#she can shoot and she's damn good at it

[8bitpizzacoupons]

every few months my love of Grace Armstrong grabs me by the throat and whips me against the wall like a ragdoll

she is SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER i wanna post about her more but my thoughts get so incoherent cuz theres just!! so much to dive into!!

[softquietsteadylove]

Both are attending a meeting with some business partners but soon they insult and make fun of Gil getting himself shot. Thena isn’t having it at all and soon they are begging for mercy and forgiveness 😈

For the tyrant king au of course 😁

"Then we're agreed."

Gil stood, although he hadn't said nearly as much in the meeting as Thena had with their associates. The businessmen in question were mostly interested in Thena's assets, after all, it was just that some of their 'goods' would be distributed through Thena's channels, as well as through Koreatown and Chinatown.

He wasn't nearly interested enough in what was being said; he wanted to be at home, with Thena, cuddling on the couch or listening to her read in bed while he played on his phone.

"Indeed we are," Thena nodded. The businessmen offered their hands, but Thena looked over at him. The Ice Queen didn't shake hands unless she was already acquainted with her associate.

Gil sighed, extending his hand to shake instead. The things he did for this woman. "I'm sure our doors will be open if you need to discuss anything else about the plans."

"Thank you," the associates traded looks, "Tyrant King. Your reputation precedes you. We have heard so much about your work."

He wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but he slipped his hands into his pockets as they prepared to end the meeting, "great."

"Is it true you killed Kro?" the younger associate of the two asked in a near whisper, a juvenile glee coming from him as he asked.

"No," Gil answered without hesitation. The younger man looked disappointed before he moved his thumb towards Thena beside him, "she did."

"Ah yes, the Ice Queen is not without her own methods."

Gil caught Thena's eye for just a second. Again, he wasn't really sure what this young guy's deal was, but he was more and more eager to wrap things up.

"But The Prince Eternal, that most certainly was you!" the other associate now joined in. Technically, it was bad decorum--bringing up past business that wasn't anything they should be concerned with, Gil thought.

"Uh, yeah," Gil blinked. He wasn't sure how they had found that one out.

"Ah," the older one at least seemed to realise how rude they were being. "Forgive the intrusion. We do have quite a skilled information dealer we consulted before coming. Can't be ignorant to our honourable host's reputations, after all."

"You can be a little ignorant," Gil mumbled, although it was taken as more of a friendly joke than how he meant it--a genuine urging for them to get the fuck out of his office.

"You've had quite the past, Tyrant King!" the younger one chimed in again. "A bungled affair, sending business away left and right!"

"You even got shot last year!"

Perhaps they were unable to read the room--like, at all. But the two seemed elated to prove that they knew the lives of their business associates. They even grinned at him as they said it.

"It happens," the younger one waved it off like it was nothing, "I don't think you're past your prime at all!"

Gil bit his tongue. He didn't realise that was an opinion people had of him. What--because he got shot?! He didn't see how that was his fault.

"It was the fall of one of the great families in the business back in Korea! Their daughter still hasn't been seen in public."

Gil resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Do you know why that is?"

Gil felt a shiver run up even his spine, and he wasn't the one in trouble. He looked at the men who, by the calm looks on their faces, didn't seem to know yet why the temperature had changed so much.

Thena just stared at them, but they didn't make a guess at all. So, she informed them. "It's because I cut off one of her fingers before I sent her back to them."

The two men looked at one another. Apparently that wasn't in the briefing done by their precious 'information dealer' (horseshit). They put on perfectly polite smiles. "We were unaware, Ice Queen."

"Most are," Thena continued to fix them with her icy green glare. She rustled her lace around her shoulders. "I also told her that she would be relieved of her ears next, if I ever saw her near me, or my husband, again."

"Your-"

"We weren't-"

Poor guys didn't even see it coming. They could have just looked down when Thena adjusted her lace to see that she had reached for her hip. Her fingers had grasped the knife she kept around her thigh, which was now driven into the younger man's leg, dangerously close to some key arteries.

She looked at the other one, who flinched just from that. "I take threats - and disrespect - of the Tyrant King very seriously."

"I-I-I would-" he stuttered, trying to back up to the office doors behind him. But he could never have moved fast enough, getting another of her knives launched into the palm of his hand he had been trying to use to show her he meant no harm.

The younger one pulled the knife out of his thigh, but he wasn't in any condition to fight back. Thena used the sole of her heel to push him over in his crumpled posture, like a wounded animal.

"Did you find the story thrilling?" she asked so dryly and evenly. Gil watched as she reached into the younger man's suit jacket and pulled out the weapon he had in an arm holster. She held it in a way that was kind of sexy, honestly. "Did you find it amusing?"

"I'm sorry!" he yelped, trying to crawl, but his leg was all but useless. "I'm sorry, I won't say it again!"

"Do you know where he was shot?" she turned to the other one, who sprinted to the doors and pulled on them to escape.

She shot him from behind, two in the ribs and one by his clavicle (if he had been turned around facing her). "Is it painful?"

Gil just whistled to himself, impressed as always. Thena didn't even look back at him; she wasn't done.

She walked over to the man dragging his bloody hand down Gil's nice, solid oak door. Again, she used her foot to nudge him into looking up at her. "I said: is it painful?"

"Y-Yes," the man snivelled.

"Yes?" Thena glared down at him, flipping his hand over and stepping on it (the injured one).

"Y-Yes--yes, Ice Queen!"

Thena emptied the rest of the clip next to his head, scaring him very literally shitless. She left him kneeling on the floor, watching his life flash before his eyes. The completely empty and useless weapon, she tossed at the head of the other one, letting it smack him in the face like tossing a food wrapper in the garbage.

Gil pulled his hands out of his pockets just to clap. "Holy shit, Princess, that was hot!"

She glared at him, "is that truly the adjective you wish to choose?"

"Okay," he chuckled, walking over to her to amend his compliment. He kissed her temple, wrapping his arm around her, "it was ice cold."

Thena rolled her eyes at the silly joke (as the men screamed and cried in agony in the background). "That was far worse."

"Yeah, but that's why you're marrying me," Gil snickered, positively delighted to bring up their engagement at every possible opportunity.

Thena sighed, straightening his collar and unbuttoning his shirt, now that they weren't in a very important meeting. She liked seeing the edges of his tattoo sleeves encroaching on his shoulders. "I would not say that is why."

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, leading her out of the office that was about to stink of blood and evacuated bowels. "My devilish good looks were too much to resist, huh?"

Thena didn't chide him, at least, letting him lead her away from the mess they left inside. She merely let her lace settle in the crooks of her elbows as he led her to the elevators. "I am willing to agree if it gets us home that much faster."

Gil pointed at his office from the elevator doors, "that's gonna need a good bleaching."

"Understood sir!" his guys knew what that meant, and exactly what evidence to wash out of his area rugs.

Once they were in the elevator, away from prying eyes, Thena allowed him to nuzzle her cheek. "What an exhausting meeting."

"I barely remember anything from it," he agreed, and the way she laughed meant that he didn't need to tell her that. He kissed her cheek, "but I do remember you saying that you felt like sushi tonight."

"Something light, please," she sighed, allowing him to unravel the tight knots that comprised her business persona.

"Anything you desire, Ice Queen," Gil purred for her. He would tell her when they were home how sexy he found her whole defense of him. Maybe he could even get her to be a little pushy with him tonight.

[castelled-away]

The scene in „The Hunter’s Heart“ where Arthur unknowingly hunts Gwen (while she’s a deer) gives me Disney’s Swan Lake-vibes bc the prince (Derek) also hunts Odette in her swan-form while also not knowing that it is her

[hauntingblue]

Jaya time

I love these moments of nearly cosmic horror when they encounter inexplicable things (at first) they are so intriguing

Is strawhat here?! *Megan thee stallion saying AAH 😜*

This cover just goes hard... Get it chopper

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Wife!Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, jealous!alastor, soft comforting shower sex, knotting, alastor has a tail, consent, making out, soft kisses, biting, marking kink, alstor laps up the readers blood because he bites a liiiitle too hard, creampie, banter between alastor and lucifer, as well as banter between the reader and angel

☒ Word Count: 1,972

Alastor was quite the jealous type. 

You were his wife in life and death. To say he was protective of you was an understatement. So, it only made sense that Alastor would lose his composure when the ruler of hell himself arrived at the Hazbin Hotel. 

Lucifer was a rather charming man, but you were spoken for. So when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm, your hand yanked away in the blink of an eye. You could have sworn you heard a crackling growl escape your husband's lips as he watched Lucifer offer you a lustful gaze- and that was simply unacceptable. 

"I see you've met my wife!" Alastor let out a forced chuckle as he looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. You let out a sigh of relief. All thanks to your husband's rescue. Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look before he blurted out, "You're joking... right?" He scoffed. 

Your face scrunched up in anger at Lucifer's rude remark. "Oh, he's as serious as a heart attack." You spat, snaking your own arm around Alastor's back. You squeezed his waist, a habit of yours that let your dear husband know when you were livid. 

"But- look at you! You're gorgeous, sweetheart, and he's just... freaky." You were about to snap back before your husband's maniacal laughter tore through the room. "Ha Ha! That's rich coming from the short stack!" Alastor quipped, grip tensing around your waist. Lucifer's chest puffed up in defense before he let out an airy laugh. 

"Aha! The height I lack up here, I surely make up for below the belt! Maybe I can show your wife sometime." Lucifer shot you a playful wink, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust. Alastor tensed beside you before he let out another forced laugh, ducking low to get in Lucifer's face. "Ha Ha! Fuck you." Your husband spat, voice missing its usual radio static tone. 

Before the situation could escalate further, Charlie intervened. Pushing her father away from the tense atmosphere while mouthing a sympathetic "Sorry!" your way. The aura in the room was stiff. You could certainly cut the tension with a butter knife. "Damn, smiles! Looks like lil' Luci himself has got eyes for your girl!" Angel stated before taking a swig of his cocktail. 

You turned your head in Angel's direction. Shooting him a warning glare. The last thing you wanted was for Angel to get caught in the crossfire of your husband's anger. Alastor remained quiet before he slowly began walking toward the staircase. You could tell he was seething with how his ears twitched atop his head. Your husband flickered up the steps without a word, making you worry. 

"Damn it, Angel! You knew he was pissed enough as is, no need to poke the bear!" You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way over to the bar. Husk poured you a drink, shaking his head in agreement. "Dont'cha mean poke the deer?" Angel chuckled, patting your back in a lighthearted manner. Husk cursed under his breath at Angel's remark. 

"Cut that shit out, or he'll put you on his next fuckin' broadcast," Husk grumbled, cleaning a glass with a worn-down rag. You sipped your drink before rubbing your temples once more, shaking your head in annoyance. "I should probably go check in on him..." You spoke to yourself before turning on your heel, waving a small goodbye to your two good buddies. 

"She's in for a loooong night!" Angel giggled, causing Husk to flick his forehead as a warning to "Shut the fuck up."

You took a breath before carefully opening your shared bedroom door. "Darling?" You called out, descending further into the space as you scanned the room for your husband. You peacefully made steps toward your private bathroom, having heard the shower running from beyond the door. To your luck, the door was left unlocked, making it easy for you to slip inside. 

The bathroom was full of steam as your eyes trailed to the red tufts of hair reflecting through the clear glass shower door. Alastor heard you come in, but he still remained silent. Trying his best to cool off. He hated losing his composure more than anything. Carefully, you began ridding yourself of your garments, leaving your clothes in a pile beside Alastor's. You slid the glass door open, stepping into the shower with your husband. 

Alastor's ears were pinned against his head as he stood underneath the shower head, allowing the water to cascade down his face. His back was toward you. Your husband's hands were placed in front of him on the cold tiles. Keeping him stabilized. "Al, my love? Is it alright if I touch you?" You whispered softly from where you stood behind him. A moment passed before he nodded in agreement, still remaining silent. 

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him. Allowing your hands to caress his midsection all the way up his chest. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, pressing your chest flush against his back. Alastor let out a deep sigh, your touch bringing him much-needed comfort. "That impudent man.." Your husband muttered, ears twitching in annoyance as he did so. You rubbed circles into his chest, placing gentle kisses against his back. 

"He's a jerk, Al. I'm all yours, forever and always," Your lips curled into a smile toward the end of your sentence as you felt his tail wagging, brushing against your lower tummy. Your husband's shoulders eased up from your words. He let out a breath before turning on his heel. Alastor's hands immediately cupped your face, doubling over to capture your lips with his. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands rubbing your husband's sides lovingly as your mouths molded perfectly against one another. 

Your shared embrace lasted a few beats longer before your husband pulled back, half-lidded crimson eyes gazing down at you. "Indeedy, my doe. You're all mine! I suppose I'll have to make it evident to the short stack... and anyone else who dares to court you." His voice dipped low; as did his wandering hands. Alastor's pointed nails dug into the back of your thighs as he hoisted you up. On instinct, your legs wrapped around his slender waist. 

A pleasant gasp escaped you as you felt your husband's hard length brush against your core. Alastor let out a deep growl against the nape of your neck as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. "Alastor..." You whined. Tipping your head back so your husband could have better access. A shiver ran down your spine when your back collided with the cool tile walls. Alastor bit a little too harshly between the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 

A bit of blood trickled down your collarbone, but your husband was quick to lap it up. A deep groan from him sent a rush of heat down to your core. "Divine, my little doe. Absolutely delectable," Alastor mumbled against your sternum before one of his hands slipped between your bodies. He rubbed the flushed tip of his cock between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your slick. "May I, my darling?" Alastor whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he waited patiently for your approval.

"Yes, please..." You sighed, burying your hands into his soaked two-toned locks. Your husband slowly pushed himself past the tight ring of your pussy. Capturing your lips at the same time, drinking up all of your moans as he stretched you open. Your eyes rolled back into your head when Alastor bottomed out inside you. Slowly, you caressed his sensitive ears. Pride pooled in your chest when your husband twitched wildly inside you from the gesture. 

Your lips pulled back from his when Alastor began thrusting into you. His movements were sharp but shallow, not wanting to pull back more than he had to from the warmth of your pussy. Your husband's head fell forward, forehead resting flush against your shoulder. Alastor groaned against your damp skin as your walls clenched tightly around his throbbing cock. All you could do was moan in pleasure as your husband fucked into you perfectly. 

"Mine, all mine..." Alastor huffed out before suckling at the base of your neck. You could feel your husband's knot begin to swell inside you as your own release approached rapidly. Apsentmindly, Alastor's thumb dipped between your bodies. He rubbed at your clit expertly as he jackhammered up into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as the coil within your tummy was only moments from snapping. "I'm yours, all yours..." 

Your words sent Alastor over the edge. He moaned loudly into your neck as his hips stilled, emptying his load deep inside you. The feeling of your husband cumming inside you was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Alastor hissed as he felt your pussy gush around his cock, squeezing him like a vise. After a few moments, you felt Alastor's knot begin to deflate. Allowing his now softening cock to slip out of your inviting heat. "You truly are just darling. How did I get so lucky?" Alastor chuckled as he lifted his head to gaze into your eyes. 

A bashful smile crossed your features as Alastor slowly lowered your thighs from off his waist. Being sure to hold your hips, stabilizing your trembling legs. "Oh, hush! I'm the lucky one." You giggled, untangling your hands from his hair. Allowing your palms to cup his face, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. Alastor kept his eyes open as you kissed, admiring your lovely visage. After a moment, you pulled back, nuzzling your nose into his. "Now, let's get washed up before heading back out there, yeah?" 

Alastor and you emerged from the room a little while later. Meeting up with the group from where they gathered in the foyer. Charlie cheerfully waved you and your husband over, and you didn't miss the way Lucifer scowled at Alastor. "We were wondering where you lovebirds wandered off to," Vaggie stated, scooting over on the couch to allow you both to sit. Swiftly, Alastor sat on the sofa before pulling you into his lap. A smile etched into your face as your husband's arms looped around your frame, large palms caressing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard Lucifer grumble under his breath from the public display of affection. Your friends, on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor. Alastor rarely showed his physical admiration toward you in front of them. So, to say they were shocked was an understatement. "Told ya they snuck away to fuck! Look at her neck, haha- Husk! You owe me that hundred bucks," Angel blurted out. Laughing his ass off. Heat rushed to your face from your friend's crass words. Alastor, on the other hand, glared at Lucifer. His smile stretched from ear to ear as the ruler of hell fumed. 

"Angel-! Husk-?! You made a bet on whether or not Alastor and I would... ah, you fuckers!" Embarrassment flooded your entire being, hands darting up to cover your face. Alastor let out a loud chuckle from your adorable reaction. "No, toots. We're not the fuckers! You're the one who got fucked, aha!" You quickly got up from your spot atop Alastor's lap, storming over to Angel. "Husk, you're next!" You shouted, chasing Angel around the lobby. "Leave me out of this! That dumbass wouldn't shut up until I accepted the bet." Husk grumbled, not entertaining the bullshit. 

All the while, Alastor was giving Lucifer a sharp look with that shit-eating grin still illuminating his features. "As you can see, there's no need for you to show my wife your little chum below the belt. My darling is more than satisfied in my care!"

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[hoshifighting]

Two words. Dilf Cheol. (I am on the brink of insanity thank yewww)

dilf!seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crying, marriage, his kid loves u, shy dilf!seungcheol at the beginning.

oh man, dilf!seungcheol though? i think about it every single day, i swear. and yeah, it all starts with that awkward-ass moment at the café. he’s standing there all buff and shy, trying to work up the nerve to ask for your number, his daughter hanging onto his leg like she’s his bodyguard. her big, curious eyes peeking out at you while he stumbles over his words. “uh… I just… I thought maybe you’d… uh,” seungcheol scratches the back of his neck, all nervous—like he isn’t the size of a tank. “you know, if you’re not busy… you could give me your insta?” he’s waiting for you to laugh at him, probably thinks he’s gonna get rejected because, you know, he’s got a kid and all. like that makes him less attractive or something. but you’re all heart-eyes the second his little girl pipes up with, “daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

dude nearly dies on the spot. he’s so red, you could probably cook an egg on his cheeks. but you just crouch down to her level, giving her the same sweet smile you flashed at the waitress earlier, and say, “well, I think your dad’s really handsome, too.”

game over. you’ve got him hooked, right there.

from then on, you’re texting nonstop. it’s almost like a high school crush thing, except the guy’s a full-grown dad who still somehow makes your stomach flip like you’re sixteen again. his insta’s basically a whole love letter to his daughter, like, every other post is her: her in some princess costume, her making pancakes (or trying to), her at the park with him, her with his dog. sometimes, you’ll scroll through his feed just to see him smile because, damn, it’s so rare he smiles like that anywhere else.

but then there’s the gym photos. god, those gym photos. all sweaty and pumped up, and you swear he’s showing off just a bit for you now that he knows you’re watching. his arms look like they could crush you, but the way he talks? it’s like he’s this big ol’ teddy bear wrapped in all that muscle.

“you eat today?” he texts you at like, 2 p.m., no greeting or anything.

you text back, “noo :(( too busy.”

not even a minute later, you get a notification from some food delivery app—he’s already sent something to your place. he’s like that. doesn’t even ask, just takes care of it. if it’s cold out, he’s dropping off a coat. if it rains, a brand new umbrella’s somehow at your work's door.

one night, you're scrolling through insta, and there’s this photo of him at some fancy work event, all dressed up in a suit and tie. goddamn, you think, biting your lip, because who knew seungcheol could clean up like that? the suit hugs every muscle, and it’s wild how he can look that good in anything from sweats to formalwear. you double-tap, and not two minutes later, he’s texting you.

“you like that one?”

you don’t even bother playing coy. “nah, I loved that one.”

there’s a pause, and you can almost picture him blushing on the other end, even though you’re the one getting all flustered.

“well, maybe you’ll get to see it in person soon,” he shoots back, and there’s a teasing edge to it, the same one that’s been driving you absolutely crazy since you started talking.

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s doing that dumb fluttery thing again. “maybe,” you reply, playing along.

and it’s like, you’re not even sure how this all happened so fast, but seungcheol? he’s always making sure you’re good, like his whole day revolves around making you smile, checking in, making sure you're eating, keeping warm. it’s low-key intense but in the best way possible.

and somehow, between all the little text convos and the insta stalking, you’ve found yourself seriously catching feelings for this dad with the cutest kid, the sweetest heart, and a whole-ass gym routine that’s absolutely unfair.

and you wonder: how the hell did you get this lucky?

seungcheol's always been like that—taking care of you like it’s second nature, probably because he’s used to being in dad-mode 24/7. you kinda feel spoiled, in the best way possible. he’s always looking out for you. it’s not that he’s overbearing; it’s just that this is how he shows he cares. but you know it goes both ways.

so one day, you decide to return the favor. you find this pink polo, something that screams him but in the softest, most endearing way. you know his daughter will love it too, ‘cause she’s all about pink and matching with her dad. you send it to him without saying much, just a little note saying, “thought this would look good on you.” the next time you see him, he's wearing it, and yeah, the shirt hugs his body perfectly. he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but you catch the way he blushes when you compliment him. “didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes are softer than usual, that little glint of he’s falling harder than he planned.

but what really seals the deal is how u handle his daughter. every time you two try to plan a date, something comes up—his mom’s busy, or the babysitter falls through, and suddenly, the whole night’s flipped. instead of a fancy dinner, you’re headed to the park or some kid-friendly café, making sure his little girl has fun. and somehow, you end up having more fun on those “ruined” dates, watching seungcheol let loose, running around with his kid while you cheer them on. it’s like you get him, get his life, and he’s not used to that.

and then, finally, one night, the stars align. his mom takes the kid for the weekend, and it’s just you and him. alone.

and oh god, does he reward you.

he’s been holding back for weeks—months even. all that pent-up frustration, that tension from constantly having to play the responsible dad while trying to not let himself get too attached to you, it all comes crashing down.

he’s rough, no question about it. but it’s the kind of rough that makes your whole body sing. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, holding, pressing you up against walls and furniture like he’s desperate to feel every inch of you at once. he’s strong, and he knows it, lifting you like you weigh nothing, carrying you from one spot to the next without breaking a sweat.

the first time, it’s almost frantic. he’s pounding into you like he’s afraid the moment’s gonna slip through his fingers, grunting into your ear, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. your legs wrap around him, but you can hardly hold on—he’s relentless, hitting that spot over and over until you’re crying out, body shaking violently.

you don’t even realize your legs are spasming until hours later, when you try to stand and nearly collapse from how shaky you are. but seungcheol’s not done. oh no. he’s far from done.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s down between your legs, eating you out like a man famished. this time, it’s slower his tongue doing things that make you arch off the bed, hands fisting in his hair as he drags you to the edge again, then pulls you back just to do it all over. every time you think you’re about to lose it, he eases up, grinning against your skin like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

and yeah, maybe it’s been ages for him, but fuck, the man knows how to destroy you. by the time he’s done, you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, heart flying from your chest, your body so sensitive that even the thought of him touching you again makes you shudder.

seungcheol though, he’s the type to take his time. slow and unshakable, like he’s gotta be absolutely sure before he makes any big moves. but with you? he’s struggling. there’s this itch under his skin, this need to lock it down, put a ring on your finger, make it official. and yeah, he’d never say it out loud, not yet. he’s got too much pride to come off that desperate. but every time he watches you with his daughter, every time she calls you her “best friend” or shows you the drawing she made of you three as a family, he’s fighting the urge to drop down on one knee and ask you to make it real.

he hides it well, though, keeps up the usual routine. he keeps taking you out on dates, some with his little girl tagging along, others just the two of you. and he’s always scolding you whenever you show up with yet another gift for her.

“y/n, you’ve gotta stop,” he groans, shaking his head as you hand his daughter a set of pink hair clips that match her favorite doll. “she’s gonna expect something every week at this point.”

but there’s that soft look in his eyes, the one that betrays how much he loves seeing you spoil his kid. he’ll roll his eyes, but you notice how he always says “my girls” now, so casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you and her. his girls.

one day, he takes you to her father’s day presentation at school. you’re not sure who’s more nervous, seungcheol or his daughter. but when she walks on stage in her tiny tutu, all giggles and shy smiles, it’s seungcheol who completely loses it. you’re sitting beside him, watching him tear up before she’s even started dancing. by the time the performance is over, he’s full-on crying, holding his face in his hands as you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

“it’s just… she’s growing up so fast,” he sniffs, looking up at you with watery eyes, completely unashamed of the tears streaming down his face. and you can’t help but love him more for it, for how much he loves his daughter, for how raw and real he is when it comes to her.

your intimate life? that’s been steady too, despite how busy things get. with a kid around, it’s not always easy to find the time, but seungcheol makes sure you’re never left wanting. there are the quickies, yeah, when his daughter’s asleep and you’ve got the living room to yourselves, stealing a heated make-out session that somehow ends up with your back pressed against the couch cushions, his hands roaming under your clothes while he kisses you senseless.

but if things get too feral, you two will sneak off to the laundry room or the closet, anywhere you can get a little privacy. he’s fast, efficient, but still so thorough, making sure you’re fully satisfied every single time. it’s like, no matter how quick things have to be, he’s always got this laser focus on making you feel good.

but even with all the passion, he’s still got that soft side. sometimes, it’s just enough to make out on the couch, your lips swollen from kissing, the weight of him pressed against you. and in those moments, there’s this quiet comprehension between you two. you don’t need the sex to feel connected—sometimes, just being close is enough.

but it’s getting harder for him to hold back. every time he sees you playing with his daughter, every time she asks if you’re coming over for dinner, he feels it. that pull. that urge to make you his. and one night, after his daughter’s fallen asleep and the two of you are tangled up on the couch, catching your breath after another one of those wild, stolen moments, he looks at you, really looks at you, and the words just fall out of his mouth.

“marry me.”

it’s not planned, not rehearsed. hell, he hadn’t even thought about it until the moment the words slipped out. but once they’re out there, he realizes he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. his hand tightens around yours, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s already bracing himself for the answer.

and all you can think is, finally.

[specshroom]

°~ A MAGE IN THE JUNGLE ~°

Includes: Use of she/her, Slimy naga dick, Size difference, strangers to...fucking? Idk.

In which: Our Mage searches the jungle for a rare species to add to her "research".

She curses as her boot clad feet catch on another root, almost sending her tumbling into the dewy jungle ground. Deciding to stop for a short break, she swats at the buzzing mosquitoes, taking her hat off to fan herself futilely while eyeing the map she bought.

The vender who sold it to her was an eccentric type, which is always a good sign in her eyes. If you're going to scam people at least commit to the whole "mysterious merchant" bit. The old hag managed to make her cough up 7 copper coin for this "traveler's essential". 

Her goodwill has not been paid back as apparently the map was more unreliable than she expected. The mage curses herself as she glowers at the useless map, trying to decipher where the hell she is.  

After a few more minutes of squinting and pointing to random places on the map, she just scrunches the flimsy paper in her hands and sets it on fire, burning it up before the embers could even reach the floor. She wasn't looking for anything any cheap map could show her anyway. 

She came here to follow an urban legend about a deadly beast that stalks the jungle. The creature has many different variations depending on who's telling the story but what is consistent is the shining gold scales adorning the creature. Stories vary widely from village to village, some say it's an old wrathful god sent down to punish those greedy enough to seek it out and some say it's a beautiful maiden with a golden tail here to bring good fortune to those deserving of it. 

Which ever story is the truth, she just couldn't hold back her fanaticism. A strange creature that apparently nobody has seen before but for some reason is being spotted closer to nearby villages more and more? That is absolutely right up her alley. 

Now if she could only find the damn thing. The villagers seemed almost relieved that someone else was going to try and find this thing, so getting information was quite easy. While the area has been narrowed down, it's still a huge chunk of jungle. At this point it would be easier if the monster just came out and tried to eat her already. 

The mage percs up when they hear water flowing and walks in that direction until she stumbles on a river. She kneels down by the waters edge, it looks pretty deep or maybe the water is just too murky to see the bottom. She hums and pulls out the flask she enchanted, fills it with water and waits for the magic to properly dispose of the dirt particles and bacteria before taking a long gulp. 

This river is wide and the water flows slowly but surely past her. She places her hand in the water, curious to see if she can see the bottom or perhaps any fish to eat. 

She softly chants an incantation, forcing the dirt particles away from her hand. This proves harder than she thought as she's never had to cleanse flowing water before. 

She leans in closer to concentrate her energy and eventually the water becomes clearer and she can see something glistening at her from the water. Is that really treasure at the bottom of the river? Could she be that lucky?

 She squints and leans closer to get a better look, the golden specs glinting in the murky water blink at her through the surface. 

She freezes and the blood in her veins turns colder than the depths of the river. 

Before she can even move a huge clawed hand shoots up from the  surface and clings onto her arm, tearing through her cloak, undershirt and skin. There's no time for a painted scream as she's pulled into the water with great force. She can feel the waters resistance against her body as it's dragged into the murky depths. 

Before this beast actually drowns her she manages to force her other hand against the current to grip onto the beasts scaly wrist. She casts the first spell she can think of, Combustion. 

Suddenly the surface of the water explodes outwards, splashing water high into the air. She propels herself upwards and breaks the surface to hover above the water. She curses and looks around frantically, she can't lose the monster now. Panicking, she summons her hat and starts chanting, willing the plentiful vines of the jungle trees to plunge into the river and search for the beast. 

When she feels a tug she wills the vines to pull the heavy struggling mass to the surface. The huge mass writhes and thrashes in its confines as it rises from the water. 

She can finally see just how massive this thing is as it fights and snarls at her. It's much bigger than any Naga she's seen before, the human half is near orc sized! The bottom half being even bigger with the long thick tail thrashing in the water below. She reinforces the vines to bind the rest of the ridiculously large tail and sets the beast down on the ground next to the river. 

When her feet meet the ground, she sighs and wills the water out of her soaked clothes. She checks her bleeding arm and sucks in a breath at how deep the gashes are. 

"Now look what you did. Fucking hell, thats deep. How long are your claws?!"

Of course she can heal it but it's such a pain. The monster on the ground hisses and spits in response. 

She takes a better look at it, or him, she discovers. His scales really do shimmer like gold with black scales painting a pattern all the way down his back and tail. His white underbelly fades into something resembling human skin as her eyes move up his rapidly moving chest. The gold scales fade into a darker black down his shoulders to the tips of his clawed fingers. Her eyes flicker to his intense stare, pure gold flickers in his irises. His drenched black hair gets in the way of his glare. 

"Wow."

She can't help but verbalise her awe. She carefully moves around him to look at him in a different angle.

"I knew you were a naga. I knew it."

She summons a book into her hand, not her spellbook but one for these special cases. She flips to a new page and licks the tip of her pencil. She crouches down to look at him expectantly,

"Do you happen to know how much you weigh? What do you eat? Most nagas are some sort of omnivorous but I'm assuming you eat mostly fish. How many fish do you have to eat to stay this size?"

She gestures incredulously to all of his giantness.

He just growls some more, quiter this time as his confusion overtakes his anger somewhat.

"Come now, I know you can understand me and I know you can speak."

He stops growling to stare at her incredulously. How could she possibly know that? The giant snake man tries to readjust but hisses again, this time in pain. She jolts up and immediately goes to assess the wound on his wrist, which is tied tightly to his back. She cringes at the red, fleshy wound she created on his body. So much for first impressions. Without much warning she immediately starts with the healing spell. This creates great discomfort for him, as his cells rebuild themselves but she knows this is better than dragging it out for longer.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

She coos at the massive man almost like he's a child or a small animal. This woman evades him. Once she's done and his wrist is good as new she springs up and clears her throat, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Sorry about that but...you did try to eat me so..."

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn't know how exactly. By the scowl on his face it doesn't look like it would be anything good. She crouches down again, peering down at him.

"Do you still want to eat me?"

He growls, nothing but hatred in his beautiful eyes as he hoaursly spits out,

"I want nothing more in the world."

"..."

The mage tries and fails to hide a girlish giggle behind her hand as she rocks back and forth on her feet. She reacts as if he'd just complemented her outfit. The Naga man pulls his mouth into a snarl and huffs in irritation, hating how this woman continues to confuse him.

After composing herself she summons her little reaserch book again, holding it against her crouched thighs to write.

"Have you actually ever eaten a human before? Be honest."

The Naga writhes in his bonds to eventually turn away from her so atleast he doesn't have to face his captor. He lies there for awhile just squirming every so often, he's already tried to cut the vines with his claws but she must have done some kind of reinforcement magic when she healed him. Damn witch.

While he devises an escape plan, he can hear scratching on paper from behind him. The mage seems to be writing quite a lot in her book. When the Naga looks back at her he catches her gaze staring intently at the intricate patterns on his back, the way the scant black scales blend with the bright gold makes for a very unique pattern.

"How much will you sell it for"

She stops sketching and looks back up at his eyes. She lets out a confused "hmm?"

This only makes him angrier.

"My hide! It must be worth a fortune! That's why you're here!"

Her gaze softens a bit, kicking herself mentally for being so unthinking towards the man. He might be big and intimidating but that doesn't mean he can't be scared for his life.

"Look, I don't want your hide. It would be much easier to just fake one anyway since nodoby knows what you actually look like. I just want to ask you a few questions and then let you get back on with your day. I'll even cook you a meal as a thank you."

The snake man is obviously skeptical, all he does is stare back at her with those gorgeous eyes.

She sighs and opens her book back up, flipping over to a particular page.

"Researching rare and perculiar creatures is a hobby of mine."

She rolls down onto her stomach and shuffles closer to the massive Naga. She leans on her elbows to show him the open page as if they were best friends at a slumber party and she's showing him her dairy.

"You're not even the rarest or most sought after Naga species I've met."

She points to a drawing she sketched of a male Naga, this one with the torso and arms of a human but the tail and head of a snake. There's a bunch of scribbles and descriptions around the drawing in a language he can't read.

"Where he's from people worship him like a god. He's a very rare species that can hypnotise someone just by looking into their eyes."

She chooses to leave out the part where she willingly let the Naga hypnotise her and use her as he pleased for weeks.

He doesn't have a response to give the mage, staring blankly at the pages as she rattles on about other species she has in her book. His skepticism somewhat dampened by these sketches of Naga just like him but with characteristics he's never seen before.

The mage notices how dark the sky has gotten, catching a few stars glinting overhead. She gets up and starts assembling the tent she brought. Pulling thick fabric out of her infinitaly deep satchel.

The Naga man just lies there watching, wondering if it would be so bad to comply with this mage. They don't seem dangerous or malicious at all but the magic they wield is still a concern. She talks to him as she works on building her temporary abode.

"Y'know, the village folk are quite nice. If you want I could talk to them, I'm sure they would rather cohabitate than live in fear of a man-eating monster in the jungle. Since you're definitely a rare species this part of the jungle could even be named as a conservation zone."

She keeps yapping stuff the Naga man doesn't care to listen to. The mage erects her shoddy little tent, does some sort of chant and then hurriedly crouches inside the small space.

She stays inside there for a while to the point where the Naga man thinks she might not return for the night. He smells something absolutely devine and realises it's cooked beef coming from inside the tent.

The damn mage walks outside with a steaming bowl of that devine smelling concoction. She stabs a piece of meat with a fork and offers it to him after blowing on it a little. She doesn't really give him time to react before poking the fork into his mouth. His taste buds are lighting up and he almost moans at the taste.

The mage grins at how he accepted her offer and stands back up.

"I just want to ask you a few questions. I'm sorry for causing you trouble but I didn't come all this way for nothing. I'm more than happy to repay you for your troubles if you just come inside."

After that she turns and walks back into the tent. As she walks away the vines binding his body loosen until they fall from his body entirely.

He's free. She's giving him an out. He could just leave.... But he can still taste the meat on his tongue. Nothing has happened to him yet so atleast he knows it's not poisoned or spiked. He turns to where the dark water of the river calls to him and turns back to the fire light coming from inside the mages tent. He sighs and hangs his head. As if the jungle itself is trying to urge him, a cool breeze blows past that seems to urge him closer to the tent.

The Naga sighs, stretches his sore limbs and slowly slithers towards the tent. He takes a deep breath before parting the fabric of the opening and crouching inside.

As he expected, the tent is much bigger than it appears on the outside. Bedding and pillows cover the floor and there is a fire with a pot over it in the middle.

The mage is humming to herself while pouring more steaming hot stew into two bowls. He sits across form her coiling his tail into a pile to sit on top of it.

She holds out a steaming bowl to him and waits patiently for him to take it. He hesitantly accepts the offer and, after watching her eat a fair portion of her own bowl, starts slurping up the meaty stew.

After the first and second serving the mage places her empty bowl aside and picks up her book. As the Naga pours himself a third helping she clears her throat, making him look up at her expectant gaze. He huffs but nods, lazing back against his tail to keep enjoying his meal. The mage gleams across from him.

"I don't know how much I weigh, I eat mostly fish and I've never eaten a human."

The mage scribbles all this down as he speaks, very pleased with his cooperation.

"How often do you shed?"

The Naga rests his arms on his tail like it's a comfy backrest. He takes a generous gulp of his stew before answering,

"...Once every season."

"So you grow moderately quick then? And you're still growing? Or do you think this is how big you'll get."

"I still shed, so I'm still growing."

The woman nods and jots that down.

"You're a constrictor type, right? No venom or hypnotising?"

He gives her a deadpan stare, as if to say "What do you think?". She gets the idea and confirms her own theory.

she chews her lip, deliberating something before she finally asks.

"Can I measure you?"

He gives her an irritated look before he slowly unwinds his tail from it's bunched up state, unfurling it out on the floor as he lies on his stomach.

The mage wastes no time springing up and pulling a rolled up tape measure out of her hat. She holds it out to him and says,

"Hold this at your head, please."

He boredly does as she asks and she carefully walks back the length of his body. He doesn't know why but he straightens his tail as much as possible while looking at her over his shoulder. When she gets to the tip of his thick tail she exclaims some numbers in a measurement he doesn't know but from the look on her face it's clearly impressive. She hurriedly scribbles that in her book.

The measuring roll disappears and the Naga goes back to his meal. He pours what's left in the bowl into his awaiting mouth before he feels a soft touch on his tail and freezes.

He slowly looks behind him at the culprit. He watches her with a predatory gaze as she hesitantly tests his patience. He watches her, as if daring her to go further and so obviously she does. She inches higher up his tail to where is gets much thicker, lightly tracing the patterns on his reptilian skin. She softly touches his golden scales as if they're fragile.

The mage gets more confident and crawls higher up his tail, getting more inquisitive and bold.

"Is the underside more sensitive?"

She asks, genuinely curious. He doesn't answer, just keeps staring at her with a look that says "Try it", so that's what she does. She looks into his eyes and slides her hand down the side of his tail towards the white underbelly.

He strikes before she can even blink. He has her on the floor coiled up in his tail as he entraps her whole body with his. She doesn't offer much of a fight besides some squirming but his tightening hold on her body forces her to still.

"Is this what you want mage?"

She says nothing, only looks up at him with those same curious eyes. He can feel her heart beat as he squeezes her rib cage, it beats steady and bold. She's not scared of him at all and that intrigues him more than he likes.

The Naga looms over her, he reaches out to grab her jaw tilting her head around to look over her face. He's tried to ignore it but he's also quite curious about her and her own species. He pinches his fingers slightly so that it makes her lips pout together before he reaches out with his other hand to take her pink tongue in between his thumb and pointerfinger. She just stares up at him, offering no resistance.

He strokes the small wet muscle with his thumb, rubbing over where it would split into two if she was a Naga like him. It's so small compared to his fingers and much warmer than he anticipated, probably due to the warm meal they just shared. He sticks his tongue out to lick the air and pauses when he smells something unfamiliar but unmistakable, coming from the Mages lower parts.

He's smelled it once before when he caught sight of a human woman bathing in the river, he couldn't help but linger in the brush and watch the human as she touched herself. He feels the same need now that he felt then, a curious burn in his stomach.

The mage struggles in his hold,

"I know you're curious too..."

She says up at him, almost hopefully. She slowly struggles her legs free to wrap them around his wide torso, squeezing him between her thighs. As he looks down at her the snake man feels her warm body heat radiating off of her seeping into his skin, the movement of her chest, her pulse. He can feel his cock poking out from the slowly parting slit on his white underbelly.

He licks the air one more time before his mouth catches hers in a needy kiss. She immediately kisses back with fever, fidgeting more in his hold making him tighten the heavy coils which only makes her let out a pleasured cry into his mouth. His tongue feels so odd on her own, it's much longer than hers and he pushes it down her throat with abandon.

His tail slithers around her body, lifting her shirt up. When she first feels his cold skin against her warm stomach she's filled with need to feel him against every inch of her skin. She struggles in his hold, kissing him with more need and trying to grind her neglected cunt against something.

The Naga huffs a laugh and watches her kick her legs helplessly.

"Do you have other clothes?"

He mumbles against her lips, she nods into the kiss.

His claws tear her pants and underwear away as if the garments were made of tissue paper, doing the same to the neckline of her shirt and undershirt. She groans at the feeling of his cold skin against hers and the humid night air on her cunt.

She feels a slick substance drip onto her pussy and groans loudly.

"Show me. Let me see."

She pleads and struggles even more. He chuckles and nibbles on the skin of her neck,

"Little thing like you should be scared. What if it's too much for you?"

His concern is real even if he's insanely turned on by this situation. Her body might not be able to keep up with her inquisitive mind.

"Try me."

She looks into his eyes with determination, he looks back. One of his hands go to stroke his growing cocks as they unsheath from their slit. She stretches to pear over his tail wrapped around her. There's two, one big cock clearly meant for insemination, the same colour as his white underbelly and a second reddish coloured one, she assumes is meant for extra stimulation. The Naga strokes the big one with one hand, both cocks have slick ooze spilling from them and they're dripping with slick which she guesses is produced from the slit they come out of.

She worms her hand over one of his coils to grip onto his tail, she whines loudly at him. She wants it inside her so bad. He chuckles at her again as more of his precum drips onto her pussy lips.

He can't deny her pleas for long and against his better judgement he prods at her entrance with his cock, rubbing the tip up against her hole.

She grinds up into him and he takes that as the go ahead to slide inside her. The slippery tip sheathes inside her rather easily, it's the rest of him he's worried about. He struggles to hold himself back from pounding the hot tight pussy squeezing around him, he truly doesn't want to hurt the Mage.

Said Mage is almost in tears at being unintentionally edged by him. She squeezes her thighs around his massive waist, squirming around as much as she can. The Naga finds he likes the way her soft naked body wriggles in his coils, he especially likes the way her thigh muscles tense and relax. His sharp claws gently caress the fat of her thighs, curiously squeezing and jiggling the fat slightly. She whines again and he decides to be merciful and slides his cock further inside her while gripping her thighs.

He's too slow, too cautious and she just can't take it anymore.

She mumbles a little spell and the Nagas body feels a sudden force pulling him closer to her making him hiss as his cock is suddenly thrusted to the hilt. The smaller cock is rubbing up against her clit delisciously and the slick coating his cock seeps out of her pussy.

"If I want you to stop, I can make you. Stop, pussying around fuck me."

He stares down at her with blown out eyes, she stares up at him so determined while still being thoroughly bound in his hold. His breathing is more ragged and a grin finds it's way on his face. He looks almost feral and it makes the mages pussy clench around him which makes him reactively thrust back.

She's spun around suddenly in his hold, his tail unwinding until her arms are free and there's one coil left around her waist. Her arms are quickly bound by his own hands, gripping her much smaller arms. He gives a hard thrust into her cunt and growls in her face as she moans back up at him.

He starts a rough pace, having thrown all cation to the wind. Her tight human pussy squeezes him so tight like he squeezes around her body with his tail. The loud wet slapping sounds his hips make against hers make everything even more erotic. His coiled tail around her grips her waist tightly and he groans when he can feel his own cock bulge against her stomach where his tail holds her.

He brings the end of his tail to wrap around her wrists binding them together while his ramming into her soaked pussy.

He speeds up even more and places his palm on top of his smaller dick, pressing it against her clit. His other hand is gripping her under thigh so hard she's pretty sure his claws have pierced her skin. The stimulation on his sensative cock makes him frantically thrust into her until he releases deep inside her. He shakes and spasms as he empties himself into her. If he was more conscious he would be embarrassed at how needy he must have looked.

His orgasm lasts quite awhile longer than she expected, she realises he must have been really pent up as his cock just keeps shooting seed into her every few seconds. The poor Naga looks exhausted when his orgasm finally ends. His eyes are closed, breathing deeply with strands of black hair fall delicately around his face. The tail around her wrists loosens and she immediately goes to pull him down into her embrace, clutching his sweaty body into her warmer one.

He hums into her neck, enjoying her warm softness. His tongue flicks out occasionally to lick her salty skin and smell her on the air.

"Did I tire you out, big guy?"

She jokes, while her hands caress the comparatively massive expanse of his back. She tries to remind herself that he might be inexperienced and more sensitive than usual, she doesn't want him to feel bad about getting overstimulated.

The Naga lifts his head from her neck, his body casts a shadow over hers as he looms over her again. He gives her a sharp fanged grin.

"Don't be so cocky, Mage."

The end of his tail slowly comes from behind to wrap around her neck as the coil still wrapped around her waist lifts her torso up high. His softening cock slips out of her dripping cunt as he lifts her up with his tail. She groans low as she feels the copious amounts of slick and spend fall from her pussy to the floor.

The naga curiously runs his thumb up the length of the mages pussy, gathering up the fluids. He feels a strange urge to keep as much of his cum inside her as possible. Careful of his sharp claws he opts to push his spend back into her pussy with his tongue, feeling the way she squirms and clenches around his forked tongue. The Naga hisses lightly in delight and smooshes his face into the fat warmth of her thigh while looking into her eyes. She peers at him with a dazed look, loving the way his tail lightly squeezes her thoat.

"I'm far from done with you."

As it turns out she didn't get to ask him many questions that night. Not that she complained about it much.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[brunchable]

How I met your Father. | Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Themes: Getting noticed by your crush. Pining from Reader.

Summary: You work at the cafe Bucky always goes to and you've had a crush on him for MONTHS.

A/N: Conntected with How's Retirement, Bucky? and Ouch, my face.

The bell above the door jingles as the early morning rush dwindles down, leaving only the occasional customer trickling in. You’re wiping down the counter, lost in thought, when your coworker, Emma, elbows you hard enough to make you stumble.

“Ow, what—” You shoot her a glare, but her eyes are wide, and she nods her head toward the door with a smirk.

“Guess who just walked in,” she whispers conspiratorially, her grin widening. “Mr. Grumpy Pants himself.”

Your heart does an involuntary flip, and your eyes dart to the entrance. Sure enough, there he is, all dark and brooding with that permanent scowl on his face. Bucky Barnes, the man who you’ve secretly—and very stupidly—had a crush on for the past three months.

“Oh my God, stop calling him that,” you hiss, but your voice is a pitch too high, giving you away instantly. You try to ignore the fact that your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

Emma just chuckles and nudges you again, her voice teasing. “Come on, Y/N, everyone knows you’ve got it bad for him. You literally beam like a sunflower whenever he’s around.”

Another coworker, Lily, pokes her head out from behind the espresso machine and joins in. “Yeah, it’s like you’re part of some weird ‘grumpy guy fan club’ or something. He never even smiles, and you’re over here trying to win him over with puns and pastries.”

“Y’all are the worst,” you mutter, willing yourself to calm down. “And it’s not a fan club. It’s called being friendly.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Emma drawls, winking. “Being friendly. That’s why you spend extra time drawing hearts in his latte foam.”

“I do not!” You glare at her, scandalized. “He doesn’t even order lattes!”

“Okay, but if he did,” she teases, “you’d find a way.”

“Shut up, he’s coming over,” you say under your breath, hurriedly pushing Emma and Lily away as you straighten up, forcing yourself to look composed and nonchalant.

Bucky walks up to the counter, his usual stoic expression firmly in place. He gives you a nod of acknowledgment, but not much more.

“Morning,” he grumbles.

“Good morning!” you chirp, and damn it, there’s that stupid sunflower smile on your face again. You catch Emma and Lily exchanging knowing looks behind the counter and pointedly ignore them. “Usual today?”

“Yeah, iced americano,” he replies, his voice that familiar low rumble.

You ring him up, trying to suppress the fluttery feeling in your chest. As you grab a cup and scribble his name on it (which you definitely didn’t write just a little fancier than everyone else’s), you decide to take a chance. You shoot him a playful look.

“Hey, did you hear about the coffee that got arrested?”

He blinks at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “No. Why?”

“It got mugged,” you say brightly, giving the punchline your best delivery, complete with a little ta-da gesture.

Silence. Bucky just stares at you, his expression unreadable. It’s like talking to a statue. You can practically feel Emma and Lily holding their breaths, waiting for his reaction.

“...Right,” he mutters finally, nodding slowly. “Mugged.”

You wilt a little but keep your smile plastered on. “Tough crowd, huh?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and for a second—just a split second—you think you see a flicker of something in his eyes, like amusement. Or maybe you’re imagining things.

You finish making his coffee, and as you hand it to him, Emma stage-whispers from behind the counter. “Come on, Mr. Barnes! Give her a break. She’s been working on those jokes all week.”

“Emma!” you hiss, mortified. Your eyes dart to Bucky’s, your heart hammering.

But instead of looking annoyed, he tilts his head, regarding you with a sort of curious intensity. “All week, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” you admit sheepishly, clutching the edge of the counter. “I mean, not just for you or anything—”

“Yes, just for you,” Emma interjects, grinning wickedly. Lily nods enthusiastically, her eyes wide and teasing.

You shoot them both a murderous glare, and Bucky’s gaze flickers between the three of you. Then, to your complete and utter shock, he makes a sound. It’s barely audible—more of a huff than a laugh—but you catch it. Your eyes widen.

“Did you—” You lean forward, grinning uncontrollably. “Did you just laugh?”

“No.” He denies it immediately, shaking his head, but his lips twitch like he’s fighting off a smile.

“You did!” You point at him accusingly. “I heard it!”

“Keep dreaming, Y/N,” he mutters, but there’s something softer in his tone now. He glances down at his coffee cup, where your careful handwriting spells out ‘Bucky :)’ with a little smiley face beside it, it’s almost mocking his stubborn scowl.

He sighs—one of those heavy, put-upon sighs that he’s so good at—and looks back at you. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“You have no idea,” you say with a grin. “And one of these days, I’m gonna make you smile for real. Just you wait.”

“Uh-huh.” He nods, raising an eyebrow as if to say I’d like to see you try. “Good luck.”

With that, he turns to leave, but just as he’s about to reach the door, he pauses. You’re still watching him, breathless and grinning like an idiot. He glances around the café, his eyes flicking to the stereo speakers mounted on the walls.

You follow his gaze, and that’s when you hear it: the soft, melodic intro to Sunflower by Post Malone. The lyrics drift through the air, the singer crooning about being left in the dust, a sunflower, and you feel a pang of embarrassment. Of course this song would start playing now.

Bucky’s gaze shifts back to you, and something changes in his expression. He looks at you—really looks at you—as if he’s putting together a puzzle that’s been right in front of him this whole time.

“See you tomorrow, sunflower,” he says, his voice lower, gentler.

You freeze, sure you’ve misheard him. “Wait—what?”

But he just smirks���smirks, like he knows something you don’t—and nods at the speakers. “You beam like one of those. Didn’t even need the song to tell me.”

He turns away, and you’re left standing there, staring at his retreating back as the door swings shut behind him. The café falls silent except for the soft chorus of the song. Emma and Lily stare at you, jaws practically on the floor.

“Did he just—”

“Yeah,” you breathe, still staring at the door. “He called me sunflower.”

Emma lets out a whoop, and Lily clutches her heart dramatically.

“Oh my God, Y/N, he’s so into you,” Emma squeals. “You broke Mr. Grumpy Pants! You did it!”

———

The door swings shut behind him, he makes it a few steps down the sidewalk before he slows to a stop, his coffee cup in his hand. He glances back over his shoulder, through the glass windows, where you’re still standing behind the counter, wide-eyed and speechless.

For a moment, he just stands there, watching you laugh as your coworkers swarm around, teasing you. You’re always like that—smiling, bright, never wavering in your ridiculous attempts to make him laugh. Even when he gives you nothing but deadpan responses and stony glares.

“Sunflower,” he murmurs under his breath, shaking his head. The word tastes strange on his tongue—soft, unfamiliar—but not unpleasant. He lets out a slow breath, and before he can stop himself, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Damn,” he mutters to himself, turning away before anyone can catch him grinning like an idiot. “Persistent little thing.”

He takes another step, his smile growing. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll linger a little longer. See what other terrible jokes you’ve got up your sleeve.

After all, it’s not like he’s in a rush to go anywhere else.

[helluvapoison]

Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!

How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[i]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart

• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt

• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”

• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake

• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings

• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!

• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color

• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more

• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet

• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)

• “A thousand times better, thank you,”

• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily

• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.

You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk

“Go. Away.”

“Yikes, tense much?”

Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare

“Adam!”

• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided

• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation

• He blames you for turning him into a liar

• “If you make it weird—!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”

• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration

• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers

• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”

• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done

• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments

• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her

• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings

• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now

• Lute is diligent in all she does

• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you

• She won’t let you ruin her reputation

• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)

• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done

• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first

• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t

• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt

• You look so damn pitiful!

• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches

• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings

• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain

• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather

• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”

• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”

• Significantly less nervous when she’s done

•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone

• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about

• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore

• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding

• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”

• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”

• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings

• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar

• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?

• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble

• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly

• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe

[zaczenemiji]

Can you do a spiderwomen x kenji sato. Maybe she was sent to retrieve emi and then got caught by kenji, and she was put into a jail like thing. So now she's just stuck there. She starts flirting with him. If yk what i mean 😏👉🏿👈🏿🎀💓🌸

Have an ice cream cone. 🍦

Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Kaiju Heist

Kenji Sato x Spiderwoman!Reader

Word Count: 1,066

Genre/Warnings: Anti-hero, Flirting, Imprisonment, Morally Grey/Ambiguous Reader

Author’s Note: This one was a bit challenging, I hope it’s to your liking. Thank you for the ice cream, I offer you this fic.

MASTERLIST

Your plan was simple: sneak in, grab the baby kaiju, and get out. But things rarely went according to plan.

Let’s begin where it all started—that damn spider.

Long story short, your parents were scientists doing experiments on radioactive spiders. You help in their lab and one day, an earthquake enormous kaiju shook the city, causing a containment breach. The next thing you know, a particularly aggressive spider bit your hand.

Of course, you gained extraordinary abilities. Others would’ve loved this and used them for good—be like Ultraman or whatever. But to you, it’s more like a curse. Seriously, you didn’t ask for this so ain’t no way were you going to become a selfless heroine.

So you did nothing with your abilities; you didn’t hone it whatsoever. You looked at it as if it’s just another arm that grew out of your body. Like grabbing a bag of chips from across the room, you’d shoot spider webs out to get it without standing.

Despite living your life as privately as you could, somehow, the Kaiju Defense Force was still able to find you. So here you are now, in their headquarters.

You stood there, arms crossed. “I’ve told you before, Dr. Onda,” you said. “I’m not looking to be a hero. I just want to be left alone.”

Dr. Onda, chief officer of the KDF, and old acquaintance of your parents, leaned forward. “I know. But this isn’t about heroism,” he replied. “This is a highly sensitive mission and you’re the only one who can pull it off.”

"And why should I care?" you replied coolly. "What's in it for me?"

"Payment, of course. A substantial one. Enough to ensure you can continue living the peaceful life you desire without any further interference from us,” Dr. Onda answered.

“And more importantly, it's a one-time deal. Complete this mission, and you'll never hear from the KDF again."

Your face expressed a guarded neutrality but inside, you found it so tempting—the promise of financial security and freedom from future obligations.

“What’s the job?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Dr. Onda tapped a few keys on his desk console, and a holographic image of a baby kaiju appeared, rotating slowly.

“It’s an entity of importance for the goals of KDF to be fulfilled,” he said. “Recently, it fell into the hands of Kenji Sato. We need you to retrieve it and bring it back to us.”

You studied the hologram, noting the details. "And how exactly am I supposed to move a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby without causing a scene?"

Dr. Onda leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. "We have a special containment unit designed specifically for it. It's portable and can be deployed with your help. Your task is to get close enough to activate it and secure the kaiju.”

"And the payment?" you pressed.

Dr. Onda named a figure that made your eyes widen slightly. It was more than enough to ensure your financial independence for years to come.

"Alright," you said finally. "I'll do it. But remember, this is a one-time deal. After this, I want nothing more to do with the KDF."

Dr. Onda smiled, “You have my word."

You turned to leave but paused at the door, and glanced back. "I hope you're right about this, Dr. Onda,” you said. “Because if this goes sideways, I won't be the one paying the price."

Going back to the present—here you are, in Kenji Sato’s basement, trapped in a cylindrical glass containment unit, similar to the one the baby kaiju you were supposed to retrieve was held in.

A floating spherical robot circled around you. “We knew they would send someone,” it said in a mechanically feminine voice.

Suddenly, it projected a red light over your body, scanning you. “But I didn’t expect a spider-woman.”

You pressed your hands against the glass, testing its strength. "Nice trap," you said. “But it's going to take more than that to keep me here."

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice came out of nowhere. Turning around, you see THE Kenji Sato with an eyebrow raised and his gaze locked with yours.

The biggest mystery that bothered you upon accepting this mission was how the hell did this famous baseball star had a giant baby in his basement.

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, what's the plan, Kenji? Keep me here forever?” you asked. “Or do you have something else in mind?"

Kenji smirked. "Depends. Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" you replied, your tone flirtatious. "I was sent to retrieve that kaiju baby. But now, it seems I've found something else worth my attention."

Kenji's eyes narrowed slightly, "And what might that be?"

You gave him a slow, knowing smile. "You, of course,” you answered. “You're much more interesting than a simple retrieval mission."

Kenji chuckled, though he tried to hide it. "Flirting isn't going to get you out of there."

"Maybe not," you conceded, stepping closer to the glass, "But it does make this whole situation a lot more entertaining, don't you think?"

Kenji took a step closer, his eyes studying you. "You're not what I expected."

You tilted your head, your smile widening. "Good. I'd hate to be predictable."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you sized each other up. Finally, Kenji spoke. "You know, if you weren't here to take Emi, we might have been able to get along."

"Oh, I think we still can," you said, your voice low and seductive. "Besides, I never said I was strictly here for Emi."

Kenji looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "And what if I let you out?"

You pressed yourself against the glass, your eyes locked on his. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can help each other."

Kenji pondered this for a moment before shaking his head. "Nice try,” he said. “But I need to know more about you before I make that decision."

"Fair enough," you replied, leaning back once more. "But remember, Kenji, sometimes the spider catches more than just her prey."

Kenji turned away, a small smile playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."

You didn’t wanna include this in your escape plan because things rarely went according to plan. But in your mind, you noted: flirt, make him fall for you, and escape.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@moonlight-starlight-lady01 @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[darklcy]

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐭.

────˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚─────

‣ vi x reader | arcane masterlist | 1.9k words | enemies to lovers, angst, not super fluffy but happy end, mentions of low self esteem

‣ you assumed she hated you, but maybe it goes deeper than that when a fight has you taking shelter in her childhood home

‣ welcome back vi lovers! the arcane s2 brainrot is here and im back from my hiatus! (i hope you enjoy i may be rough i haven't written in a while)

Vi was too reckless for her own good.

Self-sabotaging can only carry you through so much, her invisible trophy wall of each violent encounter growing by the day. It was frustrating to see her do this, and yet every time a splotch of bruises formed, or a new line of blood dirtied her cheek, the more her perseverance began to crack. 

The pressure was abundant on her shoulders, you could practically feel it yourself. Whether she pulled you in, or you jumped yourself, the burden was also yours to carry. 

Sometimes you wondered if she disliked you. A simple question of well-being, how are you, earned a chilling glare and passive aggressive comments she meticulously crafted to falter your ego. Maybe she thought you were too weak to understand her pain, or perhaps it was the way your concern pushed through whatever bite she spat at you. 

Or maybe she just didn’t like you.

A bit ironic, seeing her sustainable relationship with the Enforcer from topside, the last person you would’ve thought her to be acquaintances with. And if you observed closer, Vi seemed to carry herself differently around her, this Caitlyn from Piltover. 

Though, there was credit to give. Her marksmanship was unlike anyone you’d ever seen in the lanes. She was light on her feet and agile, shooting her targets with perfect precision. No wonder she bore a badge proudly. 

And you were anything but a fighter. Maybe that’s why Vi looks at you the way she does. She’d marked you as a liability, vulnerable to the dangers of the world. It upset you, the way her nose scrunched up with her glares and cold shoulders. 

Who was she to judge you anyway? Every time you choose violence, you come out broken and bloody, so what’s the point? Whatever. Screw her and her opinions. Who the fuck needs her anyway. 

If only you’d fucked off when she told you to. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this mess. Here. In the ruins of Vi’s childhood home, with a bloody nose and bruised cheek. With Vi. Damn your determination to prove her wrong. Damn those thugs for surrounding her completely, for not giving her a second to get back up. There was no stopping what was to come, that was clear the moment your bags were strewn hastily to the ground and shouts were thrown at her perpetrators. A sock to the face immediately took to the ground. The punk wouldn’t stop pounding hits to your face. Damn you, Vi.

Your pain wasn’t for nothing when Vi dragged herself up and freed you from his grip, knocking his ass to the concrete with a bloodied lip. Your vision was blurry as she took off running with her fingers tight around your wrist. When you stopped to breathe is when you realized your surroundings, confirmed with a stone marked with the names Power and Violet. 

The neon sign that previously towered over this ghost town had been toppled over and destroyed; half the foundations of the house torn to dust. The sight made you frown. The only remaining wall was to your left, sheltering a twin sized bed mattress with a tattered sheet on top. A groan to your side beckoned you to look over, watching as she shuffled to the mattress. In the distance, you could make out the faint echoes of yelling, the vast cliffs muffling the words together into a vague holler. 

“It’s probably best to sleep here. They’re not gonna leave anytime soon.”

Vi grumbled, not missing the hint of annoyance coming from her. She was laying on her side now, back to you and arms circling her stomach. You didn’t respond, instead trudging over to the bed and stiffly laying down beside her, back slightly grazing hers.

Neither of you spoke a word. 

It was hard to tell what she was feeling. She never was one to vocalize her thoughts, especially with you. With Caitlyn, maybe.

“...I didn’t need your help.”

Your shoulders tensed up. 

“I had control of everything. You just messed it all up.”

The fabric of the thin sheets acted as a stress reliever as you gripped tighter and tighter.

“...What the hell was I supposed to do? Seriously,”

“Not interfere? Now we’re stuck here.”

Today was not the day to be dealing with her attitude. You were sore, bloody, and in the worst mood possible to be treated like this. It didn’t help that her words stung, the bitterness stabbing into your open wounds.

“Well, maybe don’t pick fights with a group of guys who are clearly bigger and stronger than you.”

She snapped her body up and looked down on you.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You rolled over to your back, glaring up at her.

“They were clearly stronger than you! If I hadn’t shown up who knows what the fuck they would’ve done?”

“Oh yeah? And what good did you do? Take a few swings to the face?”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to be eye level.

“I mean, yeah?! If I hadn’t taken those punches, you would still be on that damn street!”

Vi mockingly put a hand over her heart. “My hero.”

“Fuck off.” You moved to shove her in the shoulder, but her hand snapped around your wrist. Her glare intensified, eyes turning sharp and nose scrunching up. All your anger drowned in a pool of nerves while her fingers tightened, the skin of your hand turning red. She leaned in uncomfortably close.

“You really wanna go there?”

Her eyes bore into yours, not faltering eye contact for even a second. 

You could feel the tension in your neck beginning to ache. You would never win against her, but the thought was intoxicating. After a few quiet seconds, you yanked your wrist back, her fingers marking red indents into your skin. 

She scoffed, nodding her head while moving away from you. “That’s what I thought.”

You wanted to beat her. You wanted to win, just once. 

“What the fuck is your problem anyway.”

Her sharp eyes flickered to yours. It intimidated you every time, like she was the big bad bully in school, teeth grazing her lips as she fought back the retaliation.

You pushed through. “...All I’ve ever done was just try to help. Yet here you are, always pissed at me for no damn reason. What have I done to make you hate me so fucking much?”

Her eyebrows pinched together for a breath of a second. “...Huh?”

You threw your arms up, shuffling forward and standing from the cushion. 

“Every single day, you treat me like I’m some helpless child, like I’m a fucking idiot who can’t do anything. I’m an adult, Vi. Just because I can’t fight doesn’t mean I can’t do anything, for fucks sake.”

She watched you pace throughout the empty house, her eyes heavy as lead. You huff.

“It’s like, every time I try to do anything, you look at me like I’m some stupid child who keeps messing up. I’m tired of it. Either tell me straight up or leave me alone.”

Your spine met stone as you slid down to the floor, her carved name above your head. 

Pulling your knees up, your chin fell to your chest, arms dangling across your kneecaps to finally give your body some rest. Didn’t feel like a victory, but the weight of her burden dissipated just by a little. You’d never snapped back before, never given yourself the strength to stand up to her. Enough was enough. You can’t live like this anymore.

Vi remained quiet, whether she was debating on arguing or not, you didn’t care. The fight of sleep was winning, and your eyelids began to slowly surrender.

“...I wasn’t going to do anything, yknow.”

They snapped back open.

“Earlier, I mean. I wasn’t actually gonna hurt you.”

You don’t move to face her. Vi continues.

“I don’t hate you, you just,” She sighs. “You do things that confuse the fuck out of me, and frankly it pisses me off.”

You scoff. “Like what?” 

“Like jumping into that fight. That was a dumbass move, and you know it.”

“Oh my god. How is that a dumbass move- I helped you out, didn’t I? Besides, I put myself there, why are you the one pissed off? I should be pissed off.”

“Yes. Yes, you should!” She stands up from the mattress to tower over you, her voice beginning to raise.

“You should be pissed off, because you got socked in the face and now, you’re stuck here. Why did you do that? That was so stupid.”

A pinch pulled your brows together. “Obviously I know what happened, I’m literally here. What point are you trying to get at?”

Vi shakes her head and runs a hand through her spiked, greasy hair. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe how dense you are.”

You watch as she saunters over to the same name engraved stone to slide down the rock, her knees knocking with yours. She’s silent for a moment as you stare at her profile, the hint of a smirk coming up her lips.

“It’s stupid of you to concern yourself with me. It’s my problem, not yours.”

You still didn’t get it.

“But why does that piss you off?”

She turns towards you now.

“I know what I’m capable of. I know what I’m getting into. You don’t. You walked into a fight that wasn’t yours to begin with, and in return, you got hurt.”

“So…you’re mad that I got punched in the face?”

A groan leaves her falling chin. 

“I’m mad that you were there to begin with. I’m mad that you got hurt on my behalf, and I’m mad that you’re dragged into this mess. It’s my shit to deal with.”

She pauses to take a deep inhale. “And…I took my frustration out on you, and I’m sorry.”

The tensed muscles of anger faded from her apology, her eyes carrying a softness you’d never seen before. She was being genuine. Open. Vulnerable. 

You sighed with her. 

“Thank you.” 

The quiet that fell over you two now was pleasant. It was nice seeing Vi like this, being used to her thirst for arguing. Your head leaned back against the rock as you let your eyelids close once more. 

“How bad is it?”

Her fingers touch you softly before you peer up at her. She gazes at the blood smeared under your nose with a grimace, her pointer finger stroking the welt on your cheek. 

“It’s fine. Could be worse.”

She shakes her head. “...It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

You scoffed. “It’s completely mine. I’m the dumbass who jumped into a fight that wasn’t mine, remember?”

You smile at her despite the twang in your jaw. Her hand falls back to her side.

“My hero.”

Her lips upturned, the scar on her upper lip flashing itself at you. You don’t miss the way she falters for a moment, relishing the close proximity her face is to yours. Her fingers twitch by her thighs to touch your cheek again, but instead she smacks a hand on top of your head, gently ruffling your hair. 

She stands up to make way back to the bed. “Come to bed. You need rest, too.”

You haven’t moved just yet, the whirlwind of her processing slowly in your brain. Your skin felt hot under your cheeks, but as you shakily stood up to join her, you found the burden of her turning into something else. 

Vi was different, now. Good different. You liked this different. Laying down beside her on the mattress, you don’t turn away from her.

[cherryblossom-enthusiast]

Unrequited (Arthur Morganxf! Reader) - RDR2

A/N: Whoever decided that there could be a button where Arthur Morgan says "good girl" how ever many times you want, I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Synopsis: Arthur loved Mary, didn't he? So, why was it he was spouting all this nonesense about loving you?

Warning/ Tags: Angst. But like SO MUCH FLUFF. Allusions to Sex. Mentions of violence. Coarse language. Kissing. Hurt/ Comfort. Angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 6.1K

Masterlist

Even now, Arthur Morgan was a lovesick fool for Mary Linton.

You shouldn’t have been surprised; you weren’t really. Arthur doesn’t talk about her much anymore, but you’d known him long enough to see he’d never really let that part of himself go. The part of him that loves. That dreams of something better for himself even if he thinks he’s the big, bad, scary man that he is.

And maybe in some aspect, he is that man.

Threatening, bartering, killing. Sometimes you look into his eyes and see nothing but a hard, desolate exterior that wouldn’t think twice about shooting anybody up so long as Dutch told him to do it. But the reality Arthur Morgan doesn’t want to accept is that there’s goodness hiding within the moulding of a gunslinger enforcer.

You can glimpse that goodness when he helps a woman on the road or gives medicine to a man dying from snake poison, and you can especially see it when he’s hauling his ass on his horse to help Mary even when he’s being pulled left and right to finish errands for the camp.

So no, you shouldn’t have been surprised that Arthur would ride out the earliest he could to help his past lover.

But hell, why did it have to hurt you every damn time?

He returns to camp just after the sun rises and light starts to colour the world around you. The air is still crisp, and the heat of the sun is non-existent on your skin.  You’re brushing your horse’s mane when you hear the familiar holler of his voice towards Bill. You don’t look towards him as his horse trots towards the hitching post.

As he dismounts, he greets you, a little pep in the tone of his voice.

It irritates you immediately.

“Mornin’.”

You grit your teeth and put on the brightest smile you can muster. “Mornin’!”

He takes a moment. His eyebrows crease. “Something matter?”

“Uh-?”

“Nothing it’s just-“ he breaks to think about the right words to say. “You don’t look- Never mind.”

This only encourages you to grow your façade stronger. “So,” you start “what’d Mary need this time?” It comes off a little pettier than you intended it to be. He doesn’t deserve that, hell, Mary didn’t deserve your bitterness either, fine woman she was.

That little fact seemed inconsequential however every time he uttered her name and the familiar feeling of jealousy pricked, downright stabbed itself in your gut.

He picks up on your tone, not appreciating it one bit. The displeasure that carves into his expression almost makes you wince and the fake smile that’s plastered on your face twitches the slightest bit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You take the coward’s way out, you always do.

You break eye contact and continue to brush away the embarrasment. You’re rewarded by a loving whinny and it almost distracts you from the ice-cold awkwardness you’ve built around this conversation. “Nothin’, just asking.”

Whether he believes your fib or doesn’t, he doesn’t let it show. But him moving on has you thanking God regardless. He takes out a brush, starting to work on his own mare’s mane. “Good girl.” He whispers. Warmth creeps up your neck as your ears tingle towards the baritone timber of his voice. It makes you lose all self-respect for yourself. He sneaks a look at you for the tiniest bit of time before continuing your conversation. “Her brother was involved in some weird religious group.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep,” he sighs “buncha turtle lovers.”

That gets a genuine chuckle out of you even though you don’t understand it. When you glance towards Arthur’s direction, the indifference has faded away from his features and all that’s left is a sarcastic smirk in its place. All frost has melted away and all too quickly you’re back to the ease that usually came with your dynamic.

You can’t help but throw a snide joke his way. “Gosh, if you’re still this involved in their family drama, you should just make it official and propose again.”

The idea haunts you, of course, it does. But you weren’t going to let Arthur know that. The more you joke, the more it becomes real, the more your true feelings become buried underneath a pile of age-old lies and supportive nonsense. Because at the end of the day, if it would make Arthur happy, you’d keep biting your lip and pushing him towards that happiness. 

Love worked funny like that.

His smirk falls and you’re worried you pushed it a tad bit too far. “I tried once and I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.” He turns almost sombre, like thinking back on old memories that were equal parts sweet and bitter and this bothers you in a different way.

“I sincerely think if you were to propose to her right now, she’d say yes with no questions asked.” You hope he sees the genuineness in your intentions.

He merely gives you a scoff, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah well,” he trails off. “It’d never work out now.”

You decide not to continue pushing. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to dig deeper into the situation and even in your sorry narrow-minded state, you could understand and respect keeping your mouth shut when you needed to. You lick your lips and stick another sickly-sweet smile to your face. “Well, you continue on moping, but I can’t say I’ll be sticking around to see you grumbling around.”

That gets him to snort. “And where will the rough and tough princess be today? Helping a rabbit off the road? Wait-“ he pauses for dramatic effect “Talking to the birds and singing em’ a song?” He makes himself chortle quietly at the idea.

“I have a date.”

That gets him to stop cold turkey. He’s only met with a smug appearance on your end. “You?”

You fake great offence and snap at him. “Hey! Even I can seduce someone if I try!”

“No, I know- I” He appears shaken up about your revelation and for a moment, the tiniest fraction of a second, you could almost see the tensing of his jaw. “With who?”

It’s your turn to leer at him. “Why’s it matter?”

“It doesn’t I-“ he stutters “I just-“

You raise an eyebrow. “Well if you must know, he works at the hardware store.” You say as you recall the day you met the gentleman. “I helped him carry out some tasks and he gave me a daffodil in exchange, of all things.” You pointed at the flower currently tucked in the band of your hat. “Cutest thing.”

“Is that right?” He gruffed out.

“Mhm, so I’m gonna escort him and his granddaughter to a birthday party out in Strawberry.” You giggle. “He said he needed a ‘fighter’ with him because of his ‘old bones’ and ‘lumbago’” You roll your eyes. “Sounds like Uncle.”

This seems to take Arthur by surprise. The dark clouds in his eyes clear out and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Wha-?”

You bite your lip to keep your internal laughter from spilling. “Listen, I offered.” You explain. “He’s been giving me discounts at the store and that girl is just the sweetest thing and well-“ you shrug, “I couldn’t say no like the goddamn softie I am.”

The blades in his eyes dull at the statement. The mysterious scrunch of his shoulders from earlier disappears. He steps away from his horse and walks around his mare to shorten the gap between the two of you. It reminds you that he’s tall, much bigger than you are. “That bleedin’ heart of yours is gonna get you killed one day.”

He mutters his words lightly and yet, there’s some odd sadness you don’t understand attached to it. He puckers his lips as if he wants to say more on the matter yet can’t.

You put on your best Arthur impression, puffing up your chest and scrunching your face. “Well, somehow this don’t suit me, now does it?”

He wouldn’t even have to touch you.

At that, Arthur chuckles deeply. “Nah, you obviously ain’t tall enough to be me, shortcake.” He jabs you playfully at the shoulder and in response, you over-exaggerate the motion of being pushed back.

Though, if he really wanted to, Arthur could have you on your back in less than a second.

Before you can go further down that rabbit hole of thoughts, you carry on with the train of humour. “Besides, heard from Jerry there’ll be plenty of cute fellas around to keep me entertained.”

The clouds start to roll back in his demeanour, dare you say with a touch of thunder this time. “You gonna be looking at other men?” The lightness in his voice is gone, only replaced with the venom from before.

You’re befuddled at the quick-changing atmosphere, but don’t go back on what you said. “All I’ve got to look at are you folks all day,” you quip “A girl needs a change of scenery every once in a while.”

He crosses his arms, clearly not amused. “We not pretty enough for you?”

“Well, you are certainly, but I don’t know about Pearson.”

You purse your lips immediately and silently curse yourself at the admission. That same old shit-eating grin makes a comeback. “Is that right?”

You push his arm back, but unlike him, you hardly get the man to move more than half an inch. “Oh shut it.” You quickly un-hitch your horse and mount her. All you want to do is wipe his lips so it turns back into his usual frown, but you’re afraid you’d just embarrass yourself further. “I won’t be back for a while.” You pull your horse away and pat her on the side. “Didn’t know children’s birthday parties could take so damn long.”

“How long will you be gone for?” He mumbles, voice noticeably quieter.

“However long it takes for a fella to get me off.”

Arthur’s eyes widen. The sun highlights the tips of his ears go red. “Wha- What?” He strained out like he wasn’t quite sure of what he just heard.

A real, true laugh comes out of you then as you spur your horse into action, cantering away from camp. You don’t wait to hear the rest of what he has to say. His flushed look is enough of a prize to take with you.

You replay it all the way to Strawberry.

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

It was well past sundown when you return. Truthfully, you don’t even know what time it is, all you knew was that you were gone long enough that laying down on your cot would be much appreciated by your aching muscles. There’s a light breeze and you take your hat off, shaking out your hair.

The party was a success. Jerry and his granddaughter got to and from Strawberry safely, and really, that was all you could wish for when you were being hunted constantly because of the bounty on your head. You knew you offered, hell you were pretty self-approving when you did. But even then, you made sure to ask if Jerry really wanted a gunslinger as an escort, to which he replied, “Oh, shove it.”

Wonderful man.

The rest of the camp, well those that were here anyways, aside from Bill who was back on guard duty, are already fast asleep. The crackle of the fire is the only sound filling your ears other than your own footsteps.

There’s a small oil lamp turned on in the corner of your vision, brightening the blue hue and you instantly know the only bastard who would be up at this hour.

He’s drawing again. His brows are focused in that way you loved so much and he only looks up from his journal once you amble closer towards him. You almost hate that you’ve disrupted him. You could watch him draw for hours and hardly get bored.

He closes the book and looks up at you. You nod towards his hands. “You’ll have to show me what you’re working on at some point, Picasso.”

Arthur lets a huff through his nose. “Not gonna happen.” He motions you to sit beside him and you take him up on his offer. You catch a whiff of his scent, something like tobacco mixed with old leather. It may have been slightly repulsive to anyone else, but this was Arthur, and all it made you feel was safe. “You was gone a long time.” He points out, a bitter tinge to his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You tilt your head at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Arthur’s eyes narrow. “You just went off and didn’t come back until now.” The bitter tinge morphs into something like annoyance. “I was worried.” He mumbles low.

“Oh, I was fine.” You bump your shoulder against his, but it again, doesn’t make him sway. “Besides, I had a fella with me.”

His hand, the one closest to you, balls up at his side. He’s always been hard to read, but he clearly isn't happy at your revelation. You had half a mind in this late hour to stew in that fact. “Did you now?”

“Sure, one of them single fathers.” You let a small laugh escape you and shake your head, kicking the dirt with your worn-out boots. “Don’t worry, I’d never steal one from a married woman.”

“Was he…cute?” He mutters.

“Never thought I’d hear the word ‘cute’ come out of Arthur Morgan’s mouth.” You catch a glimpse towards him and again note the same pink twinge on his ears, probably embarrassed at being called out on something so stupid.

You finally start to feel that familiar flutter in your stomach hidden behind all that supportive “do what makes you happy nonsense”.

No, you couldn’t have that.

So, you bury it down.

It just became easier that way after all these years.

“That ain’t the damn point.” He continues to grumble. “Was he?”

You ponder the question for a short while. “I mean, he was alright in the looks department, not cute-“

He cuts you off quickly. “Just alright?” He scoffs lightly.

You remember the aforementioned single father in question. His looks are the last thing on your mind. He was alright, not cute, not ugly. Sure, you wouldn’t want to sleep with the man, but-

“He was damn good with his kid, and I thought I’d like to get to know someone like that more.” You reveal through a whisper.

This causes Arthur to frown, but his expression softens. Some of that constant bitterness fades away. “You- “he cuts off and thickly swallows. “You weren’t doing anything strange were you?”

You can feel a prickle of heat in your face at the question. “I mean, we talked sure, but if anything, I just maybe wanted to indulge in a fantasy.” You shrug.

He snaps his gaze back towards you. “A fantasy?”

“What it’d be like-“

God, why was it so hard to say?  “Being normal, having a family.”

The silence that follows is thick and you immediately scold yourself for ruining a perfectly airy conversation just like this morning. You regret it, you do, but you can’t deny how nice it is to finally get that dream off your chest. It wasn’t original, what woman at camp, save Mrs. Adler, didn’t want that stability?

The feeling of riding was freeing. It gave you the grace of flying during a time when you were being held down and that will never change. But nowadays, you find that instead of being held down, you want to be held close. To be called important, matter to someone, so that when you felt lost soaring, you’d always have a beacon home.

“Damn it, you can’t be sayin’ things like that.” He forces out a murmur, a shred of his usual gruff tone.

“You ever think about that?” You tread lightly. “Having kids? Building a farm out somewhere and just-“ a deep sigh escapes you. “living and not surviving?”

It takes him a while to answer your question.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.” The vulnerability colors his voice and it starts to trip you over the edge.

You nod, pursing your lips. “With Mary?” You meekly ask, the crickets chirping making the exchange more awkward. You almost cringe at the silence of it all.

He tenses at her name and it seems like you get your answer.

“With Mary? I mean-“ He tries to dissuade you with absolutely no conviction in his voice. He pauses and curses under his breath. Arthur shakes his head, closing his eyes a moment. “Y’know, it ain’t always about Mary.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Arthur, it’s always been about Mary.” Sighing deeply, you bite your cheek at the acidic truth. “Even when you met Eliza, it was still about Mary.”

He’s taken aback by your statement and a subtle look of frustration overcomes his features. “No, it hasn’t.”

You want to say more, but your sardonic nature halts at his stoic reply. It’s like your heart stops, a coldness and a shrill wake your senses from the inside out. “What?” Your brain halts, all thought ceasing to exist except to process his next response. He tries to avoid eye contact, but you seek his gaze as you tilt your head sideways. “Arthur, what do you mean?” You repeat more sternly, begging to get a straight answer.

He throws you a stick of dynamite.

The smoke clears and all that’s left is the destruction that caters right in the center of your chest.

“What about you?” His voice is hoarse like this is the most difficult thing he’s ever had to squeeze out of his mouth. “What about when it became you?”

Ka-boom.

There’s no longer just a flutter in your stomach, there’s a whole damn circus, and it decides to release the butterflies you worked so hard to keep from their magical chest of caution.

You shake your head and your body goes rigid. You move away from him and stand abruptly as you place your hands on your hips. He’s quick to follow you on your feet.  A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat before you can stop yourself. “Arthur-“

“No, let me finish.” He steps in front of you and holds your shoulders square, turning your body towards him. Even in your bubbling anger, you hate the way your skin immediately melts under his touch. His eyes and actions are pleading for you to stay, so you let him speak, biting your tongue to keep yourself from interrupting. He stumbles over his words. “It’s been you for a long damn time.” He admits. “But I was, I don’t know-“You notice the light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead. “I was scared to say something.”

“If this is some dumb joke-“

“No!” He immediately denies like he’s appalled you would even think of it in that way. 

“Well,” you sneer “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” You remove his hands from your shoulders stiffly and start to trudge away back to your horse.

In the years you’d known him, Arthur had been a force, even more so when he was younger and reckless. He was stubborn as a mule and despite keeping the peace for the most part, there was a strut in his step when he walked because he knew he had the power to change that fact whenever he wanted and get away scotch-free. Arthur was arrogant in that way, always threatening people with a smirk or an edge to his voice.

But this is the first time you see him flinch and it happens to be at your curt words.

A lump catches in your throat, but you’re too annoyed to care, all but continuing the short distance back to the hitching posts. Arthur is hot on your tracks, not letting up one bit. Maybe Bill was overhearing, maybe one of the girls stirred awake. It didn’t matter, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to get the hell away from here.

His catches up to you in no time, his strides much longer than yours. He steps in front of your path and when you make a move to step aside, he mirrors your actions. You click your tongue, glowering at him from beneath your lashes. “Look,” he starts “now I know you may not like me, but I-“

That gets your anger rising to incomparable heights. “Not like you?!” You practically shout out. Looking around, you remember where you are and it’s the only reason your voice lowers. “Arthur, I’ve liked you since the day I met you!”

His eyebrows pull together and his nose crinkles. Arthur’s face morphs into something like agitation from its previous confusion. “So, why all this attitude?”

You’re dejected. “Why all this attitude?” You softly hiss. “Why all this attitude when I’ve loved you for years and all I’ve heard about is Mary?”

Arthur winces. He steps back from you, recoiling like he’s just been shot by a sniper rifle.

Good, you think. He should feel like a right asshole.

“’Why all this attitude’ he says!” You giggle manically at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Where do I even start?” You begin to rant, hands back on your hips to give you some sort of anchor from sinking towards the ground.  “I don’t know Arthur, maybe it’s because while I’ve been here stewing in self-pity, you were always out seeing her.  Maybe, it’s because every time you were young, drunk, and broken, you’d come back whispering her name, mistaking her for me, and I was the one helping you pick up the pieces.”

Your heart was racing a million yards a minute, but you couldn’t stop now. All the hurt and sorry baggage poured out like molten lava, burning with years of intensity. “Or maybe-“ you point an index finger at him and snap sarcastically as if you’ve just discovered a newfound truth “Maybe, it was because I worked so damn hard to tell myself I wasn’t in love with you and you just-“ your voice breaks.

Arthur doesn’t interrupt you at any part of your monologuing. Just like usual, you can hardly decipher his emotions except notice the colour draining from his face.

“So, I’m sorry that I don’t believe you when you say It’s been me.” You continue. “You’ve given me no reason to believe otherwise.”

You sidestep him, not taking a single look back in fear of him seeing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You unhitch your horse, giving her a slight pat before mounting her again.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You don’t see or speak to Arthur for a few days after your argument.

You don’t have much energy to talk to anyone really.

So, you somehow end up back at a familiar field surrounded by evergreen trees and flowers. The crystalline water of the hot springs gleams in your eyes and a chill wind sends shivers up your spine.

You set up camp and stay a while. The serenity of the woods is welcomed. You don’t consider yourself the best hunter, but fishing didn’t require the same amount of dexterity. It's quiet, peaceful even. All you hear is the chirp of the birds and the steady flow of water.

It gives you time to cool off, reflect on everything that’s happened.

The more time you spend out here, the more hesitant you are to leave. It's a nice reprieve from the perils of civilization and you find yourself slipping away, trying to grasp a sense of comfort that's unimaginable for you most days.

Tends to happen when you're an outlaw, you suppose.

But one day, as you’re laying under the shade of a tree, feeling the blades of soft grass beneath you, you hear heavy footsteps starting to approach.

There's no need to bother even acting surprised.

Arthur takes a seat beside you with a deep sigh. He leans back, using his hands to support him.

The both of you are silent for a while, not one peep out of your mouths. You expect it to be uncomfortable but having him by your side brings an ease you haven’t felt in days. Arthur continues to stare up at the sun starting to descend in the horizon and you follow suit, eyes trained to the sky above.

“When I met you, I thought you were nothing more than a naïve, innocent little thing.” He starts, baritone drawl catching you off guard. You don’t realize how much you’d missed hearing it until now. “You were this small girl I needed to protect. “

 You glance towards him and notice the small smile now gracing his lips, his eyes glossed over like remembering memories from so very long ago. “You could barely ride a horse, hell, you could barely mount one.”

The genuine warmth in his voice continues to chip away any frustrations left within you as you recall those days like snapshots in your mind.

“Every day, it was something new with you.” He laughs out, making your heart traitorously skip a beat. “You were learning the ropes of it all, and for a while, you were just a ratty brat who wanted to try on boots that were too big for her.”  He pauses and you look at him more clearly this time, head turned towards him fully in an effort to really listen to what he has to say. “But Mary, she-“ he swallows “I could just turn my thoughts off with her.”

He gives out another sigh. “I loved her, I did.” He admits. “It was so easy loving her at the time. We had no expectations of one another, and then all of a sudden that shifted and I don’t know if I could have been the man she needed me to be.”

You ache but it’s not because he mentions his past lover’s name.

“So I ended up actin’ like a goddamn fool. Boozin’, sleeping around.” He groans, obviously not proud of his previous ventures. “Dutch and Hosea, they couldn’t pull me out of it. I mean, they tried everything, but then-“ He releases a relieved chuckle. “Some woman I’d never met before poured a bucket of cold water over my head and pulled out her revolver, threatening to shoot my dumb ass if I didn’t get up.”

You snort as you’re reminded of that day.

It was dry and humid, overall making it a miserable summer afternoon. Arthur stumbled back into camp smelling like he was doused in moonshine, groggy and slurring his words together. Even Hosea, forgiving as he was, cringed at his sorry state.

You just about had it.

After collecting some from the nearby stream, you pushed Arthur down and doused him in ice-cold water. He sputtered, clearly not happy about what you just did and attempted to get up to confront you. You pulled out your gun before he could and shot right between his legs onto the dirt below. “If you don’t pull your damn weight around here, I’ll make sure the next shot hits!” you shouted, utterly disappointed.

“Good times.” You mutter and Arthur’s smile widens.

“Sure.” He agreed. “When my eyes started to clear, I swear to god I thought I was looking at an angel.”

You had a hard time believing that too. “You looked at a woman who just shot at you and thought she was angelic?”

He tries to find better words. “I guess you looked ethereal all together.” He tries to explain. “Like you were something I’d see at the pearly white gates of judgement.”

You sat amused at his thoughts. “That so?”

He’s finally able to make eye contact with you and revels in that fact. “My vision was still a little hazy and you just stood over me, posture straight, hat on.” He takes his hand and scratches his chin. It’s a tick for when he’s nervous. “Your hair had a glow to it from the sun and your eyes, they just- had this fire in em’ I’d never seen before.”

His shoulders drop and the mood suddenly turns mellow. “When we were ridin’ around and ended up at this clearin’, you just took off without me and I realized how much you’d grown into yourself right under my nose. You didn’t change much, you were still the same old, sunshine, animal-lovin’ princess, but the way you carried yourself? Asserted yourself more?  God-.”

He holds your gaze as he continues and it’s like the world holds its breath for whatever he has to say next. “You rode off, hair wild, not looking back at me one bit and I just couldn’t stop starin’ at you because I thought you were such a damn sight.”

“It made me wonder-“ his words trail off. He stops for a while and you let him. You know how much courage it was taking him right now to admit this to you, letting down those guarded stone walls he loved so much.

You lick your lips, and in an act of your own bravery, you settle your hand on top of his, to which he visibly softens upon. “Made you wonder?” You urge.

“If that’s what Mary felt like, seeing me go all those times.” He finishes. “Because I hated it. I hated every time you got on that horse and left, and it would only hurt less whenever you came back.”

Arthur’s hand starts to clench, but you flip his hand in yours so you can interlock your fingers properly. You give his hand a squeeze and the tension eases off.

“But then I hear you wantin’ to go off with some man and all I could do was mope like a sorry idiot because what if-“ His throat works. “What if you rode off and didn’t come back this time?”

“Oh, Arthur.” You softly coo.

His hand starts to make small slow circles over your hands. “You know I realized something when I last saw Mary that I didn’t before.”

You’re expectant to hear what it is.

“Every time it got a little too rough between us, she was done with me.” He perceived. “I don’t blame her, she deserves someone to make her happy, but I wasn’t gonna change fast enough in her eyes.” He squeezes your hand tighter. “But you- you didn’t expect me to change on a dime. You were patient, you understood that I didn’t want to start a family not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid of feeling that pain again.”

After clenching his jaw, he takes his other palm and cups your cheek with the utmost tenderness a man of his size could muster. “With you, I feel like I can be something else, something good.” You lean towards his touch, begging that if this were a dream, you never wanted to be woken up. His gaze is soft on your features, highlighted by the starlight above.

“I fell in love with you a long time ago Arthur Morgan.” You confess. “I keep running away because no one holds me close enough to keep me somewhere.”

You feel a lump in your throat as you remember all the times you rode off wanting to hear him shout "Wait!", but he never did.

“I know and I’m sorry for that sweetheart, I really am.”

Tears start to escape your eyes and you don’t bother wiping them away. “Loving you hurt so much Arthur.” You whimper. “I started to pack all of those feelings away if it meant I didn’t have to ruin what we already had.”

He presses his rough lips to your forehead and leans back. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He tilts your chin up with a finger. “If I could go back and change the way I handled it all, I would.”

“Give me something to believe that this is real. That I’m not just making this up in my misery.”

Arthur takes a moment to look at you before he speaks. He takes the time to figure out how he’s supposed to approach what he wanted to convey “Close your eyes for just a second.” He mumbled, his voice pleading.

You don’t question it and do what he wants you to do. You fully accept you’d be one of those pathetic individuals who’d follow him off a cliff if it meant staying with him and keeping him safe.

In the darkness, you feel him pick up your hands and place them on his chest. Under your palms, you feel the fast thrum of the beat of his heart and the laboured way his chest rises. You stay like that for a few seconds and match your breathing to his.

“Okay,” his voice cuts through your thoughts “now open your eyes.” You follow his command and you open your eyes to Arthur with a tender expression. You feel his breathing get faster, like he’s almost waiting for a reaction.

You tilt your head. “What?”

Arthur chuckles quietly at your question. “This is me trying to prove I’m serious about you.” His hands are still around your wrists, keeping your palms on his chest in place.

“By what? Letting me feel you up?” You jokingly say. “Arthur, who do you think’s being lugging your heavy ass around when you’re drunk, cause it sure as hell ain’t Uncle-“

Even in the darkness that surrounded you, you can sense his embarrassment. He starts to sputter to quickly get words out “Wha- no, that’s not what- I- you-“ He stutters, clearly flustered at the comment. He sighs. “Now, that’s not what I meant and you know it, sweetheart.”

“So then, what?” You push. You’re not trying to be obtuse in any way, but you want to hear a proper answer.

Arthur swallows awkwardly. “I’m just- I want you to know that my heart beats for you.”

It puts you in such a complete state of shock, it renders you speechless.

Just a couple of days ago, you would have been thirsty to hear those words drip out of his lips, but now that you’ve actually heard him say it, you don’t know how to exactly respond.

“Sweetheart?” He calls, voice laced with worry.

You slowly lean down and press your ear against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He smells like gun smoke and mountain air. The fast bu-dump of his heart is intoxicating, making you break out into a smile.

After a few seconds, he slowly places his own arms around you and pulls you in closer. His hold is firm. Secure. A bandwagon of bandits or federal agents could show up this instant and he wouldn’t let anything or anyone so much as even look at you the wrong way.

He tucks your head under his chin. “I can’t give you a house, or children, or land right now, but I want you to know you have my heart.” He places another soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ve had it for a long time and it’ll always be yours as long you’ll have me.”

“Well, I never thought Arthur Morgan was capable of such sweet words.” You tease.

You feel the rumble of his chest as he freely laughs. “Well, there’s a lot we don’t know about each other it seems.”

You give his statement some thought. “Maybe we can start to find those things about each other out.”

He nods against you. “I’d like that.”

You sniffle and follow him in letting out a laugh. “I’ll end up falling asleep here if we keep this up.”

He snickers at your comment. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you to bed then, huh?” He teases back, his tone light and playful.

You push away from his chest and fix your gaze directly at him, a dazed smile on your face. “I guess you’ll just have to, Arthur Morgan.”

His breathing hitches, obviously not expecting to be accepted on his offer. “Yeah, I suppose I will, sweetheart.”

You place a kiss squarely on his mouth and he reciprocates it almost immediately.

You grasp his face with your hands and do something you’ve been wanting to do since the day you met him.

His lips, though slightly chapped are soft and his stubble that he hasn’t shaved for weeks tickles your cheeks, poking you in a pleasurable way. You taste the tobacco on him and though you don’t smoke, maybe through kissing him you get the appeal. Fingers thread through your braid that’s falling apart by the second.

For the first time, you don't hold the butteflies back.

You part your lips to deepen the kiss and allow him to explore your mouth with his tongue.

It becomes hungry. Insatiable. It's years of pent up frustration and confusion exploding into a possession that consumes your whole body. He groans and you barely notice when he scoops you up, hooking his arm under your legs. “God, we could have been doing this earlier.” He growls.

As you giggle against his lips, Arthur continues to carry you, walking briskly towards your tent.

And the world around you stayed silent that night, except for a few hushed noises.

- - - - - - -

A/N: Yee-haw. Pls interact, I need to to talk to more RDR people lmao. pls.