#i….. would be okay with them being cowboys

[moeitsu]

for the ask game :)

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon. But could you give us more on your chubby Arthur HC? I need more of that! Like right now! (But no rush, I just love big boy Arthur as much as you do)  🙏❣️

Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh I would absolutely love to dive into more chubby!Arthur HC's. He is so dear to me.

I got carried away with this, and sorta poured my heart into it. It’s basically just a love letter to my favorite husky cowboy <3

WC: ~3k

TW: self-esteem issues, body dysmorphia, ED, alcoholism, some NSFW at the end so minors beware.

I also want to add, these are all just personal self-indulgent headcanons. So some might seem ooc. Take it up with the council if that bothers you :)

When I say chubby/fat Arthur I mean that with my full chest. I'm talking a big boy— a soft curved belly, thighs as big as tree trunks, and a smooth jawline.

I want to point out, muscle and fat are not mutually exclusive. He can be fat and incredibly strong.

Standing at 6'0", Arthur is already an imposing figure. His healthy weight in the game is around 210-220 lbs, but let’s add 30 more—making him a solid 250 lbs (give or take).

Even in the game, his healthy weight would still be considered a giant of a man for that time period. So keep that in mind.

Most of that weight? Pure muscle. Beneath his soft exterior are abs of steel, and those biceps could crush skulls and give the best hugs.

He is simply just a very husky man.

Deeply, deeply insecure as all hell about his weight though. Especially with you.

Especially in the bedroom.

Arthur knows he is strong and muscular, but he fixates on the “softness” of his body. Believing it makes him less capable and less desirable.

But more personally, it serves as a constant reminder of his failures and guilt.

The gang’s comments about his appetite and size don’t help. He pretends not to care, but every jab chips away at his confidence.

He’s often seen as the "muscle," a human shield, or an intimidating force, hearing terms like “big oaf” and “dumb brute” far too often.

Absolutely hates the way his presence fills a small room.

These insecurities run so deep that Arthur refuses to take his shirt off in front of others. Always making excuses to keep it on.

His body is marked by lots of stretch marks. They trace around his sides, under his belly, thighs and shoulders. He’s grateful that his body hair covers most of them.

Some are so deep they’ve become scars.

Hyper aware and very self-conscious of them. He thinks they’re a sign of weakness and being too “soft”.

Always avoids looking at himself in the mirror. He struggles with feeling undesirable as it is, and his body only adds to that torment.

Arthur has an unhealthy relationship with food and struggles with control. His eating habits are tied closely to his emotions.

He tends to overeat to cope with intense stress, loneliness and guilt. Food is used as a comfort in these moments—but he doesn’t enjoy it.

Trying to fill an emotional void rather than physical hunger.

At other times, food feels like a reminder of his lack of control. And he deprives himself of a meal or two. Using hunger as a punishment.

Alcohol has played a part in his weight too.

Often seeking its numbness to drown out the hunger and the noise of his own thoughts.

The heavy drinking dulls his appetite and gives him an excuse to skip meals.

Though he’s known to engage in binge cycles when things start to get really bad. Overindulging in both food and alcohol to the point where he’s physically sick and emotionally raw.

Moments like this tend to isolate him from the gang. He’s unwilling to face questions and judgement so he withdraws and wanders off.

Sometimes he feels more confident after having a drink or two, the alcohol dulling his self consciousness. He hates himself for needing it, and when the false confidence fades he feels exposed.

Okay goddamn those were really sad, moving on now!

Arthur worries that his size intimidates women. Some admire his strength, while others hurl insults, leaving him to quietly fear his body might never be truly loved.

He’s too big, too rough, too much.

Sweats a lot too, he can’t help it. He’s hyper aware of his odor when he hasn’t had the time for a proper wash. And feels immensely embarrassed when other people comment on it or make a face.

Spends a lot of time comparing himself to other men. Especially ones more “acceptable” in the eyes of a woman.

Because of his size and his looks he goes out of his way to be gentle and soft-spoken around women.

(^^^this especially is so so so canon to me. He is ALWAYS respectful and gentle with women)

Constantly aware of his own strength, and oftentimes has to reel himself in so he doesn’t unintentionally hurt somebody.

Arthur is

without a doubt

the sweetest gentle giant when you get to know him.

It will take time, but when he finds a woman who accepts his body, he can be a very loving partner.

He sees you as something he can protect and comfort and care for. Someone who needs him not for his size, but for his heart.

Feeling comfortable in his own skin around you is one of the greatest things you could ever give him.

Very touch starved (ill talk more on that later) and loves to give you the softest warmest hugs.

Regardless of his reputation, he has very tender hands. Whether he’s sketching you in delicate strokes, petting his horse’s neck, tracing his thumb over your cheek, or holding your baby.

The same hands that safely cradle you every night.

Despite his relationship with food, cooking and eating are still things he genuinely enjoys.

Love to hunt and cook over an open flame. Nothing better than the taste of woodsmoke in fresh meat.

He also loves to share his food. He will always make sure you have enough to eat, and even offer his own plate if you are still hungry.

It brings him great joy to be able to provide for you.

Let’s move on to some silly sweet and smutty ones shall we? ;)

The fastest way to this man’s heart is when you cook for him.

Especially baked goods. Bake him a sweet homemade apple-pie with a thick vanilla cream on top and he's getting you pregnant. going to marry you.

You could literally be an idiot sandwhich in the kitchen and he would still praise your cooking through the roof.

Why? Because he’s already head over heels in love with you for making the effort.

He also has a huge sweet tooth. Peppermint candies are his kryptonite.

Arthur’s laughter is a full-body experience. His chest trembles, his belly shakes, his voice booms. It’s impossible not to smile and laugh along with him. His eyes crinkle in the brightest way, making his joy contagious.

His real smile is rare, but when it comes it makes your heart flutter because he is so unguarded and in the moment you can glimpse the man beneath the hardened outlaw.

Man is the ultimate heater!!!

He makes the best personal blanket. His body runs hot, and he’s the fastest way to warm your freezing hands—though he might grumble when you tuck them under his shirt, directly onto his soft chest.

Your fingers feel like damn icicles. But he just adores the way you melt into him.

Loves when you ask him to warm you up. Like yes please, let this man just hold you in a big hug and rub your arms, your legs, your back. Everywhere.

Until there isn’t a trace of your body left that hasn’t felt his loving touch.

On this topic ^

Arthur loves physical affection with you. He is so so touch starved, and he craves it more than he'll ever admit.

With others he tends to flinch away or shrug off their touch. It’s not necessarily a distrust, but more of a defense.

Freezes up the first few times you do touch him. Always afraid of ruining the moment.

You have to be patient with Arthur, touch means trust. And physical affection becomes a deeply emotional act for him—things he rarely felt in his life.

Every hug, kiss, touch (and sex) is very sacred to him.

Smell gestures mean everything to him, especially in the camp. He is not a big fan of PDA, mostly due to his own insecurities. But he is not afraid to hold your hand, kiss your temple, or playfully flick your hat.

Protective gestures when you’re out in public.

Such as resting his large hand on your back as you walk. Positioning himself so he’s always close to you. Moving you behind him when strangers approach. Holding you tightly at night.

Completely melts under your touch.

Loves when you play with his hair, kiss his forehead, run your fingers through his beard, and oh god please please touch his belly.

Tracing slow circles on his chest and down the soft curve is a surefire way to get this man on!top!of!you!

The first time your fingertips trail down his stomach he’s caught off guard by how sensitive it feels. He might be soft, but your touch sets his skin on fire.

Something about it makes him nervous yet excited. The way your hands glide over him with such care and adoration makes his doubts disappear.

For the first time, Arthur feels comfortable being shirtless. It takes him awhile to work up the courage, your words and reassurance helps enormously.

But ultimately he just craves the feeling of your hands on his bare body.

It feel like a sanctuary.

Where a woman praises a man.

Because she loved him something holy.

He loves to be skin to skin. Didn’t realize how much he needed it until you offered it to him. He finds himself seeking it out whenever he can.

Adores the feeling of your bare chest against his. The way your nipples peak and harden when they brush over his chest hairs.

Your warm breath against his neck puts him at ease and helps him relax.

SMUTTT!!!

This man is easily aroused.

He’s often overwhelmed with desire, feeling like a lovesick teenager. (He just wants to be loved so goddamn bad)

Whether it’s watching the curve of your ass as you bend over, eyes lingering on your lips while you talk, or catching the scent of your hair as you lean in to kiss him, Arthur is hopelessly smitten.

There’s really nothing you can do that won’t stir this man's cock.

Just watching you ride a horse makes the blood flow.

Arthur is nervous and very insecure about his size when it comes to sex. It would take awhile for him to work up to it. But these doubts can be kissed away with gentle patience and praise.

Personally, I think the ‘first time’ with you would be very hard for him. He is not a sex god (yet) and he’s a nervous wreck when it comes to being intimate.

I wouldn’t blame him if struggled with losing an erection when his doubts and insecurities became too loud. He would be so embarrassed and apologize a million times.

If he’s had any alcohol it only makes things worse.

Compliment him, tell him how much you love his body. How his arms make you feel safe, how his chest feels like home against your cheek.

Remind him that you accept and love every inch of him.

He loves to be praised. Arthur needs to be praised. It is his weakness and it makes him feel cherished and confident.

The love language he wants to receive is words of affirmation 1000000%

But don’t let him fool you, for as much as he loves it he will always out praise you. In the bedroom, in the kitchen, on a job. It never ends. That deep soft spoken timbre of his voice never fails to make your knees weak.

This boy is putty in your hands. Mold him into whatever you need him to be, as long as he’s yours.

When he feels your lips trace down his chest and stomach he is gone. He is completely owned by you.

His breath quickens. Cock twitching helplessly, thick and dripping with arousal. Just aching to be inside.

Once Arthur gets you below him it’s suffocating in the best possible way. Your body is completely consumed by him, like nothing exists beyond the two of you.

It's like he’s trapped you in his world and every mewl, moan and whimper you make below him is for his ears alone. When he groans into your neck you feel it in your soul.

You thought he was a big man?

Wait till he’s rubbing his cock along your folds and prodding your entrance. Wait till he’s breathing sharply through his teeth as he pushes the thick swollen head inside. Letting out a long, low groan as he carves out a space for himself within your body.

It burns white hot as he pushes in. The pain mingling with a pleasure that was born from an aching need for connection and trust.

A kind of fullness that just feels so right.

Oh but he’s kissing you and praising you and stopping to make sure you’re okay. Arthur studies your face, for any sign of discomfort. But when you give him the ‘ok’, he loses himself in your embrace.

Eager to show you the same love and devotion you’ve so freely given him. Sex is divine. It’s a moment of surrender. He lets go and he lets himself just be.

He’s not an outlaw, a gunman, a survivor—he’s just a man. Deeply in love with a woman.

Arthur spent his whole life putting up walls to protect himself. Being intimate with you means tearing them down, letting his darkest parts be seen. Scars and all.

Sex with a big man can also be awkward if you let it. Arthur is large, he takes up a lot of space. Certain positions can be hard. And softer body parts tend to move more during the act.

And that’s okay! Because you love every moment of it.

Every time you moan, kiss his neck, tug on his hair, rake your nails down his back, tighten your walls, cry out his name—he’s reminded that he is worthy of love.

Arthur never rushes through sex (unless absolutely necessary) It’s a time for him to show his adoration, to dote on you. To bring you to the edge of euphoria again and again until nothing else matters.

Those ocean blue eyes will tell you everything. His love, his fear, his gratitude. Holding his gaze is not only a huge turn on but very emotional.

You can feel the way his cock twitches inside you, and simultaneously his lip curls. Learn to read his face and you’ll know exactly when he’s about to come.

Not only will you feel it, you’ll see it in the way he loses control.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, and his length has a lot to show for it. Arthur knows this, and he’ll spend his time getting you ready for him with his tongue and fingers.

Let the man eat you out as!much!as!he!wants!

There is no such thing as taking turns. Sit on his face, ride his goddamn nose. Squeeze his head with those beautiful thighs. Let him get drunk off that pretty pussy. The man fucking needs it.

Arthur is also a natural giver, but we all know that.

Big fan of slow, rough sex. Watching his cock slide out of your tight pussy, leaving just the tip before snapping his hips back into you.

Intoxication with how it steals your breath away with each thrust. The creamy sounds of your arousal mingled with your shaky moans make him go absolutely feral.

He has to grip the head board just to keep himself from breaking your spine with his strength.

Favorite positions are the ones where he can watch your face contort with pleasure. Often missionary or cowgirl. Sometimes doggy if he can put you in front of a mirror and make you watch.

Arthur’s vocal in bed, but only when there is little chance of being heard. He’ll sing for you when you’re alone in the wild, or cozied up in a hotel, he throws caution to the wind when you finally have your own home.

He whimpers too, and he stopped fighting them once he realized how much your cunt tightened around his cock in response.

Hear me out, after things are established between you and you’re both comfortable in bed. Sex becomes a very fun activity as much as it is a vulnerable one.

I’m not saying y’all would tell jokes in the middle (I think Arthur would be very serious) but the act itself is just fun.

Arthur’s watching your face twist in pleasure as you ride him. Sapphire blue eyes gleaming in the firelight, full of lust and hunger and something more playful. He’s gripping your bottom, initially helping your pace but now you’ve taken complete control. Using his body for your own pleasure, setting your own rhythm. Getting off on his cock.

“Yeah, you like that, huh sweet girl?” He coo’s, smacking a hand against your ass and gripping the flesh as it pillows beneath his fingers. “Like ridin’ my cock huh?”

You can only nod, and whimper out a broken “y—yes” mind too focused on not losing that pressure that’s steadily building in your belly. Rising with every bounce of your hips. Threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Yeah?” He repeats. A wicked chuckle escapes his lips. His large hands run down your chest and over your thighs, before crossing an arm behind his head. One hand still kneading the soft flesh of your waist. A smug grin tugging at his lips as he watches his cock disappear inside you. “Well go on darlin’, have your fun with me.”

Every deep groan rumbles freely from his chest as he watches you panting above him. Eyes full of love and adoration, he can feel you getting close. Gripping him so deliciously. “Fuck—Keep going baby. Keep fucking my cock with that tight pussy. You gonna come for me?”

Those words open the floodgates, your vision going blank as pleasure and stars exploded behind your eyes. Crying out his name. You hear Arthur’s stained voice as he finishes in you with a needy groan. “Th-that’s it. That’s m-my good girl.”

Aftercare king!

Arthur will wait for your breathing to slow before disturbing the peace. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he strokes your hair. He can feel your heartbeat in his belly and the feeling grounds him more than anything.

Will get you food, water, wet cloth, whatever you need. He knows you’ll be sore and exhausted the next day. It’s also his way of saying thank you for trusting him with your body.

Sex with Arthur comes with a great deal of emotion and trust. It’s one of the only moments he truly lets his guard down and lets the vulnerability’s surface.

It’s deeply personal, and he craves that connection more than anything. It’s his sacred right, his holy devotion.

Arthur loves being close with you, and he just loves you.

Over time he begins to see himself differently. He’ll never seem himself through your eyes. But instead of looking in the mirror and seeing a large, ugly, and broken man. He’ll see one worthy of love.

Instead of looking at his body and feeling shame, he’ll look at his belly and remember the tingling feeling of your lips. The soft pads of your fingers as you traced his sides, sending shivers that reached the base of his spine.

When he sees those stretch marks he’ll be reminded of how easily he can carry you. How he can provide food and shelter for you. How you’ll never have to worry because he will always shield you from the storm.

With time, he begins to take care of himself more. Drinking less, eating more regularly, and finding solace in his lover when he feels like he is slipping again. Trusting her to let him be broken and held.

Falling in love with you teaches him that healing isn’t a linear path. But your loyalty, love and kindness guide him far better than when he had been on his own.

Arthur’s finally found a place where he belongs.

And it’s with you.

That’s it folks, as you can see I’m very passionate about this subject. Ahem, if anyone would like a part 2 I would be much obliged :)

I touched on some of these HC’s in my Arthur x oc fic, if anyone is interested. I didn’t have time to dedicate the entire work to his body and self esteem issues. So this was very enjoyable for me!

[eddies-spaghetti]

“Tenya: you are evil incarnate!

Honenuki: sorry ‘bout it.”

this always makes laugh so hard bc why does it sound like an old western film or smthn.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The Quest Continues...

(part 1- part 2)

[michameinmicha]

Things i desperately want for Project Zomboid:

Bicycles

A cat!!!

Roller Skates

Ladders!

Baby stroller or handcart to transport heavy things for short distances (mostly for lots of materials or furniture and such)

Cargo pants with pockets

Growing my hair veeeery long (and keeping it in a loooong braid)

Head lamp

Let me paint metal crates and cars!!!!!!!

I have more but these are the most functional ones i guess

[neverendingford]

.

[babsaros]

bro i think cato calls himself straight ☹️

[julymusings]

Jason is the type of person to put on some shitty romance movie only for his date to fall asleep and for him to get strangely invested.

are you still watching?

i saddle up my horse and I ride into the city. i make a lot of noise 'cause the girls they are so pretty. riding up and down broadway on my old stud leroy, and the girls say...

or; 3 times Jason Todd gets hooked on your television choices [3.7k]

jason todd x fem!reader; this is so real...and so clever!!! i LOVE the concept. i did get a little carried away and lost the plot unforch...pt3 is just a sex dream ab cowboy!jason so. also I apologize for taking forever to respond. tw...klance mentioned💀 & suggestive but not explicit. and i do bash on voltron in pt2 a little but it's all in good fun🫶i did my time with them divider

i.

“Baby, I love you, but if you don’t pick something soon I’ll call Dick in here to entertain us with his backflips.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you huff. Though as you scroll, once again, through all the options on Netflix, you fear his threat may be serious.

You reach the bottom of the page, having found nothing. You peek at Jason from the corner of your eye and hover the cursor over the ‘Back to Top’ button.

“No.” He reaches to grab the laptop from you, but his injuries hinder his usual swiftness. You shriek in objection and roll away to the other side of the bed, computer held tight in your clutches.

“Babe.” He groans. He tries to reach across the bed to you, but his grasp falls short by mere centimeters as you frantically begin another scan of the site.

“I will find something, I promise!” You say. “Just one more minute!”

He rolls his eyes. “You said that ten minutes ago. And I’m the one who’s injured, shouldn’t I get to pick?”

You spare him a glance, pondering over his wrapped foot elevated on a pillow, and the bandages around his torso. His arm has fallen flat on his bed, having given up on its attempt to catch you. That alone should guilt you into saying yes; his childhood bed is just shy of too small for his adult self, so being unable to reach the other end speaks to the severity of his pain. And to add salt to the wound, you know he isn’t exactly fond of staying at his father’s house, but he is in no shape to recuperate alone.

“I would say yes, but you don’t know any good shows! All you watch is Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.”

He scoffs. “I thought you liked that show!”

You scoff back, imitating him. “I did. But a person can only stand so much of Guy Fieri talking with his mouth full.”

He quiets, probably searching for a rebuttal, but you can’t imagine he’ll find any. You use the opportunity to resume your search unimpeded. 

After a few minutes, you perk up. “Ooh, they added New Girl on Netflix!” You scoot back over on the bed to his side, satisfied with your choice.

“What is that?” Jason asks.

You whip your head to him. “You don’t know New Girl?”

He pushes a stray hair behind your ear, eyes narrowed. “Should I?”

Your eyes flit to the computer screen, then back to him, and you sigh. “No, I guess not.”

You’re about to press play on the first episode but stop yourself. “Do you want to choose? You’re already hurting enough, I don’t want to torture you with this too. Besides, I’ve seen it, like, a million times anyway.”

“No, it’s okay.” He turns the computer towards him and presses play. “I don’t need any of my siblings barging in and catching me enjoying Guy Fieri. I’d never hear the end of it.”

You titter at his remark and set your laptop in the middle of you, a little farther away so you don’t have to crane your neck to see the screen. He lifts his arm to drape it around you but struggles with raising it past shoulder level. You meet him halfway by ducking underneath his arm and settling it over your shoulders. He kisses the top of your head in thanks.

Leaning against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing is too hypnotic for you to focus. Paired with the warmth of his skin, bare so as not to obstruct access to his wound dressings, you are quickly lulled to sleep.

It must be several hours later when movement against you disturbs you from sleep. The room is almost pitch black, save for the dim glow of the computer, still on and resting on your legs a few feet away. The air is thick with late-night silence, and fighting against the heaviness of your eyelids is so laborious that you have to use your hand to pry them open. Jason is squirming next to you, hand outstretched, low huffs of pain slipping from his mouth.

A shot of adrenaline courses through you and you stumble into action.

“What happened? What hurts?” The laptop tips off your legs and falls to the bed, landing on its side as you scramble to your knees and face him. “Should I get someone?”

“What? No, I— I’m fine, why?” He squints at you through the darkness.

“You—” Your throat catches and you take a deep, steadying breath. “It sounded like you were in pain.”

“No, honey, I’m fine. It’s okay. You can go back to sleep.” Jason takes your wrist and gently pulls you back into his side. You don’t budge.

“Then why were you moving?” You scan him for any signs of a worsening injury. Downplaying his own pain is not something you can put past him, unfortunately.

“I…” His eyes look past you for a quick second. He swallows. “I wasn’t,” he says, unconvincingly.

You narrow your eyes at him, then turn around to see what he is looking at, despite his (false) reassurances. Your laptop, still on its side, lies awake and open to the Netflix website. You pick it up to get a closer look at the screen. The player has gone dark, and overcast in white lettering; ‘New Girl: Are you still watching?’

You turn back to Jason, dumbfounded. “You risked hurting yourself…for this?”

Now adjusted to the darkness, you can see his cheeks tinged with pink. “No?”

“Jason.”

“You’re the one who put it on!”

You check the clock in the corner of the screen.

“It’s three AM, Jay. You need to sleep if you want your body to heal.” You argue.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” He defends. “I can’t sleep sitting up, and I need help lying down.” he fails to meet your eyes as he says this.

You cross your arms, tilting your face to catch his gaze. “And what am I doing here?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he mumbles.

You just stare. It takes fifteen seconds for him to break.

“Fine. I was enjoying the show. I wanted to keep watching. Happy?” He punctuates his statement with a shrug but groans through a clenched jaw, remembering the injuries to his upper body.

“Okay, just—” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “It’s too late for this. Can we please go to sleep?” You don’t wait for an answer, shutting the laptop and placing it on the bedside table.

He leans off the headboard so you can help him shift his body down the bed and lie flat, and you lie down next to him.

“Comfy?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Okay. Goodnight,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jason says quietly.

You snuggle into his side. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but you can tell by his breathing pattern that he’s still awake. He whispers your name into the darkness, hoping you’re still awake.

“Yes, honey?” You answer.

There is a beat of silence. Then, “When do Nick and Jess get together?”

“Go to sleep.”

ii.

Jason leans against the kitchen counter behind him, hands in his pockets, as he watches the microwave dish spin in a slow circle. It whirs under the yellow lightbulb, the flat paper packet puffing up among raucous popping. With sixty seconds left to kill, he searches the cabinets for a large enough bowl to fit the family-size packet of popcorn, as well as the various add-ons you adore.

The first time you invited Jason over for a movie night, in the beginning stages of your relationship, he looked on in wonder as you combined the grocery store’s entire snack aisle into one salty, sugary, buttery abomination in a jumbo Hello Kitty bowl.

“How do you even come up with something like this?” He had asked, ripping open the bag of pretzels as you emptied the fresh batch of popcorn into the bowl.

“Wait!” You stopped him just before he could pour the pretzels in. “Sugary stuff first. While it’s still hot. Then it gets all melty and good.” You dumped an entire bag of mini marshmallows, caramels, and M&M’s in, and gave it a few stirs. “And to answer your question, I was in high school and experiencing intense munchies.”

You gave him the OK to add the pretzels, so he did. “I envy your dentist,” he said, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Now, with plenty more movie nights under his belt, you trusted him enough to assemble your party mix on his own while you select something to watch.

The microwave beeps. As he rips open the popcorn bag, you yell from the living room.

“Hey, what about The Bourne Identity?” You call out. “Have you—? Wait.” You cut yourself off.

“What’s it about?” He yells back. You don’t answer. “Babe?” He calls again.

“Never mind! I’m gonna keep looking!”

He adds the sugary snacks first, stirring them until they melt, just how you like it. He’s tearing into the bag of pretzels when he hears you shriek.

He drops the bag and bolts to the living room, pretzels scattering all over the counter and floor.

“What happened?” His eyes bounce around the entire room, scanning for any threat.

He’s unsure what he expected to find, but it was a tad more perilous than you simply sitting on the couch, staring open-mouthed at the TV.

“Uh…nothing. Sorry.” Your face flushes. The remote is still raised and pointed at the screen.

“Vol…tron?” Jason reads from the title sequence that plays in the preview window. “Is this some kind of anime?”

“No…sort of, maybe,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. I'm just surprised to see it is all. I loved this show when I was younger.”

“Is it any good?” He asks.

You look to the side, thinking about it. You settle on: “Define good.”

His forehead wrinkles, mouth falling slightly open. “Did you…enjoy watching it?”

“Define enjoy.”

“Okay, forget I asked.” He sighs and goes back to the kitchen.

When he returns a few minutes later, floor pretzels in the trash and counter pretzels swept into the bowl, you’re already watching the first episode.

“This your choice?” He asks. You take the bowl in your lap and he settles down next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Definitely not. Just wanted to reminisce until you got back.” You frown at the bowl. “Where are all the pretzels?”

He chuckles. “That’s what you get for screaming. Dropped ‘em on the floor.”

You pout. “I didn’t scream. I was surprised. Now the ratio’s off, there’s not enough saltiness to balance the sweetness.”

“Poor baby,” he croons sarcastically. “Only getting a quarter bag of pretzels ‘stead of a full.”

You were going to switch the television to a movie you both liked, but you spent the entire first episode bickering about the important role each ingredient plays in, what you call, “The Party Mix Experience”. The next episode auto-played on its own, and you let it.

During the second episode, you and Jason were absorbed in a competition to see who could catch more flying popcorn pieces in their mouth (Jason), which then devolved into seeing who could dodge more popcorn kernels thrown to the face (also Jason).

By the beginning of episode three, you settled into meaningless chatter while paying half-hearted attention to the TV screen, and by the end, you were laid out on the couch, head in Jason’s lap, while you scrolled on your phone and he stroked your hair. You drifted to a light sleep, coaxed by his fingers scratching at your scalp. 

When you wake from your nap, there’s a blanket draped over you and Jason’s hand is still settled in your hair. You push yourself up to sit beside him, speaking through a yawn. “How long was I asleep?”

Jason adjusts the blanket so it covers both of you. “Um…I dunno. Three episodes, maybe.”

“You’re still watching,” you remark, as the end credits for episode six begin to roll.

He says nothing. You both stare as the auto-play timer for the next episode counts down. Next to the remote, his fingers twitch.

You purse your lips, suppressing a grin. “You know, there’s quite an online community for people who like this show.”

“Ha. Were you part of it?” He muses.

“Yup. And I deserve a medal of valor for my time in those trenches.” You kiss his cheek and stand up, stretching your arms. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly with weariness.

You turn toward the bedroom when a call of your name stops you.

“Is it just me, or is something goin’ on between the red guy and the blue guy?”

“Oh, honey,” you sigh. It’s loud and pitying. You bend down to cup his cheek and draw him in for a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Babe!” He yells after you as you disappear into the bedroom. “You didn’t answer my question!”

iii.

It’s only a Hallmark movie, but with how he’s reacting, it might as well be six hours of paint drying. Jason is not eager to spend his night watching some boring, formulaic cliché, but it's late and you don't have anything better to do.

“That is absolutely not true,” he says when you counter his protests with this excuse.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Jay. Is there anything else to do, except sleep?” You rub your tired eyes. Both of you could use some sleep but, burrowed as you are under a pile of blankets, moving all the way from the couch to the bed seems impossible.

He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear. “I can think of a few things.”

His warm breath tickles your neck, and you feel a shiver despite the heat you’ve conserved in your little blanket burrito. The faintest of kisses is pressed behind your ear, and his eyes glint with familiar mischief when he pulls back.

You brush him off, rolling your eyes in amusement. “Do any of those things involve flannel-wearing farmer hunks or the True Meaning of Christmas?”

Turning back to the television, you take the remote from his hands, catching the tail end of a disgruntled mumble about how ‘I can buy a flannel…’

He grumbles a few more complaints during the movie’s first act (‘he’s not even that hunky’) before you scold him to silence. Once he’s quieted, and you settle more comfortably into him, your head is nestled securely in the crook of his shoulder with arms wrapped around his bicep. The warmth of him has you fighting against the tempting call of REM. Right around when the independent, successful, businesswoman protagonist discovers the handsome, flannel-clad man who helped repair her car is also the single father who runs an honest family business, you start to drift off, falling asleep amid thoughts of wearing plaid in the countryside.

You open your eyes to find yourself standing in a vast, open field. 

Thump. Thump.

It’s unclear where the sound is coming from, but a splash of red in your periphery stands out. You turn; there’s a barn off in the distance.

Thump.

Your legs carry you in its direction. Growing closer by the second, the thumping sound echoes louder in your ears. When you round the corner of the structure, the front doors are propped wide open by cement blocks, and bales of hay are stacked outside the doors. A large figure, whose back is to you, is lugging a bale by its straps. He hauls it onto his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves tighten around his thick arms. He brings it to the barn, tossing it onto a pile of more hay bales. It lands with that same thump.

When he turns around, it’s in slow motion.

The sleeves of his plaid flannel are rolled up his arms, exposing his large, veiny forearms. Under the flannel, he sports a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and work boots that give him an extra inch of height. His face and chest are shiny with sweat, and his shirt is soaked through. He holds a toothpick between gritted teeth.

It’s Jason. In a cowboy hat.

He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. Its dampness makes it stay slicked back rather than settling into its usual shape where little curls are always falling over his eyes. Then, he sees you. A slow, sly grin spreads across his face. He puts his hat back on and removes the toothpick so he can speak.

“Hey there, little lady,” he drawls lazily, the Gotham accent you’re so accustomed to replaced with a southern twang. It does something to you that you’re a little embarrassed to admit. He looks you up and down, pausing above your knee for a split second before continuing.

“Hi,” you say, averting your gaze from where it had zeroed in on a droplet of sweat running down his neck. Your face burns redder than his beautifully sun-kissed cheeks.

He chuckles. “You jus’ gonna stand there or you gonna lend a hand? Compost ain’t gonna turn itself.”

He easily hauls up another bale, and you follow him into the barn.

You watch as he shirks it onto the pile, then repeats with the remaining few bales. He seems to forget you’re standing there as he gets so absorbed in his work, expression tightening in focus. You lean on the wooden post behind you and soak it in; every sound, every flexed muscle, every display of firm strength has you feeling like the air has been punched out of you. He carries the final bale into the barn and his low grunt as he throws it off his shoulder has a swooning sigh escape you. It catches his attention.

Your chest tightens in embarrassment as he prowls closer. He leans over you, hand against the wooden post right above your head. With him this close, a smattering of freckles is visible over the bridge of his nose, likely due to all the sun exposure. Huffing and sweaty, his eyes drag down your face and stop at your mouth. He swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

He lifts his free hand to trace over the thin strap of your top. His fingers ghost over the skin, barely touching. “This is pretty,” he says, voice low. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all the way out here?”

And you just can’t help it anymore. You lurch up to him, desperate to close the space between you. You kiss him hard, and he kisses you back, his hand rising from your shoulder to grip the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your jaw, and your hands grip the material of his flannel, yanking it down to bring him even closer. You pull him against you so roughly that your head bumps the post behind you from the force. He smirks, teasing, into the kiss as his hand comes to cup the back of your head.

“Easy, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” After getting his fill from your lips, he slowly graces a path to your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping as he goes. His relaxed leisure perfectly juxtaposes your frantic hunger for him.

You grip his face and pull his mouth back to yours, kissing him with even more fervor. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down with little care for gentleness, and tug at the skin. He groans, and it rumbles deep in his throat. You soothe the spot with your tongue, and your eyes roll back into your head at the salty taste of his skin. As his tongue slides between your lips, he removes the hand that’s leaning onto the post and settles it on the skin of your thigh. It drags upward, feeling every inch of skin on his fingertips before disappearing under the hem of your skirt. At the same time, your hands slide down his body. His touch explores higher, and yours slips under his shirt to ground yourself on the hard skin of his abdomen, which has become slick with sweat.

The sound you make is debauched, coming from the deepest recesses of your stomach. He pulls back, wearing a cheeky smile. He opens his mouth to speak and says—

“Wait, what the fuck?”

You jerk awake. Jason is yelling.

“Why would you go with him?” He exclaims at the TV, and then turns to exclaim to you, “Why would she go with him?”

You stare at him, agape, trying to process your surroundings and asking yourself what just happened.

“Shit. Were you asleep?” Jason puts his outrage on hold.

You nod. “Yeah— yes.” Your voice comes out scratchy and hollow. “I was.”

“Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says. His eyebrows furrow. “Are you hot?”

“What?”

“You look warm.” He presses the back of his hand to your flushed neck. “Is it too many blankets?”

Though his hand is cool, you feel even warmer, the image of his hand gripping that same spot of your neck flashing through your mind.

“I’m…good,” you say. “I think I’ll go to bed.” You dig yourself out of the shell of blankets and stand, but he doesn’t follow.

“Oh.” Jason glances at the TV, which is still in a commercial break. “You— did you want me to come?”

You don’t know what to say.

“The, uh…” He runs a hand through his hair, and you have to stifle a gasp. “The guy from her successful city life tracked her down to the small town to get back together. She said yes.” Then he sighs, sounding genuinely distressed. “There’s no way they’d end it like that, right? He was awful to her!”

At this, you crack a smile. “Do you want to finish the movie, Jason?” A hint of satisfaction seeps into your tone.

He clears his throat. “…Maybe.”

You plop back down on the couch with a hum. He interlaces your fingers and kisses the back of your hand before redirecting his attention to the screen.

“Babe?” You ask.

“Hm?” He answers, not looking away from the movie.

“Do you own any flannels?”

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOYYYYYYY

love when u leave messages and feedback it feeds my praise kink

for part one: cut to me sitting up in bed shrugging my shoulders over and over again to see which muscles it uses and if that coincides with the injuries i gave him to see if that action causing him pain makes sense (it was inconclusive so i made his injuries vague oopsie)

for part two: the bourne identity (2002) is a movie about a guy named jason who wakes up not knowing where or who he is and somehow has elite training in combat and surveillance, though he doesn't know where it's from. he runs around functioning on pure instinct to survive while getting bits of his memory back, remembering that whoever he worked for was cutthroat, expected him to obey no matter what, and forget the person he used to be before joining their mission. sound familiar?

for part three: cut to me genuinely tweaking while proofreading bc i let my friend read it and so rereading it, knowing that she read it, was so embarrassing. i was screaming into my pillow & it took 20 minutes to get through 2k words bc i had to keep taking breaks. not an exaggeration

If any of you saw me change the theme of my masterlist 5 times yesterday only to change it back to what it was before…no you didn’t

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. 

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead. 

“You wanna come in with me then?” 

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him. 

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face. 

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to. 

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.  

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve. 

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings. 

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you. 

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last. 

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed. 

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation. 

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. 

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat. 

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm. 

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin. 

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly. 

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker. 

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone. 

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose). 

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.” 

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel. 

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze. 

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.” 

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.  

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.  

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun. 

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled. 

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful. 

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting. 

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.” 

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned. 

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.” 

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly. 

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear. 

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!” 

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage. 

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue. 

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure. 

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose. 

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face. 

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils. 

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.  

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up. 

“Easy, T–” Boone said. 

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.   

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.  

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone. 

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him. 

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently. 

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word. 

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more. 

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin. 

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.  

You felt grateful when they didn’t push. 

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation. 

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat. 

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you. 

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.  

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?” 

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted. 

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes. 

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word. 

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out. 

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour. 

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.  

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name. 

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines. 

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves. 

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you. 

“Better?” he asked, handing you one. 

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak. 

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight. 

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.  

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter. 

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–” 

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.” 

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt. 

“I’m the sorry one,” he said. 

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you. 

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth. 

“I just–” you paused again. “I–” 

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.” 

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened. 

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off. 

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?” 

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked. 

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said. 

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked. 

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly. 

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”

[burstinn]

THE EVERY GAY MANS DREAM READER

TALL, BUFF, BIG BOOBS AND ASS everything

Can't find no good pic for this so..

This post includes:Ghost, Graves, Price, Soap, Nikto, Riptide, Krueger, Konig, Alejandro, Rudy, Gaz, Horangi, Makarov, Velikan, Keegan, Roach. In that order

Yes I wrote all those, yes because I haven't written in a while

Notes:

- NSFW and SFW (Bottom male and top male reader mentioned)

-since y'all like the big buff n' tall male reader, made him bigger and taller basically mixed everything I wrote about male reader, tall, big buff, big cake, big boobs it's like a package in one this will probably be the last of this type of reader since running out ideas. It was hard making original headcanons 💔💔.

-Omg I haven't written in a while so like this might get idk boring?

- Yes again headcanons,you're favs

- strictly MALE READER not Gn rn

- readers age is ambiguous but if you can't think and want an age for reader my thinking is somewhere near late 30s or early 40s

- Some of the HCS have where y'all ain't in a relationship some HCS have y'all r in a relationship

- these headcanons definitely are mischaracterized but let me pretend for a bit 💔💔

- Tiktok got to me now I have brainrot language, so Trigger warning wooohh braiinroot

- can't believe this post was long enough to make my phone lag just a lil bit

- When he first saw you of course he was 😦😧😮

GHOST

- Like okay overkill, like you're taller, buffer and probably have a huger cock??? (Something he can investigate.. For purposes..)

Like you also got smoobs?? A plumpy ass??

Like save some for the rest Jesus 😒😒

- Nonstop staring secretly ofc, You be like in a room then you feel someone staring just to see Ghost somewhere in the corner of the room. You can't tell if he's staring or not but being that you are in an empty room.. Yknow it's kind of obv--

- BUT if you are not in an empty room you will not shake off the staring I mean holy shit look at you like 😨😨🍑✋

- You can literally hear him breathing heavily under his mask like how can he control himself when HE a person who is supposed to be looked up to literally and figuratively now has to look up at YOU?? do you know what does to a person??

-That's right it makes them freaky..

-Probably jerks off to you too

- I mean who doesn't want to get railed by a 7 ft tall man? Especially ESPECIALLY when you've been the supposed dominant person your whole life??

- OMG immediately Cumming to the thought

- I mean he won't mind topping you it also drives his own ego seeing a dominant man get absolutely wrecked, imagine the begging and whining

- plus he won't mind being the person who feels protected not always doing the protecting like 💔💔 he wants to feel protected too 😞

GRAVES

- Immediate gay awakening

- thinks making his western accent more prominent would make you think he sounds more hot

- Will dress up as a cowboy and will will ask (beg) you to do it as well

- because you know.. Hat thing.. Riding.. Graves grabs your hat puts it on his head or Graves grabs his hat puts it on your head, either way one of you is riding something and it ain't a horse

- because of the amazing quote on who ever came up w/ that is "save a horse ride a cowboy"

- Graves is obviously the type of guy to look at your ass and whistle maybe slap it, nah definitely slap it

PRICE

- He thinks of you like a bear

- like You're soo- big and cuddly? Definitely intimidating

- I mean you're near the same age bracket so it's not bad to have some.. Thoughts right?

- You're definitely hairy underneath or not but pls be he wants pubes to tickle his nose

- if you don't have a beard for reader then he would KILL to see have a beard like aughh perfect bear look, if you have a beard immediately cumming(/j) or (not /j)

- Like imagine you and price who are basically like bears like parent bears and and you the other 141 boys are like your children 🥺🥺

SOAP

- DEFINITELY became more gayer

- errrmmm.. Like his eyes are BASICALLY near like chest height

- bumping into you and his face touches your chest like omgg.. Such an accident 💔💔

- Obviously flirting about going to pound town

- like imagine You and Him? In a relationship? Having the most feral sex??? Like it's obv jokes (it's not)

- He would also do anything to see a big man whimper like a little bicth slut, who wouldn't want to see a demon of a man roll his eyes back and whine like a wheoeororoe❤, I mean if he tops I'd imagine him saying "cmon you're a big boy ain't cha'? You can handle a few more inches". While you are also getting the malevolent backshots.

- He would also want a big strong arm to man handle him as he takes the most vigorous backshots known to man

- Have you ever thought or seen a very tall wall like 10 or 11 ft high and you being you, Soap asks (demands) for you to carry him on your shoulder because he wants to see what's over the wall

NIKTO

- intimidating guy and intimidating guy typa relationship but your not in a relationship.. Yet.

- watch him watch you

- shows off his knife collection to you, yes I think he has a knife collection and he will show it to people that he wants to impress (he wants to get freaky with you)

- I like to think if he strips off the gear he gives the most desperate kind of touchy hug, to those he feels close with of course which is you

- lucky you

RIPTIDE

- Offers to teach you how to swim yknow just in case

- there is none, he wants to see you wet

- tells you to wear a white shirt and shorts because its Essential for training, it's a lie he wants to see the water wet your clothes making it stick to your body.. Yknow the white shirt showing whats underneath and the shorts outlining what package you've been hiding even though you weren't really hiding it

- He gets too distracted, the others are too, he forgets how to teach you

KRUEGER

- indefinite eye contact while your doing it

- likes staring into them, if you get shy and look away he will grab your jaw and make you have eye contact with him

- angry fierce ahh eyes

- he's an emotional grumpy guy, rip off his mask and aggressively kiss his face

- He wants the after sex laying on the chest while the other is rubbing their head, goes both ways.

- trace his tattoos and compliment them the bedroom will be locked the whole day, trust 🙏

KÖNIG

- The same as Ghosts

- Imagine being the one to get carried instead of the one carrying

- König would definitely come up to you and ask to be carried while you kiss his face multiple times❤❤

- Imagine how hard he gets because you have to look down at him to talk like HNGRHRRGGGRGRRR

- Definitely likes giving you homemade arts and crafts gear because you know.. The headcanon where König makes his own gear and what if he does it for other people too as gifts💔

- likes seeing you wear his mask it makes him imagine what people see when they see König definitely a change of perspective. He can see how intimidating you are and he gets hard.

ALEJANDRO

- will definitely compliment you in Spanish when talking about you with other people even when you're in front or behind him.

- I mean you don't understand Spanish right?

- if you don't, you're oblivious and only just watch curiously on what he's talking about. Buuut but but if you do understand you don't tell him you undeestrand this thing literally feeds your ego like Alejandro thinks of you this way? 🥺🥺

- Thigh riding type of guy idc who thigh riding

RUDY

- everytime I look at him he looks like a soft vanilla type

- I know he's a strong guy but look at him

- He wants soft sex 😞😞

- He also likes being complimented if you whisper a praise to him when he's doing ANYTHING. Imagine the babies you'd both have together.

- He likes toddlers and babies and if you do too a plus for him,makes him fall even more 💯💯

GAZ

- One time he Got injured and was sitting on the floor and then He saw you running towards him he simultaneously screamed in fear and how hard he got

- Likes to style your clothes, If he was off the military right now he really really likes fashion and if he sees you.. You can't fashion and he sees you wearing.. That, He's appalled, horrified, mortified I'm over exaggerating. But he is now in charge of your fashion now, But if you do know how to style you both will share tips with eachother. You can share different tips too ❤❤

- drags you in his barracks and strips you of your clothes except shorts.. And he's telling you this because he wants to "style" you.

- We both know damn well that's an excuse to get the boombayah freaky on.. He's just to shy to tell you upfront or he thinks it's fun to tease you like that before you get freaky

HORANGI

- gets freaky..

- Like he understands the women who get all giggly and nervous when they see a big man who can destroy them (ignore König 💔)

- is definitely not above thigh crushing, boob crushing, face sitting he'd do all at as long as it's you

- Like one time he pretended he broke his leg and won't let anyone else carry him until you came, acting all princessy and shit as you carry him bridal style to the medics

- He felt like a prince omg

- will definitely get on you and treat your real life size anime men boobs as a squishy toy

- How long is it and will he be able to take it??? Who knows he will find out!! Basically searched how long can someone's cock be if they are built like a god and is 7ft tall in Google

- someone gotta tell me Horangi's height and basic Google searching ain't doing it for me I'm too lazy to search for one line of a spicy headcanon line mb

MAKAROV

- You're basically ascary dog he owns

- You're tall and intimidating

- You can get information out of people quickly

- And he's not above telling you to torture anyone with a strength and body like yours

- most of the time you get the info done and folded

- Makarov uses you for intimidation and strength buuttt if you ever THINK of betraying him he already has a plan to get rid of someone like you

- Can and will turn you into one of those supersoldiers

- Will make you murder people right in front of him for entertainment and will rewward you!

- you know what reward it will be, Because when he asked what reward you wanted you got a bit to freaky you thought you be dead rn but nah he agreed actually he seems to enjoy it more than you do..

VELIKAN

- He's the dog in this one have you heard his voice?? Rough as hell imagine hearing him grunt

- Sounds cocky as hieeeellll too

- Would definitely like showing off to you since he wants to look cool in front of you

- Like you seen velikans skins?? Definitely wears the best ones to show you he can not only be a trained assassin But can also dress cool as hell

- If you compliment him it like makes his day, will not stop thinking about it

- Like a cool person complimenting a cool person like him? Ego boost (It's him feeling gay)

- This guys definitely a smoker (headcanon!!) Because voice sounds like he smoked 100 packs in 1 day and doesn't drink an ounce of water /jk I love him he's so hot.

- So if you want a smoke he purposely hides the lighter saying.. 'Oh no I asked someone elses lighter.. I don't have mine right now' or like 'my lighter ran out of fuel ohh

- So you have to put the cigarette in your mouth as you touch it with his cigarette to light ur own that type of trope 💫💫

- If you're not a smoker he will try his best to not smoke in front of you will use fresh mints to hide his breath of smoke

- after sex he will want a smoke, outside he goes or you both share the one cigarette

KEEGAN

- is it wrong to want to be choked by a big buff meaty arm?

- yknow the tiktok thing where girls put a ribbon on their boyfriends arm and the girls just put their face in the middle as their faces get squished??

- Yeah he wants that but gay

- will try to compare dick sizes even though yours is OBVIOUSLY the superior one!!

- Heads or tails on who's bottoming tonight

- Would like to be wrapped around your arms if you are hugging or sleeping keeps him warm

- Especially when it's snowing will force you to hug with him. ESPECIALLY when your in a mission and your in the tents he will definitely force you to hug it out with him

ROACH

- remember the other tall HC where the reader wasn't taller than König

- yes roach does the same thing here.. He's crawling on you like a tree

- If he wants a kiss instead of asking he crawls up to you and kisses you

- definitely likes to sit on your shoulders as you walk around, he feels tall like that

- this is like a distance relationship 💔💔

- Likes it when you bend over to talk to him also when you bend over when youre doing sum since it's slappable opportunity

- because bent over = double D cake will be slapped

- How will it fit? By the power of friendship of course!!

- probably more of say gex desperation but you get it

- Obviously switch switch

[cassidyandonlycassidy]

tornadoes aren't more important than you

tyler owens (twisters) x reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: pregnant!reader, married!reader, established relationship

“be careful, yeah?” you place your hands on tylers cheeks, tilting his head down to look you in the eye.

“i wish you could come with me.” tyler sighs, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours, his cowboy hat tipping upwards and off his head, clattering onto the hardwood.

“i know.” you miss it. the excitement, the fear, the anticipation of storm chasing. “but i don't think the baby would like me getting whipped around.”

tyler chuckles and presses his hands to your stomach, fully showing now that you've reached six months.

“im gonna be safe and im gonna be back home to you real soon.” tyler kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you in close.

“uh, not to interrupt-” 

“you are interrupting, boone.” tyler looks up at him as he stands in the open doorway, trucks filling the driveway.

“we were just finishing saying goodbye.” you raise to your tiptoes and give tyler one more peck. 

“i love you.” you whisper against your husbands lips.

“i love you, baby.”

“ew.” boones nose scrunches up, still somehow not used to seeing you kiss despite being married for a year now.

“you stay safe too boone.” you point at him, watching as they head out the door and pile in the trucks.

you wave goodbye to everyone, tyler getting in last as he tips his hat he grabbed off the floor towards you, a silent promise to come back home.

you sigh as you watch them pull away, hand stroking over your belly as the trucks disappear in a cloud of dirt. “it's okay.” you whisper to the baby, but it's mostly for yourself. “daddy will be back.”

--

“hey.” you answer the phone with a smile on your face. “i watched the live stream.”

“pretty fucking cool huh?” 

“pretty cool that you let boone drive the rig.” you chuckle, knowing tyler did that specifically for you, to show you that he can let others take the lead, let them be the one to drive into the tornado.

“how's my baby doing?” tyler asks, ignoring your teasing.

“which one?” you giggle, laying a hand on your stomach. “im good, baby is kicking a lot though.”

“put me on speaker.” tyler requests. you roll your eyes but still turn the volume up and hold the speaker up to your belly.

“it's daddy.” tylers voice is half strict and half high baby voice. “you better stop giving your mama grief when im not there to help her. behave for just a bit longer, buddy.”

“i hope he listens to you.” you shake your head, bringing the phone back up. “how's the storms looking for tomorrow?”

“tracking a couple cells.” tyler confirms. “im coming home friday no matter what they look like over the weekend.”

“mhm, sure.” you roll your eyes, although you don't doubt it. now that you're pregnant, tyler is even more protective over you. he knows you can handle anything, but that doesn't mean he's going to force you to do it all on your own.

“i will. already miss that pretty face baby.” his country twang is music to your ears as you hum out.

“i miss you too. miss kissing your lips.”

“you're killing me, sugar.” tyler groans. you hear dani shouting something in the background.

“i-”

“you gotta go. i know. love you.”

“love you more, darling.”

--

you have tylers livestream on in the background as you clean the house, feeling the urge to nest and get everything prepared before you're too pregnant to do anything, and tyler certainly wouldn't let you lift a finger when hes home.

you always dreamt of a beautiful old farmhouse like this all your life, but before you could move in tyler insisted on building a proper storm shelter to keep you safe.

you unpack some of the boxes of things you bought for the baby's room, sticking to yellows and oranges to keep everything brightly colored and cohesive, in contrast to the darkening sky.

you're not right in the path of tornados, but they have been known to swing up and hit the closest town every couple years.

you know the cloudy sky is just a result of all the activity further to the west where your husband currently is.

you look back to your phone, watching for a moment as his handsome face turns to look out the window. you can see the reflection of the twister in his eyes, a mix of awe struck and fear that any man within his right mind would feel.

“god-” you look up to the ceiling. you're not the biggest believer, but growing up in the south has you always reverting to whispering a prayer. “keep my husband safe.”

--

you let out a yawn as you adjust, not knowing for sure the sound that woke you up until you hear it again, your cellphone vibrating on the nightstand.

“hello?” your voice is groggy as you answer. you didn't bother to look at the contact name, there's only one person who would be calling you at this hour. “tyler?”

“baby, get to the storm shelter right now.”

“what?” the words have you instantly awake, hopping to your feet and looking out the window of your second story bedroom. “it looks fine.”

“im- just trust me! are you going?” you can hear the nerves in tyler's voice as well as the roaring of his truck no doubt speeding down the road.

“yes.” you confirm, grabbing one of tylers sweatshirts and slipping it over your head before finding a pair of shoes. “im going down the stairs right now.”

the second you step outside, you can feel the shift in the air.

“im tracking it on the data. we reported it but they said it's not on their maps as if our equipment isn't ten years newer.”

you listen to tylers rant as you round the house to pull open the storm shelter doors. it's not a glamorous area, small and tight but completely concrete and filled with a couple boxes of supplies.

“im in the shelter, ty.” you reassure him as you close the latch. “im safe. the babys safe.”

“it's building.” tyler says, no doubt looking at the radar or getting reports fed to him from boone. “im coming home to you, ill be there in two hours. fuck it, make it an hour and a half.”

“it's wednesday.” you state, although its just after midnight so technically thursday. “you said you weren't coming home until friday.”

“that was before a torando was gonna hit you. baby, i don't want you to go through this alone when you're pregnant.”

“ill be fine.” you reassure tyler. “but if you want to come back and make sure, you're more than welcome. like i said, i miss your lips.”

“gonna give you lots of kisses to make up for being gone.”

“i won't argue with that.” your phone beeps and you pull it away from your ear to realize you're losing service. “i think we are going to disconnect soon.”

“stay on as long as you possibly can.”

you try, but your phone beeps again and the call drops out.

sitting alone in the darkness heightens your other senses, feeling the cold air sneaking in through every available crack as your ears pick up the sound of the wind roaring.

you close your eyes and press your hands against your stomach, softly singing a nursery rhyme that your mother sung to you when you were a baby, your eyes sliding closed as you fall back asleep.

--

you're startled awake suddenly as the door rips open, only for tyler to quickly enter.

“is it over?” you ask, standing up and wobbling slightly. tyler grabs your hips, holding you up and looking at you up and down, his eyes examining you. you watch the stress and fear and anxiety melt away to be replaced with softness and love.

“it's over.” he confirms, tugging you in close. 

“the house?”

“a busted window and a downed tree blocking the driveway. that's all.” tyler presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent.

“wasn't bad then.” you wrap your arms around his waist, enjoying the warm embrace.

“no, but i got so fucking scared knowing you were here all alone.” tyler pulls away only to help you up the stairs, hating seeing you confined to the shelter even if it is to keep you safe.

“i just… i can't do this while you're pregnant. i can't leave you here, or anywhere, alone knowing something could happen to you.”

tyler pulls his phone out of his pocket and navigates to his youtube channel, going live and waiting for a couple users to join.

he holds the camera up so he can see himself and you, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

“as you folks know, my lovely wife here is pregnant with our first child. as much as i love tornado wrangling, i love my girl more. for the next six months im going to be taking a step back, but don't unsubscribe, boone is taking over to keep the excitement coming.”

he doesn't even say goodbye, simply ending the livestream, knowing one of his followers surely recorded it to spread the news around.

“ty, you didn't have to do that.”

“yes, i did.” tyler bends down to lift you up, carrying you across the threshold of your house just like he did the day you got married. “im gonna be with you throughout everything. tornados aren't more important than you.”

[eternalsams]

Okay Samy hear me out!!

Arthur and you are in this early relationship state where you just can't keep their hands off each other and basically do it all day everyday 🫣 but at camp, opportunities to be alone are rare and Arthur ends up being really frustrated he can't just take you as he pleases.

And you like teasing him knowing this😏 I mean, purposely unbuttoning more than usual your clothes to show your cleavage, bending forward to grab something just in front of him so he can see, "innocently" rubbing his forearm, stuff like that...

You drive him crazy, and I feel like at the end of the day he would just be tired of it and bring you somewhere to deal with this cheeky behavior 😌

Alone With You ➛ Arthur Morgan

pairing: high honor!arthur morgan x fem!reader

warning/content: 18+, fluff, early relationship stage, teasing, smut (unprotected p in v, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, body worship, praise kink, oral m!receiving, creampie), Arthur and reader in crotchless historically accurate underwears

summary: Was it really your fault if your hands always ended up on Arthur? You couldn't say so. But when Arthur decides to act on it, you're in for a treat.

word count: 4.9k

a/n: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Any minor interacting with this will be blocked. You have no idea how much research I made for this, about flowers in rdr2 but also about 19th century underwear, so everything is historically accurate.

red dead redemption masterlist main masterlist

You laughed at something Mary-Beth said as you kept rubbing the blood stains from the boys clothes. Your knees were hurting as you stayed on them all morning washing the camp's dirty laundry. Karen looked up over your shoulder and smirked. "I think Mr Morgan quite likes you, girl." She said as Tilly almost gave herself whiplash as she turned abruptly her head to look at the man a little further. You didn't even bother to look, you could feel his eyes on you. Just as much as he could feel yours when he was busy chopping wood. "Well, good for him because I'm quite fond of him too." You looked at her with a certain spark in your eyes. "So, you are making him all soft!" The blonde chuckled and you smiled at her. "If anything, I'm not making him soft." All three girls turned to look at you with wide eyes before you all burst out laughing.

You were about to share another bold secret when you felt a warm breath on your neck. "Having fun there, ladies?" Your friends' mouths shut as their cheeks flushed in embarrassment. But you only smiled more as you turned to face your lover. His long chestnut brown hair framing his face and tickling your skin. "Hey, cowboy." You leaned back as your felt Arthur's arms wrapped around you. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Hi, pretty girl. Mind if I steal you for a moment?" He didn't wait for an answer and lifted you on your feet, the girls giggling at Arthur's behavior.

You managed to avoid Ms Grimshaw's attention as Arthur pulled you behind a tree. "Feeling adventurous, Mr Morgan?" You whispered as your hands wandered down his chest, playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt. As you were about to unbuckle his belt, his hands stopped yours and he looked sternly into your eyes. "Behave." You smiled and retreated your hands.

He knew that look in your eyes. It was the same one you usually gave him when you'd bend over in front of him, picking something up and looking over your shoulder. Or when you'd let your hand run over his shoulders as he sat around the fire and you'd pass by behind him, your fingers catching the growing locks on his neck and gently tugging on the strands.

You brought up your hands at your own chest and snapped your fingers on the first button, opening your dress just a little bit. Arthur's eyes travelled down and he could guess the swell of your chest, his breath stuck in his throat. His fingers itching at his sides, not knowing if he should stop you or help you getting rid of your clothes. But he quickly made a choice when he heard Bill's voice behind him, reminding him of where you two were. He gently grabbed your hands and took them away from your dress. He kept his gaze on your chest as he buttoned back up your clothes. "I have to leave for a few days. Can you behave while I'm away?" He asked with a little smirk and you scoffed. "Of course, I can. Where are you heading to this time?" You asked as you started playfully fidgeting with his collar. "It's best for you if you don't know. But I'll be back into your arms before the end of the week." He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring deep into yours. "Promise?" You felt your cheeks eat up at the antic. "Promise, darlin'. I'll bring you back flowers and maybe you can guess where I've been from them." He smiled at you before kissing your forehead.

He made the habit of bringing you flowers from his trips so you could dry them and keep them in a little notebook he got you. You usually could tell where he wandered off based on what kind of flowers he brought you back. "I'll miss you." You pouted as you kept rubbed his knuckles with your thumb, your hand still in his. "I'll miss you too, pretty girl." He brought your hand to his lips and gently kissed your knuckles before pecking your lips and readjusting his hat on his head. He took a few steps back and walked to his horse. A beautiful liver chestnut mare he found in the wild and tamed.

You watched him mount the horse and walked up to them, patting the animal's neck before giving her a sugar cube you picked in Arthur's satchel. "I'll be back in a few days, wait for me." Arthur looked down at you with a tender smile. "Always." You smiled back at him as you took a few steps back, leaving room for his horse to turn and leave camp.

He gave you one last glance over his shoulders and you teasingly played with the laces of your dress, earning a laugh from him in the distance. You chuckled and laced back your clothes before joining back the girls to finish the laundry.

Just as he said, Arthur was back four days later, a dead deer attached to his horse, bringing food to the camp. You watched him carry the animal to Pearson from afar, admiring how he held the heavy carcass with one arm only, the muscles beneath his tan skin tensing with the effort. He then walked back to his horse and delicately took out a purple flower. You smiled, knowing already this one was for you. He quickly looked around and crossed gaze with you. You felt your cheeks flushing as his eyes bore into yours. He quickly made his way to you and took his hat off when he got close, offering you the flower. "I got this for you." He said lowly, his voice just a whisper like he was careful not to break the bubble of intimacy around the two of you. "Thank you, Arthur. It's really beautiful." You brought the orchid to your nose and inhaled softly, the delicate smell invading your senses. "Not as beautiful as you, I'm afraid." You looked up at him and noticed the little pout he gave you, earning a chuckle from you.

You also noticed the thicker stubble on his jaw and gently caressed the side of his face. "Do you need help shaving?" You asked, your fingers finding that little scarred spot on his chin where hair just refused to grow. "I'm all good, only if it's not uncomfortable for you." He smiled as he nuzzled his face in your neck, the rough facial hair scratching your skin and making you giggle. He delicately pulled the fabric of your dress off your shoulder and placed a gentle kiss there before kissing your neck and making his way up to your face with one last peck on your lips. You felt eyes on you and when you glanced past Arthur's shoulder, you crossed Hosea's eyes who was smiling at the two of you, loving to see his alleged son happy.

"Can you guess where I've been?" Arthur's drew your attention back to him as his thumbs started rubbing circles on your waist. You dropped your gaze to the flower in your hands. It was an orchid, that you knew, you recognized the singular shapes.

"It's an orchid." You said, still inspecting the flower. Arthur hummed in approval as he made you step back to join the confines of his tent. "It's not a lady of the night or a night scented, those are white. Or a ghost orchid." You then said as you blindly trusted Arthur with each step you took. "No, it's not." His voice was low. "So it's not the bayou." You kept inspecting the orchid as he smiled, impressed by how much you knew about the flowers he brought you. "Maybe a dragon's mouth? Those are purple right?" You tried to guess, looking up at Arthur with expecting eyes. The man chuckled lowly and shook his head. "It's not a dragon's mouth, guess again."

You felt the back of your knees bump into his cot and one of his hands left your waist to pull the flaps closed. "Oh, I know! It's a lady slipper!" You exclaimed and just as you were about to look up at Arthur, he crashed his lips on yours, swallowing your gasp.

His hands travelled up your body to your face and hold you against him, slowly parting your lips to taste you after days of longing for you. "Arthur... the flower..." You managed to say between hungry kisses. He delicately took the flower from your hand and put it on the little table next to his bed. "Can you guess where I've been then?" Arthur asked as his lips travelled back down your jaw to reach your neck. You tried to gather your thoughts to form a coherent sentence but all you could think about what Arthur's warm lips on your skin, raising goosebumps along your neck. "The...the bayou..?" You said the first place that came to your mind, earning a laugh from Arthur. "Oh, pretty girl... You said it couldn't be the bayou." He openly laughed at how any smart thought you had left your brain the moment his lips found yours. "...right." You sighed and as you were about to take another guess, a very singular Irish accent was heard. "Hey, are ye all not finished in here? It's still daytime now!"

You felt Arthur groan before you hard him, the vibrations of his voice running along your skin. You regained your train of thoughts and looked up at Arthur's closed eyes. "Big Valley. You went to Big Valley." You whispered as you tried to catch your breath. Arthur opened his eyes and smiled down at you, trying to forget Sean's stupid comments. "I sure did." He confirmed your guess and kissed your forehead. "Let me take you somewhere. Just the two of us, for a day or two." He practically begged you and you couldn't do anything else than smile at him. "Of course, I'll go anywhere as long as I'm with you."

"Let's go now." Arthur took your hand in his and went to open the tent's flaps. "Now?" You giggled, following him outside, where every pair of eyes stared at the two of you. "Then when? Let's go now, the others won't miss us." You turned to look at your friends and it was mostly the girls watching you from afar and trying to catch the interesting parts of your conversation. You waved them off and followed Arthur to his horse. He helped you get on the mare, making sure you were comfortable on the saddle before he jumped behind you, surprising the proud animal with the extra weight on her back. For a moment, you were worried you might hurt her back but Arthur reassured you she'd carried heavier than the two of you. "So, where are you taking me, Mr Morgan?" You asked as you turned your torso to look back at him. His arms were at each side of you, holding the reins, and his feet locked in the stirrups. "That, my lady, is a surprise. You'll have to be patient."

"Now, you know patience isn't one of my virtues, Arthur." You giggled as he led his horse out of camp. "That I know." He chuckled and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to keep you against him.

You had spent the entire afternoon riding West, following the setting sun and when you saw the silver lupine fields, you had no difficulty guessing where Arthur was taking you. West Elizabeth, Big Valley. And just as the sun finally disappeared behind the high mountains, Arthur's horse left the main road and sank into the woods, revealing a cute little house among the trees. "Found this cabin two days ago. I saw that huge buck last time I came here. Its coat was brown and white, I'd never seen any deer that color, it was splendid." Arthur told you as he stopped his horse in front of the little cabin. "Did you kill it?" You asked, you knew how much he loved wilderness but you also knew a large deer meant a lot of meat for camp. "I did. Took the meat, skinned it, kept the antlers to sell them. Brought back the meat in camp." He dismounted and helped you get off, catching you carefully as you set your feet back on the ground. "But I drew it in my journal for you." He offered you a smile and guided you to the cabin.

"So, when I left camp a few days ago, I wanted to find it. But I found this cabin first, empty. It's been abandoned years ago in my opinion, and nobody ever came back. I stayed here, got some rest after my trip and the next day, I grabbed my best rifle and went hunting. I got him after more than 10 hours out there." He said proudly and you couldn't help but chuckle. Arthur was a quiet man, a quiet soul, but it felt like when he was with you, he always wanted to tell you his exploits. He always had a story to tell or a question for you. Always wanted to talk with you.

He made sure to lock the front door after you and you discovered the insider of the abandoned cabin. It was a little cold but you noticed an old fireplace so you had no doubt Arthur was going to light a fire to warm you up for the night. "So, why did you bring me here, cowboy?" You asked as you leaned back on your hands on the table. You watched Arthur gathering the logs in the fireplace and cracking a match to start the fire. "You know why, pretty girl." He chuckled lowly as he made sure the fire would last all night. He then stood up and turned to you with a cocky smile. "Do I now?" You arched an eyebrow as he got closer and caged you between his arms. "The camp is too crowded for what I wanna do to you." He mumbled as he nuzzled his face in your neck, inhaling your perfume.

"And what is it you want to do, Mr Morgan?" You tilted your head back, giving him access to your neck. Your lover didn't answer, only planting kisses on your skin, his hands getting adventurous in your back. His fingers trailing down your back, his lips cascading down the column of your throat until he reached the cleavage of your dress, his nose slotting between your breasts. As he was about to reach to unbutton the front of your dress, you did it first, allowing him access to your chest. With one hand, he unhooked your corset, revealing the white chemise underneath. You watched his lips follow the path of his fingers, trailing down your chest as he tugged at the top of your chemise to kiss the swell of your breasts. "Arthur...please..." You sighed lowly, your fingers taking hold on his hair and guiding him where you wanted him.

He happily complied, devouring the supple skin revealing itself to him. You whined softly when he nibbled on the skin, leaving a light red mark before moving to your other breast. "We're all alone..." Arthur mumbled against your skin, moving back up to look into your eyes. "We are." You nodded, your breathing heavy and heart beating fast and hard in your chest. "And you're all mine." He gently grabbed your chin and made you look up into his eyes. "I am." You confirmed before he jumped on your lips, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he held you firmly against his lips. Your movements turned rushed as well, your hands trying to get rid of his coat, pulling the material down his arms as best as you could. He released your face to help you undress him, dragging his suspenders off his shoulders to pull the shirt off his torso.

The only few times you had been intimate with Arthur, you didn't really have the time to get fully undressed. He would usually push up your skirt to your waist, drag down his pants as best as he could to free himself of his confines and take you as fast and quiet as possible. The more of him you saw was when he was doing chores around camp. Chopping wood, carrying haystacks. And that only if the sun was high in the sky, forcing him to work shirtless because of the heat. So when he threw his shirt away, putting you face to face with his naked torso, you felt yourself blush. Your hands started shaking with anticipation and you fought the urge to caress the patches of hair on his chest. You looked back up at him and noticed how dark his eyes were, his pupils completely blown by desire.

"You're so beautiful..." He breathed out quietly, as if to keep the privilege of seeing you like this only to himself. Not daring to draw any attention on you and keep you to himself. Your body received a rush of confidence from his praise and you snaked your arms around his middle, pushing him onto the bed a little further into the cabin. He sat down on it and pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs. His face was once again on the same level as your breasts and he couldn't resist getting lost in the warm flesh one more time. Your hands made quick work on getting rid of your chemise, revealing your naked form to him as he maintained your hips nestled against his.

Occasionally, he'd thrust up his hips, searching friction on his hardening member. And you'd whine, feeling your arousal pool in your lower belly and soak your thighs. "Let's get you rid of this, shall we?" Arthur said in a low voice, the desire well known in his tone. He finished pulling your dress off your body, almost ripping it off you in the process. Now that you were only wearing the bottom of your undergarment, he could clearly see the wet spot on your inner thighs. Arthur was never one to really pay attention to fashion but when he saw the crotchless underwear you were wearing, he thanked all the gods that could hear him. He snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger up your folds, finding them drenched. You moaned his name as you clutched his hair in your grip.

You leaned down and started peppering kissed along his neck, moving up to his ear to kiss the sensitive skin behind it. His free hand was on your ass, holding you firmly against him and encouraging you to ride his hand. And you did, you started rolling your hips, chasing pleasure along his digits. "Such a good girl for me. All soaked and ready for me to take her." He cooed at you, relishing on the lewd sounds of your wet cunt sliding on his hand. "Say it, baby. Say you're my good girl." Arthur looked up at you expectantly. As you were about to answer him, you felt one of his fingers slide in and curl at the perfect spot, making you whine. "We're alone. You can be as loud as you need to. Let me hear you." he said as he kissed the underside of you jaw as you tilted your head back in pleasure. "I'm yours... I'm your good girl." You managed to pronounce, that usual coil starting to tighten in your stomach.

You slightly pulled on Arthur's hair and whined his name, asking for more. He kept peppering kisses along your throat and added another finger in your cunt, feeling your walls stretch around his digits and accommodate to their size. "You're being so good for me. What a good girl you are." He smiled up at you and pulled you down to kiss you. He didn't waste any time before running his tongue along your lips and tasting your moans and whimpers. His fingers were still brushing that delicious spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer and closer. Until you forcefully grabbed his wrist with one hand, pulled on his hair with the other and your whole body tensed up with your orgasm. Arthur let go of your lips as you cried out his name, your voice breaking with the intensity of your release. Your walls spasmed around his fingers and he kept curling them until you completely rode out your orgasm.

When he made sure you were back to him, he carefully pulled his fingers out, admiring your creamy release on them. He brushed his fingers on your lips, leaving a trail of cum across them before sucking one finger into his mouth, tasting the very essence of you. Your tongue darted out automatically, tasting yourself. You opened your eyes and grabbed Arthur's hand, bringing his fingers to your lips and licking them clean. You felt his cock twitch beneath you at the action, his eyes darkening even more as he watched you suck his fingers and savoring your own release off them. As you let go of his fingers, he immediately kissed you, licking the inside of your mouth to taste the remnant of your juices on your tongue. You moaned against him and made quick work to open his pants, getting impatient and needy.

Arthur slightly jumped and flinched as your fingers first brushed his erection. "Hey, slow down, girl. I'm not gonna last long if we don't take it slow." He gently kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around your waist, spinning you and laying you down on the bed. He pulled off your undergarment and kissed your navel before getting off the bed. He didn't take his eyes off you as he kicked off his boots and pulled down his pants, throwing the jeans somewhere in the cabin. You would've laughed at him for standing so proud half naked, hard cock standing against his belly, in a cabin that wasn't even yours if you weren't so desperate for him to take you. You reached out for him and pulled him to you.

You delicately pulled his underwear down his legs and wrapped your hands around his base, guiding him to your lips. His hand automatically reached for your hair without griping it. You watched as his eyes fell closed, lost in pleasure. You started with a few kisses on his tip, relishing at the taste of the precum gathered there. "God dammit..." You heard him swear above you, not knowing what to do with his hands. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your jaw, inviting him to hold your face. You parted your lips and slowly pulled him into your mouth. Arthur growled, his thumb rubbing on your cheek to distract him but the moment he felt his cock nudging the inside of your cheek and poking at his thumb, he was a goner. He pushed you off him and you released him with a pop. "I can't- I can't..." He sighed out, out of breath. You looked up at him, a string of spit mixed with precum still attached your lips to his tip.

"What can't you do?" You asked quietly, your heart beating fast with how nervous those two words made you.

He looked down at you and felt his heart break in his chest when he noticed the doubt in your eyes. He quickly kneeled down in front of you and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. "I cannot possibly last if you keep that up." He tried to reassure you between two kisses. You giggled and pulled him on top of you, laying back down on the cot. His hands were nowhere and everywhere at the same time, his hips pressing against yours and his pubes scratching your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your entire body. You caught Arthur's lip between your teeth and nibble on the rosy flesh. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this." He murmured, grabbing his cock between your two bodies and giving it a few slow pumps.

"How long I've waited to have you all to myself and have you screaming my name. Can't have that in camp, yeah?" He pushed his tip against your folds, gathering your arousal and use it as lube. You squirmed and whined, trying to catch his cock with your hole, feeling like you were about to explode if he didn't take you soon. "Well, I wouldn't mind the others to hear. Everyone in camp would know who you belong to, who makes you feel so good you can't do anything but scream my name." He chuckled, bringing his tip to your entrance and pushing in slowly, allowing just the tip to be embraced by your warmth. "Sweet heavens..." He closed his eyes, trying not to shoot his load too fast.

His words had you giggling, his voice anchoring you to reality and the present moment. "You ain't even a believer." You brought your hands to his face, cradling it in your palms. "I know heavens exist, and it's between your legs. You devious goddess..." He sighed and nuzzled his face in your neck, slowly pushing his cock deeper inside you. You could feel every inch of him push against your inner walls, stretching them and carving them with his imprint, his veins. His hands pushed your thighs apart, giving more space for his hips to kiss yours. "Just take me, Arthur... Please." You whined and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to you. "Alright...alright..." He put one of his hands on your hips and pushed all the way in, until he felt his balls slap your ass and heard his name gasped from your lips. He pulled almost all the way out and thrusted back in, his hips hitting yours at a dangerous pace.

You could hear him mumble things against your skin. And when he wasn't mumbling, he was kissing your skin, practically making out with your neck and leaving purple marks on your skin. One of his hands shot down to your clit and started drawing circles on the bundle of nerves, trying to get you closer to the edge. You wrapped one of your legs around his hips, the new angle having the both of you moaning as he hit that spongy spot inside you. Your voice getting higher and your cunt tighter were a clear sign you were getting closer and Arthur couldn't get more addicted. "That's it, sweet girl. Take what you need, cum for me. Cum on my cock." He grunted as he felt his own release approach, his balls tightening with pleasure as he fought against his instincts to keep his orgasm at bay.

Your moans got louder and your grip on Arthur's hair tighter as you felt your cunt contracting as a wave of pleasure flooded you before every muscle of your body relaxed at the same time, the euphoria having you see stars. Arthur couldn't help the moans from slipping between his lips as he felt your cunt squeezing him. The sight of you cumming on his cock and the sound of his name screamed in such a way pushed him over the edge. The pleasure was so intense, the thought of pulling out wasn't even in his mind, your cunt milking him for everything he had. You felt the warmth of his release pool into you, painting your inner walls white. A low whine left his lips as your cunt clenched around him in overstimulation. You pulled his head out of your neck and brought his face to yours, kissing his lips. His eyes were closed as he tried to compose himself.

"You're okay?" You whispered, pushing a strand of sweaty golden hair out of his face. He weakly nodded and opened his eyes, piercing your own with his green orbs. He gently pulled out, not without a whine from you, feeling way too empty after the moment you just shared. He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on before taking his shirt and pouring some clean water on it. You watched him carefully, laying naked on the bed, still floating in your post-orgasm euphoria. He kneeled in front of the fire and held out his damp shirt for a few second, warming up the garment before walking back to you. He delicately pulled your thighs apart and watched his release drip out of you before cleaning you up with the warm wet shirt. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me to finish inside." He whispered as he massaged your thigh with his free hand. "It's alright." You sat up and kissed him on the lips. You offered him a smile and he gave you one back.

He went to grab your chemise and your undergarment and gave them to you before he slid under the covers, pulling you onto him when you were done dressing back up. He wrapped his arms around you and inhaled the sweet perfume in your hair, probably a new soap you found in town. He closed his eyes, relishing on the feeling of your body against his, nothing to hear except the crackling of the flammes in the fireplace. No Micah annoying the ladies, no Bill telling some perverse story. Only the fire and your breathing, the feeling of your beating heart against your chest. Those long awaited three words almost made their way out of Arthur's lips that night, but he caught them and swallowed them back, feeling like it wasn't the right time. so he simply held you close, his heart beating in symbiosis with yours.

[lex-the-flex]

Misty Mornings

Origins!Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: On this particular morning, Logan is in need of a shave, and you’re more than happy to take on the job.

Word Count: 650

Warning(s): None, PURE FLUFF! (Cause Logan deserves it). A tiny amount of nervousness.

A/N: If I had a man that would let me do this, I’d be his forever. (Basically a MEGA GREEN FLAG) Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

The low coo of multiple mourning doves echo across the woods lingering beyond your backyard. The strong scent of the early morning lake balances itself against the soft and subtle fog hovering over the calm water as the morning sun threatens to break the cool air. Pulling your knitted blanket closer, a calm breeze welcomes the ambiance and colors of Autumn to the secluded place you call home. 

Being fully engrossed in your novel, you don’t hear Logan walking down the dock. Turning the page, the creaking sound of the wooden deck brings you back to reality.

“Baby?” He asks. 

“Hi, Lo.” You respond. 

Closing your book, you stand up to greet Logan with a warm hug. Extending on your toes, he briefly presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“What are you doing out here? You’ll catch a cold.” Logan replies. 

“It’s not snowing yet, babe. Trust me.” You smile, before reaching down to pick up your book. 

Offering his hand to you, you close your palm around Logan’s fingers as he leads you back towards the elegant two storied cabin. Folding your blanket, you throw it on the back of an armchair along with your book. 

Following Logan into the kitchen, you hop up on the granite countertop, and he turns on the coffee pot. Gazing up at Logan, you hum to yourself at the sight before you. 

“What is it?” He asks with a sly grin. 

“Nothin’. I’m just not used to you ever being in the kitchen. It’s still strange to me.” You explain. 

“Oh, yeah? And how long have we been together?” Logan questions, walking to you. 

Placing both of his hands on either side of your hips, you tilt your head backwards and wrap your arms around his large shoulders. Smiling, the two of you just gaze at each other lovingly for a moment, silently enjoying the peace. 

Running your fingers through Logan’s thick dark hair, he lightly chuckles when you move onto his slightly overgrown beard. 

“Hmm, you need to shave.” You firmly state, tickling his scruff. 

“Is that a threat, darlin’?” He teases. 

“Maybe… Will you let me trim your beard this time? Please?” You ask. 

Determined to get an answer, Logan finally agrees, ultimately losing the never-ending battle. 

Leaving you in the kitchen, Logan shortly returns with his shaving kit. Placing it on the counter next to you, he unzips the small leather pouch and takes out a pair of scissors. Handing them to you, Logan carefully returns his hands to your hips, eager to see what you’ll do. Softly cutting off pieces of your lover’s beard, you suddenly become focused on the task at hand, unaware of Logan’s loving and intrigued stare. 

HIs light hazel eyes glance deeply along the edges of your face, studying the details of your focused state. Unconsciously wrapping your legs around Logan’s waist, he slowly pulls you closer, wanting to be more intimate. Your heart begins to pound in your chest, nearing the end of your task. 

“I”m almost done, babe.” You whisper, flicking away the remnants of his beard. 

Finishing up, you set down the scissors and wipe Logan’s freshly trimmed jawline. 

“There you go, you’re all nice and clean.” You reply. 

“Mmm, thank you, Y/N. It feels so much better already. You should imagine it.” Logan teases. 

Lowering his lips to the nape of your neck, Logan playfully kisses the soft skin of your neck. Allowing you to feel the fresh scruff tickle you, a smile creeps on his lips whilst a gentle moan escapes your mouth. 

“Okay, cowboy… le–” You try, but can’t. 

Unable to push Logan away, you find yourself craving his touch even more. Tangling your fingers in his thick hair, his mouth searches for yours. Kissing you passionately, your fingers grip Logan’s strong muscles whilst he lifts you from the counter and carries you deeper into the house. 

wolverine masterlist ~

@dreamliners

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@misssarcasm15

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgal

@mostly-marvel-musings

[teaboot]

Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing

I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect

Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with

Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.

Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings

Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.

Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.

Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless

Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy

[topguncortez]

Sunburn - K. Dutton

whumptober masterlist || previous day

prompt: Heatstroke

synopsis: The Montana summers weren't for the weak. You and Kayce have unspoken history.

warnings: heatstroke, passing out, vomiting, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug usage, mentions of running away, Monica and Tate don't exist.

word count: 2.1k

There was something about Montana summers. 

The valley in which the Yellowstone ranch laid, had its fair share of weather changes. The winters were brutal, feet of snow coating the land, the wind bitter against the skin making it hard to want to get up in the morning and do chores. Spring usually brought inches upon inches of rain, damn near flooding the place and making it a muddy mess trying to move cattle in preparation for breeding season. Fall was a vibrant display of changing leaves, and the scent of fields being harvested in time before the first frost. 

But the summers, the summers were something else. Blame global warming, or whatever you wanted, but the summers in Montana were hot and steamy. The sun was unforgiving most days, beating down on you and your horse as you worked from sunup till sundown, training and cleaning horse stalls, helping move cattle from pasture to pasture, and carrying out the daily maintenance of the ranch. Most of the cowboys didn’t have an issue, but you on the other hand, never quite got along with the heat. 

It was supposed to be an “easy day”, Rip had barked at all of you as you shuffled into the barn to get tack up your horses, but the sun was already blaring its god awful rays down on the earth. Your skin felt sticky from the humidity and your hair was already sticking to your forehead underneath your hat. You left your water jug in the bunkhouse, choosing to fuel your body with the dark roast coffee Loyd had made instead. 

“You think the Devil just walked up here and decided to fuck with the temperature,” Ryan said, sitting on top of the fence, watching you and Colby rake it out. 

“Don’t know,” Colby grunted, “Think you could quit fucking complaining and help?” 

“I don’t want to melt,” Ryan chirped back and you rolled your eyes. The two of them fought like an old married couple most days.

Colby and Ryan were the first two to make you feel welcome in the bunkhouse. It was hard walking into a house full of men, no one knowing who you are or what you had shown up at the ranch for. Everyone knew bits and pieces of your story, you had known Kayce when you were younger, highschool sweethearts or something of the sort. He was the one who got away, or so you had said. While he was thriving in the military, you were left behind, struggling and doing anything you could to make a buck. You had shown up on his doorstep, soaking wet in the rain and begging for a job, begging to finally leave behind the life you had created for yourself. Kayce barely gave you the time of day, telling you to walk back down the road, take a left, and keep going until you reach the bunkhouse, that there would be someone there to help you. Since then, you and Kayce had been walking on eggshells around each other. 

“Okay, Princess,” You rolled your eyes, lifting your hat slightly off your head, and wiping away the sweat, “It’s fucking hot.” You stared at the heat waves rippling off of the earth for a moment, as the familiar sound of cowboy boots crunching on the gravel drew close. 

“What up, boss man,” Kolby greeted Kayce with a nod of his head, “Come to sweat with the worst of us?” 

“No, I need the girl,” Kayce said gruffly, and you turned to look at him, “We’re moving cattle. Let’s go,” He turned and walked back the direction he came without another word. You scoffed, throwing the pitchfork down. 

“What a fucking douche,” You grumbled, but went and followed after him to where the horses were enjoying the cool air of the barn. Kayce’s horse, of course, was already saddled up. You weren’t about to ask him for help as you grabbed your saddle from the wall, and walked down to your horse’s stall. You could feel his impatient tension like an extra cloud of heat in the air. 

“Ready?” Kayce asked as you walked your horse down the barn alley, and you nodded, silently following him outside. 

The two of you rode in silence for most of the journey, slowly but surely pushing cattle from one pasture into another. You weren’t sure why you, of all the people on the Yellowstone Ranch, had to be the one out here, sweating with Kayce. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded the silent rides through the rolling fields, but it wasn’t just the heat making you not want to be out here. 

Kayce thought that asking you to come out here with him would be the perfect chance to tell you how he felt. He, just as much as you, was tired of the awkward dance that you had been doing since you showed up. He didn’t need to ask too many questions that night when you came knocking on his door, soaked to the bone, nothing more than skin and bones. When he left for the Navy, a mere days after graduation and breaking your heart, he had asked Beth to keep an eye out for you. Begrudgingly, she did so, and told him about the shift in your life. You had always dreamed of getting out of Montana, but you never made it that far. 

Every time Kayce thought of saying something, of apologizing or even just asking how you have been, his mouth went dry and his mind blank. Instead, he thought that maybe even getting you near would break some of the tension, but he was so wrong. It seemed as if the tension had picked up a notch as the two of you rode next to each other. 

“Fuck, is it hotter out here, or is it just me,” You mumbled as you sat on top of your horse. The body heat from the animal was soaking into you, paired with the brutal beatdown from the sun, your skin felt like it was physically burning. 

“Complainin’ ain’t gonna make the sun go away,” Kayce said back and you rolled your eyes. The last thing you needed was the sass from him. Your skin felt dry and your head was pounding. All you wanted was to feel the cold stream of water in the bunkhouse shower. 

— — — 

You had never felt so happy to have your feet back on the ground. Three hours sitting up on a horse in the sun, slowly moving cattle into a new pasture. You knew that your shoulders were horribly sunburnt, and the sweat stains in between your thighs from sitting on the saddle made it look like you wet yourself. 

Kayce felt happy too, to be back on solid ground. He would be lying if he said the heat hadn’t gotten to him either. He was used to being in hot temp areas, but he would take being in full kit in Afghanistan versus sitting on a horse waiting for cattle to hurry up and move. Kayce had taken his horse back to the barn, carefully taking the tack off of him and hanging it up. He told Loyd to give the animal a good wash down, wanting to make sure his horse was cooled down before being put away for the night. 

Kayce slowly made his way down the alley of the barn, stopping just right outside of your horse’s stall. He had been thinking of what he was going to say to you since the moment he got you alone out in the field. The two of you had yet to have “the talk” since you arrived months ago, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without it. Every time he saw you, the words that he wanted to say were right at the tip of his tongue, but the second you looked at him, they all seemed to go blank. But now, it was as good a time as any. 

“Y/N,” Kayce said, stepping into the horse stall. You stood by your horse, your hand on its belly, back facing Kayce, “We need to talk.” 

You blinked a couple of times, trying to stop the black spots floating in your vision, and trying to keep yourself up right. You felt like your knees could give out at any moment. 

“Y/N?” Kayce called out. He reached out to touch your shoulder, as you doubled over and vomited into the hay sheddings, “Holy shit,” Kayce moved quickly, rushing to you as your legs gave out and you collapsed in his arms. He was alarmed by the flush color of your skin, and your chapped lips. Your eyes looked glossed over as you looked up at Kayce. 

“I-I don’t feel,” Your words were slurred as Kayce hoisted you up in his arms. 

“I know, we gotta cool you down,” Kayce said to you, and you weakly nodded your head. 

Kayce moved you quickly to the bunkhouse, the first flash of cool air made you instantly shiver. He walked you to the bathroom, and you were thankful that the house seemed to be quiet, not wanting any of the other cowboys to see you like this. It was hard enough being one of the only females here, you didn’t need this to be held over your head. Kayce gently sets you down on the shower tile, reaching above you and barely turning the water on. The second the cold water hit your skin, you gasped.

“No! No!” You cried. 

“It’s okay,” Kayce cooed, “I have to cool you down.” 

“Please,” Tears were welling in your vision, and you weren’t really sure why you were crying. You summed it up to your body being in such shock, you didn’t have control over your emotions. 

“It’s okay,” Kayce said again, running a hand up and down your back as you leaned into him, feeling your body grow weak again, “You’re going to be okay. It’ll be okay.” You let out a whine as your body had shifted temperature, but welcomed the cool water against your warm skin. 

— — — 

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep or maybe you passed out, but you woke up in an unfamiliar bed, with a box fan pointed right at you. It took you a moment, your head pounding as you looked around the room, noticing the various country-esq landscape paintings and the giant deer head on the wall. It was nearing night time, or so you had guessed by the last remnants of the sunset peaking through the wooden blinds. You tried to sit up, but let out a groan instead, your head starting to swim and black spots filling your vision. 

“Y/N?” You froze as you heard Kayce’s voice from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?” 

‘Holy shit’ You cursed to yourself, ‘I’m in Kayce’s room.’ 

“Yeah,” Your voice was raspy, and you could still feel the sting of bile. 

Ever so gently, Kayce pushed the door to his bedroom open, sticking his head in first before coming all the way in, “Hey,” You nodded your head as he walked towards you, a glass of water in his hand and some tylenol, “Drink this and take these. It’ll help the headache and muscle cramps.” 

“How do you know?” You asked, taking the water and medicine. Now that he mentioned it, your legs felt heavier than normal with a slight ache to them. 

“They train you on the basics of heat stroke in the Navy,” Kayce said, “Seen one too many guys fall over.” You felt your cheeks pink up in embarrassment, “No one saw, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Am I that transparent?” You said barely above a whisper, “You didn’t have to bring me here. They would’ve taken care of me at the bunkhouse.” 

“I know,” Kayce swallowed thickly. He wasn’t all too sure why he had picked you up and put you in his truck, driving back to his house for you to rest somewhere quiet and comfortable. But he did, and he didn’t regret it. He knew that he would’ve been a nervous wreck leaving you in the bunkhouse, “I needed to make sure you were going to be okay. . . You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked out. 

“Don’t apologize, Y/N,” Kayce said, shifting closer to you on the bed, “One of my first summer's running cattle with my dad, I did the same thing. We’d been out all day and came back, and the second I climbed off my hose I hit the ground. Face first in shit shavings,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, “At least you picked a clean stall to upchuck and pass out in.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks for catching me.” 

“Always,” Kayce said, grabbing your hand. You glanced down between your hands and back up at Kayce, who had a slight blush on his face. He went to pull his hand away but you squeezed it and then laced your fingers with his.

[rhenuvee]

Playing Animal Crossing New Horizons with HSR Men

Warnings: ugly villager slander, established relationship (can be platonic or romantic)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Argenti: Your fellow knight of beauty grows quite fond of the game, immediately finding the freedom of creativity in decoration endearing. He always gives you compliments on your OOTD, and takes screenshots whenever you design a new area on your island. Argenti gave himself the gardening job- spending his bells on red rose seeds. He gets proficient in following the flower guide, and is very proud of himself if he ever gets a golden rose on your island. He loves the villagers, finding them each very cute, and even beauty in the "ugly" villagers. "Did you see the villagers wearing the red rose on their head? I must say I am flattered they love it so much. Though, I am more happy that they appreciate the beauty of our island." He enjoys documenting the beautiful places in your island with photos <3

Aventurine: From the beginning he points out the fact that Tom Nook is a capitalist, which makes you roll your eyes thinking he thinks this game is silly. However, it is quite the opposite as it doesn't take him long to get out of his home loan debt and is somehow extremely lucky. It's unfair to you that he could just log in on any given day and have the best deal for turnips. However because you are his favourite he says he’s willing to buy you whatever you want, he guesses. He happens to be able to catch rare species like the Coelacanth, and it infuriates you but you really can't be if it's helping the museum. "445 bells per turnip, sounds like music to my ears~" "What's that? You want this violin? Well I guess I could spare you a few bells... is one million okay?"

Blade: Let's not kid ourselves here- it takes a lot of convincing and help from Silver Wolf to get him to even be in the presence of Animal Crossing. He says he would much rather stand and look at the wall (SW: "You already do that everyday"). Eventually he sits himself next to you, and listens to your giddy rambling about what to do in the game while he puts on a serious face not saying anything. After the preliminary tutorial/startup gameplay, he finally says, “…why is this rat harassing me for money.” However, the loans aren't the worst but the villagers chasing him down are. He purposely ignores them and grumbles when you tell him to answer ):/. He prefers to watch you play, but because he sees you smile and laugh at his sarcastic comments, he thinks it's not so bad.

Boothill: He's definitely down to try it out, but he ends up being a bit of a troll. He doesn't really mind cute/ugly villagers, until he judges them for what they say. “That’s right, (y/n) did catch all those fish.” “Did he just ask me if he could call me Muffin.” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I GOTTA PAY ANOTHER LOAN?!!?” Yeah… he quickly feels the grindy-ness, complaining that Tom Nook was working him like a forkin’ dog. A little bit of comical rage, but he won’t lie he is enjoying it. He also asks if there are any guns and he is disappointed, so he opts for the net. He's a little rough and rowdy, but he does it in style. That being said, he 100% spends his extra bells on a cowboy outfit.

Dan Heng: He agrees instantly- aw :(. He knows you (and March) have been begging him to play. He’s is fairly good at it- gets out of the tent quickly, masters catching creatures, a nicely organized house… He’s quite resourceful too, chopping down trees and going to mystery islands to farm the heck out of it. The villagers love him, both of you often seeing them run to him with the little sparkly flowers. And even though he's normally serious, you can't help but fawn over how sweet he is with the villagers. "...She wants to call me Shmoopy, do I-" "YES." Villagers asking him to catch a fish? He's immediately on it. He remembers their names and treats them like real people :(

Dr. Ratio: "Is it educational?" Bro is such a nerd. You deadpan at him, and sass him for expecting this to be IXL or something. He is also one to get through the tutorial part easily. You expected him to be overly critical of the game, but he finds appreciation in the museum: both the creatures and the art. Is it a farfetched idea that I think he'd know how to tell the reals and fakes right off the bat? "Do you really think Da Vinci spilled coffee on his work?" At least it saves you the troubles of wasting your bells and getting a fake. I think your island would not be a mess, and would have at least a few statues (you know the ones) which add his touch to it.

Gallagher: Honestly he's happy as long as he gets a little area for himself. Kind of a wild card this one- somehow calm and chaotic at the same time, and it's puzzling because how is he doing such weird things with a straight face? Trolls the villagers quite a bit (he's lucky ACNH villagers are nice) by hitting them with a net (just once though) and giving them different catchphrases every time they ask. "Why is Bob saying 'spaghettini' at the end of his sentences?" "Um, because I thought it'd be funny? Also I'm kinda hungry so-" "Gallagher ):/" Despite the randomness, he is wholesome at times. He is also one to compliment your new outfit, and stargaze with you on the new area you decorated.

Gepard: He's busy so you weren't expecting too much from him, but he takes pride in having a well-rounded island. He gets so excited when he catches a new species that you don't have yet- what a cutie. Also goes full throttle when there's a bug-off or fishing tourney. Despite being a video game, I feel like there will be some way he messes up taking care of plants. The flowers overgrow, the turnips rot, and he doesn't understand why the trees aren't growing? But with some tips from you along with your island designing skills, your island rank moves up and he is BEAMING. "Zucker asked about you." "...he did?" "Mhm, he asked how you were doing, and said he saw you laying out pathways on the island."

Jing Yuan: He finds it so cute when you ask him to play. Lowkey like Blade where he likes watching your happy expressions when playing. He's happy that this game provides him a way to relax while not getting bored. Secretly an enjoyer of villager drama: "Wolfgang wants to apologize to Audie with this present. What happens if I don't deliver it?" "Again? Ah, just give it to her quickly." "...what if I don't." "...Jing Yuan." Oddly I feel like he'd enjoy the group stretching (what an old man), and encourages you to join. Like the "Dozing General" he is, there will be times when he's inactive and gets the bed head.

Luocha: You weren't expecting him to enjoy the game, but he's surprisingly willing to be resourceful. His storage is full of materials, which you scold him for because this is the reason for his empty undecorated house. But he always has things you need so you can't exactly complain. Also one to be pretty smart with managing bells and resources, able to maximize their worth. When the island gets visitors like Label or Flick, he has items ready. "Luocha... where did you get that coat?" "This? It's a designer piece, from Miss Label." I'd say he does have a sense of beauty in design, so thankfully your island is gorgeous.

Sampo: Sympathizes with Redd like a true scammer. "Aw look, he just needs a bit of money to get started... he even gave us a 'cousin's discount'." However, a rivalry starts with Redd when Sampo's first art piece turned out to be fake (scammer gets scammed moment). He asks if he can be the salesman that he's supposed to be. When villagers run up to him to offer bells for an item he has, he accepts thinking it'll get him a deal along the way. Unfortunately friendship gets you nowhere in terms of home loans. I'd say he's pretty good with the turnip stonks, so there's a balance. Also TRASH ISLAND. I'm sorry, but your man is a hoarder, "But what if I need this?" (Literally me.)

Welt: When you ask him to play he asks why the animals are crossing. He finds the style and characters are so cute, and he can see why you enjoy it. This is definitely a way he gets in touch with his "youthful" side. He loves the creative freedom in the game, even getting indecisive about how to design your island, and thinking of what outfit to wear. He once made a simple t-shirt for fun, but was surprised when he saw a villager wearing it. It'd be so cute and funny when he learns new emotes- and he just spams them with a straight face. Not gameplay related, but I feel like in his free time he'd draw you both in villager form <3.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

money troubles

Januarys in Tulsa were a different kind of hell. You wouldn’t think it would get that cold in Oklahoma, but Darry was surprised every year when December rolled around. His brothers hoarded blankets, stacking them as high as they could go. January and February were even worse.

It was his first winter without his parents, without his father’s salary. Heat was expensive, more so since their windows were thin and the doors couldn’t shut properly. Darry held out as long as possible before turning the heating on.

Pony grumbled a little, wrapping up in blankets and wearing Darry’s old football sweatshirts over every outfit. 

One night in December, Darry was half asleep when his bedroom door opened and his brothers padded their way over to his bed. He barely had enough time to wake up before they crawled on top of him and settled down. Before he could ask what was wrong, he felt Pony’s cold toes being pressed to his shin.

“Y’all are freezing,” Darry murmured as Soda snuggled into his side, forcing his cold nose against Darry’s shoulder. He sighed and rubbed their backs, “I’ll turn on the heat tomorrow.” With his Christmas bonus, they would be fine with the added expense. 

January was when things got hard. 

It was midnight and Darry sat alone at the dining table. When finances were tight, he always did the bookkeeping after the boys went to bed. He didn’t need them worrying, that was his job. And based on his calculations, they’d have to cut back somewhere. It was heat or food. 

Darry’s head fell into his hands. What the hell was he supposed to do? He never wished for his parents more than he did at that moment. A tear dripped onto the notebook paper in front of him. 

He could eat less, leave more for everyone else. That would save some money at least. But not nearly enough. Pony had track, he needed to be eating his fill. And if they didn’t eat with them, he didn’t know where half the gang would get their next meal. 

But if he turned off the heat, well he honestly didn’t know what would happen. He knew he couldn’t stand to see his brothers shivering in the cold, he couldn’t watch them bundle up and pretend nothing was wrong.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

He didn’t hear the front door opening, or the footfalls in the entryway. He didn’t know that Two-Bit was inside until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Darry jumped, raising his hands defensively.

Two-Bit smirked and raised his hands, “Woah there, cowboy.” Then he saw the tears in Darry’s eyes. “What’s goin’ on? Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine.” Darry swallowed thickly and ran a hand over his face, “Ain’t nothing for you to worry about. The couch is open if you want to crash.”

Two-Bit’s eyes fell to the page in front of Darry and his eyes widened. Too late, Darry moved to cover it. Two had already seen. “Shit, I didn’t know things were that bad.”

“It’s none of your business,” Darry said shortly. He closed the notebook and slid it under a newspaper. 

He tried to stand up, but Two put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to stay seated. Two-Bit sat down in Pony’s usual chair. He was quiet for a long moment, leg jogging under him. Then he nodded to himself and started digging in his pockets.

A moment later, he put a handful of crumpled bills and a stack of coins in front of Darry. Based on his quick math, it was almost twenty five dollars.

“I’m not takin’ your money.” Darry leaned back as though physical distance could make the money go away. “Where did you even get this much money?”

Two-Bit shrugged, “Texas Hold ‘Em, odd jobs for a guy my ma knows. It’s not even that much money.” It was. It would be enough for food and heat and extra for next month.

“I can’t take this,” Darry pushed it towards his friend. He and Two-Bit had been pals for as long as he could remember, they practically grew up together. Two-Bit was a good guy, Darry trusted him with his family more than anyone else. He knew that Two could use this money for his mom or his sister. Why on earth would he give it to Darry?

“You need it. It’s not even that much.” Two-Bit sighed and for the first time in a long time, Darry didn’t smell alcohol on him. “Look, you help me and the boys, you give us food and…” He nodded his head towards the bedrooms, “I know Johnny is sleeping in the spare room. You forced him to so he wouldn’t sleep outside.” Darry looked down, it was true. “Exactly. So take the goddamn money and keep your kid brothers warm. And the rest of us yahoos that traipse through your door.”

Darry stared at Two-Bit, saying nothing. Two-Bit rolled his eyes, “It should not be this hard to convince a guy to take money.” 

“I don’t-”

“Darry.” Two-Bit and Darry turned around to see Soda standing in the doorway. His hair was all a mess and he looked like he was still half asleep. “What’s going on?”

Darry threw on a smile, “A stray just wandered through the door.” He slapped Two-Bit on the shoulder. “Figured I’d let him stay the night and then go from there. Ya think we should keep him?”

Soda chuckled, “Just until morning.” He yawned. “Y’all need to talk quieter. Pony and Johnny are fast asleep.”

“Will do,” Darry told him. “Goodnight, Pepsi.” Soda just yawned again and waved before plodding back to bed. Darry’s eyes stayed at where he was for a long moment. Then he turned back to his friend. 

Soda and Pony deserved a home that was warm and safe and with enough food for them and all their friends. They needed this money. He could suffer the shame of accepting money from a friend just this once. 

So he grit his teeth and said, “I don’t want to be makin’ a habit of this.”

Two-Bit grinned, “Wouldn’t dream of it, superman.” 

He squeezed Darry’s shoulder, “I’m going to sleep on the couch, tell Johnny that I get the bed next time.” Darry snorted and shook his head, that was never going to happen.

Darry looked at the pile of money for a long moment. His hands shook ever so slightly as he tucked it into the coffee can on top of the fridge. 

When he turned back, Soda was standing in the doorway again, watching him. He seemed more awake now. They just looked at each other for a long moment.

Soda crossed the room in two strides and hugged Darry. Just from that, Soda knew Darry had heard, or at least seen his exchange with Two-Bit. He knew that Soda worried about him, probably far too much. To Soda, Darry accepting help was nothing short of a miracle. 

“I love you,” Soda said softly. “You’re doing a really good job.”

Darry’s throat became thick with tears and he held Soda just a little tighter. “Thank you, honey.” Since their parents died, he’d been adrift, trying desperately to keep everything together. He kissed Soda’s head, “I love you too.” Darry pulled back and pushed Soda’s hair out of his face. Without all that grease, Soda’s hair was constantly covering his eyes. “Go back to bed.”

Soda huffed, “What if I don’t wanna?”

Darry couldn’t help the laugh that bust from his chest, “You’re soundin’ an awful lot like Ponyboy.”

“And he’s my favorite brother, so what?” Soda said sarcastically, earning him a thawk on the head from Darry. A few months ago, that would have hurt, even if it was a joke. Now he knew his brother was being a knucklehead, delirious in his sleep-addled mind. 

“Go to bed, short stack,” Darry said, giving Soda a light shove towards the hallway. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Soda smirked. He gave Darry another quick squeeze before darting back towards his bed. Darry followed him a few minutes later. 

Unable to help himself, he ducked his head into the spare room where Johnny and Pony had fallen asleep. The two of them were curled towards each other like parentheses, Pony’s thumb still holding place in his book.

With a fond smile, he leaned over the bed and pulled the book from his brother’s hands. He slipped a bookmark in and set it to the side table. Both the boys were covered in a thick blanket. Darry adjusted it around their shoulders.

One of Johnny’s eyes squinted open, “What?”

Just like he would one of his brothers, Darry touched his head affectionately, “Just me, buddy. Go back to sleep.” His heart warmed at the trust Johnny displayed as he closed his eyes again and snuggled back down. That was why he needed the money, Johnny needed a safe place to stay.

Darry closed the bedroom door and then moved to check on Soda. His idiot brother was still awake, not even pretending to sleep. Darry leaned into the door frame, “Golly, you’d think you were six, not sixteen.”

Soda stuck his tongue out, only proving Darry’s point. “I’m goin’ to sleep. Wanted to make sure you didn’t try to pull an all-nighter.”

“Goodnight, Soda,” Darry said meaningfully. 

“Night.” Soda snuggled down into bed with a content look on his face. Darry smiled and finally headed back to his bedroom.