the hallucinations the Darkling’s voice echoed in her mind again. And instead of sharing and being open, taking the same step he did, the words that tumbled out of her mouth were the words that had been repeated to her all throughout her years at the Little Palace. 

“Hope is dangerous. Clouds your judgment.”

She didn’t tell him what she saw, how could she? She hardly knows this man despite the fact that her brain thought otherwise. She knows more about him than he knows of her. She’s pieced together some of his past and her heart ached for him. Life wasn’t fair and it was obvious in both of their lives. 

Y/N turned to look up at him as he leaned on the railing beside her. The need to tell him had come back and only grew stronger when she noticed the same curiosity across his face. “The Darkling. That’s who I saw.” It wouldn’t hurt to share some of it. “Reminding me of everything I could never have despite my childish wishes and dreams.” 

“From where we stood it looked like he reminded you just how powerful you are as well.”

She shook her head, “He reminded me of the monster he made me.”

“The Phoenix is hardly viewed as a monster. From what I’ve heard you’re just as much a Saint as the sun summoner. The most powerful inferni to walk the earth.” Kaz didn’t look at her as he spoke, only kept his eyes trained on the sea below them, his voice was almost teasing.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be known as powerful because of my gift or- or because of the Darkling, or because of fear. I… I want to be powerful because I moved forward despite the odds. If people were to fear me, I want them to fear the name I built for myself.” She squeezed the rail under her hand. “I envy you for that reason… if I were to speak honestly.”

This caused him to look down at her, confusion swam in his eyes.

“You created a name for yourself, a name that brings people to their knees.” The pair smirked at the memory of the Dime Lions’ gambling den. “Literally.” 

A warm feeling grew in Y/N’s chest at the easiness of the conversation. There was nothing strange or awkward about talking to him, she felt like she could tell him anything even though she knew it was best not to. She wondered if he felt the same ease of the conversation or if it was all just in her head, but from the look in his eyes and his relaxed shoulders, it was safe to assume he felt it. 

“It’s fake.” A dark look flashed over Kaz’s face as the words fell from his lips. “My name, it’s fake.”

Y/N only nodded, moving so her back was against the handrail. “Kaz is a fake name?”

“Brekker.” His eyes met her’s for a moment before looking away. “Brekker is a fake name.”

She hummed, “We all do things for reasons only we know.” Twisting her fingers around each other, she sighed. “There are plenty of things I’ve done that if I had taken the time to actually think it through… I wouldn’t have made those choices, but in the end I’m standing here today and I wouldn’t be if I hadn’t made thoes choices. So, I wouldn’t change anything.”

“I wouldn’t-” Kaz was interrupted by Toyla shouting that they made it. Inej, Nina and Zoya all walked to one side, waiting for Y/N. 

The inferni gave Kaz a tight smile, “Well, I’m off.” She pulled her shoulders back as she walked to where the other girls stood waiting. 

Kaz watched in astonishment as the girl with whom he had just carried an intimate conversation with slipped back into the formal behavior that came with being a soldier. It was as if she had put back on a stoic and formal front, slipping back into her all too familiar mask. It was as if Y/N had only allowed herself a short break from such a pretense for those few private moments with him.

~*~*~*~

taglist:@rachelcarroll1819 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @khaleesihavilliard @simrah1012 @foulkryptonitepeanut @astridyoo15 @queenofshinigamis @peakyispunk @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @winstonthecow22 @lee-says-things @bunneex @writingmysanity @sleepynightchild @madnessinwrighting @romanticvampire

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Saying Grace

Tommy and grace visit her family before the wedding. He gets taught what saying grace at dinner means. Now he has a plan. Don't interreact if under 18. Smut

________________________________________________________

Saying Grace

Every experience Tommy had up until then didn’t fail to make him as nervous as this.

Grace's family had invited him to Galloway for an engagement celebration dinner. They were staying three days.

Charlie fussed most of the ride which hadn’t helped Tommy's nerves. Grace had also mentioned that her brothers had fought in the war.

Calvary. He snorted in disapproval. “Fought, when?” was all he said. She hadn't brought it up again. He remembered how useless they’d been during the Somme and Verdun. “The Calvary as as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike, Grace.” She laughed and lightly punched his arm. The analogy amused him too. He’d have to remember to tell John that one.

Grace, Charlie and Tommy had just gotten settled into the large manor house twice the size as his in the countryside. Grace's mum had burst into the room to hold the baby. She didn’t say two words to Tommy but he could understand her wanting to see her first grandchild from her only daughter.

The day dragged on not getting any less awkward. He tried staying out of the way just enjoying wandering around looking at the family history. He really only cared about one person's background if he was being honest.

He’d loved to see Grace's old dolls, ribbons and various accolades from school. He always knew she was highly intelligent. He loved seeing paintings and portraits of her growing up. His favorite had been her horse pictures. She’d never told him she showed horses and rode. He was so proud to call her his.

And he’d been right. She was a posh girl.

“You haven’t stopped smiling since we got here. Trying to uncover my deepest darkest secrets?” She whispered seductively in his ear and she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

He chuckled and reached behind him holding her closer.

“I love seeing these awards and portraits of your accomplishments. You never tell me these things Grace.” His voice was deep but calm. He was in her personal space. He was at home.

“It's not polite to brag about them and honestly it was so long ago.” she mussed and grinned, rocking them both side to side to only music she could hear. The fact that she’d won a singing competition for all of Ireland was the most impressive accolade in her collection.

“We’ll for what it's worth. I’m proud.” He bent his head to the side and placed a kiss on her temple.

“Thank you.” She blushed and kissed his jaw. A sharp knock at the door and an announcement for dinner pulled them away from each other, at least for now.

____________________________________________________________________

Dinner was interesting. He was getting used to the high life at his manor but he swore some of the Calvary members of her family were going above and beyond to make him uncomfortable.

Little barbs about Birmingham streets, gypsy living and silly things here and there. Nothing Thomas hadn’t ever heard before. It was annoying that they lacked creativity to their insults honestly.

Dinner was served and everyone but him and of course the baby bowed their heads.

“Tommy, we have to pray.” Grace's mother closed her eyes, bowed her head and held her hands out for everyone to join with the person next to them. He raised an eyebrow and closed his eyes while smiling because Grace glared at him.

“Don't know how the gypsies do it but we call it saying Grace.” James, Grace’s annoying little brother who had missed out on the war by a year had to pipe up.

“It's done before every meal.” Her grandmother spoke next. Tommy hoped Grace's eyes were closed. He tried clearing his throat but a laugh escaped instead. She squeezed his hand tighter as a warning.

He laughed out loud and tried not to stifle it but he couldn't help himself. He has to explain why later…or rather show her why it was so funny.

“I’m sorry, go ahead and say Grace.” He cleared his throat again and closed his eyes lost in his thoughts

_____________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry about dinner.” He stood watching her sit on her bed unbuckling her dinner shoes. She tossed them into the closet and sat back grinning at him.

“Tommy, why did you laugh before prayer? I know you aren't a protestant or catholic but…I'm confused.” Her eyes darted around his face trying to understand. It was out of character for him.

“We’ll posh girl, I have an answer to that, but I told you I'd have to show you.” He grinned wickedly at her as she stood before her and spread her legs to stand in between them. He bent down, getting on his knees in front of her.

They both knew what was coming next.

Tommy grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him. She twisted so she could unhook her garters to help him. His strong calloused hands reached up and pulled down her panties. He didn’t need to remove anything else.

He kissed and nipped at her inner thighs to her knees. He was teasing her but he loved to get her worked up. It was worth the rush of pleasure for her. He didn’t care about himself at this point. This was all for her.

“Oh, I forgot.” Tommy pulled back and closed his eyes.

“What are you doing Tommy?” Grace's tone was laced with confusion. Was he praying!?

“I have to say grace right, that's what a proper man does before a meal.” They both chuckled but her eyes danced with desire. She should have known why he laughed at dinner. His humor and quick wit was stunningly quick.

He licked, sucked and ate her thoroughly until she came screaming and panting his name like a prayer.

“Oh God, Tommy.” He pulled back satisfied with his work. His smirk made her wet all over again. She knew they weren’t done for the night.

“Now, that's a prayer I would mean and happily get on my knees for penance.” He laughed and stood, leaning over top of her he bent down and let her taste herself on his tongue.

She eagerly rose up to meet his passionate kiss. Her hands undid the buttons to his vest and slipped it down, tossing it somewhere by the foot of her childhood bed.

He never broke the kiss as he unbuttoned his shirt tossing it where she decided their clothes were going. She quickly stripped him of his pants as he pulled off her dress. He didn’t care if it was ripped. She could afford another one. They were both almost animalistic at this point. Her nails gently drug down his back only to leave harder nips and love bites on his neck and shoulders. She even bit his lip at one point pulling him in closer. He of course had to lean in and deepen the kiss.

His thrusts were building up and getting more erratic. She crested into the orgasm just before he did.

Maybe being here wasn’t such a bad thing he thought as they both rolled over into one another breathing heavily.

Not if he could use her family's words to defile her in her bedroom for the next few days.

_________END_________________________________