#unless i turn mean and go down the angst path

[jolalibrary]

keep you close.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader summary: he's pretty sure he's in love with you. not that he'll admit it, acknowledge it. an: angst with fluff, mentions of injury, war-stuff, cheeky stabbings, just cod things. no smut. just feelings. cause I wanted flangst. word count: 3.6k

masterlist for ghost.

Ghost doesn’t think when his eyes land on you. 

He should. 

He knows he should. 

But he fires his gun all the same, not content with the sound each body makes when they fall to the floor. He wants them to fall harder, almost land and shatter. 

He wants them to hurt.

It’s all he thinks as he slides the metal edge along the throat of the last one. The one who is hissing at him in a language he doesn’t even care to translate. 

Ghost cares about one thing, and one thing only: getting that radio message out of his head. 

It’s an ambush. Do not proceed. Get out—

It has been on a loop since he heard it.

Your radio message. 

The one which made Soap shout, calling for you as the static and crackle came back. The sound which made his blood run cold. The one which made him charge across the base grab the person who confirmed the intel by the shoulder, and made them piss themselves. Accidentally, of course.

It had been Soap who suggested sweeping the place, but it hadn’t been far from his mind.

They found your radio stood on, crushed—likely by your own boot. You’d always been thorough—you also usually wiggled your way out of these situations, 

It’s how you’d earned the moniker Mouse to begin with. 

His eyes caught the dried blood, hoping it didn’t belong to you as his flashlight followed its path until his jaw locked, his muscles tensing. 

Your scrunchie. 

That ridiculous one you bought months ago. The one which you’d found hilarious, and he had found anything but. Black, with tiny ghosts on it, for Halloween. No other reason, you’d said with a smirk. Unless you want to borrow it, sir? 

It’s in his pocket now. 

Has been since he found it. 

As he lets the last man fall, he brushes the pocket with his hand before wiping the blood on his thigh, sheathing his knife.

Turning, nodding in the direction of the other men as they checked them as he moved across the room to you, sliding his gun behind his back, and dropping to his knees. 

We bring Mouse back. By any means necessary. 

He’s thankful you’re alive and breathing. Watching as your head tilts —trying to work out who it is. Cautiously, both for the fact he’s considering it and for the knowledge he could hurt you, his gloved hand slides up your cheek, watching you tense before he pulls down the blindfold with his fingers. 

One eye is swollen, horrid, and puffy. Something which makes him want to put extra holes in each of the men for it. But, he can’t take his eyes from the one of yours, which blinks, and stares at him, taking him in. 

“I’m undoin’ this cuff.” 

You swallow, nodding, trying to keep the eye fixed on him. The handcuff releases from your wrists as your arms drop weakly. 

It’s then he can see the bruises. 

The ones which have formed and the ones about too. 

How the colours vary in spots along your exposed arms, neck and cheeks. Dreading to think of how deep they go, how far they spread under your clothes. 

“Sir…” you whisper, his head moving closer. “You’re a piss poor listener.”

“Almost as bad as you, soldier.”

Cautiously, he moves closer, his knees hitting against your legs as his hand slowly brushes over your arm. 

He’s aware the others have their eyes trained on him, Soap giving orders, busying them. It doesn’t stop him from moving his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close until his chest is close to your side.

“Do you want me to close my eye, make it easier for you?” you cough—sounding like a deflated lung. “You seem the type to hate touching people.”

“Enough.” 

It comes out gruff, but he knows that you don’t take it that way. The side of your busted lip twitching as he pulls you over his lap. 

He’s pretty sure it’s the gentlest he’s ever been, even more so with someone. He doesn’t mean to press his forehead against the side of yours. But, he thought he’d lost you. 

The annoying girl who talked too much, who smiled and had no issues with personal space. Unless you were on the battlefield. Then, you were different—quiet, tactile, mouselike. You scurry, you don’t miss, with a gun, a knife or a computer. 

Ghost knew he was fucked before today. 

But, this confirms it. 

The sharp pang in his chest is a horrid, bitter reminder of how fucked he is—especially with how his heart skips a beat when your hand shakes as it brushes against his mask.

He should look away as he lifts you, breaking the stare he has with you, but you move closer, whispering for him—and him alone. “I knew-w you’d find me.” 

He tightens his jaw, feeling a lump in his throat as he gives a curt nod. “Always.” 

“Always,” you repeat softly, eyelashes fluttering, desperate to close.

“Hey, eyes on me,” he says, and you do your best. You hope he knows that. “Good girl.” 

You hear someone shout for a medic, but it’s not him. 

He’s saying very little, just letting his breath dance across your neck and cheek as he holds you to him.

The next time he sees you, he's visiting you when you’re in recovery.

He’s heard from others you’re improving. Soap nudging him, ensuring he’s heard him—thinking he knows more than he does.

He does go, though. 

You’re smaller than him, but you look so much smaller in the bed. Your face finally regaining some colour, an expression not twisted up in pain. The bruises faded, eyes unswollen. 

It’s a welcomed sight after the last time he saw you.

He crosses the recovery room floor, the room slowly emptying around him. He was glad that the rest of the med bay was without patients. 

His chair squeaks with protest when he sits beside you, eyes glancing over your face, over your arms, checking and checking that everything is where it was supposed to be. 

You say nothing. 

He says nothing. 

He just sits, staring at you, letting his eyes roll over your face. You seem to let him, likely basking in the fact that you’re currently not being boiled alive by him. 

It’s nice. Quiet. 

It’s helping to drown out the whimpers and groans you’d been making all the way back here from your injury. 

Until the tension reaches such a height even if you can’t stomach it. 

“What you doing here, Lt?” 

“Ensuring you don’t act recklessly.” 

“I think I can behave for one night.”  

“Doubtful.” 

You play with the sheets on the bed, rolling them between your fingers as he watches you, knowing what’s coming before you’ve even opened your pretty little mouth. 

“I’d behave for you, if you asked.” 

Sometimes, your brashness even surprises him. 

“I have asked,” he says, stretching his leg out as he watches you smile. “You still disobey me.” 

You nuzzle down into your pillow, not taking your eyes off him. 

“Sleep, Mouse.” 

“With you watching me?” 

He clicks his tongue. “Sleep.” 

You smile softer, eyelashes looking heavy. “Okay.” 

Nodding, he interlocks his gloved fingers over his lap. 

You’d been silent. 

Too silent. 

He knew how you got your Codename. He’d read your file, after all. You sneaked through impossible holes figuratively and literally. Price had informed him how good you were with computers, he hadn’t known how good until he read it himself. 

You were good, capable, and able. 

He knew you could handle yourself, which is why it wasn’t that which concerned him. It’s the silence. 

You’ve been quieter overall since you came back—since he brought you back. Since he helped carry you back to the truck till he watched you get patched up. 

Something inside of you, that annoyingly cheerful part of you, had withered. He knew it, Soap knew it. 

“You following me?” 

“Could say the same to you.”

“Can someone even stalk a ghost?” 

You’d tried to hide it, more so from him than the others. Your body trying to twist from him, but his arm had stopped you.

“Something you need, Lt?” 

“No.”

You’d given him a curt smile. “Goodnight then, sir.” 

He didn’t miss the way you added the sir.

Not that he expects he’s supposed to. Shifting his jaw from side to side, having watched you walk down the corridor, not even bothering to turn to look back at him. 

That had been two days ago. 

Today, you had dark circles around your eyes. A tenseness in your shoulders as you were all briefed. 

He waited, seeing if you approached him, and asked him to stay behind—not entirely sure what his answer would be if you requested it. 

But you didn’t. 

It should have been a warning, your demeanour shifting, darkness descending down over you the closer they got to the location. 

“Mouse, you copy?” 

Silence. 

Even to Soap. 

Often, Ghost knew he warranted your anger. 

He was colder with you, more stern. Especially since he’d allowed himself a moment—when he’d been able to hold you, carry you. When he’d felt your heartbeat and watched your eyes fix on him—warming him. 

He had wanted distance and walls. Many of them, more so. 

Now, he wishes he hadn’t. 

Because with Soap, you were light, never ignorant. And maybe he’d have recognised how your anger and hurt had consumed you. That what happened between you being taken and being found had festered and eaten everything good inside of you.

He could relate. 

More than most. 

“Mouse,” Ghost radios, gruff voice and all. “Fuck.” 

He taps Soap, heading in your direction, almost charging. He knew it before he saw it before his foot kicked open the door and witnessed it with his own eyes. 

He even freezes for the briefest second. 

Half impressed with the number of bodies on the floor. 

But then he reacts, hooking an arm under your hips as he both lifts and moves you against the wall. The knife falling from your fingers, clattering against the stone, the only other sound is your panicked breaths and Soap exclaiming, “Steaming bloody Jesus…” as he enters the room. 

His forearm presses into the wall beside your head, caging you in as his other palm presses into the wall next to your hip. 

Because it was the mission to kill him—once they’d got the information. 

The information he couldn’t currently prove you had—but he’d hoped you did. Because otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to contain his anger, his fury. Right now, it simmered, being kept back by that vacant look in your eyes he doesn’t recognise. Not in you, at least. 

You’re not looking at him. Not meeting his eyes. 

Too busy staring at the body on the floor, the one which has scarlet seeping from each hole you’d inflicted with a knife. His knife. 

“Mouse.” 

You don’t move, staring as if transfixed in the knowledge he’s dead. 

So he whispers your name. 

Your real name. 

Your eyelashes flutter into a blink, head-turning, finally pulling from the man who kidnapped you on the floor. 

“Got the drive,” you say in a tone void of emotion. 

Ghost didn’t want to shout, he didn’t want to scream at you, but he did all the same. 

Both in anger that you disobeyed an order and in a panic because he couldn’t stop the way his mind unravelled when you didn’t respond. 

That it took him back to that moment all over again. Where you were taken from him. Where he lost you. Where he should have protected you. 

“You wanna explain what the fuck happened back there?” 

You don’t look at him, folding your arms over your chest, suddenly finding the floor interesting. Pressing the sole of your foot against the wall as you leant, seemingly unbothered.

“That’s an order, Soldier—“

“I collected the information, and I stabbed him. Mission complete. Sir.” 

Sir. 

Fucking sir. 

He hated how it made him hard. Little bitch. 

“You disobeyed a direct order—“

“—The mission—“

“—You were supposed to wait for backup.” 

“I couldn’t risk it.” 

He rounds on you, forehead pressing against yours. “You couldn’t risk it?” 

Your eyes don’t soften. They hold his gaze, full of fire, ash and destruction. “Well. We’ve both seen the evidence of bad intel, haven’t we?” 

He stills. 

Blinking, staring into your eyes, seeing the darkness still swirling. The anger has lessened but still remains. 

“You need to let it go.” 

“I need to… what?” You look hurt, more than he thought you could, and then it vanishes, swept away by anger. “…fuck you, Ghost.” 

Moving from him, turning your back on him 

“Fuck me? If you continue down this path—“

Then you turn, your eyes burying into him. “It’ll what? Keep me up at night? Consume me? Well, guess what, Simon, it already has.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, a tremor to your outstretched arm before you snap it back to your side. “For days, they asked me who we were. They had ideas. They did… inklings. But, they… they knew my fucking name, Simon. They…told me what they’d do, and I had nothing, not a single thing to drown it out as they described all the ways they’d kill Johnny, how they’d break Gaz, how they’d hurt…” 

You. 

The unspoken word hanging in the room. 

“I got it before, I did,” you say, words shaky at your almost declaration, “but I understand why you wear that mask—why you keep people out…” 

Your eyes fill with tears, one’s he wishes he could wipe away before they even meet your cheeks. 

“People you know can hurt you the most… right? That's what you said.” 

His head reeling back an inch, but it feels like he’s been hit. And then you leave, storming out of the room, and he doesn’t stop you. 

Because he knows he shouldn’t. 

Because you’d called him Simon. 

Not Ghost. 

He hates that you’re not here. 

You’ve been avoiding him. Outside of briefings and necessity, you’re nowhere else to be found. 

The rest of them are around a table, beers in their hands. His mask lifted just enough to enjoy his—if it didn’t taste like nothingness. 

Because there were no kind eyes on him. No jesting coming from a soft, sweet voice. 

Especially right now, when it’s needed as they discuss who they’re currently fucking their fist over. He hears someone ask him, something he ignores. 

And then Soap speaks for him. “I think Ghost here has his eyes on—“

“That’ll do.”

The others snigger, mumbling about getting some air as he cracks his neck. Hoping if he ignores Soap enough, he’ll vanish too. 

“Talk to her.” 

Ghost rolls his head on his shoulders, meeting his sergeant's expecting face.

Soap slaps his hand on his back. “Trust me, Lt, talk to her.” He tries to think of something, anything, to respond with. He hasn’t got anything until he continues, “Didn’t think you had a heart.” 

“A cold one. I have a cold one.” 

Soap smirks. “I doubt it’ll remain that way.” 

It doesn’t take him long to find you, seeing you huddled over papers and a computer. 

He considers watching you, but he steps in before he’s caught, offering you a mug, one you stare at suspiciously before taking it. 

You prefer a milky tea, one sugar. 

A person after his own heart. 

Right now, he imagines you need something different, so he chose coffee.

“What’s this?” 

“A boost. You need it.”

“Thanks?” 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

Letting himself see how dark the bags under your eyes have gotten. 

“You’re not sleepin’.” 

“Can’t.” 

He taps the desk with two fingers, your eyes lifting up to face him. Slowly, he retracts his hand, holding your stare as he takes his glove from his hand. He knows his sleeve has risen, the ends of his tattoo showing as he offers you his hand.

“You made me a drink, and now you want me to what, leave it?” 

Slowly, he nods. 

Your huff sounds before you stand, slapping your hand into his. It isn’t until your fingers are in his does he watch your eyes flicker, realising that you're touching him—really touching him. 

“Ghost…” 

“C’mon. Now.” 

He doesn’t let go or lessen his hold, not even when you slide your fingers between his. Not when everything inside of him tells him to run, to tell you to run. 

His mouth doesn’t open, it remains shut as he brings you to his room, opening the door, letting it swing open before he lets his eyes meet yours. 

Letting your eyes take it in before he nudged you forward. 

“Ghost…” 

“Simon,” he says gruffly. “My name is Simon.”

He shuts the door slowly behind the two of you, releasing your hand, moving it to his neck. 

Your eyes follow him, the air thickening—he can feel it. The hairs on the back of his neck standing, the ones on his arms standing. He’s even sure time is ticking slowly. 

Especially when he begins to slide his mask up, slowly showing you his chin, his cheeks, and his nose. 

Your lips parting, mouth falling open as he pulls it off that last bit. Nothing hidden, not from you. 

Swallowing, you make a noise, a squeak as if you’re about to say something, before clamping your mouth shut. 

“Hi.” 

Your lips twitch. “Hi.” 

His fingers brush yours ever so slightly, forcing your eyes to dip before landing back on his with so much adoration—he’s not sure how he deserves it. Any of it.

“What does this mean?” 

“It means you go to sleep. Here.” 

You raise a brow, and he almost smirks. Almost.

“Not like that.” 

Shrugging, you smile. “Coulda fooled me.”

Sighing, he lets go of your fingers. “You can’t sleep because you’re alone. But, if I’m here—“

“You’ll keep the ghosts away?” 

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. 

“Anything else this… declaration means? 

“Means you can trust me.”

He watches your head tilt, a scrunch to your brows and your forehead as you look at him. “I trusted you anyway.”

“Then get in bed.” 

He wonders if your cheeks are warm if they’re full or blush. More so when your eyes land on the floor, and he turns his back, moving to his things, finding you a t-shirt. 

On you, it’ll bury you. 

Which makes it perfect, just as perfect as the sound of you undoing your belt is to him and the faint sound of your trousers hitting the floor. 

“Here,” he says, holding the T-shirt behind his back, not wanting to look. 

Not even when he feels your fingers slide down his forearm, over his ink. When he feels your index and middle slide along his pulse, over his wrist and palm before taking it. 

It’s not until he feels your hands on his sides does he turn, your eyes looking up at him—somewhat close to the eyes he knew, the ones which first had his heart pulsing furiously as it is now. 

“Do you snore?” 

“Don’t think so.” 

“Sleep naked?” 

“Not all the time.” 

“Good,” you comment, loosening your grip as he turns to face you. “Hate for you to have gone to all this effort to not let me get a wink of sleep.” 

The double meaning of your words isn’t lost on him. 

Especially when he sees the twinkle in your eye, the grin desperate to blossom over your lips. 

“Unless…”

“Another time,” he says, even if he hates himself for it just a bit. “Now, get in bed.” 

You nod, smiling, “Yes, Sir.” 

Fucking hell. “Less of that.” 

“Any reason?” 

He snorts, turning to watch you climb into his bed, slowly pulling his T-shirt over his head, hearing you inhale as if your mouth was next to his ear. 

“I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman.”

He flicks the light off, wondering if your heart is hammering as much as his. Each step towards you feels like a mile, but he’d do it again and again. Feeling for your hand and the sheets you’re offering him, sliding in beside you.

For a moment, he’s tense. 

Just as you are. 

Especially as his bare legs find yours, your back to his chest, hair tickling his nose. He waits, letting you make the first move for comfort, feeling you breathe heavily before shuffling against him. Fingers trying to keep your hair out of his way, pulling it, twisting it.

And he remembers sliding his hand under his pillow, pulling it out slowly, the fabric rolling between his thumb and finger before he finds your hand over the sheets. He feels you tense, likely recognising it instantly, slowly taking it from him as you move, turning to face him.

Even in the darkness, he makes out your features. 

His hand reaches up, touching his chin before fingers spread up your cheeks. His thumb rolls over your bottom lip, wanting to kiss you desperately. 

“You found it?” 

He says nothing.

“You kept it?” 

He breathes out. “I did.” 

You must feel his heart hammering. You have to. 

Your body slowly comes down, arms sliding around his chest before hands find themselves on the back of his neck. 

His head turns as you let hug him, as your body says everything without so much as speaking. And all he can think is he’s an inch away from your lips. 

He’s within reach. 

He could. He should. 

“Simon…” you whisper. 

His throat goes dry, and then you kiss him. 

Silencing his mind, silencing everything that doesn’t matter—doubt, worry and the sound of that radio message—as he runs his hands over his T-shirt that covers your body. 

Pulling you close. 

Keeping you close.

I’m with you : read part two

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Pt. 2)

Part 2 is here! :) Here you can read part 1.

Just a little angst before we get to the good stuff.

It’s been 10 days. 10 days of agony, of turmoil and regret and anger - so much anger. I’m the only third year left. I’m expected to carry on my co-section leader responsibilities as if the absence of Garrick is a minor inconvenience. The early sun rises with a flourish of pinks, reds and oranges and all I can do is relish in this fleeting moment of peace. 

No one seems to care or notice that they aren’t back yet. I can’t help but seek comfort from Rathnait, my only anchor since the moment we left Basgiath. A warmth of what I could only describe as security floods down the bond. 

We can’t worry about things that haven’t been confirmed yet, flare. She knows my true questions, the things that I can’t bring myself to ask or think about. You must think about today, where we will go. Graduation day. I would be assigned to my outpost today, and by this evening I would be gone, my journey at Bagaith over. Turning away from the river, I make my way towards the flight field. The few third years left of this school congregate, awaiting as Colonel Aetos and Commandant Pancheck begin the assignments. 

“Congrats on graduating, Section Leader. It is a shame that Wingleader Riorson and Section Leader Tavis aren’t here to accompany you.” Colonel Aetos nearly sneers at the mention of Xaden. The obvious disdain is unsettling as he rifles through different papers. “Ah yes, your assignment. Due to your signet and the savagery of your red swordtail - you’re being assigned to the eastern wing…specifically, Samara.” He grins at me, almost maniacally as if the post is a joke. Rathanit snarls in my mind, rage igniting the very blood in my veins but all I can do is take the papers from his hand, saluting in acknowledgement. 

Where are you, Ray? My hands tremble, crushing the papers beneath my hold as I make my way quickly towards my room. 

I’ll be there soon, flare. Unless you need me now? 

I halt in the middle of the empty hall, knowing in a matter of moments the rest of the cadets will be awake to get into formation. Pressing the heels of my hand into my eyes, I can’t help but rest my back against the cool stone. 

Samara is the front line. Trying to get the ever rising beat of my heart under control, I must not panic. I am a rider. 

Are you afraid, flare? I shudder at her question, not wanting to admit the fear, the panic. But I know that she can feel everything, hear all that I think. 

They aren’t here. He isn’t here. A whimper escapes my lips, the reality of it all just crashing down like rubble. I will be going to Samara, there is no avoiding it, there is no changing it. While I had spent years trying to survive Basgaith, I would be sent to one of the most active posts in the region. I wouldn’t see Garrick. 

“Section Leader? Ar-are you ok?” Dain Aetos stands before me, hands out as if approaching a scared animal. “We need to get to formation,” I don't hate the kid, knowing that following the straight and narrow path is the life that is meant for some people over others. However, that doesn’t mean I want him to see me having a mental breakdown. Giving him a small nod, I manage to get myself to stand before fully looking at the Squad Leader. Something’s wrong. My own senses are beginning to go haywire. My signet. Only Xaden and Garrick knew. Command and Bagaith are under a different impression as to what it is. The manipulation and detection of emotions however was a daily venture, there was no turning it off, there was only controlling it and questing it and right now Dain Aetos was a mess. 

“I would ask you the same thing, what’s wrong?” I question him, dusting off my flight leathers. I don’t miss the way he flinches at my question, his hesitancy. “Do I have to give an order to know?” 

Taking a deep breath, he stands tall despite the sorrow in his eyes, “Xaden and the rest of the squad he took with him are being declared dead at formation.” I startle myself at the immediate sob that escapes my lips. “Leadership has been looking and there is no sign of them.” Feeling the agony of his own loss, it feels as if a tidal wave has pulled me under. The roaring from Rathnait in my brain feels as if it will explode any second. Dain’s grief, his regret all barrel into me with no filter, no shield. Rathanit’s confusion and rage down the bond. My own sorrow, my own heartbreak. There is no stopping it. There just is feeling it. Unaware of the stream of tears that roll down my face, the taste of salt jolts me out of the shock, the horror. 

“Round up everyone, squad leader. I’ll be at formation in a moment,” I murmur, the assignment papers feeling like large weights in my hand. He turns away to head towards the Quadrant, “Dain,” I call out, sounding like a garbled mess. “Thank you for telling me.” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods. 

My flare. I hear her call out, though to reach out seems like so much energy, all I can do is let her in with no barriers, allowing her to be there in the comfort of my mind. I’m coming, flare. 

Standing at the bottom of the stone dias. Everyone in formation, I don’t bother to look around. There is no one here to look for anymore. There is no Wingleader, there is no co-section leader - there is just me alone at the front. I didn’t bother to look at my squad, not being able to look at their questioning looks. I was known for being put together, not a hair out of place, no rumpled leathers, no dirt unless necessary. I’m sure the current state of me was a shock. Strands of hair fell in front of my face, eyes dry and cheeks raw from the tears. 

Captain Fitzgibbons overlooks formation, reading off the death roll. “Violet Sorrengail.” A moment of silence as all eyes look to the stoic face of General Sorrengail. “Garrick Tavis.” My heart feels as if it bleeds on the very floor I'm standing on, flinching harshly at the reading of his name. “And Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice rings out echoing around the quadrant. “Well this is awkward,” a voice calls out. Gasps are heard around the quadrant, even command seems unsettled by what’s happening. My knees seem to be locked in place, unable to turn around and see what is going on. My breaths turn into small gasps of air - no no no it can’t be, I’m dreaming. Dain said. I need to wake up. Heavy footsteps approach behind me, and two individuals take up position on either side of me. A calloused hand brushes against my own.

[softrozene]

Comforting Female Reader Who Has Experienced an Assault

Anon asked: Hey honey, I was too shy to ask off of anon... But do you think you could do some HC’s for the boys helping a f!reader who was previously sexually assaulted? I am having a really tough time right now. ( I am handling it all and I have people helping me too) it’s just really weird for me to deal with I guess Thank you sweet Ro!

rdr2 masterlist

I’m sorry to hear that stuff like that is happening to you but if you ever need someone to talk to just to vent or for advice you are always welcome to talk to me since I have experienced past sexual assaults and harassments. It’s always a no-judgment zone when talking to me fyi. Just remember everyone processes it differently but you are not alone and hopefully the people helping you are a strong support system.

I love you anon and I hope these make you feel better.

 I chose almost all the males I usually write for because they would all kill/die for the ones they love. 

Originally published on February 11, 2020

*Speaking to everyone who reads this: These can be taken as platonic relationships or romantic. Just know I am not romanticizing the issue. There will be solid advice. There will be dumb advice. These are after all my headcanons for how I think they would treat the issue with a fem!reader (I think with a male!reader they would act just a little bit differently. This is a sensitive topic so please read the warnings and just remember you are all loved.

Warnings: Angst, PTSD, fluff, mentions of past sexual assault

Hosea Matthews-

He would hear this from you directly

  Would be shocked before he drops everything in order to listen to you

  If you don’t wanna talk about it he won’t push you but he will hint that it may make you feel better

  If it happened all in the past he would piece together some of your tendencies that relate to the assault, what you tend to avoid and whatnot, and basically, he’ll help you so nothing at the camp will trigger you

  If it happened more recently he will try and urge you to tell him who it is so he can sick the boys on them, without your knowledge of course

  He’ll just say “It’s been taken care of Sweetheart. No need to worry about it.”

   Hosea is the most caring one out of them all and will constantly check up on you, see how you are doing/feeling, will get you whatever you want whenever you want, and more importantly will always put others in their place if he feels they are getting on your nerves or are crossing boundaries

  If you do daily talks he’ll always ask if it’s okay to hug you or hold your hand because he wants you to know desperately how much you mean to him and the gang

  If he sees you heading down the wrong path, he will pick you up without a doubt. Orders you to take care of yourself and if you don’t listen to him, he will send Arthur and John the most awkward boys in the universe to go and talk you into doing the stuff he told you to do

  He’ll do about anything you want in order for you to feel better and get past this traumatic experience

  “We can’t change what happened to us. That’s all in the past. However, we can change how it affects us now. How we’ll go on in the future. Turn this into something to make you stronger.”

  Dutch Van Der Linde-

  Will deadass go on a rampage after learning you’ve been assaulted

  All you have to say is that you got hurt by someone- He doesn’t need any details unless you want to fill up the rage he already has

  He will hunt down whoever they are no matter where they are with most of the gang by his side, it doesn’t matter how long ago it was, he wants to see that bastard/bitch who did this to you in the ground

  “And they will surely be dealt with” literally will be his words- Anyway after they are dealt with will he only focus on you

  He’ll be careful with you and probably the most annoying thing he can and will do is, treat you like glass

  It doesn’t matter anymore if this was in the past or more recently, he will make sure someone he trusts is by your side and preferably a woman so probably Miss Grimshaw

  Eventually, he will realize that he is overdoing it but he will give you one of his speeches saying it’s only because he worries about you

  You just gotta be upfront with him, tell him what you need and what you do not need, and he will fix himself after apologizing

  Expect a lot more gifts from yours truly

  By a lot, I mean a lot

  He will make it rain jewelry for you if it means you know how much he cares

  Can’t say that about the money though

  If it still lingers over you he will without a doubt, try and help you through the process of at least accepting what happened well happened

  “Try and focus on the now and make yourself better for the future” Or something along those lines would be his advice

  Arthur Morgan-

  Is a saint no matter what he says

  You would have to tell him face-to-face and rather bluntly that you were assaulted. If you hint at it, he may take a moment before he realizes what you mean

  He won’t act fast but he will sit down with you and have a talk with you

  Of course, he wants to act, his blood would be boiling at the thought of someone even touching you without your consent but for your sake, he will take a breather and wait until you are done venting to him

  He would treat you the same

  He wouldn’t necessarily tread lightly on certain topics unless he sees that it makes you uncomfortable and omg if one of the boys dares to mess with you he will be on their ass in a hot second

  Basically, he may hover but he won’t realize it since he’s treating you the same way as always

  It’s up to you as well to decide the fate of who hurt you

  If you want them dead, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you want them beaten, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you want them threatened, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you don’t want anything done, he’ll just keep an eye on you and make sure you are faring well

  When he’s not at camp he’ll have Hosea, John, or one of the ladies keep an eye on you

  He makes sure that you know you can bother him for anything, he may be grumpy about it but he’ll do it just for you

  If you’re having nightmares or just can’t sleep you can sleep on his cot and he’ll stay with you until you do fall asleep

  If nothing works to make you feel better you bet your ass he’ll take you with him, on rides to town just to get you out and about

  His last resort is letting you see his journal- That’s how you know this boy genuinely cares about you because no one touches the journal

  “People are not so kind. But you are. What I’m tryin’ to say is don’t let that bastard/bitch put out your light. I care ‘bout ya.”

  Charles Smith-

  He would be the most understanding like Hosea

  Would make sure that you are in a safe space mentally before he allows you to vent

  Will reassure you that you are safe no matter what but he will want to get back at this person

  It usually goes against his code for killing but he cares about you and no one deserves to get hurt like that so he will take time out of his day (probably go gather Arthur) and go and kill this person

  Whether you wanted that or not he would have convinced you this person would probably have another person to prey on soon enough

  Speaking of, he will remind you that you are not a victim but a survivor

  He’ll be there for you all the way

  If you need some company he’s there for you even if you don’t want to talk

  Charles can and will be your rock if you need it

  He’ll help pick you up and depending on if it’s okay with you, tell a selective few what happened so they can also help you

  It may be cheesy but I can see Charles in this scenario making you say positive things about yourself in order to ward away the negative thoughts

  “Repeat after me. I am a strong woman. I am resilient. I am a tiger.”

  May or may not be making fun of Mr. Pearson at the last one in order to get you to laugh

  Either way, he’ll make sure you to feed you positive lines almost every day

  If you need to get out he’ll take you on nature rides and remind you out beautiful the world is despite how cruel the people are

  He won’t exactly hover but he will be constantly glancing your way at camp to make sure you are all good

  Tells you venting is actually good without needing to hear the advice

  I forgot to mention it in the others but, all these males will make sure you know self-defense. They give you tips and tricks with each weapon of their choice that way no one will mess with you again

  You can always rely on Charles to give you good advice though. Understands that sometimes you just need someone to rely on so you know you’re not alone

  “I know you. You are strong and beautiful. Don’t give anyone the power to doubt yourself. Only you have that power.”

  John Marston-

  Is fucking awkward when it comes to this kind of thing

  He will 100% see red as soon as you tell him and no matter what no one but Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea can stop him from going after the person who hurt you (and those three will join him tbh)

  He is not the best to talk to about this so he’s okay if you just need the company

  May take you to a saloon and get you a drink or two just to ease you, will not give you more

  Honestly, I see John as completely awkward and not knowing what to do for this situation. He’s at a loss and if the problem (the person) has been dealt with wouldn’t know how to help you

  He would go ask the girls how to cheer you up or make you feel better, go to Hosea would be a better option and would finally just ask you what you need and how so you don’t get stuck in your PTSD

  Though he may understand but not in the way that is relatable. He’ll understand the nightmares and such but he won’t understand if you fear that person because his situations have always been near death

  He will desperately try to understand you though

  Will send Jack your way if that kid can cheer you up

  “Well fuck, y’know I always have your back. Just- I um don’t let ‘em get to you.”

  Javier Escuella-

  This man would have no idea what to say at first

  It’ll take him a minute to register before he asks if he can hug you- mostly to reassure himself that you are physically safe

  Once that is done and over he will get straight to business and ask what you need

  Murdering the person would cross his mind tbh but he’s too focused on you that he won’t ask till much later

  If you need to clear your mind he’ll take you fishing, show you how to fish and have Hosea come along so it’s all positive vibes

  He’ll write some songs and lullabies for you and serenade you to show you how much he cares

  I honestly think Javi bottles everything up when it comes to himself so he’ll be more than happy to talk to you about your PTSD or share stories and even his own past if he deems it right by you

  He would gut whoever you want like a fish for you btw

  “Hermosa, you’re strength inspires me”

  And it truly does

  It takes a lot of guts to admit and accept what’s happened and even more to want to reach out for help

  Javier would admire that and remind you whenever you need to hear it

  Sean Macguire-

  Ahaha if you thought John or Dutch had a short fuse for this- The minute he finds out he’s already spouting nonsense of them meeting their demise

  And if you allow it or they are not dead he will surely make them have a terrible death

   He would risk getting caught by bounty hunters again if that were the case

  As for comforting you, this boy doesn’t exactly know how to do that

  He laughs off his own traumatic experience so he’d probably be trying to get you to crack a smile or drink with him

  Homeboy would try and get you to kill some bloody people for the fun of it ngl

  Hopefully, his energy will rub off on you

  I don’t really see him as the sitting down type but if he cares about you he is more than willing to listen to you and also more than willing to give you unwanted advice and a shite ton of his opinions

  “Yer fuckin’ priceless. No mutherfucker hassa right to touch ye.”

  He will end the speech with something gory I bet

  *I was going to add Keiran and Lenny but I ran out of ideas but I hope the lovely lads I did write and their reactions/comfort help anyone who needs it

[yoongihan]

A Big Neon Sign - LYB (Felix)

pairing: lee felix x femreader

genre: fluff, smut, f2l, a little angst (barely)

word count: ~3k

rating: M (MDI please)

warnings: some language, so much kissing, ppl definitely getting turned on and then talking about it and feeling it, reader is implied larger than felix, some self-pity, i think that’s it?

a/n: so, this kinda feels like it’s set in the same world as ‘i adore you’ and with the familiar motif of a sofa as our main location. don’t ask me why this is a thing. it happens to be a thing. big thank you to @jl-micasea-fics​ for beta-ing this, @seokjinger-ale​ and @hannahbee12719​ for reading it. i hope it’s enjoyable to you, dear reader.

masterlist

--------

“I’m sorry.”

Felix lets out a sigh in such a way that his fringe flutters from it. You want to comment on it, just that his hair is getting so long, but you know that it’ll take your thoughts down a dangerous path.

You know better. You’ve been avoiding that path for awhile now.

“I told you,” he says softly. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I do,” you reply, your hands lifting up from your lap to emphasize whatever words pour forth. “I have to apologize because if I was listening to myself as a friend, I would be tired of this topic too.” You search out for something to grab in the air in front of you. But there’s nothing. Maybe you need to steal (borrow) a plushie from Felix’s collection on the window seat in his bedroom.

You and Felix often hang out at the apartment he shares with Seungmin and Changbin. Your place is smaller, and unless he wants to curl up on your twin bed with you, to watch something on your five-year-old laptop…

Yeah, no. No putting Felix anywhere on your bed.

Changbin and Seungmin sometimes join in on the food and frivolity (Felix and you enjoyed watching Hallmark movies that you could easily deconstruct with your English Literature degree, but you didn’t. Because they made Felix smile and gave you faint hope), but tonight the two of them had gone to a party you all had been invited to.

“But you like people,” you explained to Felix earlier. “I can easily go and find a corner to peoplewatch from and you, Bin, and Seungie can connect with the human race.”

Felix had just smiled at you before waving his roommates on, telling them that he just wanted to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with you.

Popcorn, both butter and kettle, is popped with cans of Chilsung to make up your dinner for the evening. The movie matters only in that it isn’t one either of you have already seen.

“So, what you’re saying,” Felix begins, “is I’m a better friend than you are?”

You laugh even though it’s probably sad-sounding.

“That was never a question, Lix.”

He sighs again and scoots closer to you. You’re pressed against the arm of the sofa so hard that it kind of hurts, but you can’t relax.

“I know we don’t believe this crap.” You point at the tv screen as the credits still roll from whatever ‘set in a small-town, so person learns what happiness and love is’ movie you’ve both just watched. “Or I don’t. But I still kind of do. Then I get depressed that it hasn’t worked out like that. Then I’m angry at the movie for being a lie and–” You cut yourself off. “God, I’m sorry.”

His arm pushes against yours lightly as though reminding you that he’s here.

“It’s okay.” He links his arm with yours before resting his chin on your shoulder. You take a deep breath.

“Is it? My track record is so bad. I mean, not having an actual relationship since sophomore year of high school, one that lasted only three weeks. I’ve kissed more than I’ve dated, which seems like that should be the opposite. Guys I’ve kissed never wanted to date me. Guys who felt like they might ask me out, only shrugged it off like I imagined the signals, which I know I have a good imagination, but I don’t think I’m that off at reading people. Maybe I am. Maybe I am actually repulsive romantically, but no one has told me.”

He ‘tsks’ at you. “No.”

You shake your head, staring at your hands which have returned to your lap because you’re afraid if you grab onto Felix, you won’t let go.

“I know I’m not repulsive. I know I’m not a horrible anything, but Lix, we’re looking at the evidence here. I don’t get asked out. And I only get propositioned by someone under the influence of alcohol or drugs, or a combination. None of that makes a good case for me having a shot at a sweet wholesome romance.”

He hums softly as though he’s considering your words. Felix is a lot quieter than you, only speaking up when needed in big groups, or just one on one. He tends to make his thoughts better known through his very expressive face and skinship.

It’s a good match for you as you talk too much and are often touch-starved.

“I can see your point. You know, if this was a trial and all your evidence was objective truth.”

You turn to look at him, forehead scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean? You think I’m lying?”

He smiles at you, still attached to your arm. “No. I’m just thinking that you only know one side of the story, right? You don’t know who liked you but was too scared to ask you out. Who considers it, but resists because of their own track record.”

You open your mouth to protest, then close it. “Okay. You’re not wrong.”

“And this isn’t a trial.” His hold tightens on your arm, scooting even closer. “This is life. Which doesn’t follow any rules, or formula.” He nods toward the television which has now moved on to the next movie of cheesy dialogue and picaresque landscapes. “Not every rejection or missed opportunity means that something is wrong with you.”

“But some of them do.”

He rolls his eyes at your insistence. “Maybe it’s nothing wrong with you. Just something that doesn’t match with someone else. That’s not anything on you.”

You smile and look back down at your hands. “I am sorry, though. You probably wanted a fun, light evening of snacks and breezy romance and I got all moody and shit.”

His arm unlinks from yours and you find yourself enveloped in a Felix hug. Your eyes shut tight because you will not cry, and you find yourself adjusting so you can hug him back.

“All I wanted was to hang with you,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “At a party, watching a movie, laughing or crying, or both. It really doesn’t matter.”

You bury your face in his shoulder.

He rubs your back. “It’s okay to be sad about it. Just don’t let it turn into a big, neon sign that you think defines who you are, or what your relationships will be like.”

You sniffle because you are leaking tears. He draws back and lifts up your head in his hands.

Felix has the prettiest brown eyes. You don’t know what shade of brown they are because it’s just more of how those eyes look at the world around him, how he looks at his friends, at a squirrel in the park, at a bouquet of flowers.

He’s really the most beautiful person you know.

His thumbs brush away the escaped tears, but he doesn’t let go of your face.

“You aren’t repulsive. In any way.”

You breathe in shakily. He smells more like popcorn this evening than his usual citrusy lavender (from a combination of his laundry detergent and the lavender plant he likes in his room to help him sleep).

“Thanks.”

He’s scanning your face as if making sure you believe him. He leans in so his nose touches yours.

“I don’t blame those guys for kissing you, you know. I bet it’s nice kissing you.”

You blink about four times as his words settle in your brain.

“Um, same goes,” you reply. Maybe this is a compliment-giving battle. “I mean, you have freckles, Lix, that’s like its own neon sign shouting ‘please kiss every single one’.

He blinks two times before a smile stretches his lips. “Yeah?”

You swallow. “Sure.”

His head tilts slightly to the side, his fingers grazing your cheeks because he still has your face captive. His smile softens, his eyes still bright, but he’s thinking. He’s pondering something.

“So…” you start, the silence of the moment getting to you, but he shakes his head. You shut your mouth.

“Can I kiss you?”

You knew you were getting into dangerous territory, talking about kissing his freckles, but you really didn’t think it would lead anywhere. This is Felix. Your friend.

“You want to?” your voice cracks like you’re just going through puberty. You can feel your cheeks heat from the embarrassment.

“I do.”

There is no guile about Felix. He is the most transparent person you’ve ever met. Sure, he can be sneaky about surprise gifts and parties, and if he’s in the middle of a Mafia game; but in real serious moments, he’s never anything but himself, and truthful.

His admission that he wants to kiss you seizes your heart. And because you are incapable of just letting things happen, you have to speak.

“For like, curiosity’s sake? or I dunno–”

He’s giggling.

You try to pull away with a huff, but he won’t let go of your face, his hold on you tightening.

“Look, I just would like to know–”

He’s kissing you.

His lips are soft like his hands, just as gentle. Your brain and body take a few seconds to catch up to the very shocking idea that Felix’s lips are on your lips, and when they do, your hands twist into his hoodie and find his slender waist like you need to hold on to something or you might just drift into nothingness.

“You okay?” he asks, his mouth only drawing back so he can get the words out. His fingers slide back to your ears, tracing them before sinking into your hair. “You want me to stop?”

“God no.” You open your eyes to see the twinkle in his eyes, a reminder that he is the softest boy on the planet but he’s also playful and ridiculous. “Lix…I…”

He kisses you again (which is good because who knows what embarrassing things you would say), mouth parting. His tongue slipping to touch yours is a revelation as is the way his hands in your hair move to tilt your head so he can go deeper.

You’re pretty sure you could tear holes into his hoodie if you aren’t careful.

He scoots closer, rising up to his knees before shifting so he’s straddling you. Your head is slanted up, both of you refusing to break apart. You try your best to loosen your grip on his hoodie, carefully slipping under the material to touch his skin.

You sense him jolt at your touch and you pull back, ready to apologize for crossing some sort of line, but he doesn’t let you get far, mouth seeking yours and he mumbles against your lips:

“Touch me.”

Never mind that you shudder at his words, your fingers back on his skin, hand sliding up his back. You try to rise up, both to kiss him more and to run your hands along his shoulders, but he’s too far. You hear a whine and realize that it’s you.

He doesn’t slow down, his kisses more urgent, more insistent; his teeth graze your bottom lip. His hand glides from your hair to the back of your neck, squeezing like he does when he offers a back rub.

“Hurts?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering himself so that instead of kneeling, he’s sitting on you. He’s not heavy; everything about Felix is slight except his heart and his smile. He draws back, waiting for your eyes to open. When they do, he’s staring at you, lips (now a deep red, swollen and glistening) curled up in a small smile.

Your hands, tracing his spine and shoulder blades, pause in their journey.

“Did your neck hurt?” he whispers. You open your mouth, trying to process his words. He squeezes the back of your neck again as though to remind you.

“Oh, um…” you swallow.

Why can’t you speak?

He leans in, his nose brushing yours while he kisses you lightly before moving to do the same to the side of your neck. The sigh you release makes him chuckle.

He “mmm”’s while kissing your neck, but your head falls back when he reaches the beginning of your shoulder. You feel his teeth, and all you want to do is bite him back.

“Lix…”

“Hmm?” his answering hum is so low, like bass at a concert and you can feel it tremble through you. He lifts his head so your eyes meet.

“Hoodie off.” Why are you breathing like you’ve run for the first time in your life?

He raises his eyebrows. You start to take it back (what are you thinking?), but he reaches to the back of neck and tugs his oversized hoodie off.

Technically, you know he wasn’t wearing anything under, but it’s still a shock to the system to see all that skin.

He’s watching you, his cheeks flushed. You drag your fingers along his shoulders and down his chest, resting on his sternum.

“Jeez, you’re pretty.”

The flush deepens, but he smiles, lifting his chin up a bit and then back down as though beckoning you close. You sit up, your own hands cupping his face like he had done yours just seconds (minutes? hours?) ago. You press your lips to his, softly, then harder. He shivers, arms wrapping around your waist. Kissing Felix is surreal. You know it’s happening because there are sounds (his low moans, soft as they are, might just be your death), you can feel his hands gripping your shirt, feel his soft skin under your fingers - warm, his taste and tongue and lips. And yet, you cannot believe this is actually occurring. Right now.

You almost yelp as he falls back on the sofa, taking you (his hold around you is unrelenting) with him. You immediately let go, catching yourself by your hands on the cushion, bracing so you don’t suffocate him.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes flutter open, the color so dark as he stares up at you.

“Felix?” You start to look down his torso to make sure you aren’t mistakenly kneeing him somewhere and unintentionally bruising him.

He says your name. The deepest, quietest whisper. Your eyes shoot back to his face. He raises up to his elbows, mouth grazing yours. Your worry for his physical self melts back into desire. At one swipe of his tongue, his hips lift and press against you.

Oh fuck.

He says your name again, but it’s tense. His index finger hooks the collar of your t-shirt and he tugs you closer to kiss you.

“You’re too far.” He barely breaks away to deliver the implied plea.

“I’ll crush you,” you reply, ever mindful that you are not as delicately formed as Felix.

He jerks back and you chase his mouth. You just open your eyes to see and feel him hook his arms under yours and pull up.

You land on top of him with an ‘oof’.

“What the fuck?” you gasp out.

He’s laughing, arms moving to hold you tight as you lift your head to attempt to glare at him. He kisses your nose before dragging your shirt over your head and tossing it onto the floor. You start to say something about your bra (it’s not like you wore a really nice one), but he’s gone back to kissing you.

Your legs are tangled with his as his hands draw along the curve of your back, tripping over your bra clasp and down to where your jeans begin. You’re hardly aware of anything anymore but how his lips taste sweet from the Chilsung, and how silky his hair feels between your fingers.

Then his hand dips under the waistband of your jeans to mold to your ass and press you closer.

You hear him whimper as you gasp because he is so hard and feels so good. You repeat the motion, without his guidance, and his hand tightens on your skin.

“Are you an ass man?”

You need to breathe and it is dawning on you that he and you are two seconds away from dry-humping in the middle of his living room and maybe that needs to be discussed.

His breathing heavily and his eyes are staring straight up at the ceiling. He has not moved his hand from your butt at all.

“Maybe? I mean, yours is…has always been good.”

He squeezes again and you let out a small squeal. He grins, eyes falling back on you.

“So…um…” You touch one of his cheek freckles. “This is like, really good and all, but kinda um…unexpected?”

He turns his head to kiss your finger, nipping it. “Not really.”

You’re attempting not to squirm at that little bite which shoots straight through you. “What?”

His other hand (the one not still on your ass) traces up and down your side as his gaze returns to your face.

“You’ve never thought of me like this?”

You can feel your face go hot. “I mean, sure. Look at you.”

His expression is way too smug.

“But just cause…wait, have you thought of me like this?”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“How is that obvious? We’ve been friends for ages and nothing has ever–”

He shuts you up with kiss, open and wet. He draws back before you can even register it.

“Just because you never noticed anything doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.” He rolls his hips up against you. You hold yourself still despite how good he feels. “That has happened a lot.”

You make a face at him. “You’re a guy. That’s not a great indicator of anything but stimulation.”

He licks his lips, before huffing a sigh at you. “It’s happened a lot with you. My oblivious friend who lets me cuddle as much as I want.” You watch as his eyes grow serious, his lips flatten. “I’m not totally alone in this, am I?”

You kiss the corner of his mouth, lingering because you cannot handle the flash of sadness in his eyes.

“No. You’re not alone.” You can feel him relax his hold on you before meeting his lips squarely with yours.

He takes one of your hands, while his mouth is taking yours, and slides it down and in between you both. He pushes it hard against his dick and he shudders.

“Fuck, if you knew how much I’ve wanted you to touch me there.” He groans when you tighten your grip. When you don’t continue, he pouts. “Why not?”

You shrug, raising up just enough to kiss the top of his cheekbone. “I have to kiss all your freckles now, Lee Felix. Now that I can.”

His answering grin is both affectionate and exasperated, and you kiss another tiny dot on his beautiful face.

“I mean, you can do both.”

© yoongihan 2023. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.

[pr0wlerpunk]

P.s- I love you

Person: 1610!Miles morales

Afab!reader

Requested:|Yes|No|

@alisblackgf : can I get earth-1610!miles x Reader where they’re childhood best friends and are just like. In love with each other. And then confess. IDK IM A SUCKER FOR FLUFF AND CONFESSIONS

Warnings: angst(?), slight cussing, both miles and reader being Extremely oblivious to each other’s feelings, miles and reader are both 16 bc I feel like it’s more realistic for 16 year olds to have this sort of issues(idk man), the ending is rushed ngl

Translations; Amor: love, Mi Vida: My Life, Mi Corazón: my heart

Tags: @alisblackgf

Ever since you could remember you knew miles..

See growing up your mother was a hairstylist, so that meant she knew any and everyone.

From the browns to the jakobs…

But there was always one name that stood out most

Morales…

Your mother was friends with Rio and your father with Jefferson-which automatically made you friends with their son, miles.

Miles was a sweet boy, always doing right and helping out his family

But

Boy was he shy

When you all first met he never walked away from his mom’s side, which you thought was weird since you were only 5

But as time grew miles warmed up to you, and you realized just how amazing he was

And I mean so amazing that all you wanted to do was be around him

So your mom made plans and before you know it, you lived a couple blocks down from the Morales’s

Every birthday was spent at each other’s houses

Every Christmas

Every thanksgiving

Any and everything was done together..

You and miles grew up close together, so close that even some would say it was the universe proving how you both were meant to be

He was your corazón

And you

His vida…

🕷️

12 years later

You had officially made it to the same school as miles, and would not leave him alone.(not that he minded, you were his girl after all..even if he hadn’t said it yet)

He was your boy and you made sure everyone knew that…

Especially that little Gwen Stacy chick.

When miles first told you about her you thought she was alright, she seemed smart, and she had an interest in the drums

He told you how they met and how he wouldn’t clarify it as them being friends

But still, the way he talked about her made it seem different..

You weren’t the jealous type, but something about her was off…

And then next thing you knew, he was always leaving with her

“Sorry [___], Me and Gwen have some plans after school, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

At first you thought it was ok, miles was making more friends and you were happy for him…

But every time you would ask him to hang or even walk home together he would always say he had plans with Gwen…

“I promised Gwen I’d help her with something today, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

It was all bout her

“Ah [___], I forgot me and Gwen have to do something right now, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

Normally you wouldn’t care if he flaked but you had something for him…

A letter.

You had spent hours on perfecting it

Now it was just about giving it to him…

But maybe you’d wait a little.

🕷️

And so that’s what you did,

You waited..

Hours had became days…

days turned into nights….

And nights went into weeks.

And then you realized

Nothing was going to change unless you made the change and reached out

And so the very next day, you did…

🕷️

Rio, miles mom let you in after school telling you how happy she was to see you and how miles was In his room

You thanked her and made your way to his, the path now unfamiliar since the last time you had been there

Which was-if you could remember-a week or two

As you neared his door you could hear hushed voices.

You leaned in slowly, pressing your ear to the door

“Im telling you Gwen, she’s amazing”

A confused look spread onto you face as you continued to listen

“Then why can’t you confess to her miles?”

Confess…confess to who?

“I don’t know, I mean we’ve been best friends for forever…I don’t wanna ruin things…”

W-was he talking about you?

“If shes a True Friend like you say she is, then she’ll hear you out-”

And suddenly it went quiet

“I got to go miles, Peter needs me back at his”

Then the window was shut

And that’s when you decided you would enter…

“Miles we need to tal-” You froze, there miles was, standing on his ceiling in what looked like a spiderman suit

“[___] I can explain!”

You watched in horror as your best friend jumped from his ceiling to his floor in a matter of seconds

“WHATS THERE TO EXPLAIN MILES??” You were livid, how could he keep something like this from you?

“Uhm im Spiderman….”

You stared at him a furious expression plastered on your face

“WELL I KNOW THAT NOW…”

Miles visibly cringed hearing you yell at him

“[___] Please calm down!, my moms gonna think something’s up!”

You glared at him

And then you put two and two together

“Miles…”

He looked at you, a soft smile forming onto his face

“Yea?”

“Gwen knows…doesn’t she?”

You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it come from his mouth

“She was the first person to know”

And you felt your heart shatter even more..

“Alright..yea, no that’s-it’s fine” You hurriedly turned to leave as tears threatened to spill down your face

“[___] don’t be like that, please amor” You felt his hand grab your wrist, and for the first time in weeks…you felt his skin…

And god everything was telling you to turn around and forgive him..

“D-don’t call me that miles”

But you didn’t… instead you ripped your wrist away from his grasp as you glared at him

Miles heart broke seeing your cold gaze…

And then something caught his eye.

“[___] w-whats that?”

You froze, he was never meant to see the envelope..especially not after what just happened

“It’s nothing”

You hurriedly tried to hide it, but you were too late

“Mi Vida, please!” He desperately pleaded

And you froze, the nickname you had came to love was now being used against you to get you to respond… and so you did

“Fine, you wanna know what it is so bad?!”

He anxiously nodded his head

“It’s a dumb letter..” You looked anywhere but him, not trying to see his face after what you where about to say

“I’ve been trying to confess to you for years miles…” your voice soft as you thought about all the times you wanted to tell him you loved him

“But you never got the hint…s-so I thought I’d write you a letter”

You finally held up the red and black envelope.

you watched as he took it from your hands, his gaze fixated on the little hearts and sunflowers that decorated the front

“Amor, I’m sorry, if I had known I would’ve made time for you I promise!”

You scoffed

“Miles cut the bull!”

He stared at you confused

“You would have Never, made time for me, and…I know that know”

He shook his head no, his mouth opening to speak…

But no words came out

And so you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes before looking at him

Nothing was said as you turned to leave…

And nothing was said as you did

Miles laid awake that night.

he couldn’t sleep, not after what you told him all those hours ago

Earlier…

Rio had saw how you left, tears streaming down your face as broken sobs left your mouth

She immediately went to go check on miles and what she saw broke her heart even more…

Miles was on the floor, pictures of you and him scattered around him as he himself let out broken sobs

Present

Miles couldn’t believe what you had told him

You had liked him for years…and he was so dense that he couldn’t realize it

And now it was too late…

He had lost you

God, if only he had payed more attention to you then maybe he would of gotten the letter sooner

Wait…

The letter..

THE LETTER!

Miles was quick to jump up and find the envelope

He looked around his already messy room until the red and plack cover caught his eye

Quickly he picked it up and opened it

His eyes welded up with tears as he read what you had wanted to tell him for years…

——————————————————

To mi corazón,

As I’m writing this I realize how corny it is.

I mean this isn’t a movie, but I just thought that making this would help me get of few things off my chest…

So here I go

Miles..

You don’t know how much you mean to me, when we first met I thought you were this shy nerdy little boy, But as we matured I came to realize that you were much much more.

You’re caring, and compassionate,

You’re not afraid to help someone in need,

You’re smart and funny,

You’re everything anyone could ever want…

So as I sit here writing this, I think…

I think about how we met.

I think about how we begged our families to live next to each other.

I think about our movie nights.

I think about our first day in elementary together.

I think about how our moms used to match us up in the same outfits.

I think about our first day of Highschool.

I think about how everyone would tell us we were meant for each other.

And I think about how the universe has kept us together…

Miles I was the luckiest girl in the world to meet you.

No matter what…

I won’t ever be mad at you.

I won’t ever not be there for you.

I won’t ever not appreciate you.

And I won’t ever doubt you.

Miles morales you’re the most perfect guy a girl could meet.

All always be your Vida and you, my Corazón

-[___]

Oh! And

P.s -

I love you

——————————————————

“Shit” he cursed whipping the fallen tears from his cheeks

He looked around his room until he spots his suit, he quickly grabbed it slipping the material on as he rushed to the window

Miles needed to talk to you…

🕷️

There you lay, tears streaming down your face as your music blasted through your room.

Your parents had night jobs, so that meant that they would sleep all day and go to work at night, which left little to no time for you…

But you didn’t mind it, you liked being by yourself

You could draw, watch tv, and blast music without any consequences…

Even if someone called the cops you wouldn’t be in trouble

(9 x out of 10 it was mr. Jefferson that came and he would just let you off with a warning)

You were zoned out thinking about everything that happened today,

You found out miles was Spider-Man

You confessed to him

And then you left.

When you had arrived home you went straight to the shower,

After your shower you put your playlist on shuffle and laid in bed

Which is what your still doing

And then..

There was a tap on your window

And another

And another

And then it stopped.

You let out a breath of relief

And then you heard it..

“Amor..”

“Amor, Are You awake?”

Peering over you pillow you came face to face with Spider-Man or now as you know

Miles…

“What’re you doing here miles..or should I say spiderman?”

He let out a soft groan at your tone of voice

“Cmon [___] don’t be like that”

You rolled over, turning away from him

“I read the letter…”

You froze but quickly regained your composure

“Oh goody”

Miles huffed, jumping on your ceiling and crawling over back to face you

“Did you mean it, everything you said…?”

You were quite for a moment, until you opened your eyes to finally face him

“….yea…”

He smiled and it instantly warmed your heart

“Do you forgive me?”

You let out a soft laugh as a smile made its way to your face

“….yea…”

You both went quite just staring at each other

“[___]”

“Yes miles”

“Can we cuddle?”

You let out a snort but quickly shook your head yes

“…..yes miles..”

He crawled(literally)into your bed wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you flush to his body

“Oh and Ps”

He mumbled into your neck

“I love You too”

BONUS

“You’re so corny Miles”

You let out a laugh as he quickly spoke up

“You started it!”

“….Nuh uh”

“[___]!!”

“BOTH OF YOU GO TO SLEEP”

You and miles stared at each other with shocked expressions

You looked up catching Gwen in her spider suit

“GWEN???”

“WAIT, GWEN??”

She waved before leaving

[drainslo]

Chishiya x Reader Angst(One-Shot)

Chishiya's reaction to when he loses the reader to a set-up.

I had already come up with my suicide mission. Everyone at camp knew the plan behind my final stand.

Everyone except Chishiya.

He knew there was something going on, since I caught him staring at me with his usual analytical stare every time I talked to Aguni.

I just hoped that he wouldn’t catch on before I talked to him. I couldn’t speak to him until the last moments before the trap was set up so he wouldn’t scheme a plan to stop me. 

The day of the set up arrived. I entrusted Kuina to tell the others that I was letting Chishiya know about my plan so we could have privacy while they set up the area with traps.

I found Chishiya in his usual place, and asked him to go on a walk with me before we all risked our lives to take down the King of Spades. “I want to talk to you privately, in case anything happens you know” I suggested, guiding him towards the riverside.

He quirked an eyebrow, “Why would anything happen? Our job was to set up the distraction to bait out the King. We have the remote activated explosives already built, thanks to my cunning genius. Unless…” his eyes narrowed. “ The plan has been changed to put you in harm's way?”

I sighed, and stopped next to an old green bench. “The problem with the remote explosives was that it would be too obvious this was a trap. The plan is for me to pose as bait. As a master hunter who set up the traps, to try to take the King of Spades myself. I’ll let him pursue me for a bit and…”

“When he kills you the others will have their chance” Chishiya finished, his stare gone blank.

“I need to do this to save the others. And I’m also going to save you, because I’m going to force you to choose. You made Kuzuryu choose between life or death, now it’s your turn,” I smiled. “I don’t want you to stay or leave this hell based on my decision, because I love you. With you, I can’t be selfish. I want you to live. And I want you to choose living, in whatever way speaks to your soul.”

I knew that he wasn’t expecting this, no matter how well he could read people. His one flaw was that he never completely understood what drove me to win all these games.

He could manipulate the King of Diamonds himself into the same choice I forced on him, but he thought that my love and will to live would keep me alive until the end.

He probably guessed this entire time I was scheming to get involved in some sniper position, not outrightly killed. 

I wasn't even sure if Chishiya understood that even now I was mostly doing this for him aside from the others. If I was alive, he would just follow me without forging his own path.

I wanted him to find meaning in his own life without the influence of anyone else.

I glanced up at his face. Again, it was so obvious that he wasn’t anticipating that I would sacrifice myself to the King of Spades. In fact, his face had gone completely blank like it was now a mask.

One of his classical defense mechanisms for hurt. 

“Chishiya… my love. Remember all the times you called yourself an empty shell? You couldn’t even see the value of your own life. That may have been true at one point but listen to me: you’re beautiful, your soul is so beautiful. I don’t think you would ever believe it if I told you before, I don’t think you still quite believe it.”

“So you’re going to show me?” His eyes were now slightly wider than they should’ve been.

“Yes. I love you. And I’m doing this because I love you more than anything.” I stepped closer to him, bridging the gap between us. His smell was so familiar, and I tried to memorize every inch of it. It was a mixture of the pine forest around us, and his own human scent. 

He cupped my cheek, and a tear slipped from my eye. He murmured “I always knew you would try something stupid, I just didn’t think you would go to this length because of me” and placed a light kiss on my head.

“And there’s-” he started, but I cut him off. “There’s no other way to optimize our chances without requiring someone to bait the King. It was my idea.”

Chishiya went silent, god I would miss his silence. I studied his face, now gone blank again. I had already memorized every inch of his face. Where his moles were, where the angles of his face changed in the light.

And I noticed the shift in his face immediately.

I had considered the possibility that his abandonment issues could be triggered by this, yet I thought his defenses he put up before he met me would allow him to make it until the Queen of Hearts was defeated. There were only two blimps left after all, and even after I was gone it wouldn’t be long until the games ended.

But Chishiya defied my readings, maybe intentionally, his eyes crinkled up like he was going to cry.

Then tears silently slid out of his eyes, and I noticed he was pinching himself, fighting to feel physical pain rather than emotional.

“I loved you. I really did” he said quietly, already speaking to me like I was a dead woman walking. “I trusted you not to leave me,” he continued, while I watched our hearts shatter in front of me and his heart slowly revert to its original state. “But you always surprised me. Until the very end” he smiled sardonically.

I stood rigid, afraid to move or speak or breathe. I didn’t want to shatter the moment, once it suddenly became glass.

Chishiya had held me hostage with his words, and I could only listen as he forged on, determined to make my heart bleed the way I was about to make his.

He shot a smirk at me, which heavily contrasted with the tear stains on his face. “They always leave, of course. It’s only human nature to betray, hence why the heart games exist. I’m seriously impressed by the way you made my heart bleed through a Spades game. I think I’m forever damaged, (name). This may be the end of my line as well. I always scoffed at the idea of dying from a broken heart, but I’m starting to believe it’s possible. My father may have been cruel, but at least he never presented love as a choice. You, (name) are the–”

“Stop.” I covered Chishiya’s mouth. “You’re deliberately trying to be cruel Chishiya, I see through you. You’re trying to manipulate me into staying with you. I’ve already made up my mind, so please don’t make these last moments any harder than they need to be.”

More tears slid down his face, and he hung his head down knowing I had just caught him. Chishiya pulled me into his arms for a hug, and then kissed me like he had never before.

His salty kiss said good-bye.

Chishiya pulled away from our kiss, his forehead touching mine. “I’m always going to find a way you, either in this world or any other.”

He squeezed me tightly then placed a chaste kiss on my cheek. I never thought I would see him like this.

His voice broke, and was shaking as he spoke. “Go. Before I take on the King of Spades myself.”

“I would like to see you in my next life,” I whispered to Chishiya as I walked away.

I couldn't look back, or I would have flung myself back to him.

I grabbed an automatic at camp, waiting for Aguni to signal at me to run towards the approaching blimp.

Kuina triggered the first trap to draw the King's attention, and Aguni frantically waved his hand.

So I had no choice but to run my destiny, leaving everything behind: My heart, my love, my Chishiya.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Happy Friday Cal!

this week I'm looking forward to a museum wedding, parental visit angst, a search for a spouse, and one juiced-fruit of a nutjob getting out of the hospital 😁

I'm also loving the murder mystery party ☠️ story so far and I'm trying to watch every little detail in the time loop ➰ fic for clues—but perhaps I'll ask about those later this week (or they can be backups if you finish Long Death before you get to this one! dealer's choice)

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟🧟🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️🧟🧟🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

~Maxi

HEY MAXI!

Sorry it took a minute to get to this one but here we go!!! Happy you're excited for these!

---

24 for ⚡:

---

He’s never exactly blamed her for his choices there, but… But they both know the way he was raised has everything to do with the path he went down. And hearing her acknowledgement of that feels somewhat liberating. Like he can unburden himself the blame he thought she was laying on him. 

“Thank you, Mom,” he says. “I really appreciate that.” 

She smiles, gesture reaching her misty eyes, and reaches over to pat his shoulder. 

“You look wonderful, by the way,” she says. “Just wonderful.”

Eddie doesn’t exactly know how or why or where it came from, but he feels like they’ve turned some kind of corner. 

He smiles. “Thanks. I, uh… I just can’t wait to see Buck.”

Helena nods. “He is quite handsome. I can see why.”

“Mom!”

“What? Eddie, I have eyes.”

Eddie finds himself laughing, much to his own surprise. 

“Yeah, he’s beautiful,” he says softly. “I’m a lucky guy.”

“Well,” she says firmly. “So is he.”

---

24 for 🚨:

---

“What?” Margaret asks innocently. “It always does, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think I understand,” Eddie says coolly. He doesn’t like her tone. 

Maddie shoots him a pleading look. 

No, Eddie’s not sure that will work on him. He doesn’t really care. She set this up. He likes Maddie, and he’s very sympathetic to her wanting the best for her daughter’s future, but right now, his priority is absolutely Buck. Buck over keeping the peace. Always. 

“No, really,” Eddie doubles down. “What do you mean by that?” 

Margaret blinks at Eddie. 

“Well, I’m sure he’s put his best foot forward with you, young man,” she says, a bit patronizingly. “Give it time.”

Buck’s jaw tightens. 

“Mom.” Maddie scolds. 

“Hey, now…” Chim looks aghast. “That’s…”

But he obviously doesn’t even have words.

---

30 for 🧟‍♂️:

---

He grabs a couple of blankets and cushions, boils them each a mug of tea, and they head up. 

It’s not a proper tea bag. They ration caffeinated tea and coffee pretty strictly, knowing that it’s running out. Instead, they use the plants that grow freely in the garden. One of which, that grows so insistently it’s almost a weed, is mint. Chim appreciates the mint tea quite a bit nowadays; it reminds him of the gum he used to chew. 

“Mm, this smells so good,” Maddie says when he hands her a mug. 

“I know,” he agrees. “I practically live off it now.”

“God, if you told me a year ago there’d be a time where I was living without coffee, I would have called you insane,” Maddie says. 

They head towards the stairs that lead to the roof. There is technically an elevator they can take, but it uses a lot of power. They try not to use it unless moving something heavy. 

“I know, right?” Chim laughs. “Those early days of weaning off it were brutal.”

“Weaned?” Maddie scoffs. “I had no other option but cold turkey.”

“And I do not envy you,” Chim replies. 

They make it to the roof, and Chim sets up two reclining deck chairs with the blankets and the cushions so they’re in the best position to stargaze. Maddie sets up the music with a CD she chose from the library’s collection. An oldies assortment that she says seems right for the mood. Chim wonders what she thinks that mood is. He knows what he hopes it is. Time will tell, he supposes. 

Chim flops down into his chair. Maddie, he notices, scooches hers a little closer before slowly lowering herself down. That rib has to be hurting after a day of activity. 

---

30 for 🩸:

---

Buck finds himself laughing at the absurdity of all this. Before long, Eddie is joining in. Tired, hysterical laughter.

“Shhh!” Eddie scolds him.. “You’ll wake up Chris and Soph.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Buck tries to contain himself. It’s not easy.  

Eddie shuffles over and, careful so as not to disturb Buck’s pillow set up, leans over to kiss him. 

“We’re going to be alright,” he promises. 

He sounds so certain. So determined. It’s impossible not to trust in him. 

“I know we are,” Buck says. “Because I’ve got you.”

Eddie smiles at him, expression all gooey.

“My very own living flu shot,” Buck adds. 

Eddie groans. “That was the worst thing you’ve ever said.”

“It’s sort of true though,” Buck says. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Well, then you’re very lucky you need regular boosters.”

Oh? Well, Buck likes the sound of that. Can’t be too careful about immunity, after all. 

“Something to look forward to when I no longer feel like a pincushion,” Buck says. 

Eddie rests a gentle hand on his thigh. “We have a lot to look forward to, I think.”

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Reunion [18+] PAIRING: (pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After Arthur disappears for a week after a close call on a job, you can’t help but worry about him. However, upon his return, your reunion develops into something you weren’t expecting. WARNINGS: GRAPHIC SMUT. Do not interact if you are a minor. Some mild angst.  NOTE: I didn’t expect to return to writing in this fandom with this in mind, per say, but it just kind of happened. lol Regardless, please enjoy!

You were worried sick, to put it lightly.

This wasn’t exactly unusual–you knew better than anybody what risks came with riding with the gang. Yet, you couldn’t help but worry about the people you had grown close to. Arthur was especially someone you kept in your thoughts pretty often, and given the more intimate developments in your relationship with the gruff outlaw, his wellbeing was a recurring worry for you. The first night after the rest of the group that went out on the job returned without him, you were naturally worried, but tried to brush it off for the time being. Arthur had spent more than a couple days away from camp at points.

Yet, with how the details of the job sounded more and more like a close call, his absence weighed on you more than it would’ve otherwise.

A night turned into two, then almost four, before your concern was keeping you up at night. You tried to talk to Dutch about it, but he dismissed it. In a way that he likely hoped didn’t come across that way, but it did in your eyes. Arthur had disappeared in the past–usually no longer than a week before someone was sent out to go find him, but in this situation? This wasn’t just some time away from camp. With the exhaustion, stress, and worry that was sitting on your mind, Grimshaw breathing down your neck about picking up your slack had you feeling all the closer to snapping.

Considering how long you had known the woman and her temperament, you didn’t want to get to that point with her. Not unless you wanted to get on her really bad side.

So, leaving camp seemed like the best choice at the time.

You had definitely toyed with the idea of going out to search for Arthur yourself, yet you were at a loss as to where to begin. Plus, with how fresh this job was, you didn’t want to put more people in danger by digging around places that you really shouldn’t be. You had to remind yourself that Arthur was strong, he could take care of himself and had done so in the past. You losing sleep over him being gone won’t change that.

On the other hand, you didn’t want to dismiss the idea of him being in danger completely. Not when it could be a disastrous choice. Still, you knew you weren’t really thinking clearly–Arthur was the backbone to a number of things around camp, they wouldn’t just let him disappear.

Still, as much as you wanted to believe that if they weren’t worried, you shouldn’t be too, and yet you couldn’t.

You just knew that you didn’t have a path to start on that would be helpful, and with your nerves like they were, you wouldn’t be of much help either if something had really happened. Settling into a room at the nearest hotel in a town nearby helped put some of the pressure off, but it didn’t really stop the nervous restlessness and those thoughts from circling when you tried to sleep. In reality, you hadn’t really been gone from camp for more than a night or two, but in your mind it felt like ages. While you had managed to eventually sleep a full night, exhaustion winning out in the end, the short amount of days kind of blurred together.

So, as dramatic as it was, when he showed up at your room on the third night, you weren’t sure how to react.

Relief settled upon seeing him, alive and well, yet a part of you also wanted to be angry about the stress his disappearance caused. It had been a week.

“They told me you was worried,” Arthur said, pulling you out of your head, “Didn’t mean to do that, but you know how things can be.”

“I was scared, you…” you started before trailing off as your voice faltered somewhat before letting out a small huff. “You bastard.”

“Never claimed to not be one,” Arthur replied, stepping forward once you moved around him to close the door behind him.

Regardless of the quick exchange, he accepted you wrapping your arms around him. Arthur returned the embrace, placing a hand on the back of your head as you buried your face into his jacket. He smelled like horses and dirt–like he had been traveling, though you could smell some soap on him that suggested that he had bathed recently. You felt a small pit of embarrassment settle in you at the realization–if he had time to clean himself, he clearly hadn’t been as worse off as you had been fearing. A part of you that was born out of that feeling wanted to apologize for worrying, that you felt silly about it, and yet everything that still scared you.

While your relationship with him was relatively laid back, not making too much of a big show of it in camp, you couldn’t help but feel that part of you that was harbouring feelings for him. If anything, it only grew bigger, and in moments like this you could certainly feel it.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he muttered into your ear, resting his cheek against the side of your head, “I got pinned by some law, then bounty hunters–it’s a big mess, but I’m fine. We’ll be fine. So…don’t need to worry no more.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t think I can stop worrying about you,” you muttered into his embrace–while you had meant the words to be teasing, they came out more like an admission as you let out a small sigh.

“Then I guess it’s too much to ask for. Still, this ain’t the first time stuff like this happened, and likely won’t be the last.”

“I know…” you replied with another sigh, slowly pulling back from the embrace.

You took in his appearance, the tiredness of his expression and the look in his eyes. Arthur’s eyes were always something you had been drawn to, a part of you almost wishing he would meet your gaze when you had first joined the camp and yet almost couldn’t handle it when he would. Now, though, you met his gaze steadily, the softening look that crossed his expression when he took in your words. He also looked relieved, which left you with the impression that maybe he had been a little more worried than he wanted to let on.

After a few moments, you reached up to cup his cheek, the growing stubble there scratching lightly along your fingers and the palm of your hand. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his. Arthur responded instantly, pressing back into the kiss as he slipped his arms around your lower back, holding you to him as you moved your hand to cup the back of his neck, fingers resting lightly in the hair at the base of his neck. He broke the kiss for a second before capturing your lips again, the kiss more firm than the light, reassuring one you had originally pulled him into.

Arthur gently started to push you backwards, which you fell into step with after a few awkward steps. You backed into a nightstand in the room, easily slipping around it as Arthur backed you against the wall. He pressed himself close, the wall at your back and his chest pressing against your own as he deepened the kiss. You somewhat clumsily reached up to find the brim of his hat that was already lifting away from his face anyway. You pulled it off his head and placed it down on the table beside you somewhat blindly before sliding a hand up into his hair, lightly gripping a handful as Arthur let out a low noise from his chest.

Finally, you parted from the kiss for some air, which only caused him to bow his head to kiss at the base of your neck where it met your shoulder. You hummed lightly in pleasure at the sensation, gripping your free hand into the back of the collar of his jacket.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you said somewhat breathlessly, tugging lightly at the collar of his jacket as a signal that you wanted to take it off.

Arthur pulled back enough to where you could work on pulling the jacket from his shoulders, his own hands moving from your hips up toward your front so he could work on undressing you as well. He pressed another lingering kiss just under your jaw as you pushed his jacket down his arms.

“Missed you so much,” he muttered, shedding the rest of his jacket, “Didn’t want to see anybody else before I saw you, but…”

“You’re here now, that’s what matters,” you returned, shouldering off the bit of clothing he managed to unbutton.

You reached out to undo the first couple buttons of his shirt, dropping your head down to press your mouth against the exposed skin near his neck and collarbone. Arthur gripped your hips, pulling you against him as you placed a hand on his shoulder and slipped your hand around his back. While you hadn’t intended to get into bed with him upon his return, it was the more dominant thought now. Given the way Arthur was holding you to him and his wandering hands, you had a feeling that he was feeling something similar.

This wasn’t the first time you had slept with him, but usually he was a little more relaxed and took his time. At the moment, as he pulled at another bit of clothing he wanted off you, it felt like he had been wanting to do this for a while. While you were more than fine with how he usually went about this, the excitement of the current moment was equally as intoxicating. Finally, you lifted your head from where you were kissing along the skin of his exposed shoulder as you unbuttoned his shirt. He shouldered that off in turn, just leaving his upper body in his union suit.

Given the heat of the area you were all staying in, you were grateful for the fewer layers. It also meant that you didn’t have a ton of clothing on you either, which became apparent as you felt him push down the last of your outerwear. Wanting to even the score, you reached down to start unbuckling his pants. You could see and feel the starts of a prominent bulge, working on opening the front of his pants.

However, Arthur interrupted that by seeking out your mouth again. He cupped the back of your head with his hand, the kiss hard and you easily welcomed his tongue as you grazed your own against his. Admittedly, you were a little dizzy, your heart pounding hard in your chest but you were craving his hands on you.

Thankfully, you got your wish as you felt him move his hands from your hips to slip under the edge of your chamise. His skin was warm and rough, the feeling pulling a small inhale from you as he slowly slid them up. While his touch was familiar, it still sent little shivers over your body and in that moment you realized just how much you had been missing him in this aspect too. Always too busy, always too many people around, there was always a reason why you should leave it for another time.

You trailed your hand along the waist of his open pants, Arthur once again interrupting that as he pulled back from the kiss with a small inhale. You felt him stop his hands just under your breasts, a small surge of frustration cropping up in you but you didn’t voice that just yet.

“You want me to…?” he asked, part genuine question and yet you could catch a touch of amusement at what was likely the barely held back frustration in your gaze.

“Yes. Please,” you replied almost instantly, “I want to touch you so badly too.”

“I want that too, sweetheart,” he said in an almost breathy mutter as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

You pressed back into the kiss with a light moan, though you took in a breath when you felt him cup your breasts with his hands. Arthur moaned against your lips, pressing a little closer as you arched against his touch, pressing your shoulders back against the wall again. He squeezed and fondled them as you moaned lightly into the kiss, followed by another short, pleasured sound as he rolled your nipples between his fingers.

Once you managed to find your thoughts again, you finally dropped your hand into his pants to palm at his hard cock through the fabric of his union suit. That action pulled another groan from him, Arthur breaking the kiss as you rubbed him with a firmer press as he lifted his hips against your hand. He moaned aloud at that, the sound only arousing you further. You could feel him squeezing your chest a little harder as his attention moved toward what you were doing to his cock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up, Mr. Morgan,” you observed, teasing but it was hard to hide the arousal that mingled in your tone.

“I dunno, I…” he started, trailing off as you rubbed at him with another firm stroke, “Shit.”

“After the amount of stress you put me through this week…” you started, palming at his hard cock again as Arthur groaned, rolling his hips into your touch again. An idea was forming in your mind. “Well. Maybe we should get in bed.”

You were purposefully slow in removing your hand from his pants, as he was to finally drop his hands out of your chamise and work on removing the last of his clothing. Following suit, you both were finally nude as you climbed up onto the bed but didn’t lay down.

“Here, lay down,” you said, clearing some of the blanket away for him, “You can take my side.”

“You bossin’ me around now?” he asked, pulling a small grin from you.

Despite the question, he did what you directed. Arthur lay down on the bed on his back as you moved to sit next to him. You reached out to wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a couple strokes as Arthur dropped his head back against the pillow with a light moan. The sight was enough to almost make you want to forget the idea you had and just ride him. It wasn’t like you weren’t just as into this as he was. Yet, you had been told patience with this gave more of a reward in itself.

Considering how you had lived for a good couple years in your early adulthood, you had heard some stories and you wanted to see if it was worth the gossip at the time.

“What’re you doin’?” Arthur asked after a few moments, causing you to chuckle despite yourself.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you replied, giving his cock a few more strokes before you removed your hand. You rose up on your knees somewhat, gently grabbing one of his hands and resting it near your groin. “Help me out?”

Arthur caught on to your intention pretty quickly, moving to sit up somewhat and slip a hand against your lower back and guided you a little closer so he could push his hand between your legs. You sucked in a short, quick breath at the feeling of his fingers rubbing along your folds. You rolled against his movements a little, Arthur pressing a finger just inside so he could rub along the more sensitive parts. You moaned lightly as he brushed a finger against your clit, sending a small spark of arousal into your core.

He continued those motions for a bit, rubbing and circling as more noises started tumbling out of you freely. Eventually, Arthur pushed a single finger into you, pumping in time to your little thrusts as you gasped. Given how wet you were, he added a second finger shortly after. He cupped his hand somewhat, pushing and pumping his fingers in you as you thrust down against them. You found yourself naturally moving a little faster, craving the contact while also warning yourself that you don’t want to get too close to an orgasm if you wanted to try what you were thinking.

“You look beautiful like this,” Arthur breathed, watching as you rocked yourself against his fingers. You met his gaze, his pupils blown wide and a look of almost wanton concentration on his face.

“So do you,” you replied, knowing he was going to dismiss that but it was true in your eyes. You had always thought he was a handsome man, but in moments like this? He was intoxicating.

You let out a low sound as you could feel yourself threatening to come undone with that line of thought.

“I want to try something,” you said around a breath, stilling your movements, “I’ll need to be on top of you. You wanna play along?”

Arthur took you in for a moment as he deliberated before he nodded, looking a little confused but his curiosity seemed to win out. “Sure.”

With that, you had him pull his fingers out of you so you could get in his lap. Sinking down on him was eased by the work his fingers had done, but there was still that bit of an uncomfortable stretch as you took him all in. Arthur gripped your hips, letting out a couple moans and curses as you did so. He rolled his hips somewhat, which caused you to gasp a little but otherwise it wasn’t too overwhelming at the moment. You rested your hands on his chest, meeting his gaze as you lifted your hips a little experimentally before stilling again.

“For this, you can touch me but you can’t touch yourself,” you said, shifting back to a better position.

“Whatever y’want, darlin’,” Arthur replied with a nod.

Finally, you started to move, which honestly felt like you both were almost begging for it at this point.

You found an easy pace at first, enjoying the way his cock filled you and pressed against your walls. Arthur moved his hips, a pace you tried to match as he guided you somewhat with his hands on your hips. It wasn’t too long until you were riding him in a way that was really pulling you closer to that edge, moans and whimpers falling from your lips as he thrusted up into you. You could feel yourself getting dangerously close but not enough to actually come, so you pulled yourself off Arthur’s cock.

The sudden absence was a little uncomfortable for you, feeling you twitch and flutter around nothing. However, the groan Arthur let out told you that perhaps you were doing this correctly after all. He reached out toward you, some concern touching his expression.

“What happened? You alright?” he asked, making you smile and lean in to kiss him.

“I’m fine,” you replied once you pulled back.

You reached out and started to stroke his cock. It was slick with your fluids, which actually aided you a bit with the lighter touches that you intended. You didn’t stroke the full length of him, just touching him enough to where it would get a reaction. Arthur moaned, rolling his hips against your hand, but you released your fingers somewhat before he settled again. After almost a minute of this, he let out an almost pained groan.

“Is this that thing you wanted to try?” he asked, somewhat breathless.

“Yeah,” you replied simply, keeping up your purposeful movements as you glanced back toward him with a small, teasing smile, “I want to even things out. You kept me on the edge of panic all week, so…”

It took him a moment to clue into what you were doing, but when you noticed his breathing was getting less erratic you figured he would have pieced it together soon anyway.

“You ain’t…” he started, tilting his head to meet your gaze, “I don’t think you’re gonna hold out.”

“No?” you asked, removing your hand, “I feel fine and I think the evening’s still young. We have all night, too.”

You shifted so you were straddling his lap again, aligning yourself over his cock before sinking down again slowly. The sensation pulled those sparks through you again, the sudden stop not being the most comfortable for you but it was manageable. Arthur, however, groaned deeply as he lay his head back, lifting his hips against you again as you moved with them like you had done before. You moved slowly, making sure to time your little thrusts when he tried to move at the speed he needed. Just enough to pleasure him, but not enough to really allow him to get to where he needed to be.

As much as a part of you just wanted to give in and just let you both get to that edge, you could admit there was something very arousing at feeling Arthur’s grip on you get tighter, his movements more demanding. You caught yourself slipping a bit when he’d hit certain parts of you, making you move a little quicker and chase the pleasure. However, you slowed as you caught yourself. You didn’t want him to get his way–not yet.

Though, in a way, you losing your grip on your discipline seemed to get more of the effect you were going for. As you locked down on him again, pressing your hips down against his, Arthur almost squirmed as he let out a loud moan.

“This ain’t like any torture I ever heard of,” he commented around a heavy breath, his hips twitching under you a little as he let out a small grunt.

“I feel that good to you?” you asked, rolling your hips again, “You like this?”

“Yes,” he replied around a pant, “I’m so–I want…”

“What?”

“I need you to move, darlin’. Please.”

With that, you lifted your hips. Arthur immediately thrust up into you, hard and kind of sloppy. Yet, it hit you just right, which had you matching that instinctually as you cried out a few times. You continued to bounce somewhat on his cock, Arthur’s moans getting more frequent and louder as you did so. You could feel yourself tightening up a little, a small twinge in your gut as a small warning. Yet, you continued to ride him, the tips of your fingernails digging into his sides somewhat as you let that wave of pleasure build up in you.

You slowed down again, feeling your walls tighten and flutter as you cried out a little at how close you were. Arthur groaned under you, loud and pure desperation as he gripped at your hip and side tightly. Despite wanting to roll your hips against him, you held yourself back. Feeling his cock twitch inside you wasn’t a help, however.

“Oh–shit. I’m achin’,” Arthur said after a moment, voice strained somewhat between some little groans and pants. “I’m so close, you gotta let me come. I get what you’re doin’. Please…”

You looked him over for a moment. The flushed complexion, his face and body covered in sweat as he breathed heavily, his eyes somewhat glazed over.

“...Okay,” you said, “I got my point across. I’m really close too.”

You picked up your pace again, letting Arthur move freely as he chased his long awaited release. You tried to press your hips down in time with his thrusts, but even your legs were tired and your movements were a little sloppy as you quickly felt that build up in you again. It didn’t take too long before your walls clenched around Arthur’s cock, the rush of your release making your back arch as you cried out. Arthur wasn’t quite done, but you could feel him moving through your orgasm as he moaned loudly and kept pounding up into you. Immediately, you were oversensitive, the sensation becoming painful as you cried out again.

Finally, Arthur spilled over that edge. He slammed his hips up against your own as he came with a shout, his knees digging up under you as he curled his legs somewhat as his back arched with the sensation. He followed that up with a few short rolls of his hips, moans and half utterances escaping him as his orgasm washed over him.

Despite the drawn out process, that reaction made it worth it. You almost wanted to grin, but you were currently trying to come back down from your own orgasm, mouth open as you tried to catch your breath.

Arthur kept his hips lifted against you for a few more moments before dropping them back down onto the bed. You immediately rolled off him, collapsing into the unoccupied side of the bed with a small grunt. Arthur was catching his breath beside you, eyes shut as he finally started to come down from what just happened.

“I…” he started after a moment, “I don’t know what to say…”

“Me too,” you replied around a soft chuckle, “You’re okay? I think I got carried away…”

“Carried away,” he muttered around a chuckle, the lighthearted nature relieving you a little, “I gotta disappear more often if this is what happens…”

“Please don’t.”

Arthur shifted, wrapping his arms around you as he settled against your side. He pressed a kiss to the back of your shoulder, lingering there for a few moments as you relaxed into his hold.

“Really am sorry for makin’ you worry like you did,” he said, making you turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder somewhat.

At his expression, you rolled over so you could face him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your head into his chest as he held you tighter to him. The steady rhythm of his heart in your ear, you let out a small breath. While you couldn’t help it, you knew you worried too much. It wasn’t like you didn’t know the risks, but…

“For a while, I had thought you were gone,” you muttered, “Got shot somewhere, captured and hung or something. Yet, I know that happens. I just…I got scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Never saw myself as someone worth that fear, but…” Arthur said after a few moments, which made you look up at him from where you were curled into him. “I do my best to not let any of that happen. Can’t say it never will, but…I’m here right now. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

‘I love you’ came so quickly to the tip of your tongue that it genuinely surprised you. You could feel your stomach clench at the realization, the words so close to slipping out. Yet, you knew there would be a better time to confess that. You didn’t know if he even had similar feelings, but in quieter, more serious moments like this, it made you wonder.

It made you reach out to cup the side of his face, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth as a replacement for saying something you might regret on impulse.

“You’re here now. That’s enough for me,” you replied once you pulled back, settling down against the pillow near his head.

“...Where the hell’d you learn that, anyway?”

You chuckled sleepily. “I think I deserve some secrets. I don’t need you getting even.”

[ciginatree]

Cyberhex

Chapter Two

Summary: First, was the Divine Infection, a brutal act of biological terrorism released in coastal California. Then, came The Spores. Born from a cure gone wrong, it ravaged the human race by attacking, puppeteering, and eventually: killing. In the rubble, Cyberhex works to survive and recover the world, hoping that they aren't the only ones.

Series Content Warnings (will be updated as chapters progress): death, descriptive gore, angst, grief, suicide, mental health struggles, language

Chapter Word Count: 2.4k

Author's Note: I'm so sorry it took this long to get the second chapter out. I've done more storyboarding and am more on top of it now, so the chapters should be coming out faster. Enjoy!

This story is a complete work of fiction portraying the likeness of a real person or persons in a fictional situation.

“Welcome to Cyberhex.”  Verin drops down out of the helicopter, a slight pain radiating from her ankle and back upon impact. She hisses and straightens, palm caressing the dip just above her ass. The buildings look so… ordinary. Well, as ordinary as a base can be; there’s no decay, no overgrowth. Ryan and Ricky brush past her and Verin’s eyes follow their path to a door firmly implanted into what looks like a shed. Something bumps her shoulder and she jolts, turning her head. Her backpack, held up and out to her by Chris. 

“Thank you.” She slips the straps through her arms and clips it over her chest. Chris nods and continues after his team, leaving her with Justin and the aircraft. The air is left with a metallic hum, an afterthought of the deafening helicopter ride. An oscillating tone drowns her ears and fills her head, pressuring just behind her eyes. Damn. 

“Just you and me, huh?” Justin comments, checking the aircraft for any scuffs or dents from their previous escapades. Verin hesitates.

“I guess, I mean- I don’t really know where I’m supposed to go,” she replies, voice foreign and far away, buried beneath the start of her headache. Justin chuckles, the rag landing with a dull thud in a bucket to the side as he tosses it. 

“Don’t worry I’ll take you through sanitation; we’ll give you the tour from there.” 

“Sanitation? But I thought I was clean- the scanner-”

“We need to sanitize for anything else you might have picked up. Who knows when a new outbreak could happen. Chris likes to be prepared.” Justin steps past Verin, dusty boot imprints embedding on the roof tiles. She follows, taking one last look at the phthalo pines before stepping through the steel shed door. Inside is a rusty stairwell, an elevator just to the left of it. Nothing more, nothing less. Verin looks on in confusion before stepping towards the elevator doors. Justin’s hand latches onto the loop at the top of her backpack, yanking her back towards the stairs. 

“Nuh- uh, you only get to take the elevator after you’ve been sanitized. C’mon.” Hand still on the back of her bag, they trudge down the flights of grated stairs. Each step sounds like a gunshot in the empty stairwell, grubby boots leaving faint tracks of mud on the flaking rust. After a few flights, Justin leads her off the stairs and onto the landing, stopping in front of a bolted door. A standard ID scanner lays silent to the left of the handle and Justin procures a blank card, tapping it to the black plastic. A flashing beep and mechanical click startle Verin and she takes a step back. Justin tugs on the handle, the door swinging open to reveal a poorly lit hallway. It looks like…a hospital. An old one. 

He leads her into a room, empty except for a pair of people in starchy white hazmat suits and thick rubber gloves. They hold what look like pressure washers, a bucket of soapy liquid off to the left. The room smells heavily of vinegar and Verin’s eyes water. Justin reaches an arm behind him to close the door. “Did Chris radio you?”

“Yes, sir,” responds the man on the left, his voice muffled. 

“Good. Verin you… might want to take off your clothes unless you want them to get soaked,” Justin smirks. He sees her look of apprehension and rolls his eyes. “I won’t look, now c’mon.”

“Fine.” Justin turns and Verin strips, tossing her clothes onto the nearby table. Chills run over her arms and she crosses them over her bare chest. 

“Turn around,” the suited man instructs and Verin obeys, facing the wall. 

“So, how-” Verin shrieks as a spray of water jets into her back. She takes a few gasping breaths before settling into the feeling, the spray sweeping up and down her body. “Jesus, you could’ve warned me!”

The process takes less than ten minutes; one man sprays the water, the other- who turned out to be a woman -sponges her down with frothy soap and vinegar. Then rinse and repeat. Finally, the deafening spray slows to a drip and they toss her a towel. She quickly dries herself and tugs her clothes back on. 

Justin turns around with a playful grin. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Verin glares at him and hikes her backpack onto her shoulders. “Don’t be like that, everyone has to do it.” He places a hand on the doorknob and swings it open, leading her out and down the hall.

“See, now you can use the elevator,” Justin chuckles. The two cleaners follow the pair down to the end of the hall where the long awaited, heavy, metal doors wait for them. Justin punches his knuckle into the down button and they wait in silence as the groan of old gears slowly ascends. The doors part to reveal a cramped, worn room that they all file into. Being squished behind Justin, the scent of chemical cleaner and oil stings her nose. She glances down and shifts her foot away from a sticky mess of dirt and some substance she doesn’t want identified.

“Have you ever cleaned in here?” She murmurs in disgust and Justin snorts.

“Can’t have anyone knowing there’s people in here can we?” The ding of arrival cuts off Verin’s retort and she peers around the men to see where they are.

“Holy shit,” she whispers. It’s so much bigger than she thought. It looks like some kind of warehouse- or airplane hanger; it’s huge. Desks and tables fill the empty space, dozens of people bustling between them. The air is filled with clicks and urgent chatter, footsteps echoing off the concrete floor. On the right hand side of the compound sit a row of cars with a closed garage door at the end of the line. “Where does that lead?”

Justin glances down to her, then follows her line of site to the heavily paneled garage. “Underground tunnels. Used a lot in military operations.”

“Military? I thought this was a campus or hospital. Where are we?” Verin takes quick steps to catch up to Justin’s strides. 

He smirks before answering. “If I told you I’d have to kill you.” In stunned silence, Verin decides not to press; who knows if he’s joking or not? She follows his lead, weaving through tables and stepping over cables. Justin raises an arm and calls out something she can’t quite make out. Fin, maybe? A shorter man looks up from the papers he was pointing at and explaining to a man in uniform. The previous dismisses the uniformed man and approaches Verin and Justin with a boyish grin.

“Justin! Hey, man, how’d it go?” The man’s gaze flickers between the two of them, hand raising to brush chocolate curls away from his cheeks. His hand drops back down to his thigh and slips into the pocket of the cargo pants hanging low on his hips. 

“Picked up this one-” Justin claps the back of her shoulder and she steps forward to balance herself.” “-other than that, it was uneventful.”

“No other…” The brunette trails off for a moment, glancing anxiously at Verin. His words are solemn and careful, no visible remnants of that charming smile that had put her at ease. “...no other survivors?” Justin shakes his and looks down.

“Combed the whole city, too. It’s getting harder to find people that are both clean and alive. The only reason we found her is because she plastered her window with a fucking sticky note SOS.” Brunette huffs a single laugh, lips twitching up in near disbelief as he switches his gaze back to Verin.

“Really? You’re one of the smarter motherfuckers we’ve found, then. I’m Vinny, by the way.” He holds out his hand. “Since Justin’s a prick and hasn’t introduced me.” Verin takes Vinny’s hand tentatively; he has rougher skin than she would have expected. 

“I’m Verin. I- uh- I saw the broadcast and figured I should make myself visible. Hence the sticky notes,” she says sheepishly. Vinny withdraws his hand and crosses both over his chest.

“You saw the broadcast? What’d you think?” He asks with a prideful gleam of curiosity.

“Uh-”

“Vin’s our tech guy,” Justin explains. “A cocky one, too. He’s the reason the broadcasts actually get out to anyone at all.”

“How’d you even do that? I mean- is there a system you hack or-?” Vinny’s grin is back, thrilled to have someone to explain it to.

“You know those amber alerts or weather notices you get on your phone? How they’re sent out to everyone in the area? It’s FEMA Integrated Public Alert and Warning System. It targets devices within range of certain cell towers. All I had to do was access that sort of system and boom: I’m sending shit out to every device in range.”

“Huh,” Verin chimes, intrigued and acting like she knows what any of it means. Justin claps a hand on her shoulder and her body shudders from the force.

“As much as I’m sure she’d love to listen to you talk nerd shit all day, I have to show her to the bunks.” Vinny looks mildly disappointed, but raises a brief hand in parting as he turns back towards his mess of papers.

“Well, it was nice to meet ya. See you around.” Justin tips two fingers off the top of his head in a casual salute and steers Verin away from the bustling main room towards a side door.

“So, what do you think?” Verin peers up at him briefly.

“About Vinny or the facility?” Justin barks a short laugh.

“Either.”

“He’s cool. The facility’s big. How many people are here?”

“One hundred and nine including you. Wish there were more and wish there were less at the same time.” Justin slides his hand off her shoulder, sneaking a quick glance at his digital wrist watch before stuffing his hand into his jacket pocket. They approach a heavy, gray door- no clearance scanner this time- and enter through it into a long hallway. “Okay, you won’t be spending a lot of time in this area, but it’s useful to know anyway. The rooms down here are used as small med rooms, kind of like mini ERs. We have a couple doctors we’ve picked up and recruited along with a couple first responders. We don’t have any MRI machines or anything, but we have a decent amount of supplies.”

Verin stares wistfully at the closed doors. “I was going to school to be a first responder. Paramedic,” she says in a thoughtful daze. Justin slows and looks at her with a raised brow.

“Yeah? I’ll tell Chris. You might be getting a job after all.” Verin clears out of her nostalgic fog and a rush of excitement pours through her.

“Really? Serious?”

“I can’t promise anything. All I can promise is an interview and assessment. If Chris trusts you: yeah. You might get a med job, but it’s not gonna be anything like what you would’ve experienced as a paramedic. Not many injuries happen here besides our mechanics or the occasional sheltered being an ass and getting in a fight.” 

“Sheltered?” Verin questions.

“Yeah, y’know, the civilians living here. The escapees, refugees, whatever you wanna call them.” Verin buzzes with hope and excitement at the prospect of being an on site medic, regardless of how often she would actually get to practice. They take a right and approach a door at the end of the hallway, card reader present. Justin shuffles slowly towards it as he wrestles the keycard out of his pocket, huffing as he taps it to the black box. “Okay, this is where you’ll be spending most of your time.” He wrenches the door open and holds it as she slides through. Inside is another large room, cafeteria style tables lined in rows throughout the space. On the far right is a kitchen fronted by a long serving counter. 

The rest of the tour is uneventful. The civilian section consists of the cafeteria, a recreational room, a small gym equipped with various weights, a few stationary bikes, and a basketball hoop; and finally, the bunks. The room is by far the largest, with rows of old hospital style beds accompanied by a bedside dresser. A dozen or so people currently occupy the room, laid out on their beds or talking amongst themselves. Justin swerves around where Verin stands lost in the doorway and pats an empty bed. “This is you.”

Verin shifts her eyes around and she approaches the bed and drops her backpack beside it. “So…what do I do now?” She asks, a little intimidated.

“Rest. You’ll need it. And get some food; we’ll be giving you a meal card soon, but in the meantime just tell the kitchen who you are and that Justin says to give you food or he’ll beat their asses,” he says with mock sternness before dissolving into a smile. “See you later, newbie. I’ll be around if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Verin says sincerely. Justin gives a two finger salute and turns on his heels, closing the heavy door behind him.

Gloved fingers turn the deadbolt to the office and makeshift room before tugging on the fraying chord, blinding the room to the outside world. Darkness encases the quarters until flickering light splits it open, an electrified hum buzzing dully. Chris sighs, rotating his neck and tossing his gear on the cot pressed against the wall. Tenderly, he zips open the breast pocket of his black canvas jacket and removes the crimped photo that resides there. He stares at it a moment, his padded finger framing the worn edge with a gentle touch. He lays the photo on his sunken pillow and rips off his jacket, hanging it in the single locker behind his desk. He stuffs the rest of his unwashed gear into the cramped space and slams the door with a rusty squeak. With heavy steps, he returns to his cot, flopping down onto his back with a grunt, and closes his eyes. 

Tags: @abiomens @high-wire @spookieolson @rumoured-whispers @exitwoundsx @joyofbebbanburg @miss570

[fandomficsnstuff]

Wolves And Hounds - 14

(Warnings: Angst, a hint of fluff and more angst with a soft ending:3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was night when she first heard the snapping branch, her head lifting from his shoulder as she looked around in the darkness, the fire but embers next to them and she was suddenly aware of how cold she felt. She had gotten better clothing, mostly from a bandit or two who thought it was a good idea to take on a man like Sandor Clegane and at least he had the decency to give the ones with the least amount of blood on it from the… ‘encounter’. “Sandor?”

“Hm” he grumbled, eyes still shut as she looked around, heart starting to race as she felt a cold feeling spread through her, and not from any cold night air. “Someone’s here” she whispered and instantly he was awake. He’d found out through their few days on the road that she wouldn’t say things like that unless it wasn’t actually something to worry about, a wolf daring to brave the path to them as the flames of their fire died out in the night, or something else daring to approach… people… it’s how the bandits thought they had a shot, approaching in the night. But they didn’t have a shot and now they were dead and long gone, one of them laying in only his small clothes next to his dead friends as well as a ruined corset and the skirt of a dress. Both Sandor and Karliah listened closely for a long while, both of them on edge until finally… nothing. Sandor laid his head back down, eyes closing as he grunted a little, trying to get comfortable again. Karliah continued to stay awake, her head still lifted from his shoulders, surveying the darkness as that gnawing feeling of being watched just-... wouldn’t go away. “Dove, if you’re gonna keep me up for another second I’ll-”

“What? Kill me? I’d haunt your fucking dreams” she whispered and he scoffed “you already are” he grumbled and she glared at him, attempting to mean it but she just couldn’t, just like she couldn’t shake that nagging feeling. Sandor groaned and sat up “if anyone’s out there, either fuck off or attack us and get it over with!!” he shouted into the darkness before laying back down, Karliah staring at him with wide eyes, listening to the darkness for a while longer before hesitantly laying back down, placing her head on his shoulder once more and his arm wrapped around her, making her smile a little as she closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep again.

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

Karliah yawned as she slowly turned the rabbit on the stick over the fire that she had blown life back into, her knees tucked to her chest until she heard clothes ruffling and a hand gently tapping at her back, just to get her attention and she turned to look at Sandor. “The fuck’re you doing up this early?” he asked quietly and she shrugged lightly “got hungry” she admitted, looking back at the rabbit she cooked before taking it away from the fire, examining it on the stick and Sandor sat up with a frown when he saw it. “Where the fuck did you get that from?”

“I caught it?”

“You caught it? With fucking what?”

“Your dagger.”

“My dagger?”

“Yes. Your dagger…”

“How the fuck-”

“I threw it and it hit the rabbit and, well,” she lifted up the stick the skinned and cooked rabbit was on “breakfast” she stated with a shrug, blowing carefully on the cooked meat before hesitantly placing her fingers on it, testing the warmth and if she could pull some of the meat off to begin to eat, Sandor watching her closely with a frown. “You threw a dagger and-”

“Seven hells, Sandor! Yes, I threw a dagger at a rabbit and hit it!”

“And you skinned it?!”

“Obviously” she pointed out with a scoff, finally being able to tear off some of the cooked meat, holding it over her shoulder at him, offering it and he scoffed, reaching for it before snatching it, eating it and he had to admit, it was actually okay…

“See? I’m not completely helpless.”

“Aye, not completely” he grumbled and she playfully glared at him before picking at the rabbit meat, eating it as Sandor got up, grabbing some of the meat as well as he walked around the small camp, beginning to pack up.

“You know, a horse wouldn’t be such a bad idea” she stated with a shrug as she continued to eat, offering him what was left of the rabbit on the stick once she was done and felt that she’d had enough, Sandor scoffing as he took it and began to eat the rest of the rabbit “if you spot a purse full of coin and a stables, let me know” he muttered with sarcasm and Karliah scoffed “sure, and while we’re at it, maybe we - excuse me, I - can replace the dress you ruined.”

“Yer can’t wear a dress in this-”

“So you’re saying that you wouldn’t want to see me in a dress?” she asked with a smirk, watching how he froze for a moment, his eyes moving to her and she innocently tilted her head, watching as his eyes took in her body freely and she grinned “aye, I’ll get you that dress one day… so I can tear it off you again” he stated bluntly and she bit her lower lip, attempting to suppress her grin. “You’ll have to get me a lot of dresses, then, if that’s how they’ll all end up.”

“Maybe just one or two on the floor… maybe” he stated casually, watching how she smirked almost with excitement as he just continued to eat the rest of the rabbit, her eyes locked onto his lips and she couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel someplace… else… someplace they’d never been before…

She was so lost in her own thoughts and fantasies that when someone grabbed her and put a knife to her throat, jumping out from the nearby tree line, she hadn’t even seen it coming, her eyes wide as she gasped, Sandor already standing up with his sword out, the rest of the rabbit forgotten and she can’t remember ever seeing him this angry… “careful now, Hound. I don’t want to, but I won’t hesitate to hurt your pretty little lady” the voice spoke and Karliah felt her heart race, her eyes moving to the men coming out of hiding in the woods, surrounding them and she frowned, flinching as one of the men disarmed Sandor roughly, the men tying his hands behind him and she struggled, briefly, against her captor’s hold, making a small cut appear on her neck from the knife and she winced in pain, the blade cold, leaving goosebumps in it’s way and she felt a single drop of her blood run down the length of her throat. “Quiet now, ‘Dove’” the man whispered and Karliah’s blood ran ice cold at the nickname, her eyes moving to Sandor as rope was tied around him, locking his arms in place and preventing him from moving them much. As soon as he was tied firmly, she was pushed towards him, only for a man to catch her, spinning her around and grabbing her wrists, tying them together behind her back before spinning her back around to face him, a quiver of arrows on his back, a bow over his shoulder as he smirked at her “what’s your nam-” she launched her head forward, knocking her forehead against his nose and he stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood stained his hands, Karliah blowing her hair out of her face, straightening up a little and Sandor smirked at her with a darkened gaze that made her blood run hot, every nerve in her body set alight, ready to be lit on fire by him and him only. “You bitch!” the man she’d hit shouted, approaching, rope in his hands and he tied it around her arms just like with Sandor, a look of anger in his eyes as he did so. She kept his gaze defiantly before a hood was thrown over her face, plunging her into darkness and her heart began to race, panic flooding her. “Get this thing off of me!! Sandor-” she cut herself off as she was shoved forward, right into something hard and she instantly relaxed, recognising him by his scent. “Lay a hand on her again and I’ll rape your fucking corpse!” Sandor growled as he was forced forward, Karliah being shoved along with him.

She wasn’t sure for how long they walked but the sounds of other people began to fill the air, getting through the hood over her head and reaching her ears. She could hear Sandor as he threatened the man she’d knocked her head against his nose, Sandor’s voice a source of comfort for her, until suddenly they all stopped. She heard a voice speak to Sandor and her heart raced, her brows knitting under the hood as she thought she recognised the voice. But it couldn’t be. She was dead. Right? She was dead… before she could think further on it she was shoved forward again, hearing a thud and a grunt and someone saying something about minding their head and soon she was forced up a few steps into a carriage, her heart racing as she was forced to sit down next to Sandor, another man sitting down next to her in return.

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

She winced as she was forced down some stones, the sound of a waterfall background noise as she winced in pain, one of the rocks having cut her when she slipped and she hissed but continued walking, feet unsteady and hesitant as she had no idea where she was, her sight robbed of her, leaving her like a newborn with no one to truly guide her, only someone shoving her forward, occasionally forcing her to turn left or right to follow whatever path they deemed. Soon the waterfall faded and the sound of crackling fire could be heard, her heart racing as she was made to stand still, hearing someone approaching and suddenly her hood was ripped off, her eyes squinting as she adjusted to the flames right in front of her, a frown on her brows as she looked up at Sandor, seeing him still with his hood on, her binds being cut and her heart raced. “There you go, M’Lady” a man mumbled and as she turned to look around, her eyes widened in shock. There, past some flames, stood a young girl, talking with a boy, head turned and unaware of Karliah, her knees weak at the sight of the little girl. “Arry..” she sobbed quietly, taking a hesitant step towards the girl. “Arya!” she called out, the girl looking in her direction and her big eyes grew even bigger. She raced over to her, wrapping her arms around her and Karliah sobbed as she leaned down, her hands still tied, leaving her unable to hug her back. Arya quickly parted from her, hastily undoing the ropes, ignoring everyone that asked what she was doing. “I thought you were dead! I thought Joffrey had killed you! I thought he’d kill you too” Arya babbled and the second she was free, Karliah pulled Arya into a tight hug, letting out a shaky sob “I thought you were dead… I thought you were dead and I’m so sorry… They wouldn’t let me out of the Keep to look for you, I’m so sorry” Karliah whispered, Arya hugging her even tighter, making Karliah smile in relief and bliss. She quickly parted from Arya, cupping her cheeks in her hands as she kneeled down “Sansa. Your sister. She’s alive as well…” Karliah revealed, her thumbs gently rubbing Arya’s cheeks “Seven Hells, girl…” she cussed before pulling Arya into another tight hug. “Gods, I’ve been so worried” Karliah admitted, letting out a shaky sigh “where have you been all this time?!”

“Yoren, a man of the Night’s Watch, was supposed to take me to the Wall, to Jon, but the Lannisters killed him…”

“Your hair…”

“Yoren cut it… so I’d look like a boy…”

“Clever…” Karliah admitted, kneeling down and kissing the top of her head lovingly “you’ve always been clever, Arry” she muttered as she hugged Arya, Arya smiling against her. “Hold on, ‘Arry’? How’d you know that name?” a boy, the boy she’d been talking with, stepped forward, asking, and Karliah frowned at him “it’s what I’ve always called her…” she admitted and looked down at Arya, who shrugged ever so slightly, sheepishly, “I-I might’ve-... called myself that… while pretending to be a boy” she admitted and Karliah chuckled with amusement “you’ve always been clever.”

She looked over at Sandor, a frown forming when she saw that he was still tied up with a hood on.

As the hood was removed, he flinched back from the fire in front of him, turning to his side where Karliah had been and she let go of Arya to hurry over to Sandor “I’m alright” she whispered, her heart racing as she looked at the rope around him as he scoffed, talking with the others as she moved to untie him. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you, M’Lady” one of the men spoke and she froze, looking up at him, her jaw clenched in anger and Arya frowned “why are you helping him??” she asked with shock and suspicion and Karliah looked over her shoulder at her, glancing up at Sandor who kept his eyes on her, as if wanting to allow her to answer. Karliah hesitated before stepping towards Arya, a frown on her brows as she sighed “he’s-... my husband” she admitted quietly, Arya’s eyes widening in shock, looking between the two “you married him?!”

“It’s more complicated than that, Arry-”

“Weren’t exactly by choice” Sandor grumbled to himself and Karliah glared at him “Sandor!” she snapped and he rolled his eyes “the fuck’re you all doin’ with the Stark girl anyway-?”

“My Lady Stark” a voice called and she looked up, her eyes widening at the man she saw. And recognised. “Ser Beric? What-... What’s going on?” she asked as she looked around, stepping a little closer to the Lord of Blackhaven. “The last I saw you, my brother sent you out to deal with-” she looked up at Sandor before looking back at Beric “some pillagers…”

“Aye, he did. Your brother was a good man, an honest man. I’m sorry for your loss” he stated sincerely and Karliah nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, letting out a shaky sigh “thank you, I appreciate that.”

“I had heard the sister of Ned Stark had been forced to marry the king’s personal lapdog, under Joffrey’s orders… Are you here by choice?”

“That’s-... complicated” she admitted sheepishly, looking up at Sandor before sighing “please, untie him?”

“My Lady-”

“Please, Ser Beric” Karliah pleaded, Beric studying her before looking up at Sandor who hadn’t taken his eyes off of Karliah. “I’m afraid we can’t do that, My Lady.”

“Stark deserters, Baratheon deserters…” Sandor scoffed as he looked around and Karliah sighed, closing her eyes in annoyance for a brief moment before opening them again. “You lot aren’t fighting in a war, you’re running from it!”

“Last I heard, you were King Joffrey’s guard dog and had broken every tradition and rule and taken a wife. Yet here you are, 1,000 miles from home… which of us is running?”

“Untie these ropes and we’ll find out” Sandor growled and Karliah had had enough, moving to step between the two. “Boys, you’re both very pretty with big cocks. Now shut up” she snapped, Sandor looking down at her with a harsh glare, one that should make her cower but she just raised a brow at him, a silent challenge and he grunted in annoyance and let out a huff, making Karliah nod to herself. She turned to Baric, studying him before crossing her arms over her chest “why are we here, Ser Baric?”

“Truthfully, we only intended to grab the Hound, and we would have, had he been alone. It seems my men didn’t know who you were, otherwise they would have cleaned that cut on your throat” he stated and pointed at the nick she had gotten when they had first taken her and her husband, her hand moving up, thoughtlessly running her fingers along the dirty wound. “What are you doing, leading a mob of peasants?” Sandor asked with a scoff, taking a step closer, his chest against Karliah’s back and she felt an odd sense of comfort from the touch, even through his armour. “Ned Stark ordered me to execute your brother in King Robert’s name-”

“Ned Stark is dead. King Robert is dead. My brother is alive” he spat next to him after speaking to get his point across, of course avoiding Karliah, before looking back up at Beric “you’re fighting for ghosts” he added, Beric smirking a little “that’s what we are. Ghosts. Ghosts waiting for you in the dark. You can’t see us, but we see you… no matter whose cloak you wear - Lannister, Stark, Baratheon - you prey on the weak, the Brotherhood without Banners will hunt you down.”

“You found God, is that it?”

“Aye. I’ve been reborn in the light of the one true God… as have we all… as would any man who’s seen the thing we’ve seen.”

“If you mean to murder me then bloody well get on with it. Just let my wife go” he stated calmly yet with a growl and Karliah scoffed, looking up at Sandor with soft eyes “until the end of my days” she reminded him and he looked down at her, his entire expression softening and she gave him a soft smile that melted his ice-cold heart, his dead heart beating a single time. Just for her. And he finally realised why he abandoned all he’s ever known, leaving everything behind in King’s Landing, taking the one thing, the one person, who ever truly mattered to him, the last person who’d ever matter, no one else would come after her.

The one person he loved.

[morningmask27]

did a quick little thing for rda. it’s not even 500 words, but I realized I nearly only had angst in the things I wrote, so here’s a short fun thing about shenanigans during a ThunderClan border patrol

Sorreltail followed Brightheart as Thornclaw led the dans patrol through the undergrowth. She yawned and stretched her muscles before hearing a faint rustle coming from the bushes behind her. Brightheart had seemingly heard it too as she slowed her pace. 

The rustling grew louder and louder until a squirrel rushed from under one of the bushes. Sorreltail flinched slightly, but quickly came back to her senses as Mousepaw erupted out of the bushes, covered in leaves and with a wild look in his eyes. 

"Don't let it escape!" He yelled. 

Sorreltail was too far away from the squirrel to chase it, but Brightheart tried to bat it with her paw. The squirrel dodged her and kept running on a forest path, coincidentally the same one that Thornclaw was on. 

“Thornclaw, the squirrel!” Mousepaw ran faster than a WindClan cat past both Sorreltail and Brightheart, scattering leaves everywhere. The squirrel had already reached Thornclaw when he heard Mousepaw. He turned his head, only to be met with the squirrel using his head as a platform to reach a branch higher up. 

That jump pushed Thornclaw to the ground but Mousepaw finished him by colliding with the brown tabby in a wild mess of fur and paws. Brightheart ran over and helped Mousepaw up. He actually didn’t need help as he jumped up immediately, seemingly unharmed.

‘Sorry Thornclaw. Sorry sorry sorry sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen!” He explained, jumping up and down as he looked at Thornclaw, who was still laying dazed on the dirt. Sorreltail finally reached the three cats and let out a mrowr of amusement when she saw that Thornclaw wasn’t harmed either. 

“Never do something like this,” was the only thing Thornclaw could mutter. “And don’t tell anyone what happened, ever.” He tentatively stood up and saw that he could move without issues. 

Mousepaw had finished jumping and looked up to the trees. His tail was wildly moving from side to side. 

“You’re not thinking of catching that squirrel again?” Brightheart asked, barely hiding her amusement. 

“but it looked like such a good piece of prey, and I need to avenge Thornclaw for how the squirrel used him to-”

“Don”t you finish that phrase unless you want to clean all the bedding in camp for a moon,” Thornclaw hissed. 

Mousepaw immediately closed his mouth and nodded. 

“What do you think about continuing this patrol?” Sorreltail suggested before Mousepaw could say something that would irritate Thornclaw again. 

Thornclaw nodded and shook the dust out of his fur. “Yes, let’s go,” he said, “WindClan will use any weakness we show them to their advantage. We can’t let that happen.” He already walked off, leaving Brightheart, Sorreltail and Mousepaw to follow after him. Mousepaw cast one last glance towards where the squirrel escaped. 

“One day I’ll catch a squirrel, one day!”

[wh0lemilk0vich]

you said you wanted angst and i’m here to deliver. in my head, stevie is relatively confident in herself but struggles with changes, whether it’s day to day things like a doctor’s appointment being canceled or bigger changes like what’s been happening to her body since she started estrogen and dating eddie (mostly dating eddie). every morning, she has at least one full glass of water before her coffee, goes for a short run around the neighborhood, takes a piping hot shower (it helps with her chronic pain), and gets dressed in the outfit she picked the night before for her shift at the diner. one morning, her alarm doesn’t go off and she wakes up on her own 10 minutes late. this isn’t a big deal until she realizes they’re out of filtered water, so unless she wants to run to the store or drink suspicious tap water, she has to just skip to her coffee. when she goes to take her usual run, she discovered that they’re doing roadwork on the path she usually runs so she just does a short loop before arriving home. when she finally undresses and steps into the shower, looking forward to the heat on her body, it comes out ice cold. her sour mood immediately turns on her boyfriend, knowing that his affinity for 30 minute showers probably wiped out all the hot water while she was busy scrambling to find some semblance of routine. after scrubbing her body just enough to call it acceptable, she marches to their shared room and starts tearing into eddie a bit about the water. he matches her energy, and the two quarrel about the things like stevie picking up extra shifts that disrupt their days off together and eddie leaving his socks around. when eddie makes a jab about her being spoiled, stevie (still in just a towel mind you) spits in his face and smiles because spoiled girls get to be brats. eddie grabs her hands and pins her against the wall, causing the towel to fall as he begins biting her neck harshly and squeezing her chunky hips. he pulls her to the bed and onto his lap, spanking her and watching the fat of her ass and thighs ripple while she whimpers and eggs him on. she ends up cumming from just the spanking and eddie fucks her supple tits, cumming all over her face and tongue. as they calm down and hold each other, they’re able to have an honest conversation about their stresses and brainstorm some solutions (because they’ve done this song and dance with argument as foreplay before). when the two finally notice the time and realize they need to get to work, stevie’s outfit for today was crumpled on the floor from the sex kerfuffle, but the funny thing is it didn’t even bother her, especially not after noticing the huge cumstain on the inside collar. rockstar!eddie thots to come later this week (ft dressing room sex, grinding a guitar on stage, and tearing of leather pants as performance art but also because it’s sexy).

-🫑

As an adhd-er with a strong need for consistency I can 1000000% relate to many little changes leading to disregulation, overstimulation, and meltdown. I would be the absolute worst brat if all of that happened to me.

I love this so much

"Really Eddie!?"

"What? Wanna clue me in, princess?"

"You didn't leave me any hot water! Hot water hog."

"I'd be real careful about which words your using, Stevie. Glass houses and all that. How do you think I feel when I get the shower after you?"

"But at least I'm not in there for the whole fucking morning. I mean Jesus, Edds, I don't ask for much. All I fucking wanted after this stupid fucking morning was for my stupid Goddamn shower to be hot!"

Eddie grabbing hold of her and trying to calm her down.

"Baby, calm down. You're being a raging fucking cunt acting a little hysterical right now."

Stevie hears the former even if Eddie said the latter and spits in his face like you said, and that when Eddie goes furiously calm and needs to do some brat taming.

Pressing her against the wall, tugging her head back and growling hot and severe in her ear.

"Poor little rich girl. Was the water temperature not to her majesty's liking? The water pressure? What's it going to be next, thread count not high enough on the sheets? Sorry they're not Egyptian cotton, your highness. God, you're so fucking spoiled."

Tugging her towel off and she's already half hard. He bends her over his lap, his own hardness pressing through his boxers against her soft belly. He starts spanking her.

"It's my fault really *smack* I love to spoil my baby girl *smack* and fuck if it isn't starting to show, Stevie. I mean look at this ass, it's- it's fucking obscene, Stevie *smack*. Don't think I don't see you through the order window, flirting with those letter jacket wearing neanderthal fucks. I can see them too, practically breaking their necks to check out this fat *smack* fucking *smack* ass *smack*. They don't know that it's daddy keeping you well fed, happy, curvy. So Daddy's going to need you to dial back the bitch, ok, baby girl. You understand?"

And Stevie, who's sniveling and hard and has already cum her body feels like jelly nods.

And Eddie's just like

"See, now you've gotten me all worked up, this is what you do to me baby. I'm gonna need your help."

And he spreads his legs and tugs down his boxers, hooking them under his balls, and his big donkey dick. And Stevie moves between his legs, sitting back on her knees, ass mounding behind her, she can feel Eddie digging his calves and knees into her plump, plush softness 🥵.

She sucks him off, using his hands to make up for the shortfall of her mouth. She loves sucking Eddie off because he's so vocal. He moans, groans, grunts like a pornstar, panting little "oh fuck"s and hisses tumbling past his lips. Eventually, he does take over, grabbing a fistful of her hair, thrusting into her mouth, her throat, face fucking her but still trying to be gentle. Then, yes then when he's spit slick and desperate for a last few strokes, he has Stevie press her tits around him and chases down his orgasm giving her a pearl necklace, chuckling and caressing her cheek.

"There's my princess."

[truly-morgan]

[Song lyrics, past relationship, angst]

ChengXian | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 22-10-2021

[past relationship #chengxian, angst 🔪]

So I listen to colors by hasley on my way back from work and I couldn't stop thinking "Oh, this could be good for some angsty pas-relationship chengxian 👁️👄👁️"

"You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky And you decided purple just wasn't for you"

like come on don't tell me this couldn't work if we play a bit with colour.

and lwj is blue now //

"You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink"

describing how wwx is from jc perspective I think it works well//

(Yes am sure am mixing up "who" the paragraphs are supposed to describe, but let me have fun okay!)

"Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seams And it's blue And it's blue"

I'd make this about jc, probably all think blue that could relate. Maybe teenager jc even//

"Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color He don't know what it means And he's blue And he's blue"

now, this could be jc when they are a bit older, maybe in college forcing himself into a path he does not want.//

"You were a vision in the morning When the light came through I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you You said you'll never be forgiven 'til your boys are too And I'm still waking every morning but it's not with you"

jc thinking back to when they were younger and maybe still living together in the same room. Then future arrives and wwx is no longer by his side.//

"Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so You said your mother only smiled on her TV show You're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old"

I also like this one, although I feel like I'd tweak it a bit for it to work.

"[] never tells you but he loves you so" maybe jyl, as loving as she can act, she doesn't necessarily make it clear and in times of doubt jc needs this clarity.

"you said your mother only smiled on her tv show"

I'd make this about jfm honestly, how he only act like a father when he's in front of other people but is otherwise not like that. Maybe a tired yzy who doesn't smile as much anymore unless its to keep the image.

"you're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope"

I was gonna change the ending, ut you know what? stressed out jc who need an outlet and hangs out with nhs would probably try it and keep doing it if it makes him feel better

"I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old"

jc talking to himself. jc not believe he'll actually survive 'til he's 28 because unresolved mental health issues are fun 👍 (/s)

I basically changed the whole start of the song great jbdsuhvbsd//

but just imagine, jc and wwx growing up together and jc ends up falling for him, turning purple (and maybe where everything spirals down too). but with these changes, its makes wwx slowly turn around to find someone else whose blue

please don't analyse what my sleep-deprived brain comes up with, I just thought it could be an interesting idea if we take the colour thing literally.

(but if we work with the music video then maybe I can turn this into some ruocheng or rencheng!! I don't know much about what the fuck the song is supposed to be about and am going very surface level right now, let me imagine sad jc for once I too can have a turn to the table sometimes )

Original

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain: Chapter 13

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Kili groaned as he saddled his pony. His muscles ached so much, he wasn’t quite sure how he would fare riding the ponies to Mirkwood.

“Are you all right there, Kili?” Oreliell asked as she passed, a small smile on her face.

“Oh yes, just fine,” he replied, putting on a confident facade and standing up straighter.

“Need any help?”

“Nope! I’ve got it perfectly handled, thank you.”

Oreliell smiled and walked away. As soon as her back was turned, Kili slumped his shoulders again. Gloin chuckled from behind him. 

“All right, brother?” Fili asked, approaching him with his own pony already saddled.

“I don’t understand how you’re not sore after yesterday.”

“I wasn’t the one knocked down four times.”

Kili shot a glare at his brother, who laughed. The two mounted their ponies, settling in as the company prepared to leave while Gandalf talked with Beorn a distance away. While they waited, they chose to observe what was happening around them. Or at least Kili was. Fili was making sure that he had all of his knives safely in their secured spots within his coat, shirt, and shoes. Several of the dwarves were helping each other mount the ponies. Bilbo still looked a bit ridiculous sitting on a pony.

Kili’s eyes eventually fell on his uncle after he called out to Gandalf. Thorin was talking to Dwalin and Balin, most likely discussing their travel plans. Not long after, Oreliell approached, her horse right alongside her. Kili watched the small group talk for several minutes before talking to his brother.

“What are your thoughts about Oreliell?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Fili said.

“What do you think of her?”

Fili looked at his brother in confusion before glancing over at the elf in question.

“I don’t know. I mean she’s a great warrior and she and her sister have been incredibly helpful since we met them. Not to mention she has been really friendly with the lot of us, despite some of the hesitation we showed at first. I don’t think I can say something negative about her.”

Kili nodded.

“And what about her relationship with Thorin?”

Fili stopped.

“What?”

“Oreliell and Thorin!” He motioned to the two of them. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how close they are.”

“They’ve been friends for several years, Kili. Of course they’re going to be close.”

“But when was the last time you saw uncle look at a woman, or anyone that way?”

“Kili-”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Actually look and tell me I’m wrong, Fili.”

Before they could turn their attention to the couple in question, Gandalf joined the company and mounted his horse. Everyone urged their ponies forward. Orcs were after them, so they needed to move quickly. 

The ride didn’t seem to take too long, which they were all thankful for. Gandalf slowed in the lead as they approached a large forest. It looked overgrown, yet also withered in places.

“The Elven Gate,” Gandalf said after dismounting and examining the forest entrance. “Here lies our path through Mirkwood.”

“No sign of the orcs,” Dwalin said. “We have luck on our side.”

The company dismounted and set to work on gathering their supplies from the ponies. 

“Set the ponies loose! Let them return to their master.”

“This forest feels sick,” Bilbo said. “As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?”

“Not unless we go two hundred miles north,” Oreliell said, “or twice that distance south.”

A couple of the dwarves grumbled as they unloaded their ponies. Soon enough, the ponies were released. They seemed to know where to go as they turned around and ran back the way they had come.

“Not my horse!” Gandalf suddenly cried, returning to them. His shout caused everyone to turn toward him. “I need it.”

“You’re not leaving us,” Bilbo said.

“I would not do this unless I had to.”

Fili looked at his brother as it began to rain lightly.

“What good is a wizard if he keeps leaving?” he muttered.

They heard someone shuffle behind them. The princes looked over their shoulders. Vedis had a smile on her face, and raised an amused eyebrow at the two of them.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor,” Gandalf said, turning away from Bilbo and toward Thorin. “Keep the map and key safe. Do not enter that mountain without me. This is not the Greenwood of old. There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray. You must stay on the path. Do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again.” He finally mounted his horse and rode away. “No matter what may come, stay on the path!”

Thorin made his way through the company, heading to the gate.

“Come on,” he said. “We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin’s Day.”

“Let’s go,” Dwalin said, following after him. Kili nudged Fili’s arm and went in after Dwalin.

“This is our one chance to find the hidden door.”

The company filed after Thorin and proceeded to make their way into the forest. No one really spoke as they walked, too focused on keeping the path under their feet. The further they moved inward, the more twisted the trees seemed to become. Like Bilbo had said before, everything looked sickly.

However, Kili also seemed to notice that his mind was becoming slightly foggy. He shook his head, as if to clear it. He stumbled over a tree root and nearly fell face forward. He only barely managed to keep his balance when Oreliell grabbed the back of his coat.

“Easy,” she said.

He nodded to her, managing to gain a little clarity. Meanwhile, the others made comments about their own dizziness.

Kili looked up and noticed that the path seemed to come to a stop. But then he realized why.

“We found the bridge,” he said.

A few others pushed by him to see, quickly noticing their predicament. The bridge had collapsed.

“We could try and swim it,” Bofur suggested.

“Didn’t you not hear what Gandalf said?” Thorin said. “A dark magic lies upon this forest. The waters of this stream are enchanted.”

“Doesn’t look very enchanting to me.”

“We must find another way across.”

Kili noticed a collection of vines off to the side. He went over and grabbed the nearest one, testing its strength against his own.

“These vines look strong enough,” he said.

He went to start crossing, but was stopped by Thorin.

“Kili! We send the lightest first.”

Kili stepped away from the vines. A few things happened in that next moment. Most of the company turned to look at Bilbo. However, Kili noticed that Oreliell moved to step forward, only to be stopped by Thorin. Kili looked at them. They spoke in hushed voices so no one could hear, but they seemed to be arguing. Before Kili could truly comprehend what he was seeing, the two separated and went back to their previous positions. It all happened so fast that Kili wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. The forest couldn’t have been messing with his mind that much, could it?

Bilbo came forward and began to slowly cross the river. He stumbled every now and then. Several times, Kili thought he was going to fall in. Bilbo finally made it across, landing in a heap on the ground.

Thorin motioned for the company to start moving. He took the lead, following a path similar to Bilbo’s. Kili exchanged a brief look with his brother as the other dwarves started their journey across the river. He grabbed hold of a vine, testing its strength again before stepping onto another vine.

It was slow moving, but they made progress. Just a little bit further and they would reach the other side.

Suddenly, there was a splash. Kili looked down to see Bombur floating in the river, sound asleep.

“Bombur!” Bofur said. “Hang on, cousin!”

“Don’t!” Oreliell called.

The company looked back at her, finding her and Vedis still standing on the other side of the river.

“What are you two still doing over there?” Dori asked.

“Everyone finish crossing,” Oreliell said. “Vedis and I will pull Bombur out. Start making a stretcher though, he’s going to be asleep for a while still.”

Several dwarves seemed hesitant to keep moving, but eventually did with some nudging from the others. When they touched dry land again, they started assembling a stretcher using supplies Bilbo had grabbed. Kili watched as the sisters easily crossed through the vines.

They got to where Bombur was and lowered themselves close to the water. Each drew their sword and cut down several of the more sturdy vines around them. Kili watched in amazement as they worked together to guide Bombur toward the shore while still moving gently across the hanging vines. They took their time, making sure to keep their balance while keeping Bombur within reach. Vedis touched the shore first and grabbed hold of Bombur’s feet to keep him steady. Oreliell joined her and together, they pulled Bombur to shore.

“Is the stretcher ready?” Oreliell said. Nori and Ori brought it forward. “Help us get him on. We’ll have to carry him.”

Once Bombur was settled on the stretcher, they started moving again. They were slower this time than before thanks to the added weight. The company took turns carrying Bombur. Eventually, it was Fili, Kili, Dwalin, and Bofur’s turn.

The further they walked, the more disoriented Kili felt. His mind felt foggy and he had stumbled over his feet several times. The others seemed to be in a similar state. All except for Oreliell and Vedis. Kili wondered if it had to do with their elven heritage that they weren’t as affected as the rest of them.

It was Nori who ended up calling for a rest. The company came to a halt, mumbling to themselves as they swayed.

“Voices,” Bilbo suddenly said. “Can you hear them?”

“I hear nothing,” Thorin replied. “No wind. No birdsong. What hour is it?”

“I do not know,” Dwalin said from behind Kili. “I do not even know what day it is.”

“This is taking too long. Is there no end to this accursed forest?”

“None that I can see,” Gloin said. “Only trees and more trees.”

“We are making good time,” Oreliell spoke up. “The forest’s magic alters the mind’s perceptions.”

Thorin suddenly started pushing through the dwarves. 

“This way,” he said, starting down an unmarked path. 

“But Gandalf said-”

“Do as I say. Follow me!”

Slowly, the dwarves followed after him.

“Thorin, no-” Oreliell said, trying to stop them.

“Come on!”

“Thorin!” Her voice became more and more distant as Thorin led them deeper into the woods.

They weren’t sure how long they traveled before they realized that they had lost the path. They searched and searched for it, but it seemed to be long gone. Balin pointed out that it would be best to keep moving in the same direction they had been moving in.

“Look,” Ori suddenly said, bending down to pick something up.

“A tobacco pouch,” Dori said. “There’s dwarves in these woods.”

“Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less,” Bofur added. “This is exactly the same as mine.”

“That’s because it is yours,” Bilbo said. “You understand? We’re going round in circles. We are lost.”

“We’re not lost,” Thorin. replied. “We keep heading east.”

“But which way is east? We’ve lost the sun,” Oin whined.

“I thought you were the expert,” Dwalin grumbled.

“I’m not the one who lost the sun!”

The dwarves started shoving one another, arguing about who lost the path or the sun. Kili stumbled as Fili was pushed into him, but regained his footing enough to push back.

“Enough!” Thorin shouted. “Quiet! All of you! We’re being watched.”

Kili woke up to the sensation of falling. He could barely move his limbs, trapped in some kind of sticky sack. His memory came back to him in flashes. Giant spiders had descended upon them out of nowhere. They had injected them with something that knocked them out and wrapped them in webs. Kili wildly tore at the webs, breaking through and breathing in the stale forest air.

“Fili!” he called.

“Here, Kili!” his brother responded, a few feet away.

Fili had gotten himself free first and moved to help Kili up.

“Quickly!” Thorin shouted. They looked up and saw more spiders climbing down toward them. “Run!”

Everyone had their swords drawn as they ran. Any spider that came close was hacked at and killed swiftly. Despite their efforts, more spiders kept coming. 

“Ori, look out!”

A figure suddenly dropped from the trees, their blade impaling itself into the oncoming spider’s head. The company paused in shock. Vedis looked up at them, a smirk on her face.

“Are we done here?” They spun again, finding Oreliell standing behind them, blood on her clothes and sword. “Because there are more coming.”

Her words seemed to snap them out of their thoughts and they started running. Kili went to go after them, but was grabbed from behind by a spider. He tried to hack at the creature with his sword, but couldn’t get a good enough angle. 

“Help!” he cried. He could barely hear his brother shout his name.

The spider knocked him to the ground, causing him to drop his sword. It then started to drag him back through the leaves by his foot. Out of nowhere, an elf dropped down from the trees and started killing spiders, shooting the one attacking Kili with an arrow. Kili stumbled to his feet, noticing yet another spider coming toward him. Unable to find his sword in the moment, he called to the elf.

“Throw me a dagger! Quick!”

“If you think I’m giving you a weapon, dwarf, you’re mistaken.”

Kili’s head spun again to look at the elf, taken aback that it was a woman who had saved him. He shouldn’t have been that surprised, given how many times the company had been saved by Oreliell and Vedis, but it still caught him off guard. The elven woman spun suddenly and threw a dagger, hitting the spider in the head just before it reached Kili.

Durinu shirumund, Kili thought as the woman stood to her full height. (translation: /By Durin's beard\)

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Okay I feel like this is going to be a long one, so i'll go ahead and turn my response into an incoherent list of observations, answers to questions or statements that probably don't require them, or to no question or statement in particular and maybe even an incidental unrelated fact or opinion:

Yes, it does suck, but also I decided to use a grater to make thin little flakes of chocolate just for the flavour.

Sucks you can't eat chocolate, are you lactose intolerant? 

Commas are, indeed, very important. Did you know they use commas in musical notation to tell singers when to breathe?

Related to that, singing lessons (or even singing in a choir or something similar) could help with your reading aloud and breathing issues for sure. Although I don't know if you have any singing experience so I'd understand if that's not your thing. I wish it would be everyone's thing though.

Just to throw in a completely random fact, as I am not about to jeopardise the promised incoherence of this list: In medieval times red hair was believed to be a sign of beastly sexual desire and moral degeneration. I assume by your blogname you too are a redhead. I read this today and thought it was wild.

Aching muscles are a sign of hard work, so good job, although it is very important to rest said limbs!

Great job for still going out and facing things you get anxious about, I imagine thats not an easy thing for you. I also hope you have help and/or coping mechanisms to deal with the anxiety you're experiencing.

You're description of the "heartbreak angst fic" is (probably intentionally) quite vague, but I can make out several points. 

I get not wanting big time jumps, although it could be fun to make a jump and then have R reflect what happened in between those moments in time. Could be a tad chaotic, but then again, you know me. 

R crossing paths with their ex sounds rather angsty, so my answer to that is: yes please.

Have you already thought out part 4 completely? I guess (without any context) I'd end exactly where part 4 takes off, but very open. A cliffhanger of sorts, without falling into too much of a cliché ending.

I'm sorry if my answer is too long to post. Although we were going to stop apologising for rambling so scratch this.

Sending you all the love my friend (can I call you my friend now?),

-Chaotic Anon

it's the way i read this, processed some answers but ended up having a nap, then dinner and i just- wow suddenly it's half an hour to midnight...

i can eat chocolate, it's just when i'm stressed my jaw and teeth hate me and it makes biting solid foods a bit grimace-y, y'know, i love chocolate, just not gooey stuff like gooey caramel stuff, don't like goop, it's a texture no no for me sksks

i did not, music was one of the very much underfunded classes when i was in school, before they started cutting hours subjects to make more room for maths, english and sciences. my confidence is on the floor with speaking, singing is... i can hum, humming is better for me, my friend liked my humming once.

yeah, i'm a natural redhead, which means that i need more anaesthetic if i go for any medical procedure (there's research to back it up, we're hard to knock out) and i think only 2% of the planet have red hair, so i stick out like a sore thumb and red heads are barely anyone's type unless it comes to Natasha Romanoff from Marvel, so that's fun... times change sksks

yeah we had to demonstrate that we could do cpr on a dummy for a minute, i fell over trying to stand up after, so that was great too.

my coping mechanisms for my anxiety are messy and depend on why i am anxious, but my psychology degree plus the cbt i've had in the past mean that i am super aware of my thought processes, but it's hard to stop my body from freaking out e.g. racing heart, clenching my jaw in my sleep... when i can sleep, etc

yeah i forgot the name of the fic, is Secret Love Song, my recent one, i have part 2 down, part 3 just feels stuck because i don't know where to end it, or when to post part 2, but R's development in part 2 and part 3 is key to the endings and I just... i'm stuck. also the only way R would cross paths with their ex is the ballon d'or ceremony... and i don't even know where to go with that, so... yeah...

no worries about longetivity, my fics have been in the 5k+ range before so... i have no shame sksks

sure, sure, if you want to be internet friends red haired anxious pineapple such as myself😅🤔 you don't have to be though.

[moon1forever]

StrongHold x Matalio ( Oc )

Their already dating in this time.

Warning ⚠️: Small angst, mostly fluff ☁️

Title: Cuddles

3rd POV:

Matalio walk around the base like her normal morning schedule, she wore her headphones, closing her eyes as she walked. She walked over the new path that leads to the elevator. Yet she instead look over into the deep darkness that shows under the bridge.

Everything has been different after that little kid took the Zodiac Stone and turned the Vicious 6 into rats, getting them back was the hardest part, she feels pressured when being alone. What’s worse is during their escape someone threw a knife at her and stabbed her leg.

She sit’s down and pull her pants up to reveal a ugly scar across her leg. Her breath grows heavy, She’s always had a fear for blood. She put’s the pant leg down and take a deep breath, reducing the stress. She sense something behind her. Taking the headphones off she then grabs a mirror and put it in front of her face.

Behind her, she sees StrongHold, she lower her guard, and put the mirror away. She turns around and smiles. Waiting for him to reveal himself.

“ I may be stupid but even I could tell you were spying on me! “ She says, crossing her arms.

He walks out and gives a chuckle. Hugging her without hesitation. “ Your not stupid, your beautiful and smart “ he says, lifting her up.

“ Thanks. You don’t always have to hide from me…..Unless we’re playing hide and seek. “ She says laughing at the last part.

Stronghold laughs as well before his expression changed. Matalio notices his expression and puts her hands on his face. Making him look at her. “ What’s wrong “ She asks with a worried tone.

“ I saw you look at your scar, I’m sorry I let that happen to you, I should have moved in front of you. I’m so- “ He was cut off by Matalio hugging him. “ You have nothing to be sorry for, it’s my fault, I wasn’t being carful “ She says.

“ I was reckless and didn’t check for the guards, but even when I did get hit, you stayed with me and help me. During and after i had gotten hurt “ She says, cupping his face with her hands. She smiles, before kissing his cheeks.

“ Your always reckless “ Stronghold says, nuzzling into Matalio’s neck. She laughs before yawning, stretching her arms out. “ Damn, I woke up to early….”

“ I mean you wake up at 4 in the morning “ he responds, yawning as well. Matalio, looks at him in shock, “ is that seriously the time I wake up at??? “ She asks, having a concerned tone in her voice.

Her partner nods before holding her bridal style, they both walk up stairs.

They then arrive at Stronghold’s room, he places a half awake Matalio on the bed as she grabs a warm pillow and holds it.

“ Love, go back into your sleeping clothes “ He says, taking the pillow away from Matalio, she grumbles before taking the sweater off, revealing her super flat chest and her tank top. She takes off the sweats to only show her black shorts.

“ Happy now “ She said, asking with a mad tone. He smiles at her, picking her up. He lays down and places her on his chest. Putting the blanket over both of them. “ Love you…” She says, yawning. She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

“ Love you too “ he says, kissing her forehead before rubbing her back and falling asleep.

The pose:

This was so wholesome to make 😭😭😭! I love this, I hope you guys enjoyed and I’m sorry that i haven’t been updating lately, I’ll try. But I hoped you liked this and if you want to see more send me a comment and I will write down the stories you want.

Have a great Day/Night/Evening!