#little night mare six

[boxwearssocks]

[minbling]

Updated my Ponys :D

[buckysunshine]

i got my eye on you – house of the dragon

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+) ! Targcest/Targaryen Incest (Uncle/Niece), Enemies to Lovers, Denial of feelings, explosion of feelings, vaginal fingering.

Synopsis: Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you. 

At the return of the blacks, the princess is transformed, and the hate swirling in Aemond’s gut is replaced with something different, something new.

Word Count: 2.6K

Sixteen hours. That was how long Rhaenyra labored to bring you into this world. With blood came the heir's only daughter, a spitting image of her mother yet contrasted by the colors of the father. A princess. Another bastard. 

Six days. That's how long you stayed in the babe's cradle until the hatching of your dragon egg. Arrax.

Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. 

Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you.

~

Living in a den of vipers taught you more than the books you were forced to read. You were a princess, the daughter of the realm's heir, yet they treat you as the scum of a mare's back disguised in petty smiles and hidden whispers.

Early on, you learned you only had your family to depend on. Not your uncles. They always liked to inflict the most pain. Helaena was always sweet, but the queen made sure to isolate her from you and your family. 

But your greatest tormentor came in the form of purple eyes and silver hair. Aemond Targaryen.

He was always there to plague you no matter how nice you've been or how little you were. Eyes distant and cold, and on you at all times. You could never escape it; thus, it only made sense that you were the one to take his eye on that fateful night. You – the object of his ire, the thief who stole his eye. You tell yourself it was to protect your brother, but deep down, it was also to break free of his punishing stares. 

Aemond Targaryen was not the only person who changed from that moment. The day you took his eye was the day you gained your own courage.

"Enjoy it, uncle. The next time you see me, my mother will wear the crown, and your family will be set aside to return to your little green towers." You speak brazenly atop Arrax at the hour of your departure to Dragonstone. He may have Vhagar, but the true power belongs to the heir of the Iron Throne. 

Your last words to the one-eyed second son rang in his ears for the rest of his days, fueling the bitter craving for revenge in his heart. 

~

"You'll cut yourself." The rogue prince's warning makes you jump away from the valyrian steel. "Careful."

You've sneaked a glance at dark sister. The prince consort was rarely without it, so the one chance you see it abandoned, you gather up the courage to hold it even for a second. It felt like the blade was calling to you; surely, it was the voices of the lives taken by the age-old steel. 

Daemon takes the steel in his hand, wielding it easily. You watch his every move, utterly fascinated. Daemon sees the spark of ambition in your eyes. It's the same spark that flamed within him in his early years. 

"Ever used a blade?"

"Only one time when I took an eye."

Daemon grinned, passing the steel to you. He could work with that. "Not a bad start.”

Dark Sister felt heavy in your hands, but it was also oddly familiar. It felt right to hold it. You were a Targaryen, after all, and coupled with the strong genes of your father, it was no trouble to handle a sword. You were a quick learner, and Daemon took delight in training you, gender norms be damned. 

This would have never happened in the Red Keep. The only place for you there were the quilting room and the birthing bed. Ser Criston Cole would have never allowed you to step foot in his training grounds, and you would have never had the courage to try. 

Ever since you left for Dragonstone, your courage grew day by day, and with Daemon at your side, it flamed anew.

But all that courage faltered at the news of Vaemond Velaryon's challenge to Lucery's inheritance to Driftmark. 

Vaemond did not scare you, but the thought of returning to King's Landing and meeting a purple eye did.

-

Aemond Targaryen had never waited for a day like this. 

The blacks’ return shall be met with the green's first strike. His nephew is possibly disinherited; most importantly, he gets to prove you wrong. He waits to see you again so he could inject the fear that always made you shrink in his gaze. The years had made him hard, brutish. He and Vhagar are alike in more ways than the valyrian blood that flows in them.

Aemond's eye finds you immediately. Surrounded by your family, you seemed small but grown, more mature. Your dress is filled better by newly developed curves. Your locks remained ever dark, and it gives Aemond a reminiscence of a dark-haired woman plaguing his dreams as of late. Ever since he heard the news of your return, his dreams have been nothing but hazy images of dark hair that makes him wake with a hard cock. 

He ignores it.

Your families don't have time to reunite as the unforgiving court awaits. You don't make the effort to find your uncles either, though you did send a warm smile to your aunt. You ignore them, and it makes Aemond itch. He longs to see the fire in your eyes so he could squash and spit on it.

Vaemond Velaryon speaks, and he loses his head. 

Aemond is no stranger to bloodshed, relishes in it even. An unexpected similarity between you. 

It does not miss him when you don't flinch at the brutal slash, only moving to cover your younger brother, Joffrey. You watch the blade slash clean through flesh with a fervid gaze, and it gives Aemond surprise, his interest piqued.

~

"Seems like you're wrong, princess."

You were a hard one to track alone. Always surrounded by your pesky brothers, Aemond awaited the chance to corner you. He finds it fitting to find you in the dragon pit. You endured the tense family dinner, playing oblivious to the one purple eye peering over you, and once the feasting had ended, you were gone. Not in your chambers or even the grounds of the Red Keep. You escaped to the skies, flying Arrax till late at night. You needed the reprieve, and you wished you were back there again the moment you landed with Aemond already waiting for your alighting.

"Uncle." You greeted him, shedding your riding gloves off. He is taller now, more slender, and his face matured with the scar you left him with. Shame, he could have been handsome.

You walk, and Aemond is at your tail. He starts his taunting. 

"We meet, and yet no crown on your mother's head, and our family's roots are still deep within these courts."

"I am grateful for our king's long life." You say, eyes blank, straight ahead. You're being polite. Your mother's words of peace ring in your ears, and it takes all your effort to maintain niceties. Aemond sees right through it.

"There is only us. You can speak plainly." He clasps his arms behind his back, unbothered. "The king is dying and should have died long ago."

"Must you be so cruel?”

"I only speak the truth." He is close behind, leaning down to mutter in your ear. "Last time I recall, it is not a crime to do so. Well, should not be treated as such anyway." He says slyly, laying down his bait for you to take. 

"I was a kid, Aemond. Must you torment me all my life?" You bite, stopping in your tracks and facing him completely with fire in your eyes. The years of guilt and vexing rifts at your resolve. The man always knew how to push your buttons.

Ah, there she is. Aemond flashes a condescending smile just for a second before slipping back into his usual glare. "You know what I want. Justice."

"Then so be it." You pull out your sword, the same one Daemon gifted you years ago. It was smaller than the standard fighting swords, for it was only supposed to be used in training, but you don't care. A sword is a sword. You've done worse with smaller ones.

"Here's your justice. Try to take out my eye. I'll allow your efforts. Take my eye and be done with all these bother.”

Aemond stares at you delightfully surprised before drawing his own sword out. You dare? He answers. The years in Dragonstone changed you, no more the little girl he could torment and plague back in the Red Keep. He is made clear of it. The girl standing before him is a dragon, a warrior, a Targaryen. A predator to be conquered.

"Today is a good day for justice."

He swings, and steels meet.

It was a dance between two dragons, and the sound of swords clashing against each other played the music to every spin and sway. It was a dance, and Aemond hated how you were leading. 

Honed by the rogue prince, you've learned how to put up a good fight and sniff out an opponent's weak points. You detect Aemond's obvious weakness – his blind side. You focus your attacks on his left side, taking advantage of his every crux. He underestimated you, your hits stronger than he expected. He stumbles at your strike, aim focused on his left shoulder. 

But Aemond is no fool on the battlefield. He also paid his dues in his training with Ser Criston Cole. The man might be vile, but there is no denying the knight is the most skillful swordsman alive in King's Landing. Aemond's skills are beaten into him in the most literal sense, the years of cuts and bruises shaping him into the warrior he is now. It was no match to your little lessons, no matter how fast of a learner you might be. Aemond is still stronger, faster. 

And with a swing to your leg and a precise hit to your wrist, your blade flies away from you. Unarmed, the older boy takes the chance to seize you. 

You take the hit head on, grunting at the weight of him knocking you down.

Pinned on the ground, bladeless and pregnable, Aemond's steel rests snug against your neck. The music has stopped. You've lost. 

"Beg." Steel presses further into skin. "Beg for mercy."

"No." you spat, ever so stubbornly. A dragon does not beg.

Aemond's nostrils flare at your defiance, a thousand emotions brewing in his chest. He has wanted this for so long, yet he finds himself stalling for time.

Despite your loss, you weren't giving up. Aemond always hated how stubborn you could be, so careless, yet protected and loved even as a bastard. Aemond could do everything right, yet his father would not even spare him a glance unless he found himself in some sort of trouble, and Alicent shared the family's burden with him, depriving him of the innocence of childhood. But you had your dragon the day you were born, showered with love and affection. 

Spoiled. Ungrateful. 

In his resentment, he cuts skin, drawing blood. "Don't think I won't do it. You know I would."

You refuse to wince from the pain, eyes locked in and determined. "I fought, and I lost. I'm true to my word. Take my eye now. Take your prize." You turn your head, presenting him the left side of your face. "Is that not what you want, uncle? Or do you plan to bitch and whine to me for the rest of your days?"

"I want… nothing!"

Throwing his blade away, you're finally given a chance to breathe. Still on top, he looks down on you. Aemond has you at the bottom of his feet, to do what he wants, to take what he is robbed of, yet he finds himself at pause. He wanted an eye, and now he yearns for more.

As he watched your face, cheeks turning delightfully pink, and chest heaving, the strangest thing happened. Aemond felt something squeeze suspiciously in his chest at the thought of you exposed and vulnerable to him.

He realized he wanted you. He really, really wanted you.

Only then did the feeling of hatred in his gut turn to something different. It swirled anew — to desire.

Aemond Targaryen desires for the niece under him.

Oh.

With this revelation, he starts seeing the image in his dreams clearly. His conscience is plagued by the woman of dark hair and milky skin he's been dreaming of, the cause of his seed spilling on his thighs in the morning. It was you.

With the veil of denial finally lifted, he leans down and captures your mouth, pouring every bit of frustration and newly found desire into your kiss. Your hands raise to push him off, but he pins them down easily. Warm lips lock onto yours, forcing your mouth to yield to his demand and, eventually, your own visceral need. Unrelenting, your defiance quickly faded, and your tongue started meeting his as well. Heat dances in your chest and straight down the apex of your thighs. 

You've been kissed before, kissed sweetly, softly, but never like this. This was different; this was hungry, consuming, punishing. Aemond's kiss triggers a primal craving in your flesh; it refuses your mind's reason entirely.

Shifting above you, Aemond parts your legs, planting himself between your thighs. You feel the hard ridge of him pressing against your clothed core, and you undoubtedly grind against it. 

His body – Gods. It is evil how it was pressed against yours, the heat of it seeping through your clothing, searing your very soul.

He made you shiver. He made you melt.

Aemond gropes your breast, dipping down to nip at the neck he just pressed a blade against moments ago. "I want you."

Aemond always told the truth, an ideology planted in his head by his devoted mother, but it is only now he felt the peace a person should feel when telling the truth.

Aemond’s tongue traces a map of pleasure on your skin, fueling a need you never knew. He chants your name, groaning at every repeat. His lips move frantically along your face until they find your mouth again. “I need you.” He pressed his hips hotly against yours. “Do you feel how I need you?” 

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair, making it undone from its restraints; you grip it, urging for more.

"What is it? Take what you want." He yearns to hear your voice, hear you beg for him.

He pulls away, and you whine at the loss. "Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want.”

You're faced with Aemond's face atop of yours, and unthinking, you take it in your hands. He leans in, hanging on to your next words. 

Your lips hover over each other, and with a whisper, you say, "No."

Aemond's face breaks into a grin, a deep chuckle escaping him. Your heart stutters at the image of a genuine smile on the prince's face. It was a rare thing, and you don't know what to do with it.

Distracted, his fingers find your thighs, squeezing them hard before delving further. You gasp when he presses at the burning between your legs. 

"Now is not the time for your stubbornness, sweet niece."

Aemond quickly breaks through the layers of cloth separating him from your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing how easily he found the wetness waiting for him. But Aemond relishes at the feel of them, the thought of your excitement feeding his desire. His fingers play at your folds, sliding easily. He circles at your center, noticing how your moans become louder when he touches you there. He watches your every expression, determined to pluck your pleasure from you. You looked too pretty with your lips red and puffy, but your unscarred skin calls to be dirtied by him.

He leans down to nip at the skin of your jaw, then to your neck once more. He hopes to leave a mark. "Would you do it? Bed your uncle like your mother did.”

The sting of his tongue against the wound he placed on you wakes you from your haze. Your mother. The lust is quickly replaced by guilt and shame, and you suddenly feel suffocated. Shoving away, you slap him off you. He stumbles, shocked and disoriented. 

Gathering your skirts, you stand, now looking down at him. Your throat dries, but you speak firmly. "You've had your chance to take your justice. Now let us speak of it no more.”

And you were gone, fleeing without as much as a second glance behind, and Aemond is left alone. The sting on his face and the hardness of his cock are the only reminders of your dance.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Eight

Steve slices the apple into four parts, and then retrieves the clock from the hallway; this one will be best, there’s no glass or anything, so he can just force the hands around with his fingers. Eddie sits on a stool at the breakfast bar, watching Steve and waiting patiently.

“Okay buddy, what time does it say?”

“Four,” Eddie says confidently. Nice and easy that one, because Steve has the little hand on the four and Eddie has grasped to look at the little hand first pretty fast.

“Okay so,” Steve puts down the clock, and holds the pieces of apple together to make it whole. “This is a full apple, yeah? One. It’s whole.”

“Whole apple.”

“Right, so now, how many?”

Steve pulls the pieces apart so he has two slices held together in each hand, “two.”

“That’s right, but It’s also half.”

“Half.”

“Yeah, whole apple. One apple. Two slices. Half an apple.”

“Half an apple.”

“Right, so,” Steve puts the apple slices down, letting them split, and moves the big hand down to six, “half four.”

Eddie moves the apple pieces around, frowning, “half four. Two,” he points.

“Yeah, with counting. On the clock. Time. This is half past four.”

Eddie frowns at the clock again. He shakes his head.

“Okay, so,” Steve spreads out the apple slices, “four. Four quarters,” then he moves the big hand around the clock face again, “quarter past four, half past four, quarter to five.”

Eddie frowns again, face scrunching a little bit, and Steve can sense the distress from Eddie, upset that he doesn’t understand.

“Half, two,” he volunteers.

Steve sighs, “yeah buddy, but-”

“No! Half two!” And then Eddie picks up two apple quarters and shoves them in his mouth, presumably to make the problem go away, crumbs of apple and juice dripping messily onto his chin as Eddie chews manically with his pointy teeth.

The kitchen dims a little, thick clouds scudding over the sun. Steve looks out of the window, it’s suddenly dark.

Red lightning flashes.

Eddie moves, leaning over the counter to slide a knife from the block, “half. Two.” He says, pressing the tip of the knife to his tail; black, thick blood wells up and starts to drip, and Steve stands frozen.

Eddie's eyes catch the light strangely, flashing silver, then they glow red as lightning crashes, “it’s for the best, Steve-”

Steve wakes with his heart pounding and a scream trapped in his throat; he feels like he can’t breathe, all of his body shaking and not obeying him, the sheets and blankets tangled around his legs. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he pants to himself, finally getting out of bed.

The light in the bathroom makes him feel better and he splashes his face and then drinks a little water right from the faucet. He sighs deep, just a dream.

Just a dream.

It takes ten minutes before Steve feels better but...even though it doesn’t make any sense at all, he needs to check. He just has to see Eddie, just for a second, to make sure he’s okay. Then he’ll come back to bed and everything will be fine.

Even though it’s completely fucking irrational, and Steve knows it is, he checks the knife block first; everything is set in it’s little slot, nothings missing...which, of course it isn’t. Of course it’s fine. He’s just being ridiculous.

The kitchen looks completely normal, even if it does feel a little sinister in the dark. Steve tells himself again that it’s just a dream.

The lounge is only illuminated by the moonlight from outside, but it’s enough to make out the curled up lump that is Eddie, sleeping on the couch.

Steve breathes a sigh of relief, even as he tells himself he’s being ridiculous.

“Stee?” It must have been enough to wake him, and Steve watches as Eddie’s head, somehow, pops out from amongst the tangled ball of tail and today's blue sweater. Steve’s let him have four and washes them on rotation. They don’t come completely clean – the grass stains are impossible, and the bottom edges are already ruinously frayed, but it’s fine, they’re only sweaters.

“Sorry, Buddy I...I had a nightmare.”

“Night...mare..?”

“Yeah a uhm,” Eddie shifts, and Steve sits next to him on the couch, “a bad dream, you know when you’re asleep?”

Eddie nods, “sleep, dark,” he points to the outside.

“Yeah, right so...do you ever see things, when you're asleep?” Eddie cocks his head, “like, uhm, TV. Like watching TV,” and Steve taps the side of his head.

Eddie takes Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand away, nodding furiously, “dark TV,” he uses Steve’s hand to tap the side of his own head, “many. Many all.”

“You dream? Every night?” Eddie nods. “What do you...what do you dream about?”

Eddie frowns, so Steve gets up, retrieving colored pencils and a larger notebook, he flicks on a lamp. Steve sits back next to Eddie, and using his woefully inadequate drawing skills, he makes out a couple of withered, spiky trees, shades the sky dark, draws swirls of black on the floor and a crackle of red lightning across the sky, “do you dream of this?”

Eddie’s mouth pops open, eyes wide with terror, he taps the paper urgently, “Stee? Stee in?? Many??”

“Yeah… Stee in, but not many.”

“Stee no! Stee not safe!” Eddie taps the paper, “Stee no! Bad bad!” Eddie's clearly horrified by the thought of Steve in The Upside Down.

“I won’t buddy okay, no more,” Steve taps the page, “finished.”

That seems to placate Eddie, he sits back, staring still at what Steve’s drawn, “dark TV,” he says quietly.

Steve gets his pencil and draws a stick figure with curly hair and a long pointed tail, he draws a little arrow and writes, ‘Eddie’, next to it, “Eddidie?”

“Yeah,” Steve tells him, “we call this place The Upside Down. That’s where you come from, The Upside Down.”

“The upside Down. Stee come from?”

“Hawkins Indiana.”

“Hawkins Indiana.”

“Yeah Buddy, that's where we are now. That’s what this place is called. Listen,” Steve draws another stick figure with a tail near to Eddie on the paper, “are there more like you there?” Steve taps his little drawing. Then he draws another stick figure mermaid, just for good measure.

“Yes.”

“Many?”

“Many many.”

“Do you...miss them?”

Eddie tilts his head.

“Okay Buddy, you and me, we’re friends,” Eddie nods, “and the kids. Birdie. Jon, Nancy. They’re our friends.” Steve taps the page again, “friend?”

Eddie shakes his head, “no,” he purses his lips, looks around, thinking, “Stee...pear, celery, grape?”

“Yeah, I know, food. That’s food.”

“Food...no many food in Upside Down.” Eddie taps the page, then hisses, clawing and biting the air a little.

“Fight. You had to fight them for food?”

“Fight. Yes,” Eddie takes the pencil and aggressively scribbles out the other two stick figure mermaids, Steve can’t help but chuckle.

“Well, you don’t have to fight anyone here buddy. No fight. All the pears are Eddie’s.”

Steve wakes up to something tickling his nose and something else digging viciously into his ribs. He feels a little attacked considering it’s first thing in the morning. He blinks awake, shifting, and his back screams at him.

Well fuck. The couch might look fancy, and it might be alright for sitting on, but it’s shit for sleeping on.

Especially when you’ve got a bony as fuck fish guy sleeping on you, “hi Eddie.”

“Hi Stee,” Eddie replies into the front of Steve’s shirt.

“Any more bad dreams?”

“No. No bad dreams. Stee good,” and Eddie pats Steve’s chest, “Stee dream?”

“No buddy, I’m all good too. But...if you do have bad dreams, you should come find me, okay? If you want to.”

“Stee find Eddidie?”

Which, yeah, Steve guesses, that is what happened last night, “yeah Buddy, like that.”

Eddie shifts again, and Steve realizes that it’s Eddie’s bony fucking elbows that might be trying to stab him in the guts, “we should get up,” and Eddie does, sitting up with no regard for the fact that means he’s sitting right on Steve’s lap – and his morning wood.

Eddie wriggles.

“Right, nope,” Steve sits, spreading his legs so that Eddie falls through and gets dumped onto the couch cushion, letting Steve slide away and stand up, “I’m going to go shower.”

“And Eddidie?”

“Yup, but you can go after me,” Steve is telling him, as Eddie follows him up the stairs.

That night, Steve isn’t even really asleep yet when he hears the quiet noise of Eddie making his way up the stairs. The soft susurration of Eddie moving across the carpet, and then the door being pushed the rest of the way open.

Steve lifts the covers, inviting Eddie in, “but take that off, it’s got dirty today,” Eddie does, pulling off the jersey and climbing in, lying face to face with Steve.

“Hi Stee,” Eddie whispers.

Steve smiles, “hi buddy,” he whisper back, “bad dream?”

Eddie nods.

“What about? Tell me?”

“Tell...dream?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie thinks, biting his lip a little, probably trying to work out how to explain it. Eventually he volunteers, “in Upside Down.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, because he figured as much.

Slowly, Eddie brings both hands up. He puts his palms on his cheeks, then covers his face with interlocked fingers. Steve has a mounting sense of horror; already certain he knows where this is going.

Slowly, Eddie lifts them, unlacing his fingers, like the spread of petals on his face.

“Demogorgon,” Steve whispers.

“Eddidie is food.”

Steve can’t really express the sheer amount of horror the thought fills him with, so he just pulls Eddie into a hug instead, “you’re safe now buddy. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Steve actually manages to fall asleep alright with Eddie’s tail wrapped around his legs, and if he dreams, he doesn’t remember it, coming awake to the now familiar sound of a chair being dragged across the kitchen floor.

Steve heads downstairs to see what Eddie’s up to; he’s at the bottom step when the smell of coffee hits him, and he vaguely wonders if Robin or someone is here.

No. Just Eddie. He’s seen Steve work the coffee machine enough times to work it out for himself, obviously, and there’s a full cup waiting ready on the counter. On the table there’s a plate with a piece of dry toast on it, but there’s a jar of jelly from the fridge. A half full bowl of cereal (no milk) and a single pear.

“Eddie...did you make me breakfast?”

Eddie grins at him, and Steve just about rescues the mug of coffee from him before Eddie tries to make it across the kitchen one handed.

“Buddy this is...so good. Thank you so much.”

Part Ten

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Insufficient Pt. 3 | Azriel/Eris x Reader

Summary: Your journey to Autumn Court doesn’t go exactly as planned, but you do pick up some entertaining company along the way, who also happens to be useful in getting you where you need to go.

Word Count: ~ 3.5k

Warnings: horse getting a bit scratched up, big scary monsters, rock juggling, allusions to abuse, platonic!lucien & reader, sassy luci, knife, blood

A/N: y’all I’m so sorry this is so late…school just started and I’ve also just started writing for cod too since I’ve been obsessing over it, so here’s some food for you guys, eat up<3

Requests are open!

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As it turned out, traveling was a lot more difficult than you had originally thought.

It wasn’t just getting on a horse and riding until night, starting a fire, and all that. Sure, you’d been around for a decent amount of time for a Fae, nothing close to centuries, but you still didn’t have much knowledge on things like that.

Most of your life had simply been with your family in the family home, spent in a warm house with plenty of food and water to spare. Not many hardships, nothing.

The first night you’d gone out had been rough.

Riding a horse for nearly six hours straight had made your thighs ache more than ever before, feeling as if someone had just beaten them with a rolling pin. Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t been able to get a decent fire going, so you’d eaten some cold dried meat in your pack, and curled up in a small den that was deserted by whatever animal had made it.

You were only on your second night when things already began going wrong. The woods were thick from where you were skirting the borders, tangy magic thick in the air from the protections most High Lords kept over their courts after Amarantha’s reign of terror. Your horse was tiring, sweat coating her mane, and your beads of sweat gathered on your forehead despite the chill of the night.

You slowly pulled the reigns back, slowing her to a stop when you got to a small clearing, before throwing a leg over and slipping off. Your knees nearly buckled when your feet hit the ground, sparks of pain flitting through them before fading slowly. The horse huffed, following as you led her by the reigns over to a little wall of stone in a mountain, a little roof provided by an overlook above. It looked relatively untouched.

Unbuckling the clasps and setting the mare free, though she never wandered far, somehow knowing better, you put the bridle down close to you.

Too tired to eat, you scooted backward, sitting slowly down as you resisted a groan with how your legs ached. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body and movements were sluggish. Before you could even get a single coherent thought through your brain, you slipped into a deep sleep.

What must’ve been hours later, or at least felt like it, you drowsily opened your eyes when you heard the nervous nicker of your horse. Dark, splotchy figures stood nearly twenty feet away, concealed barely by trees. Maybe three of them.

They whispered and muttered quietly amongst themselves, sometimes in a language you couldn’t understand, other little English words snagging your mind. Inhuman eyes, two of them each, shifted your direction, and your eyes shut immediately.

Playing dead.

They must’ve bought it since they went back to their hushed whispers. Your mind, now fully alert and panicking, tried making sense of it. Maybe they were other travelers, like you? But outside of any court? They had looked at least 8 feet tall, thin, and cloaked in black that only served to remind you of the very male you were running from.

You heard your mare nicker again before a hoarse cry came out of it, and a scuffling sound. Your eyes opened almost involuntarily, being given a front-row view of the creatures, whatever they were, and their bony hands as they reached towards the poor animal, trying to drag it towards them as their shadowy maws opened. Whispers turned more excited.

Your body was frozen between shock and terror as you watched one of them grab the horse’s front legs, then back legs, both in different hands and begin pulling.

The horse cried out.

The hands pulled.

A disgusting ripping sound, but not from the horse.

From your dagger, embedded in one of the thing’s shadowy hands that were somehow physical, ripping the skin and flesh.

It hissed, dropping the horse, but the wound you’d made on it closed immediately as it flicked your dagger away.

You were at the horse’s side in less than a second, for some reason in a defensive position, lip curling to bare canines at the things. As you looked at the largest one dead in its cold eyes, a realization dawned on you.

Skinwalkers.

These things were skinwalkers.

It should’ve been obvious to you from the start. The dark but physical body, the dead, shining eyes, the giant frame, and clawed hands. It was then that you had another realization.

Skinwalkers didn’t eat horses. In fact, according to an old mythology book your grandmother had owned, they only ate humans. Then why-?

“A fine catch we’ve gotten ourselves..”

It said, tone between a hiss and a purr at the same time, mingling in a sound that made every cell in your body want to run and never look back. If a direct stab hadn’t done anything to kill or even harm it, then what would it take to kill one, if not the three to four that were in the group?

“Not very clever,”

One hissed in a hushed tone, and another peered down at you, dead eyes hungry.

“I told you it would work. They’re always so attached to those little animals..”

Another whispered, poking the horse, now cowering against the stone, looking for an opening to run although there was none. It pawed at the ground, stomping and huffing as if it would help.

A trap. It had been a trap, and you’d been stupid enough to fall for it. Of course.

“Get on with it, I'm starving.”

The last of the group hissed, jabbing the largest one with a pointed finger. The largest one bared its perfectly midnight black teeth and stalked closer to you. Backing up, you spotted a flash of movement to the very left, behind the group of skinwalkers.

Too fast to be a human or animal. Too slow to be another skinwalker. Which meant either it was Fae, or another creature waiting its turn to eat you, and you were praying for the former.

Between a few trees, a small face came into view, along with golden orange hair, a scarred face, a mechanical eye, and dark clothing. You tried not to stare, so the creatures wouldn’t notice him.

“It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to smell their fear, let me have a moment-“

The biggest spat, and they then began bickering in their unearthly tones, creating a temporary way of distraction. The male in the trees jerked his head towards your right, and you gave a confused face, turning to your right. All it was was a pile of big rocks. He sighed silently, mouthing something to you.

You couldn’t lip-read for the life of you.

After asking “What?” silently three times in a row, you finally understood what he was saying.

“Distract them.” He mouthed, clearly agitated as he frowned, giving you a judgmental look. Sassy for a male, this one was.

The creatures seemed quite distracted amongst themselves at the moment, but you knew once that ended, everything would be over for you. You needed a distraction, and their hushed whispers were getting less frenzied, quieter, and slower. They agreed on something.

Your mind rushed to find something, anything and thought back to the pile of rocks the male had originally jerked his chin to.

You slowly moved towards it, eventually reaching it, before the creatures came to a final consensus.

“No, no, you don’t get to escape.” One hissed through its teeth as it grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you back in front of the largest one, but instead of slaughtering you, they were left dumbfounded when you began throwing rocks up in the air, catching them, and throwing them again.

Juggling. You were juggling the rocks.

“What is it doing?”

The smallest asked the largest in a slightly concerned whisper, or as concerned as a skinwalker could be, and the giant shadowy figure only silently watched.

“Is it diseased?”

A second asked in a hushed whisper, poking at you with a finger, only for you to yelp and hop away on one foot, unable to regain your balance while continuing to juggle the rocks, meaning you were now constantly hopping on one foot.

Juggling was a trick you’d originally learned to impress some of your younger cousins and nephews and whatnot, and mostly forgotten, but it had somehow kicked back into you at the last moment.

Eventually, though, they continued poking at you, and you dropped a rock on one’s finger, before deciding to fully commit and hurling the two remaining ones at the shadowy beasts while falling flat on your ass.

They hissed, swatting them away, but only getting halfway through the motion before a giant blaze of flame consumed them, trapping them in a burst of golden light, and then they were just…gone.

Not even a pile of ashes, no bones, no remains, nothing.

However, the male from earlier was there, walking through the now-black grass, offering you a hand while giving you an odd look. You took it, and he sighed, offering his name. It sounded mildly familiar, probably because you’d heard snippets of the bond between him and Elain before, but it was a topic most people avoided in Night Court. His hair meant he was Autumn Court, no doubt.

“Lucien.”

He said simply, and you swallowed, immediately going to your horse’s side and checking her.

“Y/N.”

You replied, hands smoothing over your horse’s coat, trying to soothe the spooked animal as it nervously nickered and scraped its hooves against the ground, bringing up dirt.

“That was certainly one way of…distracting them.”

He said in a tone that barely held back that he thought you were insane, but also mildly entertaining.

“You looked at the rocks, didn’t you?”

You said, giving him a scowl, and he paused a moment, raising a brow, before shaking his head.

“I meant for you to go pull some out to unwedge the boulder up there to flatten them.”

He said, sass evident in his dry tone. You paused, glancing up at where you’d been trapped, and sure enough, there was a giant boulder above some of the rocks you’d used to juggle. Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you swallowed, eyes shifting back to your horse.

“Oh.”

He snorted at the reply, rather undignified for a pretty boy such as himself, shaking his head, before walking over to your horse as well and assisting in checking her.

“Only a few little nicks, nothing terrible.”

He said, and you gave him a look.

“A few nicks is terrible. Imagine if you were a horse and you had a few nicks.”

You replied, scowling once again at him, getting quite protective over the horse that technically wasn’t even yours. You’d only just stolen her a few days ago.

He gave you a flat gaze, before blinking.

“I do have a few nicks.”

A few seconds passed in silence, before he pursed his lips, sighed through his nostrils, and tapped the scar on his face with one finger.

“Ohh….. That is not what I meant.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Shut up.”

“I just saved your life and this is how you’re thanking me?”

“I’m starting to wish you hadn’t.”

An exasperated sigh from him again, as those seemed to be his favorite form of expression.

“Why are you even out here?”

“Why are you out here?”

He gave you an annoyed look, something akin to almost a pout on his lips.

“I’m an emissary. It’s my job to travel between courts.”

You raised a brow, hand running over your horse’s dark coat.

“Why by foot when you can easily winnow? Going by foot outside of the court’s boundaries at that.”

More annoyance crossed his features before his hand went to rub the bridge of his nose.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you.”

“Just answer this, where are you going?”

You took a moment of pause, trying to consider whether Lucien was a man to be trusted, looking him up and down. When he raised a brow, you considered it a sure.

“Autumn Court.”

A well-covered-up sour look crossed his face.

“Why there, of all places?”

“I have people there I want to see, and other people I don’t want seeing me. So I’m going to Autumn Court. Using this way.”

He looked at you like you were stupid. You were not stupid.

“And you’re still taking this way?”

“Yes.”

“After almost being devoured by skinwalkers?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, hand going to run through his russet locks as he looked to be thinking.

“I could take you there, I suppose. We’ll still have to travel by foot, seeing as I used all my magic saving you.”

A slightly dirty look in your direction for him having to have used all of his magic just to save your sorry ass. You only gave a little frown, and a reluctant sigh as if you’d accept the offer. And you would. It wasn’t like you had any other choice, but if he was going to be all snarky about it, you would match it.

“Guess we’ve got a new travel buddy.”

You muttered to your horse, patting it on the head.

~

Your new travel buddy was surprisingly useful, as it turns out. He’d taught you how to forage, what was poisonous and what wasn’t, and what mushrooms you could eat if cooking them well enough (you brought home deadly mushrooms 90% of the time but you looked so happy when he said “good job” that he pretended they were normal and exchanged them for edible ones when you weren’t looking).

You were not meant for hunting, your arm was too unsteady to hold a bow well, fingers kept slipping off the string, the arrow wouldn’t stay straight…it was a mess. Your knife usage wasn’t much better, but you at least got one rabbit over nearly four days.

He hadn’t shared much with you other than his name, but you’d gathered that he was a Vanserra, Emissary for Night Court, and he was always talking about some band of friends named Vassa and Jurian. When you asked, he wouldn’t elaborate. Something about a Band of Outcasts.

He helped make the fire with his magic, and passed out at night, going into a deep sleep to recover what he’d spent of his energy that day, leaving you with the first watch.

Not many incidents occurred after the skinwalker one, but more than once you’d heard twigs snapping when they shouldn’t be, or bushes and leaves rustling. That was usually when you started adding more logs and thatch to the fire, and the noises quickly stopped after that.

You shared the food and drink with him, and he gratefully took it, most of the time both of you eating and discussing childhood meals you’d had to pass the time.

“My mother used to make the spiciest chili I’ve ever had, I couldn’t get it down without crying.”

“Seriously? Isn’t she like, a High Lady, though?”

“She might be a High Lady, but she’s a mean cook, and has a concerning tolerance for spice.”

“Damn. My grandparents make dishes all the time. Potato or tomato soups…lots of soups, but sometimes they’ll make this delicious curry, too.”

“Is the potato soup not bland?”

“No, they like…sauté onions and add salts and peppers, all that. It’s delicious.”

“Maybe I’ll get potato soup someday, just to try it.”

You had given a crooked grin at that, one he couldn’t help but smile at. You reminded him a lot of his younger brothers when they’d still been mere teenagers, except you were older, but still seemingly just as carefree and young at heart.

Your horse was carefree as well, mainly in the manner she didn’t care about anything you told her to do.

“Just lift your foot, it’s not that hard.”

You seethed, trying to pull her hoof up to pick whatever dirt and rocks had gotten into it out, so she didn’t get any sort of infection or injuries from it. However, she huffed and refused to do so much as to bend her knees. Stubborn thing.

Lucien strolled over, dropping a pile of gathered wood before observing the scene before him. He took the sharpened stick you were trying to use as a hoof-pick right out of your hands, and with the most feline ease you'd ever seen before, easily got the mare to lift her hoof, and he cleaned it out.

You stared, blinking, internally furious. He smirked lazily as he glanced over at you. The horse huffed again, this time more relaxed, and he looked a bit more curious then.

“What’s her name?”

Your mind blanked on that, you standing there silently like an idiot, before replying.

“I never really named her, considering I’m immortal and she’s going to die someday. Thought it would be better not to get attached.”

A lie. Not a full lie, but you’d really just forgotten to name her, and accidentally gotten attached along the way. Lucien raised a brow.

“You seemed awful attached when you attacked an eight-foot-tall-“

“Hush.”

He rolled his eyes, but obeyed, moving on to another hoof to clean.

“You should name her. Might make her listen to you better?”

He suggested, and you sighed.

“I don’t even know what to name her. I’m not great with naming things. One of the many reasons I’m never having kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile at that, but quickly faded into a more thoughtful, deep expression, as if thinking hard about something.

A silence passed over you both as he worked, and you idly watched, toying with your hair, not sure and also not very willing to do anything else. He eventually spoke up when he finished cleaning out her hooves, looking the horse over. Her little nicks had been patched up by you and him days ago.

“Jesmind.”

“What?”

“Name her Jesmind.”

“Okay…any particular reason why?”

He shook his head at that, as if not going to talk about it any further.

“She just…reminds me of someone, is all.”

You raised a brow but didn’t push. Not when he went to go walk out into the woods, and you walked over to your dark mare, brushing your hand over her muzzle and looking into her defiant eyes.

“Jesmind, huh?”

You mused, testing how the name sounded on your tongue.

“Blink twice if you think it should be your name.”

The horse just watched, blinking once slowly, and when you made a flicking motion with your fingers, it blinked again, looking annoyed.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Confirmed by the horse herself.”

You said, grinning to nobody in particular as you began walking away, trying to find Lucien, only to almost fall face first off of a cliff edge. One hand grabbed the back of the jacket you were now wearing, pulling you back up.

“We’re here.”

He spoke grimly. This place, Autumn Court, didn’t hold fond memories for him. You could tell. And from what you’d seen and heard of his family and court…you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d done awful things to him. There was a reason he’d run from here so many years ago, after all.

“How am I going to get down there?”

You asked, looking down the large cliff. It was too steep for Jesmind to go down, even trying to go on the sides of it wouldn’t work.

“I’ll winnow you both,”

He said all too casually. You blinked slowly, turning to him.

“I thought you couldn’t winnow, that you needed to regenerate your magic.”

He gave you an amused smile.

“I had more than enough magic to winnow you and your mare the first time we met.”

Your fury slowly began to rise as you gaped at this male in front of you.

“Then why-“

“I was bored, and you seemed like entertaining company.”

Before you could even muster a reply, he gave you a pat on the back, walking back to camp and returning with your horse in one hand and your things in another. He handed you your bag, which you slung around your shoulder, and you took the reigns of Jesmind.

“Will I see you again?”

You asked, and he gave a lazy, but genuine smile this time.

“I’ll never stop annoying you, don’t worry.”

You huffed a bit of laughter.

“That’s a relief.”

His hand went to your shoulder again, and the tangy iron scent of magic hit you once again like it had in the very beginning days of the journey.

“A word of warning,”

He then said, voice now serious.

“Stay out of trouble, and stay away from my brothers. The High Fae of Autumn are not people you want to get caught up with.”

You gave a nod, and in a flash of golden light and fire like a rising sun, you were then in the bustling streets of a city, no Lucien in sight, looking more than a little ghetto.

A horse in one hand, bag hanging from the other, wearing clothes that were best described as hunting clothes rather than the proper clothing most wore, you began walking, the sun so bright and heavy that you could barely see.

Jesmind nickered, pulling to the side of the street.

Just quick enough for you to walk straight into the chest of none other than Eris Vanserra.

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[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy XIII

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) warnings: dark adult themes, violence, sex, drugs, yandere shit. plz don't read if u can't handle it ->chapter map

XIII.

-You thought you’d done a good job talking yourself up to it, but you are so embarrassed, when you get up on the model stand, and it's time to start class…and you simply can't do it. You freeze, absolutely unable to bring yourself to take off your robe, to expose yourself again after your near brush with…whatever the fuck those creeps intended to do with you. 

“I…”

You don't even know where to begin to explain. You wait for John to say something cutting or sarcastic. To be a jerk about it, annoyed that you're stalling his class.

You watch warily as he approaches the model stand, hands in his pockets, the very picture of the brooding artist. Yet when he looks up at you…there’s an empathy in his dark eyes that squeezes your heart with a fist. He could have pushed you over with a feather when he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?”

Sadly, you shake your head, hugging yourself. “I’m…not sure I can do this right now. I'm so sorry.” You sway on your feet, and he must sense something wild inside you, a mare threatening to bolt, or a statue ready to tumble, because he holds up his hands as though to steady you–those large, eloquent hands with their impossibly long fingers.

You don’t know what possesses you, when you take his fingers in yours, holding on to him like he is a life line. They’re strong, and calloused, and for the first time since waking up after your mishap you feel somewhat anchored to the world around you. 

He lets you hold on to him, his expression softening for you the way it used to, before you had your heated little tiff over Matt’s work. His voice is low, and calming, acting like a balm for your troubled soul. 

“That's ok, y/n. It's your choice. Do you maybe think you could sit for us with your robe on?”

You think about it a few moments before nodding. 

“Alright.” He squeezes your fingers encouragingly. “Let's do some warm ups, then we'll pick a pose.”

You nod, and somehow, this small gesture of support empowers you again to do your thing. 

- You're not sure how he knew you needed it, but in the end you decide on a reclining pose. John produces blankets and pillows from the closet to make you a comfortable nest on the otherwise hard model stand, and you hate to admit it, but…you fall asleep. 

You haven't been sleeping well, and something about being here in this place you love, rather than your cold and lonely apartment fulfills something you've been missing the past few weeks. 

By some miracle, as though even your sleeping brain knows, you do not move from your position even in slumber. It takes a gentle hand upon your ankle to rouse you,  and you wake with a start to find John standing over you. 

The room is empty of students; through the windows you can see that night has fallen outside. Fuck.

“I'm so sorry,” you immediately apologize, bolting up right. The class ends at six. How much longer did you keep him here?

“It’s ok,” he says in his soothing baritone. “Are you…ok, y/n?”

You look at him looking at you so earnestly with those infinite dark eyes–it ties you up in knots, and you feel like you can't hide a thing from him. Like…he already knows, and just wants to give you an outlet to talk about it, if you want. 

“Something …bad happened at the Monster Masque,” you admit in a whisper, looking fixedly at the corner of your blanket beneath you. “I've just…felt weird, ever since.” 

His frown is like a thunderhead, forbidding and beautiful. “Do you need help, y/n?”

You shake your head. “No. I think…the matter is closed.”

“Oh?”

“I think…someone took care of it for me.”

“Who?”

“I…don't know. Maybe someone I met at the ball. I think…” You look to him, drowning, and you can't help but compare his stare to the black satin shine of your Lone Wolf’s eyes. Dear lord, do you have a type. “I think he saved me.” 

John lifts a single dark brow to this. “Sounds like you have a guardian angel, y/n.” 

A shaky little laugh escapes you. “Yeah.” You think that guardian demon might be more likely, but you don’t say it aloud. 

When you dismount from the modeling stand the concrete floor is shockingly hard and cold beneath your feet; your leg tingles with pins and needles, having fallen asleep. You take a step and would have stumbled–-but John catches you, holding you in his strong arms. 

You swear you didn’t do it on purpose, but you find it’s a very nice place to be. There is something hauntingly familiar about being held like this, tucked against his chest with his arms around you. You look up at him from so very close, and you realize something is different. 

“You cut off your beard,” you say, maybe with way more wonder in your voice than the observation actually warrants, but there's something about being able to see the sharp lines of his jaw that moves you to your toes. 

“I trimmed a little.” He doesn't scold you for staring at him like a star struck idiot. He seems…content, to stand like this with you, while you are reeling in this bottomless freefall into deja-vu.

He has a distractingly beautiful mouth, lips full and infuriatingly kissable. You cannot tear your eyes from the lower half of his face; the sum total of its lines strum some forgotten chord inside you.

Is it possible?

Your memory is so fractured from that night. Nothing is clear amidst the bits and pieces that remain to you. The gaps are large as a canyon in your mind, yawning fissures in the landscape of your memory. Whatever those boys drugged you with…it really fucked you up, and just thinking about it makes you want to hide under John Wick’s chin and not come out for a week. 

You decide that you are wishfully projecting your hopes onto this man. That he had much better things to be doing on Halloween, than masquerading around in an animal costume just to flirt with you. 

“Have you been eating, y/n?” he asks, squeezing your sides gently. You suppose he remembers how much padding you had from the last time you were in his hands. The memory of that lightning-charged squabble compared to how he handles you now makes you weak all over again. 

You shrug, embarrassed for some reason. “Not…well.” 

He nods, because he already knew the answer. “Come home for dinner with me.”

“I…would hate to bother you.” Deep down you want to say yes, and yet you cannot shake the dogged mantle of your hesitance. 

“No bother. I think it would be good for you.” 

He's being polite, yet there is a firm insistence in his tone that leaves no further room for argument.

“Okay.” You manage to keep the tremor out of your voice as you agree, and you decide to give yourself a point for bravery. Your score’s been running in the negatives lately, and maybe this will be good for you.

Or maybe you'll ruin it, the way you ruin everything, eventually.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[darkpuppysuit]

CHAPTER 4

Pairing: Hyrbid!BTSxReader

Words: 8.5k

Warnings: Smoking and Cursing

A/n: This took me forever to edit I hope y'all like it!

For the next four days Y/n had a very clingy wolf hybrid for a shadow. Namjoon refused to leave her side after that night, nudging her hips with his when they would pass each other in the house. It made Y/n smile knowing Namjoon was feeling a lot better, hell, he practically glowed at this point.

The wolf hybrid walks up behind her pressing his chest against her back while she stood in the kitchen chopping some onions to put in the crockpot for dinner later tonight. "Y/n?" Namjoon nudges her shoulder with his chin while Seokjin did his best to move around the wolf trying to get lunch prepared.

Y/n hummed in response to him saying her name. "What is it Joon?" She asks absently scraping the onion into a nearby bowl. Namjoon's chest rumbles against her as he thinks about how to phrase his question for her. "Nothing, actually- nevermind forget I said anything." The wolf hybrid releases her when he sees Seokjin glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

Seokjin hasn't been the only one a little jealous of the way the wolf clung to Y/n like a baby koala to it's mother. Hoseok and Jimin were a little irritated with how much time they were spending together, after all they knew exactly what was wrong with him from the start.

Meanwhile Taehyung and Yoongi were practically avoiding them all together like the plague. Barely ever coming down for breakfast or dinner the last few days, only coming out of their rooms if they needed something on their own terms.

Jungkook could care less that all of this was happening as he spent most of his time outside of the house that smelled heavily of the displeasing scents of envy and jealousy between the six of them that hovered around the house.

The next day went smoothly, Y/n was at the stables with Jimin and Jungkook trying to convince Dove to come out of her stall. "Come on Dovey, Jimin's here, you love Jimin!" Y/n attempts to convince the mare to come out by cooing at her and gently pulling on her harness. Jimin even tried scratching under her chin the way she liked so much but she just huffed at the trio in annoyance. "I guess we'll just have to try another time then." 

Later in the day Y/n walked through the kitchen and to the back porch to find Taehyung sitting in the hammock taking pictures of the evening sky with the old camera he had found. She didn't want to disturb him so she quietly walked down the stairs to the small flower beds around the porch Hoseok and Yoongi helped her put in earlier in the week.

Taehyung notices her take the final step off the porch and smiles to himself. After he had experienced her, for lack of a better word wild side a few days back he began to develop feelings for Y/n, he knew he probably shouldn't let himself get caught up in something as silly as hybrid and human relationships not to mention the promise he made to the others to share her. Taehyung shakes his head then takes a deep breath and sighs before quietly, his little white ears flicking around nervously, making his way down the porch steps to Y/n who was tending to the blooming flower bushes just in front of the house.

Taehyung musters up all the courage he had before he finally opened up his mouth to speak. "H-Hey Y/n I have a question for you. Uh, well a few actually." He stammers mentally cursing himself for the nerves but as Y/n looked up at him with her gorgeous eyes that shine brightly in the sun he couldn't help but smile down at her. His cheeks turn a light pink as she looks up at him with her adorable smile.

"Sure Tae what's up?" She says with a smile, Taehyung wrings his hands together before speaking again. "Listen about the other night--" Y/n coughs clearing her throat, effectively making the white tiger hybrid shut his mouth a little startled by her. "Oh, that uhm-- blame it on the alcohol. I shouldn't have done that to you in the first place and I'm really sorry for making you uncomfortable..." Y/n cheeks are red as crimson by this point and she can't look up at her hybrid again without getting embarrassed by her own drunken actions. 

Taehyung pauses with his mouth open as he was getting ready to ask her his questions but instead he whips his head around and sniffs the air for a moment, his eyes turning a pale shade of blue almost silver when he does. "Tae? Earth to Taehyung?" Y/n waves her hand in front of his face only for Taehyung to instinctively nip at her hand then he blinks and comes back the moment he nips at her. "S-Sorry about that, I just-- there's a new scent and I don't like it." Taehyung states plainly like it was the most normal thing in the world. Y/n only now noticed the little hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and a low chuff in warning slipping from his lips as if he was threatened. 

The sound of gravel crunching under heavy boots from the driveway was enough to catch Y/n's attention, especially when there was a knock on the wooden gate leading to the backyard. Y/n stands to her feet and brushes her hands off on her jeans before opening the gate to a very tall, well built man with long salt and pepper hair, adorning leather clothing and jacket. He was obviously older than her and most likely the rest of them as well but man if he was old there was no indication of him looking or acting his age that's for sure.

"Michael Maibery, what on earth are you doing back in town?" She yells with a smile giving the large man a big hug with a smile on her face, wrapping her arms around his neck happily. "I was just passing through and thought I'd stop by to see my favorite girl while I was here." He chuckles hugging her back just as tightly before letting go. "Look at how much you've grown! Last time I saw you I believe you were barely starting high school." 

The pair laugh with each other and catch up for a few more minutes before a deep growl can be heard from behind her. Y/n quickly turns around to see both her tiger and panther hybrid on the back porch with their arms crossed staring at the pair of them. "Uh before we continue to catch up, I would like to introduce you to my boys." 

Taehyung's heart skips a beat when she refers to them as her boys not the guys like she used to when they first started living at the farm with her. The strange man walked alongside her and onto the porch. His large stature a cause for intimidation but he's offered a seat and sits down. "Your boys huh?" Michael says shortly with a chuckle making Y/n blush only now realizing the words that had come out of her mouth.

"Y-Yeah my boys. They came in with the storm a few months or so ago and I just couldn't let them go back to being strays. My worst fear for any stray hybrid is Hybrid Control. They're anything but pleasant especially with exotic hybrids."  Y/n says sheepishly as Taehyung and Yoongi eye the stranger dangerously.

"Taehyung- Yoongi this is Michael Maibery, he was an old friend of my mothers growing up and he was there for me a lot when I moved in with my grandparents." Y/n spoke factly to the pair, she had hoped one of them would be civil enough to at least take the hand Michael had outstretched for one of them to take.

"I see these two aren't ones for a handshake. Noted." Michael chuckles before dropping his hand to his lap. "I see you've got the farm almost completely redone." He says awkwardly trying to shake off the odd feeling of being watched from behind before the sliding glass door is pulled open and Jimin comes rushing out and starts sniffing the new man with his tail wagging behind him.

"Who is this? He smells good, not to mention how handsome he is. Is that your bike out front? Y/n how come you never told us about-" The golden retriever speaks ninety to nothing with a bright smile on his face. "Okay Jimin, hold up a second- this is Michael he was an old friend of my mothers." 

Y/n struggles with prying the hyper dog hybrid off of Michael and calming him down beside her, holding tightly onto his waist. Michael sits smiling and laughing at the pair of them when Y/n speaks into Jimin's ear causing the poor guy's cheeks to go red for what reason he had no idea.

"I'm sorry for coming on so strong. I smelled you when you pulled up and I guess I got excited to meet someone who had a familiar scent to Y/n's." Jimin mumbled, Michael and Y/n exchange confused glances towards each other before returning to their previous conversation. 

"Oh to answer you, uh, yeah the boys really have helped me put things back together out here and the sunflowers are doing amazing as always. Yoongi and Hoseok, he's the red fox hybrid of mine... they helped me set up the flowerbeds by the porch a few weeks ago. The seven of them are handy in their own little ways, I guess."

Michael took a deep breath in through his nose, his wide baby blue eyes staring at her and the three hybrids currently outside. Jimin's tail had stopped thumping on the porch bench and he looked rather nervous, Taehyung's ear twitched as he looked anywhere but at the man and Yoongi just scowled at him his tail swishing around pointedly and one ear twitching like mad. 

"Seven? Are they all feline inclined? Well, except Jimin obviously." Michael smiled at him, giving him a scratch behind his ears. Jimin couldn't help but preen under his gaze as his tail resumed it's thumping against the outdoor couch.

Y/n was silent for a few seconds trying to figure out a way to explain to him that only one of her hybrids was domesticated, one was a prey hybrid and the rest were apex predators. Although Jungkook didn't put himself off as prey given his strong stature and the aura of fuck around and find out surrounding him on the daily.

"Uhm, well, n-no." Y/n voice comes out hesitantly and high pitched as she looks at Michael with a please don't judge me or them facial expression. "I have one domesticated, which would be Jimin here and six- uhm exotic hybrids. Five of which are predators and one that's p-prey. Although you wouldn't guess he was a prey hybrid if it wasn't for the antlers on his head." 

Y/n chuckles and releases her grasp on Jimin's waist and he jumps over to the other seat beside Michael without hesitation. He crosses his legs over the other as a bead of sweat trickles down his forehead and disappears under his shirt. "You have a deer hybrid? Aren't they extremely skittish and tend to run off a lot?"

Before Y/n could even open her mouth to correct him the doors to the back porch slide open for a final time as the last four of her hybrids tumble out of the house, Jungkook leading them outside and lighting a cigarette. "Alaskan Yukon Moose actually, I wouldn't survive as a deer if I'm being honest. Domestic or wild doesn't matter. What I want to know is why you smell so damn familiar." Jungkook grunts taking a long drag off his cigarette.

Michael shifts in his seat awkwardly glancing between Jungkook and Y/n practically begging her to save him. "Jungkook why do you have to be so blunt when you speak? It's like nails on a chalk board every time you open your fucking mouth." Yoongi growls his eyes flitted yellow towards the hybrid across the patio which only made Jungkook's small grin grow by the second. 

"Awe did I get under the kitties skin? It's an honest question and I'm sure everyone here wants to know why he smells just like Y/n 'cause I know I do- not my fault no one else is willing to fucking ask." Jungkook points between Y/n and Michael before he grunts again this time low and menacing as Yoongi hisses back at him. "Oh I'll get under your skin here in a fucking minute you over grown piece of meat."

"Hey now if you two want to fight you can take it to the stables! I will not have you two beaten and bloody on my porch! Do you understand me?" Y/n stands and barks at the hybrids causing everybody even Namjoon to flinch a little bit when she yelled over the pair of them arguing.

Jungkooks scoffs and rolls his eyes as Yoongi shuffles back inside pissed and ready to boil over in anger- slamming the glass door in the process making it shake with force. Y/n sits back down, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "I'm sorry I don't know what's gotten into them all of the sudden." 

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck glancing at Namjoon for a second before apologizing with his round eyes. Y/n pats him on the shoulder, telling him it was alright and to not think about it too much. 

"I see you've got your hands full. Nothing you can't handle though, right? You've always been the tough girl growing up." Michael chuckles and stands from the bench taking a few steps off the patio. "Where are you going?" Y/n stands quickly making the six hybrids shuffle a few paces after her. Michael turns back to the seven of them when he notices the panther staring from the kitchen window. "I know you're going to be well taken care of with these guys so, ain't really a reason for me to stay much longer."

Y/n is taken aback by his words, she hasn't seen him in years since her grandpa died and now he's just going to up and leave? "Will you stay for dinner? At least, please? I haven't seen you in forever and I would like to do introductions properly if I can?"

As the day went on both Taehyung and Yoongi stayed close to her side as much as they could. Seokjin helped her with dinner as per usual as if nothing was different between the two of them. Namjoon and Jungkook mainly stayed in the living room watching whatever was on the television. Hoseok and Jimin stayed outside to play catch to get rid of some of their energy before dinner. 

Dinner went smoothly as it could only a few arguments here and there. Yoongi ate his dinner in his room, Y/n had to leave his plate next to the door because he refused to answer, only giving her a grunt to acknowledge she was there.

Yoongi's reaction earlier made Y/n a little upset, she didn't mean to snap at him like that, she was just caught up in the moment and didn't want a fight on her hands. Not like she could have done much to pry the two of them apart if they did get into a fight. It made her feel angry but also hurt at the same time.

Any of her hybrids hurting anyone or each other made her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. She had grown attached to each of them and would hate to lose them just because of an argument or fight that could've been handled differently. 

The boys occupy themselves downstairs watching a movie meanwhile I sit in my room upstairs on my bed reading a book, or at least trying to. Having Michael over and the constant questions and lingering stares especially from Namjoon and Jungkook was enough to bristle the little hairs on the back of my neck the entire time he was here. They obviously suspected something that I didn't, never really thought of it if I'm being honest. Not to mention Yoongi holing himself up in his room since his little tiff with the moose hybrid. 

Yoongi has been on edge for a while which doesn't do anything for my nerves about his well being. Hybrid or not Yoongi and the other six are under my care for as long as they want it and the fact that scenting is a thing for them, makes me wonder if Yoongi needs the same thing right now. Well maybe not right now, I figure whenever one of them needs something like that, something that seems so intimate to me but maybe something so natural to them I'll leave it to them because the last thing I want to see is one of them looking as sickly as Namjoon did a few days ago.

A few moments drag by as I attempt to resume my reading when a soft knock comes from my bedroom door. It slowly creaks open and I remind myself to fix the hinges at some point. Then within a second a pair of white striped ears poke around the door before a pair of dark orbs land on my figure curled in bed with an interesting choice of book. 

Taehyung looks around the room seemingly waiting to be invited in but before I can give him the okay the flash of a golden tail tackles me onto my back. "Y/n you missed it! We were watching the Notebook and Yoongi hyung actually came down-" Jimin cuts himself off, his tail going ramrod stiff and looks over at Taehyung who chuffs loudly, hanging out by the door with his arms crossed looking between the pair of us. "We just wanted to come by and say goodnight before we head off to bed. Also Yoongi is looking for you, he's sitting in the living room." 

Taehyung looks at Jimin with a passing glance before looking back to me, his gaze lingering and his mind wandering back to the night of the bonfire. She was so close yet so far from him, it ignited a fire within him he didn't know was there and when Michael decided to show up, it took everything he had not to thoroughly scent her and stick to Y/n like he owned her even though he knew it was the other way around. 

"Oh okay well, I'll be down there in a minute. Jiminie, I need you off of me babes." I look at the golden retriever hybrid with a shy smile before he kisses my forehead absently with a wag of his beautiful tail, he hops off of me and curling into Taehyung's side and he closes the door behind them.

I take a moment to collect myself, just what have I gotten myself into with these seven hybrids? These seven men? My mother would have gone a long with my decisions and been supportive with whatever I decided to do yet my father however always thought hybrids were nothing more than their animals.

I hated that about him, I remember one time when I was barely thirteen my father took me to the store for some beer and crappy snacks for his friends coming over later that day. I usually always kept my head down to keep my father from lashing out at me. I kept my arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times as they say.

But then after a while of walking down the bread and snack aisle I heard laughing and little snickers from a family next to us. I looked up while my father wasn't paying attention to see a little boy playing with a bunny hybrid, they looked about the same age at the time but she was taller than him. They were play fighting while the mother looked through the different snacks, a tiny bunny hybrid in the cart chewing on a half eaten celery stick while the bunny hybrid mother talked with the mother of the little boy.

They seemed like a really happy little family, all smiles and bursting with laughter. That was something I wanted but felt I didn't deserve at least that would be what my father would tell me once we were out of the store. He told me God punishes those who deserve to be punished, he said that I was always a bad girl since I turned ten and I deserved nothing less. 

That night I spent only my second night locked in the basement without food or water for almost a week. 

"Y/n?" Yoongi's voice drifted through the small crack between my double doors causing me to jump a little. "Yoongi, I was just about to head downstairs, are you alright?" I ask him softly closing my book and resting it on my nightstand almost knocking over my bottle of water. "M'fine, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I know it was uncalled for it's just- Jungkook has always gotten on my nerves I just- never cared to respond to his bullshit before."

I notice the slight sheen on his forehead as he stands idle in the doorway but chose not to address it. Instead I study him for a moment while he spoke, his ears were pressed to his skull like he was afraid I was going to lash out at him like I had just hours prior. His stance stood tall and firm though, that was the one thing I noticed about Yoongi.

No matter how hard he tried to hide much of his emotions besides indifference of course, his ears would give him away every single time. The way they twitched when something bothered him, the way one of them would always droop when he was getting tired but wouldn't admit it. I found it adorable but also endearing all at the same time. 

I take a deep breath and with a small smile Yoongi's ears begin to perk up a little bit. "It's okay Yoons, I'm sorry for snapping at you the way I did. I didn't mean to I just- didn't want anything to happen to either of you. You guys mean a lot to me, like a big family. Something I never really had, I promise I'll do better to control my anger."

Yoongi's tail taps the door seemingly happy he was forgiven about his behavior. Yoongi noticed the distant shine in Y/n's eyes from the bedside lamp, he takes a step forward but thinks better of it, trying to fight his instincts to hold her to him and scent her until they both fell asleep. 

Yoongi clears his throat and nods at Y/n before giving her a tight lipped smile and slipping out of the door and speeding off to his room rushing past Seokjin making his way to his own bed after taking a shower the latter shaking off his weird behavior after he smells Y/n's scent lingering past his nose.

Today was filled with the necessary things that needed to be done. Y/n had talked to John and his grandfather for a good portion of the early morning. The mustang they had brought in was finally broken in and ready for resell or anything they wanted it for really. Jimin was a little reluctant to let him go and Dove seemed a little irked about it was well but Y/n pulled him into the horse trailer by the rope around his neck nonetheless.

"Thanks again Y/n, I knew we could count on you." John's grandfather beamed up at her, Y/n returning a smile of her own. "Of course pops, anything to help you guys out. You should really teach John how to properly ride a horse, though I thought he would have learned by now." Y/n quips looking over at him with a chuckle as John turned around looking a little hurt by her words with a hand over his chest. "Why ride a horse when you have a perfectly good ATV to drive?" He laughs after locking the trailer door, leaving with a side hug from Y/n and a small wave to the two hybrids perched on the front porch as they drove pass.

Once they drive away Y/n walks back inside when her phone rings a few times before she pulls it out of her pocket and answers it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello? I'm sorry who is this?" She asks as a low voice begins to speak through the receiver. 

"Hello Miss Fontana this is Anthony Biltuck with Biltuck and Houston law firm how are you doing today?" She furrowed her brows then looks at her phone screen and sure enough it was the exact law firm mentioned. Why would a law firm be contacting her at such an early hour of the day? She was sure there was no law firm in the area that was even remotely opened this early or on a weekend.

"I'm fine all things considered. Why are you calling me?" She asks a tone of apprehension laced in her voice as Seokjin and Jungkook come to the landing of the staircase and Yoongi and Namjoon listen in from the living room, turning the television down to listen in on her phone call. 

"Lovely, listen I was calling you about your Uncle James that has recently passed away.-" Uncle? Last Y/n knew she only had her grandparents, she knew nothing of this self proclaimed Uncle James. She began to pace the floor with her free arm across her middle.

"Wait, I don't know a James much less an Uncle James. Are you sure you don't have the wrong number?" She asks hesitantly as all of the hybrids have gathered around her. Jimin comes to her side and nudges her arm, then holding her hand and lacing his fingers with hers, rubbing his thumb against her wrist. Y/n glances at him with a small smile calming her nerves enough to keep her voice from breaking from anxiety.

"I understand the confusion but you are Y/n M/n Fontana? Born to Jonathan and Larissa Fontana? James was Jonathan's older brother, I would also like to send my condolences to you and family for the loss of your father-"

Y/n's whole body freezes at the mere mention of her father, the man who beat her every chance he got. She hadn't heard his name nor had she heard him labeled as her father for years. It made her scent go sour, making a few of the hybrids to cover their nose or like Jungkook completely leave the area in favor for outside. Y/n squeezes Jimin's hand absently and if he didn't know any better he'd say that her parents were a sore spot for her, especially her father.

"Y-Yeah th-that's me." She stuttered making Jimin go heavy on his scenting in hopes he could calm her like he had before. Rubbing the top of her head with his cheek and holding her close to him whining quietly as her scent began to dull under his touch. Yoongi had stayed close to her opting to gently hold the hand Jimin had let go of in favor of holding her waist. His tail wrapped tightly around her thigh his ears flat against his skull much like Jimins.

"Great! I'm going to need you to come up to Billings Montana for a few weeks maybe a month or two to go through the will and make a few decisions on his affairs that he's left for you." 

"Montana?" She managed to choke out looking between the two hybrids that had stayed to comfort her.

"Yes, I would need to know how many of yours you will be bringing with you before you come this way. Don't worry everything will be paid for since this is a family affair after all." The attorney seems set on her coming all the way up there, not to mention it all being paid for? Under different circumstances Y/n would have jumped on the next available flight and been done with whatever is going on here. But with seven hybrids who don't even have their collars much less the proper adoption papers to board the plane? 

Goddamn she had a lot more to do than she previously thought.

"Uhm as of right now- there will be eight of us, I don't want to leave my b-hybrids by themselves." Slowly getting a grip on reality her scent had gone back to pretty normal all things considered. She didn't know where to go for the legal papers, perhaps she could go down to the adoption agency and get things together there. Then she would have to get all of them collars even though she hated the thought of having to put ownership on seven men perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Then again it is the law and the last thing she wants is for any of them taken away from her.

"I'll have to take care of a few things before I can make it up there I-"

"That is perfectly fine Miss Fontana. The complete will reading isn't for another two weeks you have time to get your affairs in order before leaving. I'll email you the plane tickets once the flight is booked for- eight." 

Once he said his goodbyes and hung up the phone Y/n was stuck in her own head for a minute or two when Jungkook and Namjoon came back inside from the back porch with curious looks on their faces. 

Y/n was still frozen in her spot- her mind going a million miles an hour while Jimin tugged on her flannel to get her to look at him. "She's frozen, what do we do? She won't move and her eyes are glossed over." Jimin whines his tail thumping against his leg- filled with anxiety as he tried to find her gaze like he had at the grocery store, trying to get her to come back to them. "The best thing to do for her right now is to sit her ass in a chair before her knees buckle out from under her." Yoongi says in a cool tone, pulling on her arm to which Y/n absently follows him to the lazy chair in the living room.

They sit her in the recliner as her mind swirls with questions and even less answers. She had an Uncle and a side of the family she's never even heard of and now she had assets and affairs left to her by some long lost Uncle on her fathers side.

Her father never mentioned he even had a brother, come to think of it he never mentioned his family even when her mother was alive, that she knew of. He kept a tight lid on that can of worms until the day he died by her hands, literally taking that little bit of information with him to the grave.

Jimin tucks himself behind her, wrapping his legs around her along with his arms- he's really worried for her because it's never taken her this long to come out of this trance before. Usually him or one of the others can snap her out of it pretty quickly but this?

This was something else entirely.

Yoongi kneels down to her level taking her hands in his causing her to flick her eyes to his soft caramel orbs. "Hey kitten, I'm going to need you to explain that phone call to us." He says in his calm low tenor tone smoothing his thumb over her tan skin gently, giving her a faint smile to hopefully coax an answer out of her. 

Her lips twitch into a small smile of her own, unable to not smile after seeing Yoongi's little cat like grin. "I guess an estranged uncle of mine died and left a few things to me? He was my-" She takes a deep breath and sighs heavily. "-fathers older brother. I've never heard of him until today which is odd in itself but now I have to  finish getting things ready for the upcoming winter a little faster than I wanted- not to mention I have to get you guys stupid collars for the flight and figure out adoption papers on top of all of that..." 

Y/n leans forward and Jimin releases his hold on her as she slumps over burying her face in her hands letting out a sigh of frustration while bouncing her leg. They came to her as strays she didn't know if any of them had previous owners or if they truly were strays. Come to think of it she's had them here for months and doesn't know a whole lot about the seven of them in the first place. She was just happy to have people around after being alone for so long.

What was a girl like her to do?

The next few days is spent outside getting the ranch winter ready seeing as the weather was cooling down significantly. Y/n was getting out some of Dove's winter coats for when she sits in the stables and her phone rings.

This time it was John and of course Emily was with him this time instead of his grandfather. Y/n had explained everything to them the same day it had happened and needless to say her friends were scared for her because the two of them were the only ones who knew what really happened to her father all those years ago.

"Hey girly pop, how are things going?" Emily asks oddly quiet from the other end when she doesn't answer right away. "Oh uh- everything's fine, yeah. Jimin and Jungkook have been a lot of help in the stables and the others have been working hard making sure the plants won't be too terribly damaged while we're gone." Y/n huffs out raking her hand through her hair before putting her hat back on her head, today was a little hotter than the others so she was sweating just a little after dragging the heavy blankets out of storage.

Emily could tell by the tone of her best friends voice that she was thinking far more about other things than what she was physically doing, keeping her hands busy was a way of distracting herself from reality. "Y/n babes we were just calling you about the adoption papers you needed to fly out there and there's a small snag-" She pauses, waiting for the go ahead from John who's sat next to her in his living room. "Jimin still has an owner, his name is Bill Wittaker. He lives in the trailer park a few miles away from your farm house and-"

"We called him and he seemed pretty pissed that you had him in the first place." John interrupts Emily as she had stuttered just a second beforehand. Y/n's heart stopped at the mention of the man that had all rights to take Jimin away from her, all the color in her cheeks drained making her look lifeless. John and Emily are worried when they don't hear a single word nor a sound from the other end of the phone. 

Y/n turned to see Jimin sat atop Dove with his beautiful smile and crescent shaped eyes as he rode the horse around for a bit laughing and having a good time. His yellow blonde hair flowing in the wind, the sun shining over his lightly tanned features, his strong legs draped over either side of the saddle and boots in the stirrups like a professional. He looked every bit like he had jumped out of a romance novel.

Y/n had gotten to know the retriever hybrid the best since they came here, always next to her like a true golden retriever. Always doing what she asked no matter how ridiculous her requests sounded to him, maybe a few side eyed expressions thrown her way every now and then, very sassy, very Jimin.

Everyone had their secrets Y/n knew that much for she had a few of her own she kept tucked away at the furthest corners of her mind. She just wished to know why Jimin would keep this type of information from her if he was to go with her in just a matter of ten days to a whole other state.

"Y/n? Are you there?" John asks through the phone, biting the nubs he called nails as Emily took the phone from his hand. "Listen Y/n I know how you must be feeling right now but you know we could always go down there and talk to him. I would bring Jimin with you just in case worse comes to worse, ya know?" Y/n absently nods her head before whispering a small yes from her tear filled tone. She wasn't ready to let Jimin go, not if her stubborn brain had anything to say about it.

As Y/n pulled her truck into the junk filled driveway of Bill's rather unkept home. Jimin shifts in the seat closer to her his tail wound tightly around her forearm nearly cutting off circulation from the last mile when he attached himself to her. His form seems even smaller as he curls into her side plunging his nose into her neck the best he could, slightly trembling.

"Do we really have to be here? Couldn't you just talk to him over the phone?" Jimin whispers into the crook of her neck as Emily slid out of the passengers side, holding her nose as a few non-hybrid cats loom around her feet their tails chopped off into little stubs at their backsides meowing loudly and rubbing against her pant leg. 

Y/n puts her hand on his cheek making Jimin look at her with the most heart broken expression on his beautiful face and her heart aches for him as she coos. "Don't worry Jiminie, we're just going to talk through a few things and get your adoption papers filled out correctly." She kissed his temple softly, a silent promise between the pair of them, letting him hold onto her for as long as he felt the need to- which he didn't seem like he was ever going to let go of her anytime soon.

The three of them barely made it to the door before it swung open and a very unsightly obviously older man stood at the threshold holding a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He stood there blinking a few times before he fixed his shirt and cleared his throat. 

"I see you brought the damn bastard with you, lets talk inside." The man sneers looking down at Jimin with a fixated snarl on his face making Y/n stand between the two of them protectively. Jimin curls in on himself behind her whimpering like a kicked puppy as they entered the trashed trailer.

You didn't need to be a hybrid to smell the black mold or lime scale littering the trailer. No matter how hard Emily tried to hide her disgust her facial expressions didn't help her in the slightest. She walked around with Y/n and Jimin following the man into the living room which was actually kind of clean to their surprise.

Taking a seat in the living room, Jimin still attached to Y/n and flinching every time the man in front of them moved in the slightest. Y/n felt something was very off about him besides the obvious disarray the man kept his home in. Gauging Jimins reactions there was no doubt some level of abuse going on in this house which made her blood boil and her ears turn red with anger, though she kept her emotions well hidden- better than Emily at least.

"We're here to discuss- well, rather fix Jimin's adoption papers so that I can take him on vacation with me in the next few days." Y/n speaks calmly though she grits her teeth into some form of a smile when she meets Bill's eyes that finally peeled themselves off of the whining hybrid next to her.

His smile is nasty, missing a few teeth the rest of them crooked and miscolored different shades of yellow. He leans forward in the lazy chair causing Jimin and Emily to move back but Y/n stood her ground keeping a hand on Jimins knee to keep his shivering form somewhat calm. "I see, y'know he ran away almost a year ago and his siblins' been missing him terribly-" Bill chuckles darkly turning his burning gaze back to the terrified hybrid shaking in his boots and hiding his face from view behind Y/n's shoulder.

"I have every right to keep 'em here given the 'doption papers say he belongs to me and only me." The man was nasty disgusting even, it took every ounce of restraint Y/n had in her not to slap the shit out of him with the way he kept looking at Jimin like a piece of meat. Scanning his body up and down like he was ready to devour him at a moments notice.

Y/n didn't know Jimin had siblings much less a mother given most hybrids had been made in labs especially the more exotic breeds. Nonetheless she kept firm hold on his knee to help keep him calm and herself from pouncing on Bill like a feral animal. If she was going to convince him to give Jimin up she needed this exchange to go smoothly. 

"I understand that sir but I see you have more than your fair share of animals here, hybrid and non-hybrid alike. I would like to talk about uhm, adopting Jimin from you. He's been a very big help at my farm-" Bill raises his hand in front of her face to stop her talking before he looks in her direction his eyes glowing with something akin to mischief but more sinister. 

"A farm you say? So you must have a pretty penny to spend, huh?" Bill grins as he waits for Y/n to respond.  She shifts in her seat highly uncomfortable with the way he was staring at her with money hungry eyes. Emily looks at her from the side keeping her mouth closed in a tight lipped smile before exchanging a silent agreement between the two of them. 

"Name your price and I'll pay it. I just want to take him home, please." Y/n all but begs the man in front of her as Jimin picks his head up out of her neck his eyes pleading with her when he gets her attention. "Please Y/n you don't have to pay for me. I'll just stay here it's fine I promise. He'll bleed you dry if you-" 

Bill jumps from his chair and raises his hand to hit Jimin into silence. He flinches so hard he actually climbs halfway over the couch to flee the situation he feels he's caused. Y/n shoots up from her seat and grips Bill's wrist tightly- keeping his hand in place the look of pure hellfire in her eyes evident enough to both Bill and Emily that she wasn't going to let this man lay a single digit on her poor hybrid ever again.

"I'll give you three-hundred if you sign the adoption papers over to me giving me sole custody of him and swear on your life you will not under any circumstances set foot on my property for any reason to claim him back into your- care." Y/n spits her words at Bill her face a full grimace burning holes into his head as he rips his wrist from her solid grip grumbling some curse words and small form of agreement.

A little while later Y/n had just barely dropped Emily back off at Johns house and finally made it back to her own home breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Resting her head heavily on the back of the bench seat in her old beat up truck and closing her eyes she barely registers the heavy head on her right shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Y/n. I was scared you'd send me back so I didn't say anything..." Jimins voice was so soft she almost didn't hear him when he muttered his mumbled apology to her. She raises her head and rests her cheek on the crown of his head softly rubbing it against his shaggy blonde hair absently which she seemed to do often- even if she wasn't a hybrid herself.

Jimin didn't seem to mind though. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry for Jiminie." She mutters softly with her sweet accent, gently taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together with a small smile on her face. "Besides the bastard is lucky I didn't throat punch him and call the cops on him." She chuckles a little making Jimin do the same.

He snuggles in closer to her nudging his nose into the crook of her neck scenting her in appreciation for what she had done for him. Jimin was beyond grateful and a little surprised at the lengths Y/n was willing to go for him. It was sitting in the truck in that moment that he had realized the feelings he had for her at the start of these crazy months was blooming into something much more, intimate. 

"Why don't you say we head inside before the others come looking for us?" She coos softly, faintly kissing his forehead and Jimin leaning into it as his golden tail began to thump on the bench seat for the first time since their journey started.

"Y/n, do you ever feel like- maybe you've found the place you're meant to be? Maybe it's just my instincts or my yearning to have a place to truly call home but," Jimin pauses for a moment before Y/n picks her head up again and Jimin does the same. They look into each others eyes neither one looking away. It's like time had stopped for the pair of them, a silent song playing to fill the silence and suddenly Jimin could see it all.

The eight of them living in this very house together all smiles and laughter swirling about the late evenings. Summer night bonfires with friends and family. Early mornings tending to the farm animals with a to go cup of coffee sitting in the truck as Y/n takes Dove out for a morning ride with Jimin beside her on his own horse laughing and smiling until his cheeks hurt. 

Some mornings though, would be spent sleeping in until the late hours of the morning maybe until early afternoon. Laying in bed together, Jimin able to see the beautiful grace of her morning bedhead as she slept peacefully next to him. Her cheek squished against her pillow making her lips form an adorable pout just waiting to be kissed awake. 

And maybe one day there would be little pups running around his legs, begging to be picked up and carried around on their daddy's back pretending to be a horse of their own. Or perhaps spending cool evenings around the porch firepit roasting marshmallows over the fire. Jimin most likely burning more than a few of them making the pups laugh. Saying things like 'silly daddy, you're not supposed to burn them' or possibly hear them make grossed out noises when he just pops the burnt marshmallow into his mouth and eat it with a smile. 

And by the end of the night after they've gone to bed and said goodnight to their uncles, the eight of them would settle down for a movie before bed. Y/n would be cuddled in close to his side wrapped up in one of the big blankets from the linen closet and when the movie would be over Jimin would have to carry her to bed and tuck her in. Slipping in behind her with a content sigh as his held her close to his chest and slowly letting himself drift off to sleep himself only to do it all over again the next day.

The pair began to close the gap between them. Y/n cheeks burned bright as Jimins nose brushed her own and she sucked in a harsh gasp of air holding it for dear life as their lips connected. The kiss was still for a second before Jimins eyes fluttered closed lost in the taste of her lips against his. Y/n followed suit shortly after his lips began to move against hers. She wasn't expecting it but he was a domesticated hybrid and once again she was reminded to look up more information about the seven of them if she was to survive all of them. 

Her mind didn't stop her from enjoying the way Jimins pillow soft lips felt against her own. His lips felt something akin to a fresh dough before being thrown in the oven to bake. The way his lips moved against hers so perfectly, the outside world long forgotten to her and him. Jimin shifted in the seat to face her better, pushing against her and to his surprise she pushed back. 

The retriever hybrid pulled on the loop of her jeans on either side of her hips successfully pulling her into his lap. Y/n cradled his face in her hand drifting to the nape of his neck and weaving it into his hair. The other rested on his opposite shoulder as his small yet agile hands kneading into her hip dips just below the belt of her jeans. The windows began to fog up just barely as the sun had set below the horizon and the cool night air began to nip at the back of Y/n's neck since the truck was off. 

Jimin was the one to break the kiss, his eyes heavy and blown out keeping a firm grip on her hips refusing to let go of her just yet. He hazily looks into her eyes with a goofy yet droopy, doped up smile on his face making his eyes close into crescents. "Well, that wasn't- I mean it was..." Y/n struggles to find the right words for what just happened between them when Jimin cups her cheeks between his hands with a stupid grin on his face quickly kissing her nose.

"You don't have to say anything right now princess, I honestly forgot my own train of thought. Really you're just so intoxicating by yourself and after what you did for me today- it just put a few things into perspective and I really liked you from the start but now-" Jimin was nearly scared half to death with a knock to the driver's side window and Y/n quickly scrambles out of his lap and unceremoniously manages to not kill herself sliding out of the passengers side door and onto her feet like an agile cat landing on it's paws. 

"What're you guys doing in there for so long the windows fogged up?" Jungkook asks with his shit eating grin on his face. Y/n rounds the truck with Jimin behind her holding onto his hand blankly staring at the moose hybrid before her. "Oh shut up, how long were you standing there?" Y/n stabs her finger into his chest. "Fucking Christ woman I just got out here two seconds ago, slow your roll." Jungkook chuckles removing her accusing finger from his chest cavity and rubbing the spot attentively. He notices the clouded look on Jimins face and it suddenly dawns on him what must have happened.

One of them finally made a real move on their person.

TAGLIST: @valpinkk @moonxxlover @meowforluv

A/N: Ah! I've been waiting to post this chapter forever! The next chapter will be the last one for a little while since the next five chapters are when things get serious!

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SEVEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels x f!reader)

Summary: You and Jack have a real conversation for the first time and you find out he's more vulnerable than you thought

(This is the seventh chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

Warnings: hurt, angst, hurt, angst, talk of past trauma, asshole!jack (but not really), mom!reader, and fluff because Wyatt is too cute

A/N: besties, I gotta confess 🥺 that I teared up writing this one, I don't know how you will all react, but my heart is broken for jack and reader 🥺

3.2k words

It was only evening when Wyatt finally showed signs of being tired. He loved Silver Pony so much and no matter if Jack showed him the other horses, he was hooked to your favorite girl, always clinging to her and stroking her soft fur. Silver Pony also enjoyed the affection, always hovering around the two of you gently, making your son giggle and reward both you and Jack with his sweet laughs. 

The cowboy didn't interfere, he just watched the two of you having fun, his mind wandering through his thoughts. For once, he didn't think of his late wife and their unborn son, instead, he kept thinking of you and Wyatt, wondering and picturing what life would be like if he hadn't made you go away, if he'd taken care of you while you were pregnant, he was sure you were glowing and looking gorgeous, he thought of what would it be like holding you at night, stroking your pregnant bump and talking to the baby in your womb. How he would shower you in presents and you two would get the baby's room ready together. He liked imagining taking care of Wyatt as a newborn, how he would probably be afraid of holding him and you would soothe him. You two would be so happy with your beautiful little family. He thought of all the celebrations and parties that could have happened on his ranch, your engagement dinner, your wedding party, Wyatt's first birthday and so on. It shattered his heart to think he had missed out on an entire life of happiness only because he was a bad person. 

He watched as the sun was setting and got up, gathering the basket and walking towards Silver Pony "I think we should head back, the sun is going down and Helen made us dinner…" he swallowed "it's your favorite sugar" he looked at you with his puppy eyes and you controlled the urge of rolling your own. It baffled you his ability of being a real dick and pretending nothing was happening, you were going to ignore what he said, but Wyatt smiled big "mommy happy?" He asked and you nodded, turning to Silver Pony "I'm very happy because I have you, my beautiful son, and also our gorgeous Silver Pony" she caressed down the mare's face and Wyatt whimpered as he couldn't reach it, so Jack quickly joined them, lifting him up and he imitated his mommy's gesture 

"I wove Silvew Pony… can we take hew home, mommy?" He tilted his head in such innocent way your chest tightened and you laughed softly at him "we can't fit her in our apartment baby, otherwise I'd love to take her with us, so for now she has to stay here" 

Wyatt pouted and nodded and then his face lit up as he had an amazing idea "can we wive hewe? With cowboy, mommy, Wyatt and Silvew Pony" he said happily and clapped his hands excitedly. Jack swallowed sadly and looked at you, you glanced back at him and licked your lips. As much as you wanted to punch him, you couldn't help but feel your lips tingling every time you remembered the kiss he forcefully imposed on you. 

"I would love for you and your mommy to live with me, big guy, but I think mommy likes the city, but you two are always welcome here, to spend the weekend or as long as you would like" he said and rubbed Wyatt's arm, seeing his skin was cold and they should probably get back inside. 

"Y/N… Wyatt is a little cold…" he said as he gently placed his big hand on your arm, startling you as you didn't expect his warm touch. "You're cold too. Here…" he told you, carefully handing you Wyatt as he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around your body. 

You didn't say much as Wyatt snuggled you, clinging to your body and yawning as your warmth spread through his body. You also tried not paying attention to Jack's scent lingering all over it. It smelled like pine, a little bit of cologne, whiskey and him. It used to be your favorite smell in the whole world, but now it only left shattered pieces of your heart behind. You nuzzled Wyatt's curls and kissed his forehead, making him giggle as you two rushed inside as Jack stayed behind to take Silver Pony back into the stable. 

Helen greeted you at the door, you knew Saturdays evenings she went back to her home and would only come back on Monday, she was ready to go, but not without showering Wyatt and kisses and hugging you tight, telling you once again how happy she was to see you and how she wished you would come more often to visit them, you nodded and said goodbye, feeling happy to have seen the woman and placed Wyatt down. You took off Jack's jacket just in time to see him walk through the door and handed it back to him "thank you" you said in a low voice and turned to your son "now you're gonna get a nice warm shower, okay? So we can have yummy dinner" she told him, but he pouted and hugged his dad's legs, who knelt in front of him and stroked his cheek "mommy is right, buddy, you gotta do what she says, it's time for shower because no one likes a smelly cowboy" he winked and tickled his tummy making his son laugh. 

You nodded, surprised at Jack's reinforcement as you expected low of him after he displayed his true character towards you so many times. You just assumed he would always take the easy road in order to be Wyatt's favorite, but it was good he knew you should work as a team and not as rivals. 

You took Wyatt back to the guest bedroom you'd be having through the night as you would help him shower in the bathroom. He was excited to put on his horses PJs after showering, so he could show his cowboy friend how much of a cowboy himself he was. You chuckled, finding it amusing while Wyatt already got undressed by himself and got under the shower wanting to be over with it as soon as possible; though you tried starting it, no stream of water came out and you sighed, as you had no idea how to fix it, you wrapped a towel around your son and went to the stairs, calling Jack so he could assist you. He ran up the stairs as quickly as possible, excitement rushed through his veins as you were addressing him "what's wrong?" He licked his bottom lip and watched you intently

"Shower's not working" you informed him and he nodded and followed you into the bathroom. Wyatt giggled as he saw the cowboy, he shyly hid under his mommy still in his towel, waiting patiently while Jack took a look at things. 

"Seems like this cowboy will have to shower somewhere else and you too sugar. You can take the bathroom in my bedroom, you know where it is and you can use the tub as well" he said with an excited smile at Wyatt "how's that buddy? Would you like to be a water cowboy tonight?" He cooed at Wyatt who nodded excitedly "pwease mommy, i want to pway watew cowboy" he pouted and you agreed, heading towards Jack's bedroom - the one that used to be yours too. 

"I'll warm up dinner while you bathe him, sugar, unless you want my help…" he offered but you quickly dismissed. 

After Wyatt had a blast in Jack's tub and begged you to brush your hair to the side just like the cowboy's, the three of you had dinner together. Helen had been so kind to make your favorite dish, along with some nuggets for your son, who enjoyed every second of it completely oblivious to the tension between you and his daddy. 

Wyatt didn't take long to fall asleep on the couch after the amount of fun and activities he had during the week. He was so happy and enjoyed every single minute of the day and, though Jack sighed a little disappointed as he saw him already fast asleep

"I wanted to show him the bedroom I set up for him… Y/N please, I want Wyatt to keep coming here, you too, of course, so you can visit Helen and Silver Pony, but I know you hate my guts so I won't force you to come any longer, but I want my son around" he said as he sat on the edge of the couch and caressed his hair gently. 

"Why did you come back after so long? I don't understand… I know you've been providing us with money here and there and that you also watched us from afar, but why now?" 

You saw how tense Jack got as he looked down and took a deep breath, ready to speak but then changed his mind as Wyatt whimpered in his dream "this ain't something we should talk about in front of a kid, Y/N… go relax, take your shower and I'll tell you later" he said firmly and very gently picked up Wyatt, asking you to follow him down the hallway where he stood next to a door, which you remembered really well it was another guest bedroom, but apparently Jack had made it into Wyatt's room. He waited for you to open the door as his own hands were busy with your son and your heart warmed at how beautifully he had it made. 

It was of course, all farm themed, with paintings on the wall, all kinds of animal plushies and matching furniture. You knew your son would go crazy once he saw it and you couldn't help tearing up at how thoughtful that place was. Even if things were ruined between you and Jack, maybe he could be a good father after all. 

He covered Wyatt gently and pecked his forehead, turning to you and giving you another sad smile "you should go shower now, we can talk in a little while" 

                           •••

Jack waited for you to exit the bathroom in his master room with a glass of scotch in hands and sitting down in the armchair. He felt anxious at the same time he wanted to get things done with you as soon as possible. He knew you deserved the truth, as well as his apologies though he was sure you wouldn't actually accept them, still he had to try. He wanted his son around and he could only get it if you could stand him at least a little, because even if he had blackmailed you, he didn't want to bring lawyers into the game, he didn't want to take things to the court and cause you and Wyatt more distress. He hoped he could make things civil between the two of you and he knew the way of getting into it was being honest with you. 

He could hear the shower running and wondered why you hadn't bathed in the tub, as you loved doing it and very often invited him to join in with you. He felt a wave of lust hitting him, as he thought of all the time you'd spent there together, how you touched each other's bodies, your lips on him, your taste in his mouth, he was so happy and wasn't even aware that would end some day. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts he barely noticed the shower went completely silent and a few minutes later, you opened the door and walked out only in your underwear, completely unaware of him at first. He gasped and felt his mouth getting dry, not expecting such a beautiful sight for his sore eyes, he licked his lips and wasn't sure if he should make his presence known, though his presence was completely explicit as he was sat there a few meters from you, under the bright lights, you were just too distracted, and he knew exactly what had caught your attention: the picture frame he had in one of his shelves. It was you and Wyatt, on his first birthday. 

You didn't know how you missed it the first time you'd been into his bedroom earlier, taking your son to be bathed, but now you saw it: it was a picture of you and him. You didn't know how Jack managed to get his hands on that picture, but it was also quite shocking as you analyzed the rest of the furniture and the wall and you didn't find any pictures of his late wife. Why did he keep your pictures and not hers? It was another Jack Daniels mystery you weren't sure you wanted to find out. 

You knew you would have to put up some clothes and find him, he managed to make you curious and you didn't know until what extent he needed to tell you something serious or if it was one of his games, but once you turned away and walked to his bed to get the clothes you'd left there, you finally spotted him in the armchair. Your heart nearly stopped at the sight of him there, you didn't expect to see Jack and he looked almost as shocked as you did, not believing you were flashing him your body like that. 

"Fuck Jack, what are you doing here?" You raised your voice at him, anger and embarrassment formed a wave inside of you, as you immediately grabbed your towel and covered yourself. 

He swallowed hard and finished his whiskey, looking embarrassed himself and rubbed the back of his neck "I didn't know you would come out of the shower without clothes, well, technically you're covering your… body" he said choosing his words carefully "but I thought you'd be fully dressed and well, you look gorgeous, even better than what I remembered, if it makes you feel any better. 

You scoffed at him and shook your head 

"Gorgeous? You said I looked rough this morning, Jack… you don't have to pity me. Besides, don't forget you're older than me and with the way you drink, you can start kissing your pretty face goodbye real soon, so you will definitely look rougher than me" you spat at him, not caring if that was pretty at all. You caught a hint of hurt in his eyes and that made you feel really proud even if it shouldn't have, but he immediately shook his head and stared at you. 

"I deserved that" he chuckled dryly "but I didn't mean that, and I also didn't mean anything bad I told you before… I am a dick I know, but I knew you hated my guts after I made you leave and I thought to myself it would be easier for me if I just pushed you away, you hate me Y/N and you got all the right to do so, and I thought it would be less painful if I forced myself to believe I hated you too, maybe if I tried hard enough, I'd stop loving you and it would be easier to handle your rejection" he said feeling ashamed and looked down. 

You sat in the other armchair, the towel covering your body as you listened to his words 

"You don't look rough at all, you're as gorgeous as you were the day you walked out of my life, Y/N, you're not a bitch, and I won't get any lawyers, I promise you" he said with a small voice "I've been hurting you so you hate me more, because I will never be worthy of your love again, I lost you, but I don't wanna lose my kid, Y/N, please" he said honestly and watched as you just had a hard expression on your face 

"You know Jack, the first time I saw you, I was already head over heels, you were on a mission and I had no idea, but I saw you approaching that woman and throwing your charm and she refused you. It was kind of funny, but all I could think of was that if it were me, it would've worked, you would have me wrapped around your finger…" you said "and only at the end of the night you saw me… and then when we started dating, I found out you'd been married before, and that's the problem with you, I'm always your second option, and I will always be" you shrugged "it hurts… to know I'm not the woman that's on your mind, that whenever we do something special to know you are thinking of how much you'd like to do with her instead… I don't want my son to grow up knowing he is only here because you couldn't have your first option… I don't want him to feel he has to compete with a ghost, because that's how I felt… that's even how I feel Jack, because do you even hear yourself? You would never do this to your wife…. You would never try to push her away by being cruel like you are, if it were her, you would get on your knees and beg for her forgiveness" you said and got up walking to his bed and getting your clothes. You didn't want to talk to him anymore, you were tired of being that hurt, as you tried leaving, he got up and held you by your wrist, firmly, making it clear you were only leaving that place when he wanted you to 

"The reason why I wanted you and my son back in my life, is because I was shot on my last mission. I tried sabotaging the mission, but the other agent got suspicious and shot me. They took me back to Statesman and Ginger fixed me right, but she still needed to trigger my memory, so she showed me a picture of my wife, God bless her soul, and nothing happened" he licked his lips and stared into your eyes "so Ginger decided to show me a picture of you and Wyatt, and that was when everything came back all at once. Us, our relationship, our life here on the ranch. I was able to relive my memories once more, and when I got back to my senses, Champ forced me into therapy, and you know what the therapist concluded?" Your jaw dropped the moment you saw Jack had tears in his eyes, you had never seen him show that kind of emotion, he was really good at controlling his feelings and he didn't show that kind of vulnerability in front of anyone. You realized he'd asked you a question and as you swallowed hard, you shook your head, answering him. 

"The therapist said I replaced one grief with another; I finally let my first wife and son rest in peace and I was grieving the loss of you and Wyatt, because I couldn't handle the guilt of making you two go away, but he reminded me you two were very much alive and I didn't want to waste any more time, I just knew I wanted my family back, and that's why I beg you for a second chance, sugar"

_____

A/N: besties, I hope you have liked this chapter and let me know your thoughts, does this cowboy deserve a second chance?

[cowboydisaster]

Allo, Love! This is a prompt for your Christmas countdown. I’m thinking a snowball fight is needed. It can involve the whole gang at some point or just reader and Arthur. Maybe Arthur is grumpy cat and reader pelts him with a snowball and then another one, testing his patience until they end up wrestling in the snow. Then they end up getting a cold and are sick for Christmas. Hosea has to look after them both as they sit miserably by the fire.

Just a thought, no pressure.

🎄❤️

* ˚ ✦ Snowfall * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 1k a/n: sorry that this was late, i was so tired after work last night lol. Thank you for the lovely prompt, it is so cute!!

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: SIX days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

“You see any movement?” Arthur asks, eyes flush against a pair of binoculars, scouting the white hills below for some game to bring back to camp. He's intensely focused, in predator mode as his eyes stalk over the valley in search of prey. He continues following the planes of the hills, seeing only small game. It’s been a tough winter, but you seem to be out of the thick of it by now. 

It's a cold day. The ground is covered with a heavy layer of snow, and thick, ornate snowflakes trickle down from the overcast sky, dusting everything in white. The snow makes it easier to spot any tracks, as long as fresh snow doesn't fall on top of them. 

“Darlin’?” Arthur asks when you don't respond, eyes never leaving the hills. He sighs, a bit annoyed. You've been very little help on this trip.

His eyebrows furrow, and the binoculars are brought down from his eyes as he begins to turn toward where you were standing just moments ago. 

“Where'd you-” 

Cold, soft snow pelts him directly in the face, splattering across his nose and eyes. Arthur jerks back with shock, wiping the snow away with his arm, as a harmony of giggles surrounds him. 

His eyes meet yours, polar opposite expressions staring back at each other. You're smiling ear to ear, giggling at Arthur's deep set scowl. He grunts and sighs grumpily as he wipes the snow away from his face. The white mare at your side tosses her head in amusement, whinnying lightly as if she’s mocking him with you.

“Really?” Arthur grunts, shaking his head, grumbling, “A goddamn snowball? I'm tryin’ to hunt. Clear as the damn day that you ain't interested in helpin’ out, so if you could kindly knock the horseplay off, I'd appreciate it.” 

Arthur shakes his head, turning back around, quietly mumbling, “Jesus.” to himself at your behavior. He resumes the search, locating the spot down below where he had planted bait. 

Another snowball pelts Arthur, this time right in the back of the head. 

“For chrissakes, quit that, would ya?” Arthur tries to maintain his authority, because he knows that as soon as he cracks a smile, this hunting trip is over. But he can't help it as his frown breaks into a small huff of air, a little laugh escaping from his lips. 

You catch the little act, smirking. He's right where you want him now. Before he can even react, you grab another snowball from your hidden stash and whip it at him, hitting him square in the chest. 

Arthur looks down at the white circle of snow on his chest, painting your perfect shot. 

“Alright, that's it.” Arthur says matter of factly, wiping his hands together before marching towards you through the snow. You laugh, grabbing your pile of snowballs. You're not quick enough to defend yourself, screaming out as he scoops up a pile of snow, balling it up and throwing it right at you. The snowball explodes into flakes of ice upon contact with your arm. 

“Arthur!” You laugh, eyes going wide as you see him coming towards you.

As quick as you can, you throw a snowball, but he dodges it quickly. You gasp as he runs forward and pulls you towards the ground with him. The impact is soft of course, blankets of snow to protect you from the harsh ground. Your laughs ring out, and two curious noses sniff the ground above you, making sure you're okay. Jasper and Sugar conclude that everything is alright and then they trot off together, stopping to bump noses and groom each other.

“Reckon they’re sweeter on each other than even us.” You smirk, your eyes following the horses until they trail back to Arthur’s. His blue eyes bore into your own, overflowing with adoration. 

Arthur doesn’t reply as he pins your hands above your head. His cold nose lines against yours, lips just centimeters from your own. 

“Quit. hittin. me. with. snowballs.” Arthur enunciates every word, beautiful blue eyes staring right into yours, waiting for your promise. You hum, thinking it over, but then your eyes flicker down to his lips, mind becoming aware of the position he has you in. 

“Hmm.” You squint, leaning up, brushing your lips against his, “Sorry, Mr. Morgan. Afraid I can't do that. It's too funny.” You smile. He sighs.

“You're a heap of trouble, y'know that?” Arthur sighs. 

“I like to keep you on your toes.” You whisper, finally bridging the gap between you two. His hands tighten around your wrists, lips pressing together slowly until you deepen the kiss. Arthur hums against your lips, and you wrap your legs around his waist. 

The snow seeps into your coat, but you care none. Snowflakes fall upon you both, dusting you in beautiful sparkling white. 

– – –

“Children! Goddamn children, gettin’ yourselves sick as you did.” Hosea ushers you and Arthur towards the fire, sighing loudly as he wraps you in a blanket and hands you steaming cups of coffee. 

You had started a cough on Christmas Eve, and Arthur had followed shortly after. Now, on Christmas day, Hosea has been assigned the task of taking care of you pair of fools.

“Thanks Hosea.” You say sheepishly, voice hoarse and cheeks pink. 

“Won’t happen again.” Arthur grumbles, eyes cast down. 

You and Arthur share a knowing glance.

“Soon as I’m back in commission, it’s on.” You whisper to Arthur, scooping up a little ball of snow from the log you sit on, balling it in your frozen hands. 

“Dear girl, I heard that!” Hosea calls from across the fire where he crushes herbs for you both. 

Arthur places his hand on your thigh, pulling you closer to him, wrapping you tighter in your blanket. Sitting next to Arthur warms you right up, especially as he pulls you into his side, arms wrapped around you. 

“I reckon all we can do now is get better, sweetheart.” Arthur murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. 

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

[y3ager]

RODEO NIGHT

— a weekend visit back home leads you to the annual blueforest rodeo, where a certain man in red is competing.

jean k. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, cowboy au, fluff.

YOUR LEMONADE JOSTLES in the translucent plastic cup, crushed ice knocking against itself and fresh lemons releasing more of their sour juice as you roll your wrist in a lazy circle. your glossed lips wrap around the bright red tip of the straw, sucking absentmindedly as your dark eyes scan the rodeo arena.

rodeo-goers like yourself file into the stands, boots and tennis shoes clanking against the metal as they seat themselves after purchasing their concessions of cheesy nachos and sour green pickles, excited chatter filling the air around you.

itching to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big city, you decided to escape to your hometown of blueforest, a quaint and quiet town tucked off in the corner of the state. you left soon after graduating high school, a full ride paying you to attend the big university of your dreams. you didn’t really appreciate blueforest’s peacefulness then, but wiser and older you love its predictability, its peacefulness.

the mounted speakers crackle as the host begins to speak, his drawl thick and country as ever. “ladies and gentlemen that was our bull ridin’ event. please give those boys a hand! they put on quite a show and gave our judges a tough time!”

the crowd erupted in cheers and hoots, shoes stomping against the stands. it really was a good show, with the win being determined by mere fractions of seconds.

“with that let’s move on to the next category, yeah?” the announcer’s voice called over the sound system, his voice reverberating all around the ring. “up next we got seven talented boys competing in our tie ropin’ game. a little calf is gonna run out into this ring, and these boys gotta catch ‘im and tie ‘im up. his horse gotta be well trained too, because he better come to a stop once that calf is caught and he better not drag the poor thing along when he’s all tied up! now, let’s give it up for ‘em!”

the crowd cheered in excitement again, the audience giddy for arguably the most popular event in the blueforest rodeo. from your seat in the stands, you could see the men lining up on their horses. their shiny, healthy coats gleamed and glistened in the slowly setting sun. anyone with sense could tell that these were prized beasts, they were huge with healthy fat. they snuffed and nickered quietly as they rode in, their tails swishing as them and their rides waited patiently for their turn.

one particularly gorgeous mare stood close to wear you sat. fitted with some expensive looking tackle, her coat was a black so stunning you could almost see your reflection in it. your eyes roved over her appreciatively, recalling the horses your grandfather used to care for when you were a little girl living in this town. on her behind, J. K. was imprinted into her otherwise blemish free flesh. your eyes finally trailed over to the horse’s tall rider, where his golden eyes stared back into your own.

“oh, i’m so sorry for staring.” you gently raise your hands in surrender, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish as you took in the rider. he was tall, probably a bit over six foot. his light brown was long, a mullet that tickled the back of his neck. “your girl was just so pretty.” the light of the sun catching your glossed up lips as they break into a polite smile. “she’ll do you right.”

the rider smiled back at you, his light eyes flicking to your lips before quickly snapping back up to your brown eyes. “means a lot, hun,” his deep voice rumbled out, his position on his mare shifting a little to get comfortable. “she not quite pretty as you are, though.”

you laugh, your head tilting to side slightly as you study the man before you. “aw, you tell all the girls in the stand that, huh?”

“no, never, ma’am,” he affirms earnestly, his eyes widened slightly as he placed a hand over his heart. you chuckle again at his antics, and his smile widens. “i only say a girl’s pretty if she really is. and you’re downright stunning.”

“mmhmm, i bet.” you feel like some lovesick teenager, giggling and making goo-goo eyes at this man, and right before he’s up to compete, no less! out of the corner of your eye, you see the horses in front of jean marching forward, their thick tails flicking and twitching. “ah, you’re up soon. i won’t distract you any more.”

“ah, no, you’re doin nothin of the sort, ma’am.” the rider shakes his head, his horse pawing lightly at the ground as if she’s eager to start too. his smile shifts into more of a self assured grin, as he straightens up in his saddle. “matter fact i just might do a little better now that i know you got your eyes on me. can’t come off as a fool now, can i?”

the speakers overhead crackle again as you watched as the rider you were flirting unabashedly stepped up the box. “and now for our final contestant for the tie-down, a mr. jean kirschtein! don’t let his pretty-boy looks fool you, this is a born and bred cowboy right here! time to beat, ladies and gentlemen, is 9.3 seconds. can he do it?”

the crowd erupted again cheers and applause, and you find yourself sitting up straighter in your seat to get a really good look at jean and his performance. 9.3 seconds was a pretty tough time to beat.

down in the box, jean shifted anxiously in his leather brown saddle. pre-performance jitters. he was confident enough in his abilities, but knowing that that pretty girl in the stands had her eyes on him made his heart throb in his chest under his dark red shirt. bijou, the black beauty underneath him, pawed at the dirt again, her head bobbing up and down in excitement and making her mane tickle the bright white diamond adorning the front of her head.

“easy there, bijou,” jean hummed, adjusting his grasp on his loop, the rope scratching his calloused hands. “we’re almost up. gon’ give that doll up there a good show, eh?” reaching down, he procured his pigging string and clenched it tight between his teeth. he had to focus. any minute now, that calf would burst from that chute.

once the calf reached had his head start and the barrier was dropped, jean flicked his heel against bijou’s side, the mare shooting out like a hot bullet, kicking up dirt and dust alike in her wake. jean’s rope was like an extension of his arm, easily encircling the calf’s neck. as trained, bijou skidded to a stop immediately, her hooves digging in the brown earth.

jean moved on instinct, his body moving before his brain. his hands were on that calf almost instantly, picking up the small beast and dropping him back first to the ground. holding his legs still, jean yanked the pigging strip out of his mouth. “easy, kid, easy,” he muttered, tying the string around three of the calf’s legs. the second the knot was tightened around his ankles, he flung his hands high into the sky.

his heart thrummed in his ears as he made his way back to bijou, who waited patiently for her master. she huffed, her breath a cloud that cut through the humid arena air, as jean remounted her with a slight grunt. the next 6 seconds were like agony, ticking along slowly as a bead a sweat ran down his hot neck. the calf shifted slightly on the ground, but didn’t break the rope that held his legs together.

“and that’s time!” the announcer cheered. “the time to beat was 9.3 and that there jean kirschtein did an astonishin’ 8.8! 8.8, why, that’s a blueforest record! ladies and gentlemen, give that man a round of applause!”

the crowd broke out in raucous cheers and applause to congratulate jean’s stellar performance. atop bijou, jean waved, his slightly sweaty face broken in half with a wide grin. “y’hear that, bijou? we did amazin’, little lady.” his hand came down to pat her shoulder affectionately as she began to exit the arena. jean’s eyes scanned the stands for any sight of you, that beautiful brown face in a sea of people. when his eyes met yours, his heart thrummed in his chest again and his breath caught in his throat. he smiled sheepishly, raising his hand in greeting before turning forward, guiding bijou along. ‘god,’ he thought to himself. ‘what a woman.’

the rodeo went on as planned. you enjoyed the rest of the categories, but you couldn’t help but crane your neck for another glimpse of jean kirschtein. the name didn’t sound too familiar, he had to have been someone visiting just for the rodeo. if that was the case, your chances of seeing him again were pretty slim. you were anxious, picking at your nails, and you were embarrassed about it. you and that man exchanged about five sentences, and here you were breaking your neck trying to find him! you groaned quietly to yourself. ‘girl, get it together…’

the summer sun is setting by the time the rodeo finishes, the sky painted in a myriad of dark oranges, reds, and purples. you shuffle behind the rest of the audience as they make their way down the stands and out of the arena, trying to accept the fact that you won’t see that jean kirschtein again, at least not anytime soon.

you’re following the rest of the crowd towards the parking lot, narrowly avoiding horse droppings from messing up your boots or the hems of your flared jeans. people are buying last minute treats from the stands as they excitedly reminisce on their favorite scenes from the rodeo.

unbeknownst to you, jean weaves in and out the thicket of the crowd. his light brown eyes are trained hard on the back of your head as he tries to get close to you. as soon as the rodeo was over and he received his award money, he practically threw bijou’s reins into his buddy marco’s hands and ran off, promising that he’d be right back, he had something really important to do.

as he’s sliding past guests, he wishes that you just turn around, look over your shoulder something. he groans internally. he was so busy ogling you he didn’t think to catch your name before he rode up to the box. he clears his throat, his hand held out slightly ahead of him. “ma’am,” he calls softly. ‘cuse me, ma’am!”

you’re not sure what, but the sound of someone calling out behind you makes you turn your head to peek over your shoulder. your eyes widen slightly as you watch jean pace up towards you. “oh, it’s you!” you stop your determined stride, allowing jean to finally catch up. his red shirt has the first three buttons undone, and your eyes can’t help but rove downwards towards his tanned, exposed chest before snapping back up to his face. “you were amazing out there.”

jean laughs breathlessly, giddy to be in your presence again. the crowd mingling around her fades into the background. right now, with the sun setting and the summer breeze gently stirring the around him, it’s only you two in this moment. his grin is slightly crooked as he sticks out his hand towards you. “only because i had my good luck charm out there cheerin’ me on. i’m jean.”

“…,” you greet back, sliding your soft hand into his. his large, calloused fingers easily envelope yours, shaking it firmly but politely. his grip lingers for a bit, sending sparks through your body before he finally pulls away. your lips break away into another grin, one that sends butterflies careening in jean’s stomach. “a pleasure to meet you, sir.” the lilt of your voice, the accent decorating each of your words, its music to jean’s ears.

“pleasure’s all mine, ….” jean slides his slightly sweaty hands in his jean pockets, his thumbs sticking out and rubbing against the stitching. “i hope i’m not bein’ too forward when i say i’d love to take you out while i’m still here in blueforest.” he pulls one hand out and dusts away a dirt spot on his jeans, smiling nervously. “i clean up rather nice, i assure you.”

you laugh again, clear and melodic as a bell. “well,” you muse, tilting your head to the side as if you’re giving it some serious thought. “i am in town for a while. i think i’d enjoy getting to know you more, mr. kirschtein.” you slide your handbag off your shoulder, rooting around for your phone. you quickly procure it, opening it up to your contacts for jean to add himself in. “i think we’d have a grand time.”

jean bristles with excitement, his fingers a blur as he types in his number. “oh, i’ll make sure of it, .... don’t you worry.”

when he’s done you slide your phone back into your bag. “i don’t wanna keep you.” turning on the heel of your brown boots, you wave back at jean, the gold rings adorning your manicured fingers twinkling against each other teasingly. “til then, jean.” you don’t want to come across as too giddy just yet, but deep inside you’re practically bouncing with excitement. a date with him? you might not even be able to sleep later that night.

jean tips his head at you, his own hand raising in farewell. “til then, ….” aw man, just wait til marco heard about this!

*quick lil ting inspired by my visit to the rodeo. if i got anything wrong i apologize. 😖 hope y’all enjoy!

[your-mommy-ems]

Hiii im Emma the amount of fandoms I'm in is concerning. The amount of books i'm writing at once is also concerning. Point is you should just be concerned, enjoy your stay at my blog - here is a piece of cake 🍰

-> Im Emma/Ems or whatever nickname u want to give me I love giving people nicknames and petnames. Basic info -> She/her, minor, capricorn, intj, australian, ferrari girl, i will defend my babies warnette and evajacks until i die, a believer in sarcasm, i post about my writing sometimes, sometimes - cause im too lazy to write, im an ambivert and a joey lynch and damon torrance defender

Books -> [series] The inheritance games, acotar, shatter me, the folk of the air, pjo [im new to the fandom] the prison healer, caraval, ouabh, dance of theives, divine rivals, boys of tommen, the lunar chronicles, the red queen, the naturals, six of crows, devils night, boys of tommen [standalone] Better than the movies, the do over, betting on you (basically anything by lynn painter), the cheat sheet, powerless, the summer of broken rules and A LOT more. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 Music -> taylor swift, gracie abrams, [recently getting into] maisie peters, tate mcrea, sadie jean, a little of lana del rey, chase atlantic, artic monkeys, guns and roses, conan gray. my music is all over the place lmao. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 Movies/tv shows -> friends, b99, babysitters club, alexa and katie, fuller house, now you see me 1&2, oceans 11,12&13, knives out 1&2, mamma mia, adam project, red notice, enola holmes, and pretty much most chick flicks 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 Other -> rain <3, christmas, baking/cooking, art -> I paint, sketch, and draw, whenever I feel like it. I mostly draw though. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 Moodboards -> I love making moodboards here is the masterlist 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝Writing -> i have a few side blogs but my public writing blog is @the-ballad-of-us and i also have a secret one see if you can find it ;)

Misc -> my dream life is to runaway to paris or new york and open up a bookstore/cafe/flower shop. (and to be the rich hot aunt the everyone loves), I want to travel when I'm older! [places] -> London, Paris, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Sweden, Germany, New York, Bahamas, Japan, Korea, and a bunch more!, I spend an unhealthy amount of time on Pinterest and Tumblr, 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 -> If we're moots, we're best friends, no takes backs. -> I over use lmao, lol, <3, :), and 😭 too much. im trying not to come on too strong and be rude lol (right there see? perfect example) -> My Wattpad -> My Pinterest -> I love talking to new people, and asks and dms (only for minors unless i agree to it :)) are always open <3 -> i most likely won't follow you back if you don't have an intro post, but if you want to get to know me just send me an ask :) 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Special people ->@skeelly - kris, @percabeths-blue-cookies - har, @a-beautiful-fool - lou lou, @moonlightt444 - mare bear, @nqds - nadsies, @mqstermindswift - nicky, @lost-in-reveriie - addy, @art-of-fools - mr o'hare, @reminiscentreader - jas, @myster3y - my wifey kiara, @sophiesonlinediary - soph, @deprivedofbraincellsandsleep - zia, @runwiththerain - ives, @doyoujustnotwantto - mihane, @that-multi-fandom-hijabi - nova my world manipulation partner, @hijabi-desi-bookworm - esme, @gergthecat - scout, @baboland - aria, @missedyour21st - fay, @daydream-of-a-wallflower - kat + all my other moots that i didn't tag but rlly wanted too [if you want to be added or removed just let me know!! <333

𓆝 this is a safe space for everyone!! ↳ Dni - if you're a racist, homophobe, sexist, pedos, ect..

love ya all <3

Emma

[twola]

if you're still open to requests, HH!Arthur forced to endure the classic "only one bed" trope with a petite, bookish F!reader? still an outlaw but much more suited for infiltration than shootouts and analyzing difficult paperwork. maybe spectacles even, go wild with the idea!! love your other works ❤️

Accounting and Other Arts

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

You're not one for gunshots or drunken brawling, as Arthur learns one night in Saint Denis.

Saint Denis reeks. The whole damned city. It either smells of horse shit and rotting garbage or of obnoxiously over-perfumed rich men and women traipsing about thinking that they are above the common folk.

The mare beneath him grunts as the dirt road turns to cobblestone, a high whinny as her hooves clack on the road. Arthur clicks his tongue to calm her down. Upon reaching an alleyway to the west of the market, he slides down from the saddle, grabbing his horse’s reins and tying them to a wrought-iron hitching post. He pats her mane gently as he eyes the alleyway. Stepping toward it, he strides past men and women heading to market, finding a quiet, shadowed spot and leaning against the brick wall of the alley.

“You’re late.”

Arthur snorts, pulling a cigarette from his satchel, and strikes a match against the arched brickwork in the alley. Lighting it, he eyes you from under the rim of his black hat.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you glare from the golden rims of your spectacles at him. Clad in a dark velvet vest over a maroon blouse, your matching skirt swishes as you stalk angrily in his direction.

“My apologies, ma’am.”

You scowl as you approach, looking up the alley past where Arthur leans against the wall.

“Y’get what you need?” He rumbles as he takes the cigarette from his lips, letting a plume of smoke float into the air.

You nod, pulling off your spectacles and tucking them into the breast pocket of your vest. “Tomorrow morning - the money’s going to be moved from the poker room back to one of Bronte’s safehouses. Be there a half hour before a half hour before six. Only supposed to be two men there.”

Arthur takes the cigarette from his lips and blows smoke to the side. “How much is the take?”

“If my calculations are correct, twenty-three hundred dollars.” You reply, straightening your skirts as you lean back against the brick wall in the alleyway. 

Arthur drops the cigarette and grinds it under his boot.

A strand of hair escapes from your tightly pulled bun, and you huff as you tuck it behind your ear. You’ve been told the hairstyle makes you look severe, you’d take it. In this world of guns and robbery and stealing you live in, you feel the need to do anything to make yourself look serious. 

Guns weren’t your weapons. Numbers were. You ran scams and cheated men out of money. You assisted Strauss in his loansharking. 

“Where y’been stayin' here in town?” Arthur asks, his hands gravitating to his gun belt.

“Shitty little place off the docks. Not much, but at least we can rest there until you have to go out in the morning.”

He nods, holding out his arm down the alley, “Lead the way.”

-

A hot, heavy, night has fallen in South Lemoyne - stifling in its haziness and the heaviness in the air. You’ve stripped down to a chemise and your bloomers as you climb into the old bed, the darkness outside staved off by a solitary oil lamp on the bed. 

Arthur’s boots scuff the dingy floor of the room you’ve been renting, the sound of him dragging the rickety old chair next to the small fireplace grates in your ears as you try to get comfortable in the lumpy bed.

Instead, you reach for the book that you’ve been reading from the bedside table, cracking it open as Arthur mercifully quiets down, pulling his hat from his head and placing it on the mantle as he sits down.

“Whatchu' readin’?” Arthur asks from across the room, pulling his boots off and tossing them near the door.

You look up at him over the rims of your spectacles, “I’m sure nothing you’d be interested in.”

He snorts, pulling his hat off his head and placing it on the table next to the fireplace.

“The Wealth of Nations.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raise, “That certainly ain’t one of Mary Beth’s pillow books.”

You shut the book and frown. “No. It ain’t.”

Arthur stares into the unused fireplace, rolling his shoulders.

“Get into the bed, Arthur. You’re the one who's gotta get up in the morning.” You eye him over those gold rims again, scolding in your tone.

“Ain’t terribly proper,” Arthur mutters under his breath.

“We’re both adults. And it ain’t like I take up much room. Just shut up and lay down.” You pull the spectacles off of the bridge of your nose and fold them up, leaning over to place them on the bedside table.

You unwind the tight bun you have your hair pulled into - your tresses falling in curls down your back, and completely miss the dumbfounded look he gives. As you shake out your hair, you shake out the severe look about you, your spectacles gone for the night.

It’s then, under the dim oil lamps of the saloon’s room, that he discovers that you’re beautiful. 

The moment passes quickly as you begin to look up at him, and his eyes dart away as not to be caught staring.

“Get in bed.” You command, looking at him for a second longer before turning over in bed and reaching for the lamp. You don't wait for him to make up his mind, plunging the room into darkness when you turn off the light.

After what seems like an eternity, the mattress sinks down on the other side of the bed.

-

You awaken far before dawn, a shout from outside jolting you from your sleep. Thinking it’s a fluke, you close your eyes again only for them to snap open as shouting continues again.

A crash fully awakens you, and you begin to lean up on your elbow, looking toward the window a few steps away. A large hand finds purchase on your belly as your entire frame is pulled backward in the bed. 

“Shh,” Arthur whispers, curling himself over you as he listens to the shouting outside. Glass breaks. Threats made. The sounds of a fight echo through the street, but now all you can think about is the fact that you’re tucked into Arthur’s body as he listens to the fight, ready to jump up and grab his revolver at a moment's notice.

Glass crashes again against the brick wall of the building you’re in, not terribly far from your window, and you turn inward from the noise. You may be a criminal, a fraudster, but you certainly aren’t one for violence. You don’t shoot and you don’t kill.

“ ‘S okay. I’ve got you.” Arthur mumbles, leaning over you to listen more intently to the scuffle outside. You bury yourself into his embrace, your face tucked into his neck as his hand pats your hair gently, ready to whip around and grab his revolver from the table if needed.

The fight in the alleyway dies down, fortunately, and as the agitated voices fade into the night, Arthur gently unwinds his arm from across your shoulders, his hand finding its way to settle atop your hip. Your fingers clutch at the worn fabric of his union suit atop his broad chest.

“Jus’ a drunken fight.” He whispers, patting your hip in a calming manner.

The men outside are the farthest thing from your mind at the moment. No, Arthur’s hand upon your hip and yours against his chest - that's all you think about. The rapid beating of your heart is all you can hear. This isn’t rational. It isn’t logical. But deep in your core, you burn. You’re driven by something completely different, animalistic, emotional, needy.

“Y’oka-” Arthur murmurs before you shove your mouth against his. It's only half a heartbeat before he’s kissing you back.

You throw your leg over his hip, and he takes a large hand full of your rear, pulling your hips against his. You are unable to hold back the moan from your throat as you feel his cock thickening against your lower belly.

For several moments, your bodies tessellate against each other until he yanks the hem of your chemise up to your belly.

“Christ,” he groans, and it’s just another moment before he rolls you underneath him.

“Y’ever done this?” He pants as he peels your bloomers down your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor before his hand trails up between your thighs.

“No… but I have an idea-ah-!” Your sentence is cut off when you uncontrollably moan, a thick finger having immediately parted your folds and pressed against you.

Well, this feeling wasn’t something you had read about. You mewl into Arthur’s shoulder as his pointer finger moves back and forth between the seam of your body, pausing to circle the hooded nub that makes your toes curl.

Arthur sucks gently at your earlobe, his panting growing louder as his finger travels along your body, pausing for a moment once he’s reached the rim of your cunt, weeping slick as you want to die from the stimulation.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, and he growls in your ear as he quickly draws back and sits up on his knees, unbuttoning his union suit with the ferocity of a caged beast. You’re barely able to catch your breath before watching him tear his arms out of the sleeves, bunching the fabric at his waist, and pushing it down, baring himself completely.

Certainly, sketches in anatomy books had nothing on the real thing. Sketches weren’t hewn from decades of labor and violence. Sketches weren't tapered waists and the outline of solid muscles under pale, scarred skin that told stories of robberies past. And sketches assuredly were not so well endowed.

He’s back on you in an instant before you can even react - slotting himself between your legs as his mouth attacks your neck, sure to leave a mark that will show in the morning.

Arthur’s large hand moves to once more cup your core, and your breath hitches.

He presses himself against your thigh and you shudder as you feel how hard he is, how big is - Christ, how the hell was that supposed to fit inside you?

His finger pushes inside and your mind goes blank. You cry out wantonly as Arthur’s finger curls within your core, and he quickly begins to pump within you. Your back arches uncontrollably as he adds a second finger, and thrusts his hips against your body.

“Fuck, fuck. Y’sure you want this?” Arthur pants against your ear, unable to stop his hips from rutting against you. His cock settles in the crease of your thigh and god, he’s so close to where you need him.

Christ, maybe you should have taken Mary Beth up on one of her dirty romance novels.

“Y-yes, Arthur please-”

He presses inside you and there aren’t words for the feeling. No vocabulary to adequately describe the stretch, the filling, the connection one has when that last bridge is crossed. Though sex is simply an action, a physical coming together of body parts - the emotions that want to burst forth from your chest - you want to envelop him the same way he envelops you.

“Y’okay there? C’n I move?” He whispers into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple.

Are you okay, are you okay? All you can respond back with is a needy gasp as you turn your head to the side to find his mouth, desperately shoving your tongue inside as if to mimic the fact that he’s buried inside of you.

As your tongue delves into his mouth, you wish the thoughts flying through your head could possibly come out, but with him between your legs, his weight pressing you down into the mattress, his flesh parting you deep, all you can do is moan.

So much more than okay. How do people stand being apart? How can they not bury themselves in each other all day, every day? I want… oh god, Arthur, please, please move.

Somehow, he understands. His elbows brace himself on either side of your head as his hips retract, in a glorious swell of movement, he presses back in.

You whine needily into the column of his throat as he grunts, finding a rhythm as your legs wrap around his waist. Arthur grinds your hips into the bed, your small frame engulfed by his large one, and each thrust seems to take you further and further away. Gasping, tensing, shuddering. 

A desperate noise leaves your throat, and if you weren't so preoccupied with how the tip of his cock keeps hitting a spot inside you that makes you want to scream, you’d be mortified.

“Come for me.” He orders, voice sex-hoarse and demanding, and your body immediately complies. 

Every muscle, every tendon, and fiber of your body clenches at once, and your cry is loud and needy into his shoulder. Tears burst forth from your eyes. He groans into your hair in response, his rhythm faltering, and it’s only a moment more before he wrenches himself from you, his cock smacking against your belly as he jets his hot spend across your pale skin and hiked up chemise.

Arthur pants, nearly out of breath, for a moment, before leaning his forehead against yours and taking your lips in a slow, languorous kiss.

Your fingers card through his hair and one of his hands finds its way to your face, palm warm against your cheek before he finally pulls back.

Arthur immediately frowns when he sees the tracks of drying tears. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling, “When can we do that again?”

He snorts in amusement, rolling off of you and onto his side, “Let me go get our money,” he kisses your forehead, “Then I’ll get us another day here.”

“Sounds amenable.”

“You and them fancy words.”

Your smartass retort is drowned out by his kiss.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

It's been six months since Pete and Vegas started living together, and while many things are amazing ( i.e. the many and mutual orgasms)  sometimes Vegas is really…off…

Yes, he is still dealing with the effects of being shot and helping Porsche run the minor family; because Porsche still doesnt know what the fuck he is doing most of the time, but there's something else going on  

Something more.

Something deeper than just the trauma of being shot, or losing his father.

He sees it sometimes when they are having sex, or when it's late at night and Vegas gets quiet and has a far away look on his face. He feels it sometimes when the younger man flinches away from his soft touches, when he doesn't exactly apologize, but says he's just distracted and tired. 

He hears it when Vegas is sleeping and cries out, eyes shifting quickly behind closed lids, quiet moans and protests leaving his lips as his body trembles next to Pete in their shared bed. 

Pete tries to ask him about the nightmares  about the looks, about the times he feels like he's disappearing, but is met with resistance and repeated I’m fine's. 

It doesn't matter, though. 

Vegas doesn't have to admit anything. 

Pete starts piecing things together little by little on his own.  

***

They don't talk about Khun Gun. 

But he’s with them all the same. 

In those first fragile weeks after, when his thoughts and feelings were a festering open wound as raw and real as the ones maring his chest, Vegas would scream, and sometimes he would cry.

Never in front of Macau. 

Never in front of the doctor or nurses. 

Never in front of anyone but Pete. 

Because Pete had stayed. And he knows that means something to Vegas. 

He knows because of the way Vegas holds him and squeezes his hand in the dark hospital room and lets out a bitter angry sound before hissing. “I'm glad he's dead. I fucking hate him.” 

Pete hums in agreement. He's glad the bastard is dead too.  

“I hate what he did…what he made me into, made me do….but a part of me still ….it still loves him….wants to have made him proud.  Fucking ridiculous. I'm so fucking pathetic.” 

The words are heavy, weighted in a strange way that Pete can't quite place. 

He tries to comfort him anyway. “You're not pathetic. He was your father, Vegas. It makes sense that a piece of you will always be a little boy that loves him and hates that he never gave you validation.”

Vegas gives him an unreadable look before muttering, “If you say so.” 

It isn't exactly him accepting Pete’s words, but he takes it as a win. 

Vegas has always liked to play rough. It's one of the things Pete fucking loves about him. He knows just how to get Pete to that distance floaty place where Pete the bodyguard nee-boyfriend ends and Pete the pet begins. He knows just how much and where to hurt him. Vegas loves to tie him up, belt him, flog him, use all the right toys and clamps to make Pete squirm. To make him scream. 

But there is always one thing that he doesn't do that always surprises him. Even that first time, when he was still technically Vegas’ prisoner, even now when they're role-playing and Pete asks to be fucked raw and without any prep….

Vegas's idea of no prep is obviously different than Pete's. 

Because no matter how or what they are doing, Vegas always makes sure he's wet. If not with lube, with copious amounts of spit. Even now, when Pete is practically begging him to shove his fingers inside of him dry, it's like he physically can't do it. He's already shoving his fingers into Pete's mouth to make sure they're coated. A quick don't want you to tear, baby whispered in his ear. 

Pete grunts in disappointment, he wants it to hurt dammit, but he knows this is not something he wants to fight right now when he's so close to having a mind blowing orgasm. 

Instead, he just files his observation away to look closer at it another day. 

***

When Vegas was in the hospital they'd had a lot of time to talk, and while Vegas refused to discuss certain topics in length, (his father's death) he was more than willing to answer Pete's questions. Especially those regarding Porsche. 

It wasn't a…fun…conversation, but since Pete was aware that Vegas was behind his best friend being drugged, he felt like he needed to know how far Vegas had been willing to take it. He'd needed to know if he'd planned to assault him. 

Vegas hadn't shied away from the question. He'd held eye contact and insisted that it had never been his intention to sleep with Porsche. He'd only wanted to leave a few marks to make Kinn think someone had. 

His face had gone a bit tight, his mouth a bit pinched, when he'd added that he didn't Like having unwilling partners and that he had even told Porsche that when he'd left the hickey on his neck. (Porsche  later confirms that he remembered  muffled words being muttered in his ear) 

Pete believes him. 

Mostly because of their own fucked up beginnings. 

Because despite the neck licking, and the wandering hand brushing close to his cock, Vegas hadn't actually done anything explicitly sexual to Pete when he'd caught him. 

It was simply torture, and it had been expected. Sure, It had turned Vegas on, and he'd made a couple lewd remarks, but he hadn't forced himself on Pete. It wasn't until Pete himself kissed him in the safehouse that it became purely sexual. 

And now when they play, when they do scenes, they have safewords and check ins and Vegas always makes sure Pete is good and that he's not too far gone or in too much pain. He gets off on hurting Pete, but he also likes taking care of him afterwards. He's strangely attentive and somewhat tender. 

So he is fairly confident that while Vegas is a sadistic, manipulative asshole most of the time, he actually cares about the consent of his sexual partners. 

Which should be the norm, if you asked Pete  but he knows it isn't. Especially in their line of work. Even Khun Kinn had….

Well….that's beside the point. 

The point is that this is another piece of the puzzle that makes up Vegas and his past that Pete is trying to put together. 

***

Vegas doesn't bottom….

Or he doesn't usually bottom. 

And that's fine with Pete. He is more than happy to be the one getting his back blown out. Prostate orgasms are great, thank you very much. 

But Pete had made a post coital comment about how sexy Vegas's body was and how hot it would be to watch him riding Pete’s cock, and Vegas had said he wouldn't be opposed to that as long as he was on top. 

So they tried it. 

And fuck. Pete had been right.

It was the hottest thing he's ever seen. 

But when he'd moved, lifting Vegas up to flip them over and pin him to the bed, his boyfriend had gone completely rigid and dislodged himself from Pete, moving to the other side of the room  with a deep frown and a quiet I told you, l need to be on top. 

Pete had apologized profusely and suggested that Vegas just tie him up so he wouldn't get any stupid ideas like that again. After a few minutes he'd nodded and done just that and they'd ended the night fully satisfied. 

But Pete couldn't forget the look of fear on his face when he'd flipped them. 

There was a reason why Vegas didn't bottom. 

Why he wanted consent. 

Why he wanted at least a little prep.

Why he didn't want his partners to tear.   

It reminds him...

There had been rumors at the Main family compound….that the Minor family heir sometimes sweetened arms deals with his charm….with his body. 

Pete had scoffed at them in the past. Just because Khun Vegas liked having sex and blatantly collected Kinns throwaways like trading cards, didn't mean he was sleeping with the family's business partners for better deals. 

But now? Pete is starting to believe that maybe there is some truth to those rumors.

[queeranotkira]

I don’t think of Near as a brony, nor do I believe he would really be an *active participant* or contributor to any fandom overall, simply quietly consuming the content and keeping any ideas he had limited to the confines of his head. But I do believe it’s plausible that he would have at least jerked off to one My Little Pony character on occasion.

Going from his shared VA with Spike you’d think his choice would be Rarity, but Spike is an ISFP and doesn’t remotely resemble Near personality-wise. So if he had to choose a member of the mane six to waifu, or virtually any other MLP character, who would it be, and what would be your reasoning for his choice? No character is off-limits.

Same goes for Mello. If Mello *had* to choose a pony to breed, which would it be? Unrelated, and not to get too off-topic, but sometimes Sunset Shimmer gives off reformed breedable female Mello vibes.

I think Mello would fuck Rainbow Dash, but it would be a one night stand. Maybe also Applejack? Maybe Twilight, but specifically Sci-Twi, as she has a good dynamic with healthy ENTJ Shimmer.

I feel like Matt would simply fuck any of the mares he could and try to maximize experiencing all of the pony cunny at his disposal because he’d view it as a once-in-lifetime opportunity to enjoy interspecies snatch without it being unethical. He would probably be most drawn toward Rainbow Dash or Scootaloo, but I could see Applejack warming up to him.

Discuss, I want to picture each of the Wammy’s Boys with their own compatible pony waifu, and one’s pony preference speaks volumes about a male

[robobirdie]

Story Update

Added some more to the Clan of the Lost story. Plus I did an update to the Parrot-Cruncher design:

A few of the arts for this section:

Here's some snippets from the added section:

“The entrance we are looking for is located higher up on the southern peak. We should be heading up in elevation in that direction,” Pixal announced as they entered the pass. It took them a brief moment as they went through the pass before they found a trail that looked to head up where they needed to go, it was likely a game trail so would be a decently smooth ride compared to just riding through the wilderness. They spent all day traversing up the mountain stopping anytime they came across a crevice, cave or alcove in ledges or cliffs along the path to see if it led to this valley they were looking for. None amounted to anything useful; just minor marks in the landscape. One had a cave bear sleeping in it that they accidentally disturbed when entering the cave luckily the bear didn’t want to leave the warmth and safety of its cave so did no more than chase them out. In one cave with a somewhat narrow entrance however they were disturbed to find the remains of an expedition of ten hikers with three horses that had perished in a shallow cave in a cliff side. They did a quick investigation of the group which were just skeletons now with their weathered attire still draped over their bones.

There were four girls and six boys with two mares and a stallion of a breed of a short and stocky breed of horse indicating it was built more for cargo carrying and not for being ridden on. Given some scraps of shaggy fur by the horse skeletons the breed probably was also one adapted to a harsh northern climate and given the hair length the animals had probably perished during the colder months meaning the cold was likely a culprit to the demise of the horses and humans whose what was left of the attire did look to be clothes built for warmth further indicating they had likely perished during a colder time of the year. There was evidence the group had built a fire in the center of the cave however it looked like they had run out of wood and burned some of their supplies before ultimately leading to the fire dying out as they had nothing left which had left them in the cold.

“You think this could be work of those Ice demons!?” Jay wondered. The others were not believing that.

“It would appear from what we can tell this group took shelter in here probably due to bad weather and likely died of hypothermia as they were ill prepared for the conditions possibly even becoming trapped from snowfall blocking the entrance they had come in from trapping them in temperatures too cold for them to handle. Given the designs of the technologies present I would have to assume they have been here for at least ten years at most fifteen,” Pixal acknowledged as they inspected the remains. They found amongst the remains journals, a sketchpad and some old camcorders and digital cameras. Cole noted inspecting a wallet he found on the one body, “if their states didn’t tell you that this person’s drivers licence sure could. It was dated for renewal twelve years ago.”

“They are still carrying identifications. That is good. We should collect them so we can identify to authorities when we get back who we found so they can notify the right individuals to inform them of these individuals fates and bring closure to their loved ones. I and Pixal will record the co-ordinates so Sherpa’s and authorities can collect the remains for proper disposal by the families in their cultural customs,” Zane expressed. While the others felt the way Zane termed that was a little cold and harsh they understood what he was meaning.

“The batteries will definitely be dead on these but they may still hold memory of what they recorded,” Jay commented inspecting a camcorder. Lloyd stated, “we can see what they have on them later. It’s getting late and we should probably set up a camp site for the night.” They all had to agree with that. This site was creepy and it was getting close to sun down. Given the cold of the area and the eeriness of this find they felt it was probably in their best interest to have a fire and get their tent up before the sun went down. They collected the cameras, journals, sketchpad and any forms of identifications they could find and put them with their supplies before heading off to find a place for the night. They put some distance between that cave and where they set up camp. They chose a fairly large and flat space in a bit of a valley on the mountain. The valley was treed offering some protection from winds which seemed to be picking up a little as night fell.

Nya, Jay, Pixal and Zane set up their large tent getting some of their supplies like lanterns, sleeping bags and other bedding into the tent while Cole chopped down a dead tree on the edge of their site to make some firewood and start a fire. Kai and Lloyd headed out into the surrounding woods to collect more wood and debris for the fire. As soon as they had wood to burn they got a fire started outside the tent. Once things were set up they began to settle for the night. Jay and Nya sat next to each by the campfire working on seeing what had been on those cameras they had found. The memory cards were still intact but they weren’t too sure if they still held anything. Due to the cold of the region the laptop they were using was running a bit slow. To offer some protection in case of animals looking for an easy meal Zane and Pixal manoeuvred the groups ATVs to form a loose semi circle wall between their fire and tent entrance and the wilderness.

“Now that we have everything set I’ll get dinner started,” Cole commented as he finished placing some wood in their tent to use later for bed. Jay was quick to ask a little nervous to know the answer, “what is dinner?”

“Beef Jerky in beans,” Cole commented getting the supplies for cooking off their trailer. Jay expressed not too thrilled, “you realise we’re sleeping in a fairly air tight tent and in close quarters right?” Cole responded as he brought the stuff over to the fire to start cooking, “we needed food that could easily be transported during rugged travel which canned food and dried meats is the best for that and one of the healthiest and most nutritious canned foods is beans. If you want to try and find something fresh to make be my guess; I don’t think you’re going to find any berries or game out in the woods here; I can understand why they called it dead mountain. I’ve hardly seen any animals or berry bushes out here.”

“Maybe we can send Zane and Pixal out. I’m betting they could find something. You two could probably track down and take down a deer like a pair of wolves couldn’t you?” Jay commented as Zane and Pixal came to sit by the fire with the rest of them. Upon hearing his comment the two droids were confused Pixal inquiring, “what exactly are you saying? Are you saying we are wolves?”

“No I’m just joking with you. You know with how good your senses are and how superior your speed and agility is to a normal person you’re like wolves compared to us so would probably be just as good as them at finding and catching prey out here,” Jay explained. Zane and Pixal took a moment to think his explanation over. After the moments thought Zane commented, “I think we get it. Would you like us then to go hunt a deer?”

“We’ll just have what we brought,” Jay stated and after a moment’s pause Zane asked a little confused, “so do you want us to find a deer for food or not?”

“No Zane you two don’t have to hunt down anything like wolves for dinner. It’s probably best we don’t venture too far from our site anyway. Speaking of which where’s Kai and Lloyd? Shouldn’t they be back by now?” Jay began to worry.

“They have been gone oddly long,” Nya commented on edge before being distracted by the computer finally picking up the memory card from the digital camera. She expressed, “amazing photos are still on here.”

“Really! What do they show?” Jay asked excited to see. Curious Zane and Pixal moved closer so they could see the computer screen too. As they moved close Jay asked Cole, “wanna see it?”

“Uh no thank you; something about seeing photos from travellers that perished a long time ago while travelling out where we are now that no one probably knows what has become of them or that they’re there is kind of unsettling to me,” Cole expressed as he started cooking. They had to agree there was something very disturbing about these photos but to understand what went on with those travellers they needed to delve into this. There was quite a few photos mainly of scenery, possible landmarks, wildlife and flora with some of the travellers, their horses which they were using to carry much of their gear and a few of the passes memorial. Most of the photos were of the group taking photos of themselves on their journey.

Most of it seemed fairly normal and not very eventful. The people seemed happy and there was no sign of any danger; they looked to be some kind of social group possibly from a collage. There were photos taken in their camps at night and some breaks they took on their travels. All looked happy and unbothered by their travels. It looked like they had set out during the fall. They guessed the group was just backpacking for fun or sightseeing as they couldn’t figure out from the photos what the groups intentions and plans were. As they were going through the pictures Kai and Lloyd finally returned. The two looked a little shaken and kept looking over their shoulders as they entered the site and placed the sticks and branches they had collected by the trailer.

“What’s with you two? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jay commented. The mention of ghost made Cole jump a bit and look around for a moment scared. Kai explained, “it feels creepy out there.”

“Creepy how?” Jay wondered. Lloyd noted he and Kai nervously looking out into the woods, “it felt like we were being watched or followed by something.” Kai expressed, “don’t forget to mention the glowing red eyes in that one tree and the voice.”

“Red eyes?!” Jay worried and Zane explained, “that is likely either an owl or rabbit. Both have eyes that reflect with a red color instead of the typical golden of animals.”

“Are you sure? We’re pretty sure we heard it speak… there that’s the speaking. Did it follow us?!” Lloyd commented before he and Kai became unsettled by a sound coming from the woods. It had most of them startled however Zane and Pixal were calm analyzing what they were hearing.

“That is an owl. A Blanchards Barred Owl to be precise. Large owls native to northern boreal, cold temperate and alpine forests that dine on mammals up to the size of a rabbit along with the occasional reptiles and other birds. Their hooting call is regarded as sounding a bit like a human asking ‘who cooks for you’ and their eyes do reflect with a red colour. You are getting worked up over an owl,” Zane commented confused and un-amused by the others reactions of fear to a harmless sound. The rest of them began to calm down Kai expressing as they did, “not all of us have super senses and brains like an encyclopaedia Zane.”...

Snippet 2:

“This isn’t good,” Jay commented. The next thing they knew all of them were knocked of the arch from behind by something large, thick and solid into the icy river below. They all struggled to stay above the raging water while also looking trying to find a way out of it. Nya and Cole wasted no time to grab and help Kai stay fairly above the water. After a few meters of struggling in the water they managed to come to a large downed tree that had fallen in the river in a mild canyon like section that the river made through a large hill. The log looked to be from a landslide from the cliff top of the one hill above the river.

Some other debris mainly small logs and dead foliage some of it probably from the same landslide had created a minor blockage in the river there. The tree creating the blockage was a massive and thick conifer that had been taller than the canyon was wide. This had led it to getting wedged between the cliff on the one side of the canyon and the debris from the landslide that had put it there. The base and roots were stuck in the debris pile on one side with the trunk angled up with an angle under 45 degrees up where it became wedged on the other cliff side where it had broken its top half which due to an unclean and not full break had remained attached to the other half of the log.

This top half had then fallen to rest angled sharply down into the river downstream of the logs bottom half causing the rivers current to shove it against the other half of the tree getting it stuck. The way the tree had come to lay made it very easy for other logs and debris to get caught on this tree and start collecting against it creating the blockage. They all got caught on the front of this blockage on a log that had been stripped of its bark and held onto it to keep themselves up; a task proving quite hard thanks to the freezing temperature of the water. They had cliffs on either side of them trapping them in the canyon. To get out they’d have to cling to the cliff face and pull themselves back up the river whose current was quite strong.

“What was that?!” Jay exclaimed when they’d come to a stop. Looking back they couldn’t see anything, the Okhotnik and its beast had either disappeared or wasn’t following them. Cole expressed, “whatever it was had to have been big.”

“I think something brushed against my leg!” Nya expressed before something like a snake wrapped up out of the water around her holding her up out of the water a bit and the top of a massive amphibian creature jumped up onto the top of the log looking down at them all. It had a large wide head with large almost tusk like teeth and large golden eyes that stood out on its dark colored body.

“What is that?!” Jay exclaimed and Zane explained, “Snakemander; a large carnivorous labyrinthodont amphibian native to many waterways of Ninjago and the Dark Isle.” Nya was being held by its tail and rear end up out of the water while it went under the log in the water and its front end came up onto the log to look back at its prey. That had been what had knocked them off the arch; slamming them all with its entire body.

“A labri-what!” Jay expressed shocked as Kai tossed a ball of fire at the creatures face yelling at it to let go of his sister. While not hurting it the fireball clearly bothered the amphibian. It let Nya go while diving back under the water.

“A type of ancient amphibian; Snakemanders are very long bodied salamander like amphibians,” Zane explained as Nya fell back into the water at which time Cole was tugged by his one leg by something and pulled under the water. Another of these Snakemanders burst out of the water wrapping itself around Zane and dragging him under the water while another jumped onto the blockage causing it to move a bit. With one of them out of the water they were scared to see the full size of these creatures and why they had the term snake in their name. They had very long elongated bodies at least as long and possibly longer than a bus with short and stubby clawless limbs. The arms were not far from the head giving it a short neck while the legs were about halfway between the arms and the tip of the tail. To try and scare it off Kai threw some fireballs at it struggling to get his powers working as the cold water of the river began pushing them all closer to hypothermia. He missed each time he tried to hit the beast as it went to snap at them. Luckily it wasn’t fond of the fire backing away from it each time he threw a fireball. His misses however started the dry debris out of the water including the large log creating the blockage on fire.

Meanwhile under the water the creature that had grabbed Zane had pulled him down to the river bottom about two to three meters down and after a quick inspection of him let him go to attack the others clearly recognising he was not organic in make therefore not prey. Once free Zane looked around for Cole who had also been dragged under and who he felt likely needed his help. Cole was just managing to get free of the Snakemander that had grabbed him. He managed to scare it by erupting rock spires on the river bed around it. The act scared the creature which let him go.

The act of the fighting while holding his breath however had taken its toll on him and he was starting to go unconscious from a lack of oxygen. Zane wasted no time heading over to grab Cole making sure to put his one hand over Coles mouth and nose first to keep him from accidently breathing in water; he knew just grabbing him would startle him and cause Cole to instinctively gasp in shock. Sure enough Cole was startled by his touch however thanks to his forward thinking he kept Cole from accidently breathing in water. Once seeing who had him Cole relaxed. The two quickly made for the surface Cole barely able to help as he tried to keep from passing out. Once at the surface Cole gasped for air while Zane began to cough to get the water he had accidently breathed in when the Snakemander had pulled him under out of his synthetic lungs.

The waters current carried them back to the blockage where the others had climbed out onto the debris to escape some of the Snakemanders. There was three of them that were attacking their group who all wanted to get one of them. Luckily though the creatures clearly weren’t wanting to share and kept getting into fights with each other trying to drive the others away. Two were fighting each other in front of the pile occasionally slamming into it jolting the debris which moved some bits especially those burned loose by the fire that had consumed part of the pile. The third had climbed up onto the wall of the cliff at the side of the river looking for the easiest of them to target.

Chapter link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34894561/chapters/161647105#workskin

[kindheart525]

Do you have any really silly mane six headcanons

Twilight Sparkle once smoked weed during her equivalent of college and to this day is terrified that Celestia will find out (Celestia already knows)

Twilight has very little knowledge of memes and her friends frequently have to explain new slang to her before she causes political scandals (“no Twilight ‘kys’ does not mean ‘keep yourself safe’”)

Much like a real horse, Twilight often falls asleep standing up during her late-night stress & study sessions. Spike has had to wake her up and tell her to go to bed numerous times

Twilight was that kid who reminded her teachers there was homework when they forgot. Her classmates didn’t really like her for that

Her love life is very…active lol, including when she’s in a stable and committed relationship (like active within that relationship not as a serial cheater). She loves learning new techniques if you catch my drift

Fluttershy is surprisingly confident when she’s attracted to someone, and when she’s in a committed relationship she has a lot of fun facts about animal mating patterns to share with them for…no particular reason

Unlike Twilight, Flutters is surprisingly well-versed in memes because she’s learned a lot from Discord (and also Treehugger). She doesn’t really understand the humor in all of them but she’s aware of them

(In a universe where FlutterCord is canon) She had to absolutely fight for her life in the Mane 6 meetups when she told her friends she was dating/crushing on him

Daring Do eventually loses popularity, partly because so many of her books involve actual artifact theft and social attitudes have changed, and partly because ponies just moved on to newer book series. Rainbow Dash still remains her biggest die-hard fan even when she looks pathetic doing so

Rainbow Dash acts like a big baby every time Tank hibernates for the rest of her life (he outlives her) but after the first few years it’s kind of silly

This isn’t an idea I came up with but I really like all the jokes about RD writing really bad fanfiction, and it’s a headcanon I subscribe to

(Mostly a joke because I do ship her with mares outside of my next gens) Rainbow Dash is straight but has a lot of mares asking her out because of her mane, and it’s hard to get stallions because they also think she’s gay. She also has a hard time relating to her friends who all like mares

RD doesn’t take good care of her hooves because she flies all the time and forgets to trim them due to not walking very much. Because of this, they look funky and overgrown and her friends kind of clown on her for it

When she’s older, Rainbow Dash wrecks some of her joints trying to do stunts that she did when she was younger (like carrying her “little” sister). She has the worst midlife crisis out of all her friends

When Rarity was a filly, she used to create the most elaborate and dramatic plotlines with her dolls that easily measured up to any soap opera, with betrayals, love triangles, custody battles, the whole works

She enjoys listening to soul-crushingly sad music (like Marina’s discography) during her ice cream-crying sessions, in the process roleplaying a life much more dysfunctional than she has because it helps her cope with her actual problems. Also listens to that music in a good mood if she needs to be inspired for a certain fashion piece

She overstocks her supplies to a sometimes comical extent, like she has 400 refills for her bedazzler machine. How does she have room for all that stuff? A lady never reveals her secrets, darling✨

Applejack loves singing country songs like “Thank God I’m A Country Colt” and “International Harvester” at the top of her lungs, they literally never fail to get her hyped up

(In a human context, ignoring Equestria Girls) it took her awhile to learn that Apple Bloom had TikTok and other social media accounts because she only uses Facebook on her clunky home computer

AJ is incapable of enjoying any kind of sitcom because she’s always poking holes in the plot. Her least favorite storylines are the “caught in a lie” and general miscommunication tropes

She also can’t watch well-written, dramatic tv shows either if any of the characters behave dishonestly (such as Breaking Bad)

Pinkie and Cheese once performed “Amish Paradise” for her parents and sisters (even in universes where they aren’t a couple). Reactions were VERY mixed

Also some of my “how they explain the birds and the bees to their kids” headcanons for my next gens are pretty funny

Fluttershy is really good at explaining the whole life cycle (including reproduction and death) because taking care of so many animals means she’s seen it all. Nothing squicks her out anymore. She explains things matter-of-factly but gently as she guides her little ones through various examples involving her animals.

Twilight would do a good job and be comfortable with it but she would also go overboard, giving a college-level lecture about the full reproductive process when her 10 year old daughter only wanted to know what going into heat meant. Twi’s partner calls Fluttershy in to help for the kid’s sake.

Rarity buys her daughter the pony equivalent of those Care & Keeping of You books (and her son gets the male equivalent of those books). She uses those books to bond with her kids over “becoming a mare/stallion.”

Applejack is very overprotective of Apple Bloom and probably procrastinated on giving her “the talk” only to find out that AB already learned from the other CMC (especially Scoot “left completely unsupervised 24/7” aloo /hj). A similar deal would probably happen with her own kids as well unless her partner is better about it. Even though, years before, Granny Smith was very straight with AJ like “ya wanna know how our new batch of chicks was made?”

Pinkie isn’t uncomfortable with the talk at all, except her explanation gets so convoluted and off topic that her kids go off to ask someone else.

Rainbow Dash says “go ask your father”