#we will also continue fighting and supporting you to walk many more years together :')

[growingwithem]

"We saw how the fans were coming in, we saw how the place was filled... Donghae asked me 'Hyung many years have passed, what is the reason why they still like us?' I couldn't answer him, because I don't know either..."

—Leeteuk on his Youtube live talking about Super Show 9 in Japan, March 18 2023

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#14: The Magnetic Reunion (1.02)

First of all: 🎉💛🔥🥂😍🎉🔥🥂😭🎉💛🔥🥳

I’ve said it for years and it gets proven true at every turn - Rick and Michonne are magnets. 🧲

So I have half a mind to believe that part of why that helicopter came tumbling down was because it got caught in the intense magnetic force of Richonne. 😋 There was no way Rick and Michonne could be in the same atmosphere like that and not ultimately end up in each other's arms. I don’t care if Rick was thousands of feet in the sky, those magnets within these soulmates were going to send him crashing right down to Michonne. And that's exactly what happens in the continuation of this scene the world had been waiting for - Richonne's epic reunion 🙌🏽🥹...

So first Michonne and Nat are walking through the woods and headed home to ASZ. It's poetic that Nat helped Michonne see it's not giving up if she goes home, and then sure enough because she was willing to head home that puts her in the very position to find the man she's been looking for.

As they walk, Michonne is trying to reach Judith on the walkie-talkie and is clearly very eager to get home to her kids. I love that Nat again is so supportive as he assures her they’ll get in closer range to reach her babies soon...But then a helicopter can be heard ahead, piloted by Michonne's other baby lol. 😋 Love is truly in the air, y'all. 🙌🏽

Nat stops Michonne as they look up and see, “It’s them.”

Michonne looks ready to warning pop a whole helicopter as Nat says to grab the cart because they gotta go. Michonne “Never Run From The Fight,” Grimes says, “I’m not running from them, Nat” and Nat is on the same wavelength as he says, “Neither am I. Let’s go.”

gif cred: @richardgrimes

I love how Nat’s like 'honey, we gotta know when to go, and now is the time to go ham against the group that killed our friends and forced us to put life on pause for a year.'

Michonne is ready too as she takes out a walker and helps Nat set up the scream sticks.

gif cred: @nerd4music

Nat says the helicopter is flying super low - and that’s because that magnetic field is already doing its work to bring Richonne closer together. Amen. 😇

Nat fires the missile and I love seeing the final moment from ep 1 through Michonne and Nat’s lens. Nat thinks the first shot was a dud…but it most certainly was not. Ask Okafor lol. 😅 Nat’s aim is really spot-on as he fires more shots at the helicopter and it crashes.

Soldiers in black finally emerge on the ground and run amid the fiery scene as Nat continues to fire. And it’s crazy knowing Richonne is finally in the same vicinity after so many years.

gif cred: @perryabbott

The soldiers shoot at Michonne and Nat who duck out of the way. And then even despite seeing these masked men with guns, Michonne is basically like 'I can handle eight' and tells Nat, “I got them unless you get them first.”

She runs into the line of fire to take these soldiers out one by one.  And as she runs, Michonne is hit with a collection of memories that have led her to this point. We hear her tell Aiden, “You should go” and Aiden says, “We will. After you find Rick.” The warmth of that moment is quickly cut with Michonne having to take out Walker Aiden.

Then we hear Michonne say, “You’re pregnant.” over a clip of soldiers running. I like how one of those soldiers is Rick - cuz he’s the one who got Michonne pregnant, and that's something she’ll finally be able to tell him now. 

Nat knocks the soldiers to the ground as Michonne recalls taking out Bailey and then she gets vengeance for her friends as she slices CRM soldiers' necks and looks at them with crazy eyes as she says “Look at me.” I know that was a terrifying way to go out for these soldiers. 😅 Also, I love how Michonne is the character with the soundest head on her shoulders but also has a side of her that can get real crazy. 🤭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Then Nat's voiceover says, “You can believe a little longer and still go home to your kids” as my heart just melts into a puddle seeing clips of Judith and RJ. 🥹 Her kids are the cutest thing and I know as Michonne is slicing these soldiers she’s thinking about how they took time away from her kids which is an unforgivable sin. 

And then the final beat is Rick saying, “You can lose me” as we see a clip of Rick smiling at Michonne during their proposal dinner in Say Yes. I love how as she’s unknowingly fighting Rick in this forest she is also thinking about him as the final image in her mind because Rick is one of the biggest reasons why she fights.

They end the memory sequence with Rick saying "You can lose me" to really emphasize what’s about to happen next. Because next, she gets confirmation that while she can and did lose Rick she can also find him again no matter how long he's been lost. 🙌🏽

And find him she most certainly does as she knocks off his helmet and immediately realizes the man in black is the love of her life. 🤩

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Ok, I don’t even know how I’m going to put all this into words because I love this Richonne reunion with everything in me.

Let's start with the real snow that started falling during this scene. 😍 Y’all, even Mother Nature is a Richonner and she wanted to add some extra razzle dazzle to this epic reunion because she knew it was important.

The snow naturally being a part of this moment was beautiful. Then the fact that Rick and Michonne find each other just as they both were going to 'give up' for good is poetic. Again, the universe is a Richonner and said not on my watch, I’m getting you two together even if it takes several explosions to do so. 😌

Rick and Michonne are both silently breathing and staring at each other like we saw in ep 1 and you can tell this moment is such an understandable shock to both of them. Like before you can even see joy on their faces there’s just pure “is this really happening??” shock on their faces. And it makes sense because of all the scenarios they’ve probably pictured reuniting in, they likely never imagined it’d be like this.

Their faces and breathing really capture how wild this is for them to be so abruptly brought back into each other's lives after years of longing for each other.  

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Then Michonne immediately removes her mask and drops her sword and I view this as such a meaningful movement because it feels like for the first time in almost eight years she can let her guard down with the one man who makes her feel most secure. Like she completely disarms and is the vulnerable Michonne she used to be when Rick was around. 

And then the way Rick rises to his knees and his face just quickly softens as he realizes she’s really here. After all the dreaming, the yearning, the aching for her presence - here she stands. 🥹 (And my extra self likes how as he gets up there’s a brief moment where he’s on one knee and it just feels like his body is already in proposal mode lol.)

gif cred: @nat111love

Then I absolutely adore the way Rick gets up with his hand out reaching for her. It feels so tender like even despite all the chaos he’s just experienced, his first priority is that Michonne is okay. And the way he goes to her and she extends her hands out to him - those magnets are still as strong as ever. 🧲😊

gif cred: @nat111love

And I love that before they embrace they have this moment of Michonne holding Rick’s face in her hands as they both take each other in and are so emotional. The tears in their eyes as they feel each other's touch for the first time in years is just so extremely moving. 😭

gif cred: @saoirse-ronan

This was such a big highly anticipated moment and from the very first second of it, I just knew they were going to deliver and that the magic of Richonne on screen together is still as captivating and electrifying as it’s always been. 🔥

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne smiles, eyes filled with tears, as she holds Rick's face and looks into his eyes so glad that he’s actually alive. And then Rick cries and leans into her touch truly feeling tender touch for the first time in almost 8 years. Like whenever I’d see Michonne lovingly touch Rick throughout TOWL I’d always be reminded that this is his first time experiencing this type of warmth in so so long. 😭

gif cred: @nat111love

It’s interesting how Michonne has a teary smile whereas Rick has this blend of happiness and pain on his face. He’s been living like he’s dead for a very long time and, as I’ve said previously, when you decide to die but live you turn off the switch in you that can feel emotions both the painful and even the happy ones. But Michonne can always bring life back to Rick so you can just see this layered expression as Rick feels so much emotion come rushing back to him.

It’s almost like it’s foreign for him to let this emotion out now, but he makes these heartwarming quiet crying noises that show that whatever feelings are stirring inside him can’t help but seep out.

When Michonne lovingly holds his face in her hands, Rick dips his head tentatively wanting to hug her but also potentially hesitant if she’d want to hug him after seeing him in the same uniform as the people she was attacking. But then of course Michonne pulls him in so warmly as his soul just seems to be crying into her shoulder.

 gif cred: @riickgrimes

I think about how when he was on the bridge in his final ep he imagined Michonne holding his face in her hands and giving him the strength to go on and now here she is years later able to do that for real. It moves me to no end. 🥹

And then they have their long-awaited first embrace as Michonne lets out palpable emotion joyously declaring, “I found you!”  😭😭🎉

gif cred: @surii

The way Rick tucks himself into her shoulder as he closes his eyes and embraces her and the way Michonne almost gasps for air and says “oh god” in shock and awe that she really did find him. That all those years feeling him out there and believing he’s alive were correct. The belief she had paid off and now here he is - alive and finer than he’s ever been. It’s everything. 🙌🏽

And now I was very curious what Richonne's first words to each other would be after all these years. And to me, they chose the perfect thing for both of them with Michonne saying 'I found you" and then with what Rick first says.

Still in the hug, Rick quietly asks, “Judith - is she - is she alive?” Y'all, I love this so much. 🥹 Rick is a family man through and through and I gotta break down why I appreciate this as the first thing Rick says.

One; that’s his baby girl and as a parent you know it had to be so extremely painful to not know if Judith is okay let alone even alive. I really did get the sense from TOWL ep 1 that Judith is an extremely sensitive topic for Rick since not knowing her fate is just an unbearable pain. So I love that the second Rick gets to ask his wife for confirmation about if their daughter is alive it’s the first thing he wants to know.

gif cred: @saoirse-ronan

(Side note: this also makes me loathe Jadis even more because she was all looking forward to her annual meetups with Father Gabriel while Rick didn’t even get to know the status of his wife and daughter. 😤 The least that evil woman could have done was confirm to Rick that they were alive but no, he’s had to go years just trying to believe they were still out there.)

Two; It’s so true to the character of Rick Grimes to ask about his kids first because he did that so often in the main show. There’s so many times when his first question was about his kids and so this was very fitting. Times that come to mind is when Michonne killed the Governor and Rick’s first question is where’s Carl. When he finds Carl after the prison he wants to know where Judith is. In ASZ he loses sight of the kids and immediately goes running after them. And when he arrives back to ASZ in s8 he wants to know where the kids are. His kids are always a priority so I love that this is the first thing he wants to know.

Three; I love that after nearly dying himself on this day his concern is immediately on whether his baby girl is okay. He never stopped having a father's love for Judith and that was so evident. Four; it showed that his wife and daughter really are his choice because those are the two he most wants to check on. Five; the way he says it is so vulnerable. Because think about it, he basically has to brace for the answer to potentially be “no she’s not alive” but he has to know. It’s been too painful to go all these years not knowing. 

And then it is just beautiful the way Michonne smiles and reassures Rick that their daughter is okay. She completely understands why this would be his first question and she loves him for it.

She takes Rick’s face in her hands as she smiles and tells him, “She’s okay” and the way Rick repeats with just overwhelming relief, “She’s okay” makes me teary every time. Every single time. 🥺

gif cred: @surii

In this moment you just see the dad who loves his daughter so much and who loves Michonne so much, especially knowing Judith is okay because of Michonne. I love how he repeats the words and believes them and it’s just said so softly and movingly as something he’s been dying to know for years - dying to know his daughter is okay. 🥲

Also, It’s wild how this incredible Richonne journey went from Rick (lying) telling Michonne that if she didn’t have that formula for Judith he wouldn’t have taken her in to now Rick having to ask Michonne as Judith’s mother how their daughter is doing. 😭

The way Michonne smiles as she answers just feels like she's so happy to be able to assure Rick baby, I got her, all these years I’ve held her, protected her, raised her, and our daughter is okay. Seeing Michonne be such an elated mom and wife in this moment warms my heart. And I love that not only is Judith alive, she’s Michonne's mini-me.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Michonne repeats with a smile, “She’s okay, Rick, yeah.” Hearing her say his name is music to my ears. And I love that she says Judith is okay even tho she had to go a year away from their baby girl. She’s choosing to only entertain a scenario where Judith is okay. 

This was such a wonderful mom-and-dad moment. I love that their first exchange of dialogue is about their daughter. 🥲

gif cred: @hikarielizabethbloom

What’s so great about Richonne’s initial reunion is that it really felt like they just picked up where they left off in a lot of ways. And the way Richonne so visibly cherished being parents to Judith in s9 it is so beautiful to see them now talk about her again years later as her mom and dad.

Judith is so loved by her parents and I love to see it. And for Michonne it has to mean so much that she now gets to talk about her daughter with the person who loves her just as much as she does - Judith’s dad. 🥹

Then Rick sways back and forth and looks down appearing to feel a sense of shame for being in that CRM gear as he tries to utter out words. Michonne watches him and lovingly places her hand on his face before he gets the words out. Rick is her baby for real because she’s just so comforting as she senses everything he’s feeling. 😭

Rick tells Michonne, “I’m not - I’m not with them.” I love that he really does mean that in this moment. Despite piloting the helicopter that just crashed, telling Okafor he’s in, and giving orders to those soldiers, once Rick sees Michonne all of that is out the window and he’s not with them and knows nothing about that CRM lifestyle or whatever they got going on because that's not him. ���👌🏽

gif cred: @surii

You know Rick felt it important to clarify this because he can tell Michonne has beef with the CRM and he’s like I want you to know this is not the clique I claim so you don’t have to have beef with me. Part of why he can say 'I’m not with them' is because his heart has always been with her. In its own way this is him letting her know 'I know what it looks like but trust me I’m still yours, not theirs.'

He says it so vulnerably, almost nervous about what Michonne will think. But Michonne is Rick's soulmate and she knows where his heart really lies so she says assuredly with a tear down her face, “I know.” I love that response. 😭

It reminds me of the great scene in TWD 4.16 when Rick tells her he’s okay and she says “I know.” In that s4 scene, Rick asks “how” Michonne knows he's okay and Michonne shows an awareness of how interconnected they are when she says “cuz I’m okay too.”

And from there, their interconnectedness only grew stronger and more evident as the seasons progressed to the point that now in TOWL, Rick doesn’t even have to ask how Michonne knows he’s not with the CRM. He knows how she knows - because they’re still one like that. They still deeply and intrinsically know each other with no explanations needed. True soulmates. 👌🏽

gif cred: @surii

And receiving that immediate belief has to mean so much to him. She really is just like the Michonne in his dreams, believing in him no matter what. 

So now that he’s got two important things covered - confirming Judith is alive and confirming he doesn't have an allegiance to these CRM people Michonne has beef with - Rick is ready to give all his focus to Michonne and more intently greet his wife as he leans in for a kiss that makes my top 2 Richonne kisses of all time. 🤩

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Y’all, this kiss is everything, and they more than delivered with Richonne’s first real kiss in years. 🔥🙌🏽

This kiss captures everything Richonne feels about each other. It was eager and certain and passionate and sensual and organic and utterly fitting for an epic love story.

I remember my heart just soaring when first seeing this moment and my heart still melts over it now. Like the lighting was perfect, the framing, the way their eyes hardly flutter because they’re so locked in and present at this moment together. I mean they communicated the love they have for each other loud and clear with these excellent 7 kisses.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

The way they kiss each other…no one was ever going to come along and compete or compare in their life because Rick and Michonne be kissing each other's soul.

Their passion for each other is simply unrivaled. ❤️‍🔥 And it's perfect that this is the level of passion and intense love that they express to each other in the very first few minutes of their reunion. Like they don't have to build up to this type of kiss or hesitate, wondering if the other still loves them the same - they're just immediately on the same wavelength and showing loud and clear that they are still utterly in love with each other.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love the way Rick leans in almost like he’s still dreaming and the way Michonne smiles that her fine man who has only got finer is clearly still so in love with her like she’s in love with him. She went from wrapping herself in his shirts to being swallowed up by the man himself. Love that for her. 😋

I also adore how steady and locked in Rick is during their first kiss even despite having gone through so much craziness just seconds before. It’s yet another illustrator of the way Michonne calms and centers him.

And the way Michonne wraps her arms around him after the first kiss and they just literally kiss like their life depends on it and are as close as humanly possible. Their love is as alive as ever. 🥰

gif cred: @riickgrimes

It’s so clear that Richonne really gets fully immersed in their love story and it’s the BEST. They have moments, especially in kisses, where they just feel like they are so present in the fact that they found their one true love.

And Rick and Michonne were living their best fairytale life with this moment in the woods after waiting so long and reserving their heart for each other alone. This is the only person they ever want to kiss like this and now they get to. 🙌🏽

It's great how they didn't even have to pause for one second to wonder if the other had moved on. Just from looking into each other's eyes, they innately knew that they were still in love like they never left.

There honestly aren’t enough words to describe how much I love this kiss so I’ll just say - tens across the board. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽😍

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So then they return to embracing each other after that kiss of life as Michonne smiles and Rick continues to cry on her shoulder.

TOWL made it very clear that Richonne’s kisses are communication and you know ‘I love you and I’ve never stopped loving you’ was conveyed crystal clear from them both.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Hearing them both take the biggest breaths and cry as they hug because for the first time in eight years, they have that missing part of their heart back. 😭 They’re slowly but surely becoming more whole again just by being in each other's presence. I’ve said it before - in each other's arms is where they’re most meant to be. 

gif cred: @lousolversons

Michonne keeps her hands on Rick’s face as she pushes his hair back and just takes this all in, marveling that he’s alive and has clearly been through a lot but is still standing. It’s so preciously tender.

Michonne is so caring to all but you know there are three people alive who Michonne feels most called to be nurturing to and it’s her babies and her husband and you can just see that in this moment as she offers him the warmth and comfort he so deeply needs.

gif cred: @nat111love

And Rick again leans into her touch and just seems so overcome with emotion. I love that we can see him place a hand on her shoulder as he too lets it sink in that the love of his life really did find her way back to him. 

After likely only envisioning scenarios where he’d have to make it back to her, Rick is reminded that he and his wife are truly cut from the same cloth so of course Michonne was working on getting back to him as well. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Y’all, this moment was everything I could have wanted from Richonne’s reunion scene. Flawless. 💯👑 And I love that they got a chance to really let this part of the reunion breathe as Richonne allowed the two of them to be the only thing going on in the world for a moment. Like the way they were so focused on loving on each other in this moment is super special.

You’d never guess that Rick had just seen Okafor explode and got into a helicopter crash. You’d never guess Michonne was just slicing throats a second ago. In this moment all they were was each others. Time froze and Richonne’s love was able to fill the screen and be the center of everything, and I love to see it. 

gif cred: @superpowered-dirt

However, if there’s one thing the world loves to do it’s scream at Richonne and so after this gorgeous moment of joy we’re yanked right back into the drama and high stakes as the CRM is about to put a major damper on things. And you know we gotta break it down.

But just like Richonne let this initial reunion breathe and have its moment, that’s what I want to do with this post and just live in it for a moment as a gorgeous and euphoric reunion between the best soulmates on television and between two undeniable magnets. 🧲

This gorgeous and epic Richonne reunion was entirely worth the wait. 🥹👌🏽

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 21: Because You’re Mine, I Walk the Line

Summary: Arthur treats you to a stay in a hotel in the new town and promises to be on his best behavior.

Warnings: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This beautiful moodboard is graciously provided by @namesaretomainstream

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The gang has proceeded to move south to a secure area outside of a town called Blackwater. Winter will be upon the region soon and hopefully it will be a bit warmer by moving away from the mountains. The gang as a whole has not been in this area before, although Hosea worked a few jobs around here many years ago. Arthur and John went on ahead to scout while the rest of you pack up the camp. 

The brothers have been gone for over a week before they meet you all along the trail to lead you to where they deem safe and out of the way. At first, you cringed a bit at the thought of Arthur and John being alone together for any extended period of time without any sort of buffer between them. They’ve been arguing a lot lately. While John has been trying to make an attempt at making his relationship with Abigail and Jack work (albeit a sometimes feeble attempt), Arthur is still quick to be irritable and impatient with him. You have to bite your tongue to refrain from reminding Arthur that he himself had a hard time coping with fatherhood when it was first thrust upon him. That is certainly a fight that you just do not want to have with him.

But on a positive note, the whole camp is excited with the new opportunity. A new area means new towns, new people, new goods available. And new jobs. But with that also comes more attention. The pressure of the local law is constantly present upon the gang and seemingly increasing of late. But Dutch seems to think he can continue to stay one step ahead. It’s a good thing for everyone that the Devil himself doesn’t have the confidence that Dutch Van Der Linde has. Otherwise the entire world and heaven above would be in trouble.

After getting everything settled with the new camp, Arthur decides that it’s time to pamper you a little. While out scouting the nearest little town he gets the idea to treat you to a stay at the local hotel for a hot bath, a real bed, and some private time alone for just the two of you. The town of Trimble is new and quaint. When Arthur tells you that he’s already told Dutch that the two of you will be out of camp for the next few days, your squeal of excitement is reward enough. 

You are so looking forward to being alone in a hotel with Arthur for the first time. To be away from the prying eyes of camp and to not be interrupted every five minutes for one thing or another. 

It's cloudy and overcast the morning that you are to leave. Although the temperature is brisk, you are warm with excitement. You are sure to clean yourself up and fix your hair to look pretty. You want everything to be perfect. You've always been a bit self-conscious of your appearance, but you’ve always managed to put yourself together well. Corsets help, of course. The belief has always been that if you were done up with curled hair and a bit of rouge on your cheeks, it would distract from the way your curves are hidden within a pretty dress. As you stand in your tent and finish pulling at the lavender-colored cotton of your sleeves, you hear a slow whistle behind you. 

“Look at you! Pretty like a meadow flower. Ain’t I a lucky man.” Looking over your shoulder, Arthur stands at the opening of your shared tent, one arm slung up to hang from the top of the tent support pole, the other hand tucked lazily into his belt. A grin of approval sits upon his handsome face as his eyes float up and down over your frame.

“Why, thank you,” you giggle, blushing slightly. “Don’t forget to give yourself time to clean up, too, before we go.”

“What?” His face quickly turns to a pout like a confused child. 

“Hey, I spent a lot of time getting myself put together for you,” you playfully scold him. Arthur’s eyes follow your nimble fingers as they adjust the delicate earring you are popping into your ear. Thoughts of his teeth nibbling on that same earlobe last night skitter distractedly through his mind. 

“That’s your own fault,” he teases, refocusing on the conversation at hand. “I think you look perfect the way you were.”

Oh, how your heart does a somersault at his genuine flattery. No one has ever spoken to you the way that Arthur does. “I’m sure you do. But listen, I want to look nice for you, okay? And, besides, I can’t be the only good-looking one walking around.”

“Sweetheart, that’s going to be the case regardless of what I manage to put together with this.” He waves at himself dismissively. You take notice of the dried mud stains on his faded brown shirt and vest and make a mental note that his threadbare jacket needs mending yet again. 

“Shut it, that’s my man you’re talking about.” You shoot Arthur an impish glare as you walk over to him, placing your hand along his ribs. “Now wash yourself up or I’ll be forced to do it for you.” You grab his chin and pull him down for a quick peck on the lips.

Arthur playfully raises an eyebrow at you. “You flirtin’ with me already?” 

Your laugh carries through the air as you walk past him out of the tent and head over to where Mary-Beth and Tilly sit. They promised to help you set your hair before you leave. 

He grumbles about it, but Arthur concedes to the task, knowing how excited you are for your little holiday. He washes his face in the basin you set out for him in the tent, noting how the dirty water runs over his fingers and cringes at how you were right as usual. He even goes so far as to shave for you. Not too clean, but keeping the beard stubble to the length that you prefer. He wipes his chin with his shaving towel, observing you as you flit about the camp, preparing for your departure. You are absolutely giddy, giggling and whispering with the other girls as they offer to help you primp and prepare for your romantic stay. He smiles to himself, glad that he made that decision to get you out for a bit. 

Arthur feels as if he’s finally met his match with you, the one person who is brave enough to love him as he is, and strong enough to handle all of him, even the broken parts. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want the world, you just want to feel safe and secure in his world. You have made him that one promise that he’s ever needed to hear in his life and that is to never give up on him. And he wants to do whatever he can to make that an easier choice for you. 

As you pack your saddle bags and get the horses ready for the ride, Hosea strides over to give the two of you a quick reminder to behave and be mindful. The gang is new to the area and still getting its bearings. You all need to lay low until you know what you’re dealing with. 

“Now remember, no fighting. No stealing. No riots. I don’t need to be making a house-call to the local jailhouse to bail you out so soon.” As he speaks, you watch the smoke rise from Hosea’s cigarette and circle his head like a crown, his eyes squinting slightly at the burn.

“We’ll be fine.” Arthur rolls his eyes dismissively at the older man as he finishes tying up Buck’s saddle.

“I’m talkin’ about you specifically,” Hosea stresses, poking his finger into Arthur’s chest. “I’m not worried about Y/N acting like a fool.”

“Calm down. I’ll have her along with me.” Arthur waves his hand towards you. “She’ll keep me straight and make me tow the line.”

“I hope so. But you’re also a bull in a china shop when it comes to her.” Hosea tips his head in your direction. “Just keep your head about you, would you?”

“I got this, ‘sea.” You flash a smile and give the man a kiss on the cheek right below his graying temple. “I’ll make sure Arthur stays in line.” 

Hosea’s scowl at Arthur turns to a loving grin at you. “I’m sure you will, my dear. Because you’re the only one with any damn sense around here.” He affectionately pats your hand.

“Hey!” whines Arthur, defensively. Hosea waves him off, giving one last “be careful”, and walks back towards his chair. Arthur turns back to you and swats your arm. “Kiss-ass.” 

You can only roll your eyes with a short laugh as you finish packing Blue’s saddlebags.

————————————

The ride to Trimble doesn’t take too long, only about thirty minutes on horseback. The sun is still fighting to break the clouds and the wind kicks up, churning the last remnants of fall leaves on the ground at your horses’ feet. It’s late morning by the time you arrive and the townspeople are already bustling about. Arthur was right, the town is quaint and charming. 

As you lead your horses down the street, you look up excitedly at the approaching hotel sign. The two of you get your horses hitched to the post outside just as an idea comes to you and you search the street to see what is around. 

You point at the general store which is a couple of doors down. “Before we head to the room, I want to make a quick stop.” 

“For what?” asks Arthur as he follows you next door, his gaze lingering on the hotel instead. He is anxious to get to your room and begin your stay together. 

“I want to get a few things. Some food, things like that.” 

“They have food at the hotel, you know,” he huffs. You can hear Arthur’s boots scrape against the wood of the boardwalk behind you as he slightly drags his feet, reluctant to be side-tracked with any errands.

Pausing just outside the door of the store, you turn with a smirk. You press yourself up against him, purposely pushing your cleavage against his hard chest. “I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of even being dressed, let alone leaving that room for the next two days, mister.”

Arthur’s eyes roll shut, head tilting back for a moment with a groan at the very thought of being blissfully naked for two full days. When he looks down into your beautiful face again, his sapphire eyes sparkle with mischief. 

“Woman, I’m gonna make you sing like the angel you are,” he growls out. 

“Such things you say, Mr. Morgan,” you purr back with the most unladylike smile. 

“I’m trying my best to be a gentleman right now, Y/N. But if you keep lookin’ at me like that with the devil in your eye…we’re fucking on the closest thing I can find to bend you over on.”

Your legs actually quiver at the thought. You know you shouldn’t be excited by such vulgarity. But then again, you can’t help but be tempted to tease this theory of his as he leans over you so close that you can feel the heat beginning to radiate off of him, even in the chilly air. 

“I have to warn you, Arthur, I may scratch and I may bite.” Your fingertip runs down his cheek and along his jawline. 

“You’ll crawl and beg, too, when I’m done with you,” he promises.

A sultry giggle erupts from your lips as you reach up to place a short, yet heated kiss upon his plump lips. Arthur then dips in closer to place a quick love bite along your neck, drawing a quick little yelp from you. 

Your focus is broken when you hear an annoyed tsk from somewhere next to you and you catch the disapproving glances from an older couple who are passing along on the street. You quickly clear your throat, tapping Arthur’s shoulder to indicate that he needs to stop this little scene. You blush, hiding your face into your hands, and lean into his chest with an embarrassed little groan. 

“C’mon” chuckles Arthur as he places a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s get this little errand of yours done so we can get started. Looks like we’re on borrowed time.”

It is a quick shopping trip inside the store for you. The little shop is kept neat and well-stocked, with natural light pouring in through the windows along the front. Dried herbs and woven baskets hang from the ceiling and barrels of various items line the walls. The store has everything from grains to produce, from ropes and hammers to books and socks. 

Arthur leans against the sales counter as you walk about the store to grab a few things, such as some fruit, dried meats, a loaf of bread, a small brick of cheese and a bottle of cheap wine. In and out within a few minutes and then you and Arthur head back towards the hotel.

Walking into the establishment, it is warm and cheerful. It is a fairly large open area with the front desk centered along the back wall. To the left is what seems to be a small restaurant-cafe with a mixture of aromas drifting through the enclosed space, and to the right is a sitting room where some of the guests are playing checkers while sipping on coffee. The woodwork is white-washed and simple paintings adorn the walls.

Behind the desk is a short, plump woman, looking to be about in her 50’s. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, with streaks of gray ribboning through it. She sets down the book she is reading and peers over her spectacles when she hears the bell above the door ring as you and Arthur come through the threshold. 

“Afternoon, folks,” she greets you with a wide, toothy smile. “What can I do for you?”

Arthur strides up to the desk, placing his hands upon the smoothly painted wood. “The lady and I need a room. We’ve been on the road for a bit, so we’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind,” he stresses. “Peace and quiet, that sort of thing.” He fills out the ledger she pushes towards him on the counter. 

“Of course, Mr…Callahan.” She nods as she reads the name scrawled in his handwriting. “Well, I have the room at the far end of the hall that’s empty. No one else on that side.” She points up the stairs and to the right. “It’s the smallest room I got, but it’s going to be the quietest.”

“We don’t need big. We need private,” Arthur says, rather short and curt in his demeanor and the woman gives him a curious look.

“Newly weds”, you quickly interject as if answering the woman’s unasked question with a radiant smile on your lips as your nose wrinkles with excitement. You lace your arms around Arthur’s as you lay your head against his shoulder, playing up the act. Arthur looks over at you with a smirk. 

“Oh!” She smiles back. “How sweet.” But her face drops a bit when she looks at your hand. She looks puzzled as you follow her gaze.

“I don’t wear my ring when we travel.” You flutter your fingers for emphasis. “A lot of questionable folks in this area. You understand.”

She smiles again and nods. “Of course. I don’t blame you, Miss. Enjoy your stay.” She slides the room key to Arthur, pointing in the general direction you need to head. You both thank her for her kindness and quickly make for the staircase to head upstairs.

As you walk down the hallway, Arthur leans down to your ear. “‘Questionable folks’? If only she knew.” 

“Shh! Don’t worry about that now,” your voice floats with a wispy tone. “We’re not outlaws for the next two days. We’re just-“

“Newly weds.” He smiles down at you. 

“That’s right. Newly weds.” You grin ear to ear back at him. “And I think we have some ‘consummating’ to do.” 

You come to the end of the hall, arriving at Number 6. Twisting the key into the slightly stubborn iron lock, Arthur pushes the door open for you. You step into the room and survey your temporary lodging. Your mouth gapes slightly, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. It's adorable. 

The room is in fact small, but offers enough space to move about comfortably. It’s painted a simple white, bright and airy, to match the lobby with little pitchers of dried flowers on the one small table in the room and on the one dresser that is available. White eyelet curtains swag across the two small windows that flank the bed that sits in the middle of the wall. A beautiful mauve comforter adorns the mattress with a metal frame securing it. You smile wickedly as you have plans for that headboard. 

Arthur steps in behind you as he closes the door and heads over to the small fireplace to get a fire going. You set your few things on the small table and make your way to the bed. Your hand runs along the soft bedding, gliding along the surface as if trailing your fingertips through water. It’s been awhile since you've experienced such finery, such as it is. Slowly lowering yourself down onto the bed, you lay backwards, letting the muscles of your back unknot themselves as you take a deep calming breath. The feeling of the fluffy quilt envelops you as if you are floating on a cloud as you sink back, the scent of clean linen wafting in the air. 

“Oh, I almost forgot what a real bed feels like.” A deep and lazy sigh exhales from your chest, making the bodice of your dress float. When you open your eyes, you see Arthur watching you intently. “Are you going to join me?”

Arthur’s only answer is a grin as he proceeds to take off his gun belt, laying it across the table next to your bags with a slight thud and strides over to you, his vivid eyes shining. As he approaches the bed, you roll to sit up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle and sweetly kiss him. His large, warm hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he smiles into your mouth in return. Suddenly, you stop, pulling back to look at him. 

“Do you hear that?” you whisper. 

Startled, Arthur’s eyes narrow as he tries to listen. His body stiffens slightly as a defensive reflex.

“Silence”, you breathe even lower. “There’s no one. No Dutch. No Susan. No Sean. And -” you pause for emphasis- “no Micah. Just you and me.” Your eyes gleam ecstatically as you collect his face into your gentle hands.

A huge smile slowly blooms across Arthur’s face as reality has fully hit him now. ‘Just you and me.’ It’s a beautiful little sentiment, isn’t it?

“Well, let’s not waste a single minute of it, then,” he says. He gently forces you back down to the bed as he lays himself over top of you. You giggle as your arms wrap around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him to you. After a few tender moments of soft kisses, Arthur rolls to lay along your side and his hand splays across your stomach, sliding down to knead the tender skin there. You rotate your hips to press against him, your leg coming up to slot with his. When your hand comes to rest over his heart, Arthur places his own over top of it, holding it there. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost in your own little universe. Arthur’s hands begin to move faster, just as his lips do. The kisses become more passionate, the moaning and heavy breathing escalates. Grasping and pinching takes hold of your extremities. 

The world outside the walls of this tiny rented room ceases to exist and fades away. The only things that matter are you and Arthur. You do not hear the horses and chatter from the street below. You do not smell the dinner being prepared in the kitchen of the hotel. You can only feel the soft bed beneath you and the hot skin of the person you are entwined with. And you only see the loving face that hovers in front of you. 

Arthur suddenly stands up to unbutton his shirt and pull his trousers off. While he is occupied, you quickly whip off your blouse and your underclothes along with it. You grab a hold of the strings of your skirt when he abruptly stops you. 

“Hold on,” Arthur murmurs, holding his hand out over your fingers. He gets that lustful look in his eyes that you know all too well. “Do it real slow-like. I don’t want to miss a thing.” 

Your eyelashes flutter as a crimson-blush floats across the apple of your cheeks. But you oblige, of course, coyly pulling at the strings, your fingers daintily raised in emphasis. 

Once the skirt is gone, Arthur tenderly reaches down and lifts your legs one at a time to take off your boots, leaving each foot resting on his abdomen. You curl your toes and flirtatiously extend your legs up to hook them under the collar of his union suit. Deftly using your feet, you push the sides of the fabric down over his muscled arms to expose his chest and effectively spread your legs wide for him in the process. 

He pauses at the sight, eyes dark and carnal. He swallows thickly before he even attempts to speak. “Just be warned, I’m about to break you in half, woman.” His fingers trail over your calves in anticipation. 

You smile mischievously and run your foot along the front of his thigh. “Oh, I surely hope so, mister. I was counting on it.”

The way Arthur makes you feel about yourself is unparalleled. He makes you feel beautiful and loved. Never in your life have you ever felt so wanted and desired. He is a man who has little in this tumultuous world so he values the things that he does have. And the idea that Arthur treasures you above all things sets your heart to flutter. He is strong and unyielding. And yet, you, simply you, have captured his heart to hold him hostage. While you calm his restless soul, he in turn makes you feel vibrant and alive. 

Before you can say or do anything more, Arthur grabs your legs, yanking you closer to him as a squeal escapes from your lips until your rear sits at the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, tossing your legs over his broad shoulders as your thighs slowly fall open for him.

Arthur cradles your leg to him as he places languid kisses along your plush limbs. Starting from your knee, his hot tongue darts in and out as his lips travel along the soft skin to your plump thighs, creeping his way towards your heat. He moves agonizingly slow, but the sheer feeling of it makes time stand still. 

You sit up on your elbows and watch him work, delighted in how much he revels in the experience. Arthur fully plans on indulging himself and taking complete advantage of the situation. No interruptions, no nosy eyes and ears. The comfort and warmth of a proper shelter lending to the tender atmosphere. Arthur will covet every little thing and every single moment that he has with you for the next two days. 

His strong hands float across the skin of your thighs to meet where his mouth is, coming together at the apex between your legs. Your breath hitches as his thick fingertips gently graze over the tender folds of skin. Your mouth gapes slightly at the incredible sensation. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he assesses the treasure before him. A quick look up to catch your loving gaze before he dips down, his tongue dragging along the slit of your heat. Your eyes instantly flutter with a staggered breath ghosting from your lips. He begins to wag his tongue back and forth, basking in your taste. Before long, he slides his finger up along the skin, sliding in and out, covered in your wetness. 

The two techniques in conjunction cause you to moan loudly. Your head falls back between your shoulder blades causing your breasts to angle up higher for his viewing pleasure. But you bite your lip to try to stifle yourself out of habit, afraid someone will hear. 

“Go ahead and make all the pretty little noises you want, Darlin’. Ain’t no one gonna hear ya,” Arthur smirks. He runs his palm over your mound, gently massaging the flesh there. 

“We’re not alone in this building, you know,” you pant, trying to catch your breath already. “Someone will eventually hear.”

“No one I care about.” He gives you that wicked wink.

You shoot him a kittenish look as he sets about his work again as if determined to prove his point. His mouth works you over with more force this time, completely encompassing your heat, as a second thick finger is added. Your arms give out as you drop to the mattress. You mewl and moan as you completely give in, and the sounds coming from your panting mouth only encourage Arthur to go faster and deeper. He tightly wraps his arm around your leg, pulling your hips open even more to give him access to your core. His tongue flicks over that sensitive bud, sucking and releasing while his fingers push and retract, curling as they move along the velvety walls inside you. 

The muscles in your abdomen tighten as your orgasm explodes within you. You practically scream as your hands fist the blanket under you until your knuckles turn white, your whole body spasming under Arthur’s arms as he holds you in place. But instead of leaving you spent, it makes you crave even more. 

“Arthur?” Your voice is breathless and shaky. 

“Hmm?” He asks smugly, going back to leaving slow kisses along your thighs again. The feeling of his beard prickling your sensitive skin makes you shudder. 

“I’m positive that this is only the beginning of what you have in mind. So whatever you’re going to do next, you had better get started. Because I can’t wait much longer to feel you inside me properly.”

His eyes meet your half-lidded ones, which are lust-drunk and captivating. “You got me wrapped around your pretty little fingers, you know that?”

“You got it all wrong, my love. It’s gonna be me wrapped around you. Now get over here.” You lift your leg to use it to pull him up to you.  

The little term of endearment melts his heart and Arthur quickly stands to pull off the rest of his clothing in a hurry before he climbs over you, the muscles of his back rippling as he hurriedly moves to meet your lips. Your hands greedily run into his hair and then fan-out over his broad shoulders. Your legs wrap around his lower half as he sinks down over you. You can feel his hard cock rub against you and you groan into his mouth. He’s hard as a rock, his tip hot to the touch. God, you want him so badly right now. You impatiently reach between you to wrap your soft hand around his member, pumping and stroking him and he hisses in your ear in response, biting on your neck. 

Arthur sits up on the bed, resting back on his heels so that he can get a full view of you. Your body writhes lying beneath him, your arms extended to run your hands along his thick thighs and across his lower abdomen. The tips of your fingers trail through the hair that makes its way towards the “v” of his groin. 

Arthur teases your opening with his cock, watching as your eyes roll back. Once he’s graced the entrance, he grabs your knees and pushes his hips forward, sliding himself into your warm cunt. You clench around him as if to trap him inside of you, never to let him leave. He is entranced by the way your back arches backwards, practically bent in half, as he pushes inch by heavenly inch, in order to achieve the greatest reach. 

“C’mon, baby, dance for me,” he utters.

Arthur studies the beauty of your eyes as he begins to thrust into you. He knows every line of your face from watching you from afar and viewing you up close. Leaning over you, he caresses your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his calloused hand even more. He cherishes you as he holds your face in his palm. You are totally, and absolutely, his. Sighing deeply with such affection, he gathers your hair in his fist, sliding his fingers back into your locks to pull your head back. 

At one point, you try to push him over to take control, but he isn’t having it. Arthur is too lost in his own lust to give up control now. When he feels you push against his chest, he collects your wrists into his much larger hand to pin them over your head into the mattress. He grabs your leg and hooks his powerful arm under it to keep you exactly where he wants you as his thrusts pick up speed and force. 

Up until now, you and Arthur have been heated, but nothing like this. He looks down at you, taken in at how you need him just as much as he needs you. He is speechless and suddenly greedy for more. He suddenly pulls himself out of you, and you gasp in disappointment at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes shoot wide open, eyebrows furrowed and questioning his motives. But he acts quickly. Arthur’s hands wrap around your sides as he abruptly flips you over on the mattress and pulls you up on all fours by your hips. 

He reaches around and rakes his fingers over your heat, gathering some of your wetness to lubricate himself. Taking himself in hand, Arthur places his throbbing tip against your heat again, but this time from behind, rubbing back and forth to nestle between the sensitive folds. The mewl that drops from your lips is both animalistic and divine as your eyes screw shut as you take him again. He pushes himself into you, a loud grunt of his own filling the air. 

You’ve never done it like this before. This was something you’ve heard whispered but never experienced yourself.

With this angle, Arthur’s cock drags along the roof of your cunt, dragging across nerves that are being teased in a whole new way. The upward diagonal direction of his grinding feels different, yet exponentially amazing. He’s trying to be mindful to see if you are okay with this new “experiment”, not wanting to cross a line, but he quickly loses himself. His head is spinning and he shoves himself into you, hips snapping sharply.

Stars begin to cloud your vision as your senses become overwhelmed. You feel him everywhere, inside you and all around you. You feel as if you could burst into flames right now. You’re not sure where your head is at, probably lost in oblivion, but you turn your chin to your shoulder. And watching Arthur’s face contorted in pleasure sets you off on a whole new level of desire. In a surprising act of boldness, with a breathy little whimper, you simply mutter the word “harder”.

Silly girl that you are.

Recognition flashes in Arthur’s eyes as his fingertips dig into your hips. There’s a quick smack to your ass-cheek as if sending his horse into a gallop and he’s off. 

Arthur begins to pound into you relentlessly now, knowing that you are enjoying this as much as he is, sending your skin shuttering with each blow. He begins to grunt loudly as his hips snap at an increasingly faster pace. You can feel the bed itself shifting under you from his force. 

With the unabated jarring of his pelvis, you lose your balance and your arms give out. Your forehead drops, digging into your forearms, but it also raises your hips even more, adding to the heavenly sensation. 

Arthur eventually wraps his arm under your rib cage and pulls you up to hold you against his broad chest. The burly arm wraps around your shoulders while the other snakes down your front to fondle the delicate skin of your heat again. His mouth latches onto your neck, his forehead digging into your temple. In an attempt to grasp onto something to anchor yourself to this planet, your own arm reaches behind you to wrap around behind Arthur’s head, your fingers clenching the thick waves of sandy-blonde hair as you cry out his name. It always sends him into a heated frenzy to hear you say his name laced with such wanton desire. Sometimes, you’ll even simply whisper his name into his ear when you are just sitting by the fire, innocently nestled in his lap. 

The air is filled with the scent of sweat, leather, and cigarette smoke, coupled with the rose-water you washed your hair with. Your moaning and Arthur's lustful grunts echo loudly within the small space, the sound bouncing off of the walls like a sinful orchestra.

Arthur’s powerful arms wrap around you like a large jungle snake, restrictive and making it hard to catch your breath. He holds you as if afraid to let go, afraid that you could be taken from him. Or worse yet, leave of your own accord. This whole thing is still so new to him. As wonderful as you are, there is still that sliver, that crack in his black, broken heart, that this is all too good to be true. He is still waiting for that hammer to fall and crush his fragile dream. And yet still, Arthur keeps barreling forward with his cock buried inside of you, hips bucking, until your head snaps back with your second orgasm.

Once you’re spent, your body goes limp in Arthur’s arms. His own pace sputters as he reaches his own climax shortly after you and he pulls himself out to finish on the back of your legs. 

Panting heavily, you are lightheaded and collapse onto the bed under you, thankful for the cushioning that catches you.

Arthur slowly leans over you as his chest tries to recapture air into his lungs. His hands rest on either side of your body, allowing his forehead to rest between your shoulder blades. Eventually you can feel his lips leaving soft little kisses along your back.

“Good Lord, Arthur,” you chuckle, you back arching like a cat in response to his lips scattering across your skin.

“I did warn you.”

“That you did.” A satisfied hum leaves your trembling lips as you flip back over and catch him between your legs, trapping him between your thighs. His face and chest glisten with a thin sheen of sweat, even in the chilled room. “Just remember, Arthur, payback is a bitch.” And the look of absolute adoration fills his eyes at your statement. 

You find the energy to sit up, propping yourself up on one elbow with the other arm slung around his shoulders. Foreheads affectionately touch together while you both catch your breath. You pepper Arthur’s face with kisses, causing the most adorable chuckle to spring from his mouth.

“This was such a good idea,” you sigh. 

“Probably one of my better ones, for sure,” he agrees.

“You realize this is where we live now, right?”

“If only that were true.” Arthur gives you a sweet but sad smile before nudging your nose with his. You’ve noticed that it’s a gesture of affection that he often does with you, one that you know is meant to say ‘I love you’ without having to say it out loud. 

“Well, then let’s make the most of the time we have,” you whisper. You gently pull him over you like a blanket, wrapping your arms and legs around him, your lips pressed to his. He sinks into you again with pleasure. 

You spend the rest of the evening lying naked upon the bed, staring into each other’s eyes. You talk about different things, snickering and laughing, and just simply enjoy each other’s presence. You make love two more times before falling blissfully asleep in each other’s arms at some point into the very-early morning while the stars still shine in the sky, completely exhausted. 

The next morning, as the sun needles its way into your windows, you roll over and bury your face into your billowy pillow. It was a late night and the idea of sleeping-in with no one hollering for you to begin work is so satisfying. You stretch your legs, wiggling a bit into the sheets and blankets. The fabric is soft wrapped around your bare body. 

When Arthur’s arm enfolds you from behind, pulling you back and tucking you against him, you begin to smile softly. His much larger frame presses against the entire length of yours, making you feel safe and comforted. If heaven on Earth exists, it is right here in this tiny room, nestled quietly within this little hotel.

And it is in this blissful moment that the overwhelming realization washes over you. That there is so much more to life than simply surviving it. There is Arthur. There’s the two of you, planning and building a life together. 

—---------------------------------------

After a day and a half of being holed-up in the hotel room, you and Arthur decide to head out to the saloon for a change of scenery. The fresh air and sunlight will do you both some good. 

The last several hours have been spent alternating passionate love-making and catching up on much-needed rest, with Arthur taking some time to work in his journal while you relaxed and read a new novel that Mary-Beth loaned you. 

You take your time in getting dressed, with no urgency to be anywhere. You have to keep swatting Arthur’s hand away when he keeps trying to undo the strings of your clothing the minute you have them tied. But eventually, you manage to get yourselves together and head downstairs. 

The same woman who checked you in yesterday is sweeping the floor of the lobby and upon hearing footsteps from above, she looks up. But when she recognizes who is coming down, she shyly avoids eye contact, her face red as she sees the two of you descend the stairs. She goes back to her task, dragging the broom across the floorboards at a faster pace to avoid any awkward conversations. At first you don’t understand the behavior, but it quickly dawns on you that she must have heard your amorous activities last night. 

“Whoops,” you whisper to yourself under your breath, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you walk through the lobby. 

“Huh?” Arthur looks at you confused. 

“Nevermind, just keep walking,” you chuckle, grabbing his arm and pushing him ahead of you and out the front door. 

The saloon isn’t too far down, just about a five minute walk. With your arm linked with Arthur’s, you walk into the bar and look around excitedly. Arthur, however, is immediately on high-alert. He notices several heads turn upon your entrance, not to watch him for once, but to curiously eye-up the woman beside him. You are radiant. Your eyes are bright and cheeks flushed with color. You have a natural glow about you due to the past thirty-six hours in your hotel room.

Naturally you don’t notice the lingering eyes of the drunken patrons, but Arthur certainly does. He stiffens a bit in reaction to the gawking stares. But as soon as you wrap your arms around his bicep and lean in to whisper something in his ear, everyone knows who’s arm you’ll be on tonight.  

Arthur knows it’s selfish, but for once, he is the envy of everyone. And his chest proudly puffs out a bit as he escorts you with a swagger in his step through the room to a table. 

A waitress brings you and Arthur drinks and you sit comfortably in the corner, nuzzling up on each other, minding your own business. But it doesn’t take long for your privacy to be intruded upon. 

“Hey, Arthur! Y/N!” You hear John’s raspy voice cut through the noise of the saloon. Looking up, you see him and Abigail making their way to your table. “See? Told you they’d be here,” he says to Abigail. 

You and Arthur are a bit speechless at first, not expecting to see anyone you know tonight. “What are you two doin’ here?” Arthur asks.

“Needed to get Abigail out of camp before she plants a knife in someone,” snickers John as he pulls a chair out for the woman to sit before pulling out a second one for himself and tossing his lean leg over it to settle in next to her. 

“Damn idiots, being stupid!” she hisses as she plunks down onto the hard wooden chair. You nod in acknowledgement with a sigh, as you completely understand Abigail’s frustration. And although you are disappointed that your time with Arthur is being interrupted, you are happy to see that John and Abigail are trying to spend a little time together, too and you all proceed to have a drink together. 

And soon enough, the doors swing open and in walks Sean, Karen, Lenny, and Charles as well.

Arthur’s head turns when he sees them and you are quick to catch his groan and eye-roll. “Damn it,” he mutters under his breath. 

With a sigh of resignation, you lean your shoulder into his. “I suppose you’re right, you could never leave the gang and go off on your own. Everywhere you go, they follow.” You nudge your chin in their direction with a slight laugh. 

“Oh no, don’t blame me on this. They follow you around just as much as me now,” he teases. “And besides, it’s ‘we’ - we couldn’t go off on our own. It’s you and me, remember?”

“That’s right.” You smile brightly and lift your beer bottle to clink to his in a toast.  

“Ah, well would ya look who it is!” exclaims Sean as he wraps his arm around Karen’s shoulders and saunters over to your corner to join the four of you. And before you know it, Lenny and Charles grab a nearby table, dragging it closer to yours and the lot of you settle in for a good time. 

The night carries on, with singing, dancing and many drinks to be passed amongst your friends. Lively music fills the air as the amber glow of the oil lamps begins to push back against the encroaching shadows of the setting sun. And all the while, you sit in the corner curled up to Arthur all night. 

Abigail observes the two of you together throughout the evening and smiles to herself. She notices that it is the subtle things about the two of you that are so endearing. Arthur comes up behind you, his arm gliding around your waist as you lean back into him. Occasionally his head lowers closer to your cheek and you turn upward, your hand coming up to cup his face as you smile at him. Arthur doesn’t possessively plant kisses all over you in public, but just the slightest turn of his lips towards your temple as you speak. Or it’s his hand on the small of your back as you walk about. Even when he simply pulls your chair out and holds your arm to help you to sit, it is the simplest of loving actions that stand out. 

Abigail’s smile widens as her chin sits in her hand. She is so happy for you both, but especially Arthur. He’s been through so much and has been so lonely for so long. She marvels at how different Arthur is now, at how time has changed him. John tries to show his affection in his own way, but nothing as soft and romantic as Arthur. Ironic how Arthur is the larger, more brutish of the two men, yet he is actually the softer of them. 

Noticing that more drinks are needed, you head over to the bar to secure another round for your group. You lean on the wooden surface, patiently waiting for the barkeep’s attention when you sense a presence out of the corner of your eye. A man sidles up next to you, standing a little too close for comfort. You can’t help but to notice how his beady eyes rake over you, the smell of whiskey emanating off of him like a cloud. 

“Evenin’!” Casting your gaze briefly to your right towards the scraggly voice, you notice the man is greasy and lean. His dark hair is combed back under his hat and he carries himself with a cocky air about him. 

You give him a polite but quick, “Good evening.”

“Couldn't help but notice a pretty thing like you in a place like this. You must be new. How much you cost?”

Your lips pull inward, trying not to be offensive in your answer as you feel your face start to burn hot. “I’m not for sale. And even if I was, you couldn’t afford my rate.”

The man’s face drops a bit of its smugness, shifting his weight from hip to hip. “Oh, you’re one of those stuck-up girls, are you?”

“No. Just spoken for, is all.”

“Real shame. I could show you a good time.” The man licks his lips in a disgusting gesture, making your skin crawl. Even Micah is better behaved than this man.

A slow and measured sigh escapes your lips. “I’m already having a good time. With someone else.” Although your words are nice enough, the tone is laced with annoyance. 

Meanwhile, Arthur’s eyes never leave you as he is watching very closely how this scene is playing out at the bar. He tunes-out the nonsensical blabbering of Sean sitting next to him as his hand tightens down around the bottle he is holding. 

But you’ve decided you've had enough of the cretin’s advances and try to push past the idiot to return to your friends, and more importantly, to Arthur. But the man lays his hand on your shoulder, preventing you from leaving. “Now wait a minute, I ain’t done with you.” 

“Oh, but I am done with you.” Your eyebrows raise to accentuate your point. “Now if you will excuse me.”

But he quickly grabs your arm, squeezing harshly. “I said-” 

In this split second, time stands still and Arthur’s perception of things slows to a crawl as his vision sees red when your face twists up in pain from the harsh grab of this fool. Arthur springs up from his chair, tossing it backward with the force and a speed that belies his size, and he bolts over to the two of you.

Arthur clamps his massive hand around the man’s wrist with a crushing force, halting him in his tracks and peeling the drunk’s dirty fingers from your arm as he protectively moves you behind him.

“That’s enough. The lady said she ain’t for you.” Arthur steps menacingly toward the man, fists balled and his arm pulls back ready to launch, but he stops short when you place your hand on his forearm as a reminder that you are not supposed to be causing a ruckus while in town. The feeling of your fingers on his skin instantly grounds him, distracting Arthur from the sinister thoughts rolling around in his head. 

Reluctantly, Arthur tries his best to calm down before he does something that he’ll regret. “Now you best leave it at that and walk away,” Arthur says, taking a breath.

“She belongs to you?!” the man sneers out as if in surprise.

“She don’t belong to no one, least of all you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, this doesn’t concern you, then. This is between me and the lady.” He waves his hand at you. “So you be the one leave it.”

Arthur takes a deep breath in, Hosea’s warning echoing in his head. “Right now, I need to see the back of your head getting smaller and smaller. Keep in mind that I can make that happen several ways.” 

“Arthur, don’t,” you warn. “Don’t waste your time on this stupid fool.” You tug gently on his arm, hoping he will come back to the table with you without incident.

The drunk looks indignantly at you. “Who you callin’ a stupid fool, missy?” He keeps his eyes on you as he addresses Arthur. “You better get your little whore there under control,” lifting his chin in your direction. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

That is what lights Arthur’s fuse. “What the hell did you just say to her?” His eyes narrow as he takes another menacing step closer to the man, his shoulders squaring up.

You warily wrap your arm around his waist as another, more pressing physical reminder. “Arthur, you promised.” 

“Better listen to the little lady, mister,” the drunk keeps pushing, taunting Arthur even further. “And besides, I’m sure I can take care of her better than you anyway…old man.” 

Your eyes widen in shock and the room suddenly goes silent.

“Ah, shit,” John mutters from somewhere behind you. With a sigh, John snuffs out his cigarette and starts to roll up his sleeves. He knows exactly what’s coming next. So much for a relaxing night out.  

Arthur’s jaw tightens as his teeth grit painfully together. And yet still, he’s struggling internally not to cross that line. For you. 

You are impressed with Arthur’s self-control right now, as he did promise to behave himself tonight. But, you are not going to let anyone talk to Arthur like that. 

With a slight nod of acceptance, you lovingly pat Arthur’s chest and carefully withdraw your arm from his waist and take a slow and very pronounced step back from him, effectively releasing your beast upon the saloon. 

A menacing smile crosses Arthur’s lips as he realizes that like a once-caged animal, he is now free. The drunk’s face flashes confusion for only a second before Arthur’s fist flies, crashing into his jaw. The man’s body crumples haplessly to the floor, but Arthur is quick to grab him by the collar, landing another crushing blow to his face. And then yet another, causing blood to spatter through the air. 

There is a sudden explosion of action all around you. You take several staggering steps backwards out of the way until your back collides with a solid wall of muscle. You gasp in a brief panic. But as you turn, you see that it’s Charles. And he is quick to grab you by the hips and lifts you up to sit on the bar, safely out of the way before heading to Arthur’s side. John is already at the ready, smiling cheekily as he throws punches at anyone that gets into his way. 

The saloon quickly erupts into an all-out brawl. Chairs get tossed through the air and tables flip over as angry shouting erupts into the atmosphere. Arthur has already beaten the first idiot senseless and has since taken on two more that ineptly tried to jump him in their friend’s defense. 

Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch Arthur’s bloodied knuckles land into yet another man’s ribs, lifting his body clean off the ground with the force of the blow. The poor man’s face contorts as if he is about to throw-up a lung. But he doesn’t have time to, as Arthur quickly heaves the man up and then slams him flat on his back to the floor, knocking him out cold. But Arthur quickly recovers to deliver an upper-cut punch to another approaching brawler, filling the air with the disgusting, gut-wrenching sound of bone cracking. 

You cast a quick glance to the corner to check on the safety of your friends to find Lenny and Sean already in the thick of the fight as well. Karen is standing on a chair, cackling and hollering, encouraging the fight, while Abigail has tucked herself safely into a corner. 

“Come on, Arthur! Knock his lights out!” hollers Karen, waving her beer bottle towards the surging mob. 

While you are preoccupied with your friends’ safety, you are startled back to the action in front of you when a drunk gets thrown into you, his head landing in your lap. You yelp in surprise as you look down and immediately grab a bottle from behind the bar, smashing it on his head. The man is knocked senseless and drops to the floor at your feet. 

After about twenty minutes of chaos, the fight ends just as quickly as it began. Arthur stands in the middle of the room, his chest heaving, with men sprawled out in unconscious heaps at his feet. He looks down at his knuckles, annoyed at the cuts and mess, and spits out a bit of blood from his cut lip onto the floor. He and John exchange a grin, an unspoken check that the other one is okay. Arthur then scans the room for Charles and catches sight of him just as he tosses some dimwit to the floor. Sean and Lenny stand next to each other, congratulating the other on a job well-done. All are accounted for and alive. A few new bruises, but thankfully none are worse for wear. 

Finally, Arthur’s eyes search for you. He finds you still perched upon the bar. Your eyes are wide in astonishment and your chest rises and falls to catch your panicked breath. Arthur’s lips draw inward in guilt, realizing that he’s broken his promise to you. Shame begins to take hold of him, beating about within his rib cage like a bird in flight.

You are not blind nor indifferent to Arthur’s violent tendencies, but you are always so taken aback when you see it first-hand. He is always so mindful and careful with you. But with others, not so much. Arthur is one of those people where if he likes you, he loves you. If he hates you, heaven help you. And his sheer strength and volatility is a wondrous thing to behold. 

Blood thunders in your ears as you stare at him, dumbfounded. Your heart races. And it beats for Arthur. It would bleed for him, too. 

And then Arthur witnesses a most incredible thing happening. A smirk begins to blossom across your lips as you hold his gaze. Instead of turning in repulsion from what he’s done, you cock an eyebrow at him as you silently hold your arms out, reaching for him. 

Without a word, Arthur walks through the minefield of bodies, stepping over arms and legs that are bent at odd angles. He sets his bruised hands upon your waist and gently lifts you down until your small feet touch the dusty floor. You smile up at him, lifting your thumb to gently swipe away the bit of blood that stains his bruised face.

“Let’s go,” you whisper to him as you tuck your arm around his. He doesn’t say anything, only gives you a slight smile and nods, leading you towards the door. 

And as you make your way through the crowd, you pause to stand over that first drunk, the one that started this whole mess. He is still sprawled out unconscious on the floor in a deep crimson pool of his own blood. You look down with a frown and promptly kick him in the ribs before heading to the doors. 

As soon as you get outside, the cold air hits you in the face with an exhilarating jolt. Rushing down the few steps of the saloon, you abruptly spin into Arthur’s chest, reaching up to grab fistfuls of his hair as you pull him down to your lips. You hungrily kiss him, your tongue thrust into his mouth and trying to ignore how the taste of his blood from his busted lip excites you even more. When you pry yourself from his face, your bosom heaving with desire, you lock eyes with him. You have never been so riled up in your life. 

“We need to get back to our room. Now.”

It only takes a second for Arthur to register the idea. “Right.” And he snatches your hand up into his, dragging you across the dirt street, your feet skipping to keep up with his long strides. 

The moment you enter the hotel lobby, you sprint ahead of him, pulling him up the stairs behind you. The two of you bounce off of the walls of the hallway, knocking into meticulously placed picture frames as arms and hands grasp at each other. Lips desperately try to find and land on a patch of skin, any patch will do, in the process. 

Reaching the door to your room, Arthur’s attention momentarily leaves you to fumble with the key to the lock, the last obstacle between you and sweet ecstasy. A childish pout graces your face at the loss of his lips on yours, and you are quick to reach up and latch your own to his neck, teeth grazing his beard-stubbled flesh. The moment your teeth sink into his neck, Arthur almost drops the key, a lustful groan involuntarily crossing his lips. His hips reflexively push you against the door for a moment, grinding in an effort to find the sought-after friction he needs. He tastes salty from working up a sweat during the bar fight. And you’ll be working him into a froth before the night is over, for sure. A mumbled chain of expletives drops from his mouth until he can get his fingers to work properly to fit the key into the lock.

He finally manages to free the heavy wooden door from its confines and barrels through the entryway, dragging you with him. You bumble ungracefully into the room which is still warm with the remnants of a fire burning in the small fireplace. 

Your lips remain heatedly locked together as your hands make quick work of the buttons of Arthur’s shirt, roughly shoving the fabric back off his shoulders to expose his tanned skin. Your fingertips are already at the buttons of his pants while he is still fumbling with the strings of your dress, his large fingers unable to handle the small knots. Frustrated, Arthur grabs the seams, about ready to pull the damn thing apart and rip it off you when you abruptly stop, pulling back from him and grabbing his face. His eyes shoot open in surprise. 

“Don’t you dare rip this dress, Arthur Morgan!” You snap sharply “You already owe me a new dress from the last one you ripped.”

He gives you a frustrated snort, like a bull about to charge, and a scowl of impatience on his handsome face. 

A sultry smirk of empathy quickly floats along your face. With your hands placed on his chest, you push Arthur backwards, nibbling on his lips as you do, until his legs touch the edge of the bed. You sweep your foot against his, making him lose his balance as you aggressively push him over. His hat tumbles to the floor as his hands thread behind his head to watch you. 

You step back and begin to untie the strings of your dress. You accentuate your movements as the ties become undone and you pull the fabric from your shoulders. You shake your hips a little with a dance as the rest of the dress falls from your supple hips to gather on the floor. Unable to look away from your little show, Arthur draws his hand over his mouth in anticipation. He is literally salivating at the idea of you. 

Within moments you are bare as the day you were born and on display for him to take in the view. You pull at the pins holding your hair up and the thick waves tumble down around your graceful shoulders, the tips of the curls dancing across the smooth skin of your breasts. Arthur’s whole body actually shudders, making you smile at the control you have right now. 

You stealthily climb over him like a cat stalking its prey, leaving kisses along his abdomen as you crawl along his muscled body. When he runs the back of his knuckles across your cheek, you take a hold of his hand, pausing briefly to assess the damage before placing your delicate lips to the cuts and bruises. You look into his eyes, beholding him with such love and affection. 

“Now that you’ve seen what I really am, do you think you'll still keep lovin’ me?” Arthur asks. His question is said both in jest and in earnest. 

“I’ve always known what you are, Arthur. I just didn’t realize that you were this beautiful.”

Tears would flood his eyes if he had the time to process what you’ve said. But you quickly pounce before his mind can spiral on you as you place one more heated and deep kiss on his mouth, your teeth pulling on his lips, before you backtrack to hover over his pelvis. He is rock-hard at this point, clearly visible under the denim of his jeans. You fish your hand under the fabric to pull out his large and swollen cock. Caressing it in your hand, you give a few quick pumps before your hot mouth envelops him. 

Arthur’s eyes never leave you, raptly watching as you work. The sight of you handling him, of your mouth bobbing around his cock, is the most amazing thing to witness. His mouth falls open and his eyes roll back at the sweet pressure of your lips on his most delicate area, a euphoric mixture of pleasure and pain. Arthur flops back onto the bed, arms wobbly and unable to hold himself up anymore. His large hand comes up to grab a fistful of your soft hair, his palm working open and closed in an effort to pace himself. 

You hum as your mouth bobs up and down his shaft and the gentle vibration travels through his skin like electricity, causing him to hiss and groan. Giving Arthur a taste of his own medicine, you pull along his cock faster, tightening the muscles of your mouth to squeeze a bit more, making him harder than ever. Your hand then reaches down to cup his testicles, rolling them gently amongst your soft fingers. Arthur’s breathing becomes increasingly sporadic as his mind is pushed to the limit and about to explode. 

When you get to the point where you just can’t prolong your own release any longer, you pull his cock from your mouth with one last lick to the underside of his tip. You walk yourself up on your knees until your hips line up with his. With a wanton little whimper, you lower down onto him, his thick cock filling you to the point where he hits the back wall of your cunt. Your chin dips to your chest as your breath gets sucked in at the ever-tight fit. Likewise, Arthur lets out a hissing groan as his hands shoot upward to grip your thighs tightly.

You pause a moment to collect yourself and then slowly lift your lashes to meet his heated gaze. The outlaw sees his own lustful expression staring back at him in your shimmering eyes and his heart skips a beat because of it. A slow hiss from the back of your throat falls from your shaking lips as you take a moment to try to form coherent words.

Finally, you are able to focus long enough to string together only one thought out loud, which comes out in a husky whisper:  

“I am going to ride you like a stolen horse, cowboy.”

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*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people. 

[strayrumia]

Unfamiliarity (oneshot)

felix x fem!reader

Synopsis: After her break-up from her long-term relationship, [Y/n] is left wondering if she was deserving of love and gentleness. Fortunately for her, she has a best friend who's been supporting her since the beginning. Not only that, but he's also more than happy to show her she deserves the love she longed for. -or- [Y/n] is left touch-deprived and doubting that she's deserving of anything wholesome after having left a relationship that left her with nothing but heartbreak, trauma, and neglect. Her best friend proves her wrong.

Genre(s): fluffy ending, implied best friends to lovers (can be taken platonically), angst Other tags: non!idol au, (wholesome) physical touch Content/Trigger Warning(s): mentions of SA (s*xual ab*se) and emotional ab*se from past relationship, very heavy mentions of insecurity and feeling worth is based off s*x, mentions of food

[A/N]: This is more of a ventfic and something that I wanted to just let out. It might not be the best fic I've written as it has a VERY open ending/lacks a proper ending. I also wrote this late at night, very head-empty. I hope if you do read it, you'll feel heard or a reminder that you deserve the love you give to others! <3

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Weeks.

Has it been weeks?

No, it's actually been a few months since the day you gained the confidence and willpower to walk out on your past and very toxic relationship. You've kept track. After all, you thought your ex would be hurting too, until you've discovered from mutual friends that he had already moved on.

That's right. At first, it was a mention from a mutual that they've heard him mention on his own socials that he was going to a concert - a concert of a group you were very confident he didn't know nor listen to very much. Then the day came when it was the supposed concert. You saw on another mutual friend's Instagram that he was seeing the group with the same girl he told you not to worry about countless times prior. The same girl who he would not hesitate to make time when she said the word, yet when you asked him for his time, he would throw a fit. Then goes the most recent news - that he was supposedly trying to get on his coworker.

This boy was the same one who told you, when you sobbed to him while trying to stand your ground, that he didn't agree to this relationship ending and he wanted to continue fighting for you two. The same one that told you that he'd rather you stay with him and heal than walk away. The same one who told you, "will we ever be together again in the future?"

It hurt.

It hurt knowing that this person you gave five long, hard years for threw you away so easily. You fought for him despite your friends and family refusing to support your relationship, despite the fact that they all mentioned how he had red flags yet your young, naive self gave him the benefit of the doubt. You fought for him, yet you got taken advantage of in more ways than you want to remember while he felt little to no remorse for his actions as his words never aligned.

It hurt knowing that while you gave a lot of love to him, you're left wondering if you're even enough for another person, if there will ever be someone in your life to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. While you were still healing, your ex, who you walked away still full of love, was ready to find the next person to fuck around with.

Though many of your friends suggested you to hop on the dating apps and just fuck your feelings away to those who had no strings attached, you knew you couldn't do that. You love with your whole heart. Sure you can sleep with others and enjoy the sex life with potential partners who shared your kinky fantasies, but how can you? Your relationship was full of one-sided lust that you felt like you were only good for sex.

You were healing a lot faster now that months had gone by since your breakup, but it didn't stop the thoughts of insecurity that would constantly come up every now and then. You've gone on many hangouts with friends who happened to be dating and seen just how wonderfully they treat each other and it makes you wonder... 'Will I ever get that kind of treatment?'

After your breakup, you made a vow to yourself that you would set aside as much time as you can to spend with your friends and family, the very people who supported you individually from the start and continued to even after that. Through each hangout, your best friend, Felix, was there every step of the way.

He was always there since the beginning. He was there when he warned you about your ex before you got into that relationship. He was there during your entire relationship, albeit being at a bit of a distance to respect your space and privacy with your partner. Lastly, he's there for you right now.

You had spent the whole day with him, letting the day be a normal hangout - one that allowed you two to enjoy board games with other friends before they had to go home, leaving you alone in your small apartment with Felix.

After the mutual friends had left, Felix had noticed your mood shift slightly towards the end of the game night and decided to bake you some chocolate chip cookies as a treat to cheer you up. He knew they were your favorite sweet treats after all. While he prepped the ingredients and put up a YouTube video in the background, you scrolled through your Instagram feed lazily, only to have the worst timing and notice the same girl you were warned to not worry about post about your ex yet again. Yes you were doing better in this healing process but the pain was still ever so present.

You let out an exasperated sigh as your head dropped into your folded arms against the counter, causing Felix to look up from the video and pause. "Are you alright?"

You only responded with an unhappy, muffled groan in your arms. Felix raised an eyebrow at you as his gaze shifted towards the phone in your hand. Your screen stayed stagnant on the post with your friend and your ex.

"You know, you could always remove this girl from your socials. Why don't you? It's not like you still talk to her." Felix suggested, taking your phone out of your hands and analyzing the post.

"She hasn't done anything directly to make me have a reason to cut her off... it wouldn't be right." You retorted. That thought often crossed your mind without him even mentioning it if you were being honest. It would lift a mental load on you to remove the last person who wanted to associate with your ex from your social media, but you still felt it was wrong to remove someone who never hurt you, at least with intention.

Felix scoffed. "Does it matter? She doesn't know him well enough to know what he did to you, or to anticipate what he might do to her. If it helps you in the long run, you might as well do it."

You ignored his reply, your thoughts were going elsewhere anyway. You stared into nothingness as the post's image burned into your brain, how happy the girl was to be beside the abuser. Your thoughts were going all over the place if you were being honest.

'Why do you want to associate with him? He's a horrible person! Ugh, but you don't know...'

'You don't even know how terrible he is, but I guess sometimes people only learn the hard way...'

'He literally told me not to worry about her and how he only saw her as a little sister figure but why was his hand so dangerously low in that photo...'

'Just how many lies did he feed me to keep me from trusting my gut feelings...'

'She is a pretty girl with a gorgeous figure... it's no wonder he kept his eyes on her.'

'She was the one worth driving an hour and more for without hesitation. She was the one he was willing to treat out to restaurants and gift flowers for. I was the inconvenience after all...'

Your thoughts were becoming sadder and darker as they went through each and every lie he told you. Tears began to well in your eyes until you suddenly felt your hand getting tugged, dragging you out of your thoughts and into the situation at hand. Felix started leading you towards your couch and maneuvered you into sitting onto his lap.

"Wh- Felix, what are you doing? I-I'm heavy!" You started to get embarrassed and immediately tried to lift yourself from his lap, only for him to keep you there with his arms. He kept you in a gentle yet firm embrace that prevented you from trying to escape.

"You're not even heavy, stop it." You stopped squirming and just continued to avoid his gaze. You knew if he saw the tears threatening to fall from your eyes you would hear it from him, but he surprisingly said nothing as he kept you in his arms.

He reached over to the side and grabbed a blanket nearby, drooping over his back before he took each end to make his way to wrap you in. He gently cradled your head into his neck, his head sitting softly atop yours. His other arm kept you in an unescapable hold while rubbing small circles on your back. Although you wanted to escape out of embarrassment, you didn't retaliate to his small, gentle gestures. You felt your muddy thoughts begin to clear out as Felix continued to cradle you in his arms.

"Felix... what are you doing?" You repeated with more naivety and less aggression.

"What does it look like, [Y/n]?"

Your face began to flush, but you tried your best to pay it no mind. "You don't need to do this to me, okay? I don't... I don't deserve it."

"Why do you think you don't deserve it?"

The post burned into your mind again. "Because... there are better people out there who deserve it more than I do." Like her. I'm not someone you should be doing these kinds of things to. I don't deserve it.

"Hmm... maybe you're right, but I know you deserve to feel secure and have affection too." Felix replied, adjusting slightly to turn your head to face his direction as he started brushing his fingers through your hair, pushing your loose strands away from your face to the best of his ability in your position. The gesture small yet soothing, an unfamiliar feeling that you definitely leaned into and enjoyed every minute of.

"I can't imagine what he put you through but what I can tell you is that you too are deserving of more than just being treated as an object. You're not an object, you're a human, okay? So don't ever treat yourself as anything less when you deserve more."

You felt the tears in your eyes rebuild from the ever growing happiness in your heart hearing his words, but you fought them from overflowing. You shook your head, wanting to retort more but as you opened your mouth, the words never left your throat. It felt that if you tried to counter Felix again, the tears would win over and you wouldn't be able to stop. 'I really don't...'

"[Y/n]," he softly pressed his lips against the crown of your head. "You deserve to feel loved too. You deserve to experience the joys of getting a wonderful surprise from your support system. You deserve to be invited and brought to cute and romantic dates with lots of effort. You deserve something even as simple as handholding!"

It's as if he felt your tears fall because he pulled you away from him to use his free hand to gently wipe away the tears from your eyes, not caring that they lightly stained his sleeve and shirt. He continued to brush your loose hairs away from your facial features as he made sure you kept your eyes on him. "You are loved and you will experience that love too. If you allow me, I will show you exactly how you should be treated - although, it might just be the same as what we already do."

"But... what would be the difference between the things we do now compared to the things we will do after this point?"

"Well, I guess I won't have to hold back how I feel about you. That would probably be the only difference." He said with a small chuckle. "But you don't have to worry about anything, I don't expect you to feel anything right away nor do I want you to feel rushed into deciding anything with me. I just want you to experience the love, respect, and happiness you're supposed to have."

You thought about it with a smile. Your current experience with Felix as of recently has been filled with nothing but joy and laughter. There would be times where you would vent about your healing thoughts and he would generously offer an ear and shoulder. Most of the time, however, it was genuine laughs and happiness that triggered your habit of hiccupping when you laughed too hard. Those memories you've made with him recently just made you enjoy his presence more and more. It was no lie that he made sure he always thought of your picky habits whenever others wanted to go to a restaurant, how he made your heart flutter with every smile he shone at you and every gentlemanly gesture he did in consideration of you.

It wasn't going to be an easy lesson to relearn but you knew exactly what he was trying to teach you. You don't know how to accept such kind and affectionate gestures because you were so used to bland, lustful touches. You didn't think you deserved to be treated so delicately when all you've known is how to be used and thrown to the side when the other was no longer satisfied.

It was hard, but you can feel your healing process become much easier and smoother with Felix by your side. After all, he knew you best, he witnessed you through your highs and lows to the point where he learned what ticked you off and what brought you the highest joy. He's someone who observed and applied what he learned to make sure you would be treated with the respect you deserved.

It won't be quick and it won't be easy, but one thing you know for sure is that you felt the most safe and loved with him than anyone you can ever imagine.

-End-

[soulessjourney]

Ashes of Panem

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Paring: (young) Coriolanus x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Ashcroft had trained together since their entry into the academy. However, when their names were drawn, they found themselves pitted against each other and twenty other children in these games. As Y/N became a symbol of rebellion akin to her great grandmother, who vanished shortly after Panem's liberation, the looming threats of war and the approaching games forced Coriolanus and Y/N to forge an alliance. Amidst these challenges, they had to learn to trust and support one another in order to break free from Coin's oppressive regime.

Warnings: None

A/N: Eat up kids, this is girl dinner and my best friend helped me deicde what course of action to take at the end. She's a long one but I hope this feeds you until I can plot how the next couple of drafts will go.

Selection day—the one day of the year that turned into everyone’s personal hell. With the recent changes, you found yourself wearing a knee-length red velvet dress that stopped just below your knees, its collar reaching midway up your neck. One perk was that it had pockets, one of the best inventions for a dress. Your hair cascaded in soft curls, its length falling over your shoulders, stopping just below your shoulder blades.

Navigating through the dense crowd, you moved towards the outskirts, finding solace just off to the side. The conversations with the various district representatives had grown tiresome, feeling more like you were selling yourself rather than seeking aid to stay alive. It left you feeling sick, as if you were begging these people to save you, a sensation that made you feel as pathetic as you appeared.

Startled, you jumped when a glass came into view right in front of your face. Following the hand holding it, you relaxed at the sight of Coriolanus. Despite your indifference for him, you were relieved it was him and not another district official. “You look like you’re about to pass out, drink some water,” he urged, offering the glass again, smiling as you took it. “You look beautiful, by the way. I haven’t had the chance to tell you that tonight.”

“You ditched me the moment we walked in here, Snow. Also, you’re not one for giving out compliments, so what do you want?” you questioned, raising a brow. It was a fact—he didn't usually dole out compliments unless there was something he wanted or someone he wanted to involve in some scheme, and you suspected it wasn’t the latter.

“I don’t want anything. I just enjoy being right. Red is definitely your color, Snowflake. It brings out those eyes of yours,” he shrugged, taking a sip from his glass. “I saw how you were earlier, looking as if you wanted to tear their heads off their shoulders when they tried to touch you,” he continued, drawing your attention back to him. “I won’t let them hurt you, Snowflake. They’d be foolish to even try,” he said, smiling down at you. A blush dusted your cheeks, prompting you to awkwardly turn away from him in an attempt to hide it.

Before you could respond, the Capital anthem started playing through the speakers, signaling the arrival of Cassius Coin, President Coin’s grandson. He walked forward, reaching the end of the balcony that overlooked the room. Soft claps welcomed him, though your classmates appeared mildly annoyed, preferring to be fighting in the arena than standing here in that moment. Raising his hands, Cassius silenced the room, commencing the same speech he gave every year.

“Good evening, students and representatives from the districts. I hope you've been enjoying your evening thus far. As we all know, this is an important evening marking the seventieth year of the Capital Games. Selection night holds historical significance. Many may perceive it as a punishment when, in fact, it is quite the opposite. This is an opportunity for all of you to display your loyalty to New Panem by entering the arena, striving to emerge victorious. In this new world, we've learned that only the strong can survive,” Cassius declared.

Beside you, Coriolanus scoffed. “This has to be the most morbid thing I've ever heard,” he muttered, keeping his gaze forward. Sensing your confusion, he continued, “Saying we should be happy to meet our deaths, I mean. We’ve proven our loyalty throughout our time in this academy, so why do only the games matter?” he grumbled, shifting his gaze down to you. “Some of us don’t deserve this fate,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Now, it is time to announce our selected students for this year's games," Cassius announced loudly. "I would like to start by unveiling a new change. As of this year, we will not be drawing names," he declared, as the screens on either side of him illuminated with a list of twenty-two names. Your heart skipped a beat, and Coriolanus drew in a deep breath. Somewhere off to the side, a cry echoed through the room. It was your class rankings, precisely in the order displayed after your evaluations. "Congratulations to those of you who fought for these spots and demonstrated your loyalty to the Capital!" Cassius shouted enthusiastically.

The glass you held slipped from your grasp and crashed to the ground, the shards pooling around your feet and cutting into your ankles. Stumbling back, the world began to spin, and bile surged up your throat. Coriolanus reached out, but you brushed him off, staggering out of the room and down the hall. Flinging the doors open at the hall's entrance, you fell to your knees, retching into the nearby bushes. Footsteps hurried toward you, but you ignored them. Your breathing became rapid, struggling to draw air into your lungs. It felt like you were suffocating, an inability to fill your lungs.

Someone attempted to speak to you, but the words sounded muffled, lost amidst the ringing in your ears. Clutching at your chest, you felt your heart racing. Tears streamed down your face, unnoticed in your frenzy. Cool hands cupped your cheeks, forcing your gaze upward to meet Coriolanus's blue eyes, ones you usually avoided. His lips moved, but the words eluded you, drowned out by ringing in your head. Covering your mouth, you retched again, feeling his hands soothingly pat your back and brush your hair away.

Sitting up, you found Coriolanus gently holding your face, his touch a stark contrast to his usual impatience. "Focus on me, Y/N. Just focus on me," he urged softly, locking eyes with yours.

Coriolanus was hardly known for his patience, but his demeanor now surprised you. In the academy, he exhibited a short temper, particularly when things didn't align with his desires. But this was different. He wasn't berating you for crying or falling apart. Seeking answers in his gaze, he enveloped you in a tight embrace, anchoring you in his arms. "You're going to be okay, Snowflake. Everything's going to be okay," he whispered. As your sobs gradually eased, he pulled away and peered at you, a faint smile gracing his lips. "There you are."

Wiping away your tears and streaked eyeliner, he cupped your cheeks. "Here's the plan, Snowflake. We'll go back in there and present ourselves to the districts," he said, anticipating your disagreement. "No, listen. We'll act as they expect us to—like the puppets they want us to be. We'll interact with the representatives together and aim for District One or Two. They have more resources. Fix your makeup, and meet me back in the hall. Understood?" He pressed, his thumb tracing your jawline, awaiting your response. When you hesitated, he shook you gently and repeated, "Understood?"

Unable to trust your voice, you nodded in agreement, observing the relieved smile that graced his face. "Good, that's good. Freshen up, and I'll be waiting inside for you," Coriolanus said before making his way back into the building, leaving you sitting there, feeling the cool air nip at your nose and cheeks.

---

It took you less than twenty minutes to freshen up your appearance before returning to the hall. Students conversed among themselves, their attention fixed on the screens displaying your class ranks. The sight itself made you queasy. In the frenzy of those destined for the games fighting for representatives' attention, the crowd parted, in a way that reminded you of those novels you read when you were younger, revealing Coriolanus making his way toward you, his gaze unwaveringly locked on you.

Coriolanus halted in front of you, his blue eyes briefly scanning the area behind you. Extending his arm, he looked at you, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Follow my lead, Snowflake. You'll need to act that little heart out," he said, wearing a broad smile as he approached two figures. "Mr. Larue, this is my girlfriend Y/N, whom I mentioned earlier," he announced. Girlfriend? You weren't sure if he was joking, delusional, or both, because clearly, you missed something between the time he left you outside and your return to the hall.

"Ah, Y/N, you're just as beautiful as he described. What are the odds that you're both paired together for this year's games?" the older gentleman remarked, appearing no older than 70. His frail skin and patchy white hair gave him a delicate appearance. "Mr. Snow mentioned your admiration for District One, and I must say, it's refreshing to hear someone who knows her stuff," he continued, flashing overly white teeth.

Chewing on your lip, you glanced up at Coriolanus, who waited for you to falter in the act he had imposed on you. "Well, Mr. Larue, I didn’t know my boyfriend decided to boast about my interests, but he's right. I do admire what your district stands for. It would be an honor to have your sponsorship, demonstrating not only my loyalty to the capital but also my appreciation for your work," you responded, eliciting a proud smile from Mr. Larue.

He let out a laugh and gently patted Coriolanus' arm. "You have quite the charmer here, Mr. Snow. She's a keeper. It's almost a shame that I have to watch such a lovely couple fight in the arena," he said, frowning, just as Coriolanus chuckled, a sound you'd do anything to hear again.

"I suppose we'll have to show you just how powerful our alliance is," Coriolanus said, reaching over with his free hand to squeeze your hand resting on his arm. He looked down at you, his gaze soft along with his smile. Anyone who didn't know him would think that he was in love with you, and honestly? He almost had you convinced. "I'll give you time to think it over, Mr. Larue. Meanwhile, how about a dance, Y/N? Why not enjoy what time we may have left together with something so intimate?" he asked.

You felt your brow twitch at his words. He was overdoing it with that final phrase, but it seemed like the older gentleman was utterly captivated by Coriolanus' words. "A dance sounds amazing. If you'll excuse us," you said, turning to give Mr. Larue a respectful nod before walking off with Coriolanus in tow. "Out of all the things to make me do, you went for the idea of having me be your girlfriend?" you snapped your head to look at him.

Coriolanus shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "I want to do the most if we're going to our deaths," he said simply, causing your jaw to drop. Pulling you onto the dance floor, he placed a hand on the small of your back and gently held your hand. "Close your mouth, Snowflake. It's unbecoming for a lady to stand with her mouth open," he teased, earning him a scoff in response. Placing your hand on his shoulder, the two of you began to move around the dance floor with the other pairs.

"I won't let you die in there, Y/N. I will do everything in my power to make sure that we make it out alive. I heard rumors that they'll let two of us live as long as it's two individuals of the same pair," he murmured, lowering his head to speak near your ear. "I won't be letting you out of my sight for a second anymore."

Rolling your eyes, you caught sight of other district officials watching both of you. Now you knew why he wanted you to wear red so badly. You two stuck out like a sore thumb against the other students who wore black or white. Coriolanus knew how to play the game, and he would ensure that both of you won.

---

After what felt like hours, the gala came to an end, leaving you utterly exhausted. You and Coriolanus managed to secure a sponsor from District One after winning over Mr. Larue with your act. Rolling back your shoulders, you turned your head to gaze out the window. Snow had begun to fall, lining the sidewalks in a soft sheet of flakes. You turned when the material of a jacket rested on your shoulders, and Coriolanus looked down at you with tired eyes.

"Coryo, it's cold out, you need your jacket." You hadn't even noticed the nickname that slipped from your lips, but he did. He was well aware of what you called him, and he loved it.

"You're going to need it more, that dress will do nothing to protect you from the cold," he remarked, moving to lean against the wall next to you, watching the snow fall outside. "Things are going to be hard from here on out. We have to learn how to trust one another, especially if we're paired to keep one another alive for as long as possible."

"You haven't necessarily given me a reason to trust you, Snow. You don't exactly make it easy," you said, tensing when he looked at you, his gaze piercing your soul. He raised his brows in question, prompting you to continue. "You're not exactly the talkative type, and if you are, it's only because you want something from me. So, how can I trust someone who only sees me when they want something from me?" You pulled his coat tighter around you, seeking some solace from his penetrating stare.

"I've always seen you, Y/N. Don't think for a second that I haven't seen you because I have. In fact, it's almost annoying how much I see you," he replied. It was your turn to raise your brows. "It doesn't matter. Why don't we head back? It's getting late, and I doubt that your parents want you out too late. Come on, I'll walk you home."

The both of you walked out of the building, with you trailing slightly behind him. Coriolanus Snow was a mystery to you. From his words to his actions, you couldn't make sense of him. You wanted to demand that he make up his mind about how he treated you, but you knew it wouldn't lead anywhere.

Quickening your pace, you moved to catch up with him. "If you want me to learn how to trust you, then tell me about you. What makes you Coriolanus Snow?" you asked. You could see his jaw clench as he contemplated how to respond. Coriolanus was always one to talk, except when it was about himself. He often reminded you of a captivating but complex book that was hard to read. You refused to put down his book; you wanted to learn about him, to understand his character, and establishing trust was the first step. "In return, I'll tell you my deepest, darkest secret," you teased, nudging his shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Is there something that defines who I am?" he asked, though it sounded more like a question directed at himself. "Sometimes, I find myself pretending to be someone I'm not," he began. "At the academy and even when I'm with you, I feel compelled to embody this controlled and calculated persona. I refrain from revealing my true self because I fear you might flee. This facade I wear keeps me in good standing at the academy and in proximity to you. It keeps me close enough so that I never have to worry." His words sent a chill through you. They carried an air of possession.

"Snow, you won't scare me away. It takes more than a facade to scare me off. We're being trained to fight to the death against twenty other children; I believe I can handle occasional outbursts from you." You attempted a reassuring smile, but he abruptly halted, turning to gaze at you.

"You don't get it, Snowflake. I don't wish to share you with anyone else. You kept yourself distant from others out of fear of loss. Knowing that made me content, content in the knowledge that no one else stood by your side to snatch you away," he whispered, leaning in until his breath nearly met yours. "I want to shield you from the world, from the games where no one can have you." His confession widened your eyes, prompting a step back as you struggled to comprehend his words.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head, observing your breath forming mist in the cold air. "That's not what you want, Snow. Trust me. You won't find happiness with me. In fact, if you knew the concealed parts of me, you'd be the one fleeing." You noticed a spark in his eyes, perhaps a reflection of the shared darkness within both of you, fighting to break free.

Just as you near the gate leading to your home, Coriolanus seized your wrist, halting your movement. "Why do you hide from me, Snowflake? You want me to see you, so why keep yourself hidden? I can't see you if you won't let me." He drew you closer, his hand caressing your cheek, the warmth contrasting with his cold touch. He exuded warmth, emitting a scent of roses that intoxicated. Interpreting your silence as an answer, he leaned down, lightly brushing his lips against your forehead before retracting, his thumb grazing your lips.

Stepping away, you retreated and closed the gate behind you. Turning to glance at him from the other side, you noticed how he stood taller, his curls framing his eyes. Snowflakes fell on his eyelashes, accentuating the rosy hue on his cheeks due to the wintry air. "I hide because I'm nothing but poison, Coriolanus. Poison you shouldn't get entangled with. I'd do more harm than good, so don't be greedy and try a taste. You'll only end up hurting yourself in the end," you stated, casting one final glance before pivoting on your heel and entering your home.

Tags:@notyourwildestdream

[hocuspocusbabyy]

Learn to love it:

A Fic request from @selfcestmovies who also provided the beautiful cover art ⬇️

Rating: 18+ (E)

Pairing: Young Agatha Harkness x Older Agatha Harkness

Warnings: Public sex, faint daddy kink, alcohol consumption, selfcest.

Agatha needed a drink. Like a real fucking drink, one paid for by some seedy guy at a bar that she didn't know the name of. The kind of guy that made her skin crawl, but then again enough seedy guys and free drinks the crawling starts to feel more like a shiver, something almost bearable. She waltzed up to the bar crop top and leather jeans, heeled boots helping her view the liquor available for selection. Rows upon rows of brightly stained glass form every country imaginable, every poison available to her. The light seemed to catch a dusty bottle in the back corner with the image of a green fairy catching her eye - the young woman was taken back to her time in Paris, with her... Agatha swallowed thickly flagging down the bartender with the flick of her perfectly painted black nails.

Thinking about her always had this effect, which often led to drinking, drinking into forgetting. Though how else would one forget themselves? Lose how perfectly their reflection moved without influence. Free for viewing, a wilderness many would never experience. Agatha longed for the nights where her shadow split in two.

Three years ago…

She rests her hand on the stained bar, intersecting circles left behind from long-ago drinks. Green absinthe poured into a glass, a cube of sugar floating above it. Agatha watched as the barkeep meticulously dripped water over the club till it dissolved into a sugary film.

She turned to face the room, glass in hand, balanced between her slim fingers. There are couples curled together in dark corners, there are writhing bodies against one wall, moans of pleasure dampened by indie music from the band upstairs. The pool room catches her eyes, round five men were arguing over-rules and tactics, it would be easy prey for her to get a few games in at their expense. She loved to hustle, after all, she was just an innocent girl who needed a man to teach her how to play - right?

"Princess!" Agatha looked towards the noise and grimaced, "We see you over there, come play doubles with us," Some taller button-down wearing nobody shouts from where he's crammed into the pool room with his two friends all three dripping with their own apparently sleaze as they eyed Agatha up and down. The brunette merely smiled, she could practically smell the trio from where she stood all cheap beer, too much clone and bad dental plans. The perfect targets for a couple of free drinks and a pool hustle.

Agatha pulls on her best sickeningly sweet smile, giggling childishly "oh I don't know fellas, I'm not very good" she plays with a strand of her hair, walking towards the pool room. The men now grinning between themselves, elbows nudging, drinks spilling.

"I'd hate for you to lose, because of me" Agatha continued as she reached the table swinging her knees together, the perfect image of innocence to lure these idiots into a false sense of security.

"Not a problem Sweetheart." One particularly potent blonde states swinging an arm over the brunette and smiling, his eyes most definitely fixating a little too often in her breasts as he spoke. "You'll be playing with me and well— I won't lose." He winks, nudging her lightly and the other two set up the game, howling like dogs to support his claims.

"Oh well." Agatha tutted, fighting the desire to roll her eyes, "I guess you wouldn't mind us playing one on one then? Make things fair?" She asks, fluttering her eyelashes adorably.

The blonde laughs looking at his friends like a dog in heat, scratching his stubbled jaw pretending to think about it. "You know what gorgeous, you're on I'll even bet on it." He states cockily slamming down a $50 on the table.

Agatha cocks her brow slightly, surprised at his confidence just knowing how much more fun it will be even if she eventually beats him. Sliding a hand into her own back pocket, not ignorant to the way all three men followed her hand like a magnet, the brunette placed her own $50 onto the table - $100 on the line, easy money she grinned.

"Alrighty then," Agatha started, downing the last of her drink and dumping her empty glass in one of the nameless hands. She bit her lip, making a show of eyeing up the cues, weighting one in each hand before choosing her own to chalk up. "But take it easy on me." She winks, her voice dripping like honey as the blonde bends down to break the table and start the game.

"You got it, princess." He grins as he takes aim to pot a striped ball by bouncing it off the top left corner rather than the solid straight shot in front of him. Obviously trying to show off. He potted but missed on the second go, sighing heavily and calling himself a twat, something that Agatha was honestly inclined to agree with.

Agatha watched the move, and grinned to herself - men were so predictable she thought, shaking her head. Bending over the table, the brunette lined up her first shot, shifting a solid red ball from the bottom left of the table into the top right corner with ease. The cue gliding gently between her fingers, the chipped black polish tips pressing gently into the green.

"Nice" one of the men stated at the ball potted, earning the glare from his friend.

"Beginners luck" she shrugged, bending over the table again to line up her next shot. The blonde watching with amusement knowing she was blocked by his stripped ball. The brunette smiled at the smugness before aimed over the ball, switching down at the last second so that the ball chipped and bounced over the blondes own, potting.

"Fuck" the blonde muttered shocked, each of his friends looking a similar shade of blue, the realisation they had been sharked dawning on them.

Agatha grinned at the shot, making a show of standing back up, slowly drawing her hand back up her cue before leaning on it - cocking her hip.

"What's the matter, boys? Haven't you seen someone chip in pool before?" She grinned, watching the blonde man panic about where to place his next shot. The brunette smirked at the scene, each man looking a little more heated and well- sweaty knowing Agatha could actually play pool.

The blonde missed his shot, potting the white, and the game contained on. All the while Agatha couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched... She was used to the attention, especially in bars like this one after all she was the only thing in the place that was washed within the last 72 hours. Not to say that she wasn't pretty, Agatha knows she was- is hot, but attraction and looks in this place really was second to inebriation and stimulation.

But this feeling was different, it was warm and cold all at the same time - it made the hair of her arm stand on edge. It felt familiar. As though standing in the plains between mirrors - two ways.

She took a chance glancing over her shoulder as she lined up her next shot, but missed for the first time that night when she was met by the most perfect eyes she'd ever seen in her life. Ones she'd seen everyday since birth.

The older woman sat at the bar, perfect legs crossed intensely watching the pool game from across the room. She had a high set of cheekbones coloured by the dark light in the room. A sharp jawline that could probably cut skin if you touched it just right, and then that regal slope of a nose enough for Agatha’s fingers to itch around her cue. Suddenly desperate for a pen, a paintbrush, anything to depict such beauty on a substantial thing - the walls would do. Her lips plump, the bottom one pulled between two rows of perfectly white pearly teeth as her gaze flicked up and down her body - causing a shiver.

Her shoulders sloped into toned arms that rested against the bar behind her, the stretched elder relaxed stance complimenting her slender neck, the Agatha couldn't help but lick her lips at the pale white flesh like a river after months of drought.

She was exactly how she’d always imagined herself and she was waiting.

Agatha couldn't think of a better canvas for her art, the mystery replicas battered, brushed and bitten skin the paint, and Agatha mouth the brush creating the most perfectly arousing mosaic of pinks, reds, purples...

Piercing blue eyes boring into hers with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine. The woman is smirking at her, as Agatha realises she missed her shot. The trio of men all cheered with relief.

Agatha suddenly feels extremely flustered as those blue eyes travel from her face and downwards. They fixate on her cleavage for several seconds, and when a pink tongue pokes out to lick at those plump lips, Agatha gulps.

The replica’s eyes continue to flicker over her without her consent and she sighed, lining up her next shot. She was wreaking havoc on her pool game. Her gaze switches from the tempting replica to the trio of baboons she had the displeasure of playing pool with; wanting nothing more at that moment to take their money and buy that variant a drink. Not that a woman like that would give her time the time of day. She shot, potting her final ball and looked around ready to line up the black and finish the game.

A corpus of groans emitting from the men around her, that quickly turned to giggles as they realised they'd snookered her. Two stripped balls balling her final shot at the black. Agatha sighed, standing straight and perusing the table for any possible chance to take a winning shot. It was tuff but not impossible, not if she got her angle right.

Leaning over, Agatha took her time ribs resting delicately on the table as she lined up the shot. However, Before she realises what's happening a body is behind her, a hand gripping at her lower hip, dangerously close to her backside. A slender hand running up her arm slowly. The action sent a series of goosebumps all over the brunette's skin. Agatha gulped audibly, tilting her head to see the replicas from the bar now stood beside her, their hips sinfully aligned, as a curtain of red consumed her and voice graced her ear.

"Why don't you show these idiots what's what, pot that final ball and meet me in the bathroom honey?" The replicas smirked, obviously amused by the startled look on Agatha 's face at their close proximity. The replica's gaze flicks up at the view of the men in the room, grinning before she leans down to bite the shell of her ear gently, teasing the skin and flicking it with her tongue before pulling away - making a true show of things. Staking her apparent claim.

The brunette gasps at the sensation, the two still pressed together against the table in this very public pool room.

"Thank you for taking such good care of my girl here, gentlemen I'm sorry you couldn't beat her." She winks taking in the men around them, tapping Agatha arse lightly with her palm before she straightens her back and walks off back towards the bar and aforementioned bathroom.

Agatha practically shook, grinning as she takes her final shot, potting the black and grasping the $100 from the table; stuffing it in her back pocket. "Good game fellas" she smiles, practically throwing her cue at one of them, "but if you will excuse me" she doesn't wait for an answer as she turns in her heels and rushed off in the direction of her replica.

All three of the men left stood high and dry, their jaws slack, clutching their pool cues - all a little more worked up about the show the two women had put on for them than losing $100.

She stumbles for a few steps before catching herself on shaky legs, swallowing several times as she manages to straighten herself out, rolling back her shoulders fluffing her hair lightly. The last few steps to the door are excruciatingly slow, and her hand trembles as she reaches the poorly eliminated sign of a feminine gender sign. Its glow now tainted a dull brown from years of long hours and dead flys collecting at the bottom of the bulb.

Her fingers wrap around the handle; she took a moment for herself, drawing in a series of deep long breaths. Pulling till she hears it click and jerk down, sliding open with a creak a mass of sawdust collecting along the bottom from the floor. Before Agatha can talk herself out of it, she slips inside and closes the door smoothly - there's no lock she notes as her palm lays flat against the wood pressing it undeniably shut.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming"

Agatha has to shut her eyes at the sound. Every part of her was suddenly alert and on edge, her back still to the voice. The brunette couldn't help he wonder if this was what it was like for those who faced Medusa on Sarpedon; the fearful temptation all the more overwhelming that with the promise of ethereal beauty they just had to sneak a peak - despite the consequences.

She turns around slowly, letting her eyes flutter open to land on the old woman leaning over the sink on the other side of the bathroom. She was even more gorgeous in this light, one leg propped up against the counter, a hand raised to check her makeup and then another crossed over her chest, her features bathed in the harsh fluorescent glow of the flickering light bulbs above the sink.

"Well with a proposition like that, how could I not?" Agatha gave with a laugh, The replicas' eyes gliding over the brunettes reflected features in the mirror-like a predator.

"Humm how could you indeed." The other woman hummed finally turning towards the younger woman. Her back pressed against the bathroom counter, arms places behind her to hold the dominant stance. Half drank a glass of whiskey beside her. "did you win?"

"of course I did" Agatha states proudly, almost offended at that idea she may not have.

"I've been watching you little one." The replica started sucking her teeth audibly, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Her eyebrow quirks, lips twitching into an almost unnoticeable smirk.

The term left her lips and Agatha could instantly feel the ache between her legs grow unmistakably. She presses her legs together, swallowing thickly, before nodding her head. Having an attraction to one’s self was natural surly? Having the ability to act on it… another.

"Use your words, sweetness." The replica's smirk grows, and she pushes away from the door to take a tentative step towards Agatha . "I couldn't possibly give you what we want, without your verbal consent." Her perfectly wet tongue peaking out to dampen her lips. The telltale signs of her teeth were imprinted on the delicate skin.

Agatha had to fight not to lose her balance, the closer the woman came the harder it was for her to maintain her composure - a faint yet sharp fragrance of pomegranates and bourbon consumed her. A small moan leaving her lips as her eyes flicked up to meet a familiar blue, never in her life had being asked for consent been such a turn on. She supposed the older woman had the advantage of experience, she knew what you liked better than you ever could, would… she would always be one step ahead.

"Yes." Agatha chokes out, her back slowly moulding to the wall as the replica steps closer to her, barely an inch each time. "Yes, I could feel you watc—watching me." The older woman leans in to tuck a lock of hair behind Agatha's ear and she hummed softly at the response. The air between them is thick with tension, her gaze falling down to the younger woman's lips, licking her own before returning her gaze to her younger self.

"And is that why you're here sweetness? Because you enjoy me watching you?" She teased leaning, a hand on either side of the brunettes head, her nose running along the a-line of the taller woman's neck. Agatha a faucet, a drowning mess beneath her.

"Yes," Agatha whispers, a small smile reaching her lips as her mind begins to calm down, two could play this game. "All night," she graces, blue eyes flitting down to the copy’s lips, "I couldn't stop thinking about you kissing me." She reaches up, unclamping her clammy fist to stroke a thumb across the older woman's lower lip. "Touching me."

It’s all she could think about really, ever since last semester when they had come across a spell to attract variants. The opportunity to see yourself in every reality, the rest of the class had buzzed with the concept of questioning, learning from their future and past self through every plain of existence. Agatha however, hadn’t been able to shake the feeling, the idea of enjoying herself further. How could anyone satisfy them better than themselves?

The replica whimpered then laughed. Taking a final step, now pressed flush against Agatha , pressing her lightly against the door. She's warm and soft - softer than Agatha would expect with all those lean muscles on down - subconsciously Agatha arched into the touch. The soft silk material of her dress pressing against the exposed skin of her torsos, the older woman's hands run down along the wall, tracing the outline of Agatha 's body behind her.

"What else?" The woman's lips ghost across Agatha 's cheek, her breath like the wind against her heated skin.

"Fucking me." The brunettes breaths leaning in to graze her teeth against the shorter woman's earlobe.

"All you had to do was ask." The replica grins, surging forward, capturing Agatha 's lips with her own. Fused shades of lipstick, saliva, an audition of new touch, noise. A sensation that sets their bodies alight.

Her hands coming up to grasp Agatha 's hips firmly as she pushes her harder against the door. A moan breaks out between them as their hips grind together. Agatha tangles her fingers into the thick straight red hair tugs hard until the old woman grins and licks into her mouth tugging roughly at the flesh of her arse.

The wet glide of the replicas's tongue against hers sends Agatha reeling, and her moan is deliciously filthy as the brunette's hand slides up to cup her breast. Strong fingers knead her roughly through her dress. A strong thigh comes to rest between her legs, black red bottoms pushing her feet aside

She tugs at Agatha 's hair, breaking the kiss with a sharp gasp as she arches her chest against her hand.

"Why'd— Why'd you stop?" Agatha breathed, their lips pulling away with an audibly smack, her chest heaving while the older woman still looked to be with the perfect state of grace. All but her eyes were now clouded, a dark film overcoming her earthy eyes like an ocean storm.

"Open your mouth." The replica states simply the hand in the brunette's hair drawing her head back so that her chin was pointed up.

Agatha complied, still a little confused until the older woman's hand comes to grasp her jaw their lips almost touch before she slowly spits down into her mouth.

The warm liquid hitting her tongue and rolling back down into her throat. Agatha moaned, untamed, grunting at the taste.

"Swallow" The copy whispered her tongue coming out to lick across the brunette lips as she closed them to swallow the other woman's essence, like the sweetest shot she'd ever tasted.

"Please" She croaks, voice rough and desperate, and the variant smirks in the most infuriatingly sexy way as she pulls back to stare at Agatha with hooded eyes.

"Please what, Little one?"

Instead of answering, Agatha pushes the woman back until she has control, or At least the illusion of which, pressing the replicas against the bathroom sink. One hand reaching to tug upon her dress, the other roughly shoving the straps aside to reveal a stiff, aching breast.

The replicas chuckled as she was suddenly engulfed by a warm, wet mouth. Agatha lavished her tongue against her nipple roughly before sucking on it, and she gasps feeling a gush of wetness between her legs. The brunette young and talented fingers teasing the waistband of her panties.

"Oh I knew we’d have fun, baby girl" She laughed, hissing lightly as Agatha’s teeth grazed against her breast. The brunette moaned against her skin as the nickname left her lips. "Humm, you liked that one? Huh? Baby girl?" The replicas hummed, repeating the endearment again.

Agatha pulled back a string of saliva stringing from her bottom lip and the other woman's breath, breathing heavily. Mouth agape, wet and wanting as she nodded hungrily.

"What's my name sweetness?" She asked with her hands raising the grasp on either side of the brunette face roughly, she had a feeling she'd respond to it well. Her thumbs pressing into her cheekbones, palms touching every crevice of her skin, fingers imprinting themselves along her jaw. "Say it and I'll give you everything you want."

The rasp of her voice was more intoxicating to Agatha at that moment than any other substance known to man; if she'd asked her to scream she'd scream, to get on her knees she'd crumble - Agatha Harkness was well and truly incapacitated by her older self.

"Daddy." She whispered, their lips brushing with every syllable, every shuddered breath.

"Good girl." The replicas smirked, kissing her lips quickly, hardly enough to quench either of their thrusts. Even as Agatha had her pressed against the counter in a public restroom she was still quite obviously the dominant one, completely in control of the situation as her hand ran down her torso to pop the top button of Agatha 's tight leather jeans.

"Can you stay quiet for my little one? We wouldn't want anyone to walk in and see just what a good little slut you are now would we?" She mocked, the brunette shaking her head fiercely as the replicas rewarded her with a kiss, her underwear uncomfortably wet. Like this woman, this goddess of a woman, who smelt like pomegranates, leather and tastes like expensive liquor; Agatha doesn't think she's ever tasted anything better.

She breaks away from the kiss for a second, gasping for air as she moves to suck and nip on the replicas' neck. The thought of leaving her possessive mark there, her undeniable claim had her trembling and clenching, and she can't stand being touched for another second.

"No marks baby. Not yet anyway" she smirks, as Agatha bites down at her neck drawing back to admire her work, using a thumb to clean her own face.

The brunette shrugs at her own disobedience, "Hardly anything there; and oh look, seems like I'm not the only one who's wet." Agatha giggles the final word falling from her lips with a thick tut of her teeth.

The replica tightens, her eyes visibly darken, a possessive groan emitting from her throat as her hand slipped into the younger woman's underwear. "Listen here brat." She whispers scowling lightly, "Keep that pretty mouth of yours shut and I'll fuck you so good you won't be about to walk straight, but keep it up with that little attitude and I'll leave you here, like the sopping mess you are understood?"

Agatha whimpers, the ghostly feeling of fingers brush against her clit.

"I said, am I an understood slut?" The woman repeats.

"Yes!" Agatha cries out tears forming at the idea of not being touched, "yes Daddy I'm sorry, I'll be good" is promises kissing the replica’s jaw for good measure, burying her face within the soft and welcoming flesh of her neck as she is finally given what she wants, those slender, elegant fingers finally gliding through her slick folds, parting her and dipping into her wetness.

It was everything she could have ever hoped for and more, there was a distant level of understanding or knowing that circled beneath each variant's skin. Heightened and maddening - how could anyone ever compete?

"God, Baby girl, you're so fucking wet" The older woman groans, tilting her head up to kiss Agatha 's neck as she strokes at her clit. Agatha shudders and bucks against her hand, desperate for more friction. The replicas' fingers slip down to her entrance, dipping just inside to tease her and gather more wetness, before moving back up to rub tight circles against the aching bud. Agatha cries out as sparks of pleasure shoot up her spine, and her knees buckle under her. The replicas steady her easily, pressing her into her body more firmly, her other hand coming up to grasp her thigh and pull it around her hip. The change of angle has Agatha silently crying out biting down on her own hand that grasps against the woman's shoulder, in an attempt to adhere to her orders.

"Would you rather me be gentle with you?" She whispers, taunting. Agatha could picture perfectly the smug look of faux confusion on her.

The brunette shook her head no, vigorously. The older woman chuckling darkly as She leaned forward, lips at her ear once more. Agatha whimpering involuntarily as the lobe of her ear was sucked in briefly. She bit her lip to stop herself from letting out noise at the sensation.

"You're doing so well baby," The other woman cooed, pulling back. Agatha groaning at the loss of warmth, before the hand inside her began to move in earnestly. Her pace was rough, unyielding. She pulled her finger out almost all the way out just to the tips, that circled her entrance before slamming back in, pounding in and out until Agatha lost all ability to form a coherent thought. One of her hands groped at the mystery woman's chest, pinching her nipple hard. She cried out, and Agatha grinned wickedly. She rewarded her lapse in control by moving the hand down her body, treating her clit with the same roughness as she did the rest of her.

The woman moaning throatily against her lips. Heaving Agatha 's thigh further up her hip, grip tight enough to leave bruises. Both women's hands working tirelessly.

"Oh, fuck daddy" Agatha sobs, clenching and fluttering wildly around the long digits, and she can't stop herself from bucking her hips, desperately trying to fuck herself on the talented fingers. The brunette sets a quick pace on her lover's clit, slick sounds filling the room as her hips thrust and the replicas's fingers pump into her swollen cunt, and soon both of them teetering on the edge of coming.

"Hold on baby, I want us to cum together," the replicas gasps, arching as Agatha leans down to take her nipple into her mouth again. She scratches her nails desperately against the brunette's scalp, and Agatha growls and biting down on the aching nipple.

The other woman circling her fingers, the stretch had Agatha 's spine arching and her whole body tensing as the replicas thrust faster and harder into her. When she curls her fingers deep inside her and drags them firmly against her swollen front wall Agatha screams, a desperate cry ripped from her chest. Her own thumb pressing firmly against the other woman's clit.

"Cum for me please" Agatha whispers, practically begging for her release while chasing the own. "Please Daddy" she whimpers bitting down on the other woman's lip until a familiar Natalia taste flooded her mouth.

Their orgasms hit together; a heat spending across their skin that flushed so bright they practically glowed as their bodies pressed together firmly - each woman clutching the other to them tightly. Their chests heaving, a mixture of giggles, moans, whimpers filling the room.

"Well fuck." The older variant flicked her head back from where it rested on Agatha 's shoulder, running a hand through sweaty yet annoying still perfect hair. "You're just full of surprises aren't you little one." She grinned, her tongue running along her teeth and lip cleaning up her own blood that had started to dry there. Then teasingly she removed her fingers and sucked them clean; the simultaneous taste of cum and blood filled her senses. "You taste amazing too, better than I ever dreamed."

Agatha laughed out her chest heaving, forehead pressed against the replica's collarbone. "Well, I aim to please." She winked, suddenly feeling excruciatingly thirsty. Her eyes flicker up to the mirror behind them over the replica's shoulder taking in her frankly destroyed appearance; her own lipstick and the other woman's spread across her face like spilt ink in an old painting. Her mouth was swollen and bitten almost blue; The only comfort being that the older woman looked just as thoroughly fucked too.

Her eyes flickered down to the replicas's forgotten malt drink, picking it up she took an indulgent sip humming slightly as the burn of liquor raced down her throat. The older woman's watched her intensely as the brunette raised the glass and suddenly drew a gasp from between her lips, the cool brown liquid new racing down her chest. The replicas grunted at the sudden burst of frost that hit her heated flesh, Agatha merely smirking before chasing the liquid with her tongue.

"Hmmm" Agatha made a sound of appreciable as she drank from upon the other woman's skin; begging sure to lick the flesh perfectly clean. Before raising her head, blue meeting blue.

"That was my drink." The older woman complains, a faux frown on her features and the younger woman grins.

"Oh, I'm sorry where are my manners?" She smirked raising the glass teasingly to the other woman, "here let's share." She continued pulling the glass back towards herself indulging in the final slip before grasping the back of the other woman's neck - connecting their lips and spilling the contents of her mouth in between her lips. The whiskey, their lips, silva and tongues mixing in a perfect serenade of sex and alcohol poisoning.

"Don't say I never gave you anything" Agatha whispers teasingly kissing the older woman's bruised lips before pulling away slightly. The replicas merely gazed at her in awe, her hand still groping at her hips and arse tightly. Agatha 's thumb swiping gently at the side of her face, to clean up the drizzle of alcohol that ran across her flesh. The brunette takes a moment to truly take the older woman in her blue eyes, flushed skin, her bloodied, bruised and cut lip.

Agatha tutted slightly reaching into the empty whiskey glass beside them to retrieve a piece of ice. Holding it up between them, the replicas cocked her brow in question before the brunette's free hand came to rest beneath her chin tilting up slightly before pressing the cool substance against her sore lip.

The replica hissing at the soothing yet stinging sensation; Agatha smirking slightly as she worked at nursing the other woman's lip with the ice gently, intensely focused on the broken flesh never looking away until satisfied with her work.

The other woman watched her closely, admiring the way the harsh light bounced off her soft auburn hair. The slope of her deep round cheekbones, the indentation of dimples clean upon her skin.

That's when she decided; This couldn't be a one-time thing. She had to see her again.

"There," Agatha stated, running her thumb gently across the broken lip, pulling it down slightly.

"You a nurse or something." The other woman's laugh, grasping the brunette's hand sharply before she could pull it away. Sucking her thumb into her mouth, tongue swirling around it delicately rehashing in the taste of her own dried essence.

"Or something" Agatha shrugged watching as her appendage pulses in between the replicas's lips; before drawing it with an audible pop.

"You think anyone heard us?"

"Oh most definitely, we'll have to work on their volume control little one." The older woman complains smirking, leaning down gently then slipped her own underwear off and into their palm before stand up straight again, a bundle of red lace handing off the index and pointer fingers.

"I'll go pay our tabs. Meet me outside, ten minutes." The replica ordered kissing the brunette quickly before drawing her mouth open with her tongue and stuff the underwear in. "In the meantime to keep that pretty little mouth quiet and busy, look after those for me."

Agatha moaned at the taste of the other woman against her tongue, the Lacey material scratching the roof of her mouth perfectly.

"Understandable baby? Clean up, mouth shut, outside ten minutes." She stated, kissing her forehead gently as Agatha nodded slowly, groaning around the fabric in her mouth. The replicas grinned wildly, pulling away with one final kiss on the younger woman's hair before exiting the bathroom. The image of excellence rather than someone who was just got fucked in a public bathroom.

Agatha watches her leave utterly perplexed at what had just happened, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, legs in steady as she grips the dirty porcelain sink. Her mouth filled with a mysterious woman's expensive underwear, legs slick with her own desire, fingers rained with another. She shivered all the utmost exhilarated at the thought of what could possibly happen next.

[thatbanditqueen]

No One Walks Out Ch 5: Salty Lips

Warnings: Tarot misinformation, penetrative vaginal sex, manipulation, fluff, smut, then angsty tears. 18+ Minors DNI.

Apparently I don't know how to schedule things so I am posting earlier than expected. Please file your complaints accordingly.

Word Count: 9.4 K

Summary: Becky has settled into the rhythm of life at Graceland over the first few days there, though she still has not had a full tour. Luckily, her hosts finally get it together to show her around. She goes to visit her sister, but encounters an unexpected guest. At least for her.

I need to first thank my alpha, @whositmcwhatsit for reading the first draft and giving me feedback as she corrected my grammar. Which is generally bad. Thanks Jade, I some how fooled you into hanging out with me and I would feel guilty for asking you to read my stuff, because it takes you away from your own writing which is necessary and needed for the good of the fandom. But you always make my work better so I cannot feel guilty at all. No, I selfishly will take every glance and glint and comment you give me.

Also thanks to my fellow Elvis sister wives for all their morale support and brilliance. Just being in your orbit is a gift: @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love

If you need to catch up first:

Chapter 4: Kaleidoscope

or start from the beginning: No One Walks Out On Big Daddy Masterlist

Chapter 5: Salty Lips  

11:45 a.m. Thursday, June 19, 1975

Graceland Estate, Memphis, TN

A cardinal twittered loudly, joined by a chickadee, and Becky was so ensconced in the bubble of idyllic life at Graceland that she wondered if this musical rendition wasn’t just for her benefit. Lisa gave an excited hum where she sat next to Becky on top of the picnic table by the pool and slapped down another tarot card.

“Alright, Becky, ‘Page of Swords’, what does this one mean?”

Becky looked closely at the drawing, closing one eye and squinting nearer for effect.

“Well, babt,” Becky mused, trying to stifle a grin and pronounce the girl’s fortune with complete confidence. “They all go together.” She set it next to the other cards they had drawn: Strength, The Chariot and The Moon. Becky was not sure how many cards you were supposed to put down when reading tarot, but four seemed like a good number.

”So?” Lisa slapped her hand on the table.

“Well, so, Page of Swords, as we can see here now, obviously means you are gonna live on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and you’ll have yellow tights, and a pretty pink dress, and a big ol’ sword that you’ll be very good at using,”

“I’m already pretty good with my daddy’s samurai sword, wanna see?”

“Hmmm, maybe later.”

Becky thought of her shooting lesson the other day and decided against more deadly weapons. Getting through the day without letting Lisa kill or be killed would count as a win for bonding with the kid of her new  - lover? fling? friend? - whatever Elvis was to her. She decided to go with fling. A short fling. They were two grown adults having a casual, fun, very short fling. Well, one rock star and one adult. 

Was she even an adult? She had spent most of the last three days playing with a seven year old until the late afternoon, and then playing with Elvis into the night. She felt like she had wandered into a strange, enchanted land where all the adults acted like children and all the children acted like adults. Water fights, target practice, ice cream for breakfast, and impulsive shopping sprees. 

Not having a schedule or others depending on her had been freeing at first, but now, on day four of life at Graceland, Becky had started to feel somewhat unmoored from reality away from the structure of her daily life back home.

She looked down at the table, where Lisa was tapping on the next card, and continued her tarot reading. 

“Ok, see here, Strength, that’s an angel with a lion. Of course, now, that is just symbolic. The angel is your conscience telling you the right thing to do, but you won’t have this moral confidence until you own a lion. They can be very difficult pets, I hear, I recommend getting an ice locker for all the gazelle meat you are going to need to feed it.”

“You’re silly, Becky, no one owns lions as pets.”

“No one yet, but hey baby, according to your fortune, you are gonna change all that. There’s nothing you can do. It’s in the cards. That means it has to happen.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, her lips betraying a smile. “Ok, what else?”

“Well, here, The Chariot, clearly one day you will go to Egypt and meet a prince -”

“And marry him?”

“Well, that depends. On whether you like him or wanna feed him to your lion?” Becky growled and gashed her teeth playfully as if she was going to eat Lisa’s shoulder. Just as Lisa shrieked and hit Becky, the back door slammed and they glanced over to see Elvis’ aunt Delta stagger out.

“Alright, Lisa Marie now, s’getting to be round lunch time. I just got Ma settled out in the rockin’ chair, so it’s time for you to come eat.” Delta looked Becky up and down as she spoke. 

“Whatcha y’all got goin on?” she said, and Becky noticed Lisa stiffen and gather up the cards.

“We’re just playing Old Maid, Aunt Delta.”

Becky raised her eyebrow at Lisa, who just shook her head with a crafty smile. Becky turned to the older woman. Hmmm, I guess these older ladies don’t approve of mystical practices. Or maybe they only let one resident here get away doing whatever he wanted. 

She thought of Elvis’ grandmother, who had turned to her after he had left the dinner table the night before, taken her arm and whispered low:

“I hope ya don’t break his heart, like all the rest. That young boy ova there has been through so much. Don’t know why he canna find a good woman. Guess they just don’t make us like they used ta.” Minnie Mae had then released Becky’s hand and spit part of her chew into the tea cup next to her dinner plate. 

Becky only had a moment to feel uneasy before Elvis swooped back in and pulled her into the den and onto his lap, where he cajoled Lisa to perform “Crocodile Rock” for the group on top of the coffee table. 

No, I reckon these good ole girls who sit around bemoaning the lack of any good women left would probably not go in for tarot cards, Becky thought, as she looked at Elvis’ aunt.

“How are you doing today, Ms. Presley?”

“Hmmm, it’s Biggs. And it’s Mrs. And never you mind, you can save it, I don’t care for you kissing up ta me. I know your kind.” 

Becky tightened her smile at Delta’s grimace, wondering if that was the faint odor of vodka wafting off the older woman. Just then, Delta weaved towards her and gripped a nearby chair to steady herself. Her eyes narrowed at Becky in judgment. 

“You are like all the others, waiting around for your payday. Out for all you can get. Bout as useful as gum on a boot heel. Humph.”

“Oh brother, here we go!” Lisa jumped up and walked past Delta. “C’mon, Becky Butt, let’s go get some chocolate cake.”

Becky smiled even wider at Delta as she followed Lisa, and watched the older woman scan the pool area, before tottering back to the house behind them.

“Chocolate cake? That doesn’t sound like a good lunch.”

“Oh, it’s the best lunch, don’t worry, I told Nancy before she left this morning, so it’s all ready.”

“They - they  let you have that for lunch”

“Let me?” Lisa grinned a devious grin and her eyes sparkled. “I’m the boss round here when Daddy’s asleep. If they ever give me any guff, I just lay down tha law an let ‘em know how it is, jack.”

“Oh? And how is it?”

“Get with the program or git!” Lisa held the door to the kitchen open for Becky, and grabbed the milk out of the fridge.

Sure enough, there in the middle of the counter was a tall, chocolate cake adorned with a circle of pink frosting rosettes. Lisa poured two tall glasses of milk  and carefully set out china plates with all the hospitality of a true, Southern hostess.

“Don’t worry, Becky, it’s vegetarian!” Lisa announced, grabbing the biggest knife Becky had ever seen, almost the length of the short, seven year old’s arm, as she proceeded to carve two large, unwieldy pieces from the beautiful dessert.

*********************************************************************

Becky was certain that her chocolate cake was about to make an encore appearance as the golf cart whipped around the bend. Grabbing the top of the seat, she looked over at Lisa as the little girl pushed her foot harder on the pedal and yelped with glee while she steered them down the grass behind the carport.

“I didn’t realize golf carts could go this fast.” Becky gripped her seat tighter, her knees jostling up and down against the metal bar at the front.

“Oh yeah, these are top o’ the line, Becky. Watch, I can get it to go even fast—” Becky put her hand up in protest.

“Nope, not necessary, this - this is great. Very refreshing in the heat.”

Lisa pushed her feet down a little further and Becky held on for dear life as the air whipped through her dark curls and reminded her very much that she was alive and wanted to keep it that way.

“Ok, so this is the stable,” Lisa pointed to a large white building coming up on their left side. “It’s called House of the Rising Sun, and most people think it's after a song, but actually, it's named after Daddy’s horse, Rising Sun. Though I always say he should be named Setting Sun, on account of the fact that the sun is usually setting before Papa gets up and goes riding.” Lisa slapped her thigh, as if making a rimshot on a drum set, and Becky realized this was her cue to laugh, so she let out a chuckle and rubbed Lisa’s hair.

“Yeah, that is a much better name. Or Sleeping Bear, hmmm?” Lisa giggled. 

“Or Grumpy Sleepy Bear.”

“That one sounds perfect, what do you think? We have time to paint a new sign?”

Lisa laughed as she drove them on, showing Becky the trailer where her daddy’s nurse, Tish lived, and the other where Billy, Jo and their kids lived, and they wound their way around the back of the paddock.

“That’s where Daddy likes to race his horses with the guys.”

“For special occasions? Or just for fun?”

“Oh, he does it to show off for the fans.” 

Becky snorted down a laugh and and attempted to catch her hair and pulled it back up as it escaped into the wind. 

“Um, ha - how do you know he does it for the fans? He tell you that?”

“No, my mama told me; he likes to race the horses round for no good reason, just to show off for the fans cuz he’s a big show off and he’ll never really be a true questrion.”

“Well, I don’t know, I mean your mom may not know —”

“Oh, she does, she knows everything. Daddy’s always saying my mama’s the biggest know-it-all you’ll ever meet. And hippo cat. Why would he call a woman a hippo and a cat?”

“Hmm.” Becky grabbed the side rail as the golf cart swerved back around towards the mansion, trying not to laugh at Lisa’s casual description of her parents. “I bet he meant something else and said it wrong, cuz you’re right, doesn’t make any sense.”

Lisa seemed to agree, nodding her head. And on to the next point of interest, her proud, confident tour guide voice explained that the house butted up to fence over there used to be her granddaddy’s. 

They drove past the throng of fans at the front gate near the bottom of the hill they were coming up and Lisa asked Becky if she needed any money or a new camera. Becky wasn’t sure exactly how this related to the crowd, but she had some suspicions as she looked over her shoulder at the people mulling aroun down at the gate. So, instead, she rubbed the sweat off her forehead and complained about the heat. 

Parking the golf cart back at the side of the house, Lisa led the way back inside, suggesting they cool down in the pool. Becky didn’t have a bathing suit, but jumped in wearing her tee shirt over underwear, letting her feet push off the rough, concrete bottom of the pool. She felt an almost instant sense of relief and rejuvenation as she sprung up weightlessly through the cool water and floated to the top, rubbing the chlorine out of her eyes. This was, of course, a futile exercise, as more chlorine water was in her face almost immediately, followed by the sounds of Lisa laughing from where she was splashing Becky a few feet away.

“Oh, you are gonna get it!”

Lisa’s screams ricocheted through the patio as Becky swam over, grabbed her and threw her playfully back into the water.

They raced each other like this for a bit, and then played catch in the water. Lisa particularly liked trying to aim directly in front of Becky, and shrieked with delight when Becky let the ball hit the water and then dramatically flustered about in the wake of the splash, uttering out a loud, affected:

“Now heyyyyy! That’s not fair!”

After a while, Mary brought them out some lemonade, and ham and cheese sandwiches, and they dangled their feet in the side of the pool, eating. Becky pulled the ham out of her sandwich, and Lisa opened her mouth, motioning for Becky to drop the cold cut in, chuckling.

“Hmmm, we make a good pair, huh?” 

Lisa nodded, speaking with a full mouth:

“Mmmm choww nuhff.” She swallowed, and took a sip of lemonade. “How’d you get to be such a good swimmer? You don’ all kinds of fancy moves out there, I never seen anyone swim sideways like that or stay underwater so long.”

“I was on my high school swim team. Then I used to lead canoe trips down the Cahaba, that’s the big river where I’m from, over in Birmingham.” She ruffled Lisa’s hair. “And I was a camp counselor for a while in Mississippi, we spent most of our summer in the pool. I reckon I was a fish in my past life, that’s what Helga used to say.

“Your nanny?”

“MMhmm. You have a good memory, kid, I can tell. You’re whip smart.”

Lisa giggled and splashed Becky with her foot. Water was violently flying up in the air as they commenced in an epic foot splash fight when a loud, deep ‘Ahem’ made their feet still. Lisa’s lips were pursed, emitting a nervous laugh and Becky met her eyes with frightened giddy trepidation as they turned in unison to see the tall, broad silhouette of Elvis behind them. Becky coughed nervously.

His thumbs hung down from the belt at his white trousers and he tilted his sunglasses down to look over them, adjusting his stance.

“MMMM what's - a -a - ahappenin’ ova round these parts, mhmmm?” Elvis tried unsuccessfully to keep his lip from quirking into a smile as his voice boomed out comically deep.

Lisa giggled, and pointed. “Becky started it!”

Gaping, Becky pushed her into the pool with a whispered, “Thanks a lot, Lisa Marie Benedict Arnold Presley!” Then jumped up to say hi to Elvis.

His face beamed with a grin but then, as she got closer, his lip tightened and his chin tilted out as he took in her swimsuit.

“Becky, what the hell are ya wearin’, girl?”

Becky pulled her shirt down, and Elvis went to grab her hands to stop her, as it just made her nipples more pronounced through the thin, wet fabric.

“Elvis, I don’t have a bathing suit, I didn’t think it was that big of a differe—”

“Honey, I can see your hair through your panties,” he whispered gruffly, wrapping Becky in the thick, white, suede jacket he’d been wearing. As part of his outfit. Outside. In June. In Memphis. Becky rolled her shoulders, trying to shirk it off, looking into his eyes imploringly.

“Elvis, I’m all wet, it will ruin this suede and get it all dirty. It’s so humid, too, I just th—”

“Becky, don’t worry about the jacket.” He pulled her in, unable to resist flicking her over her nipple imself as he scolded her to cover up. “Anyone could see you out here.”

“Baby, no one is out here.”

“But they could be, boy, they could be.. ‘Sides, think now what if a band of drugged-out commie burglars jumped the back fence, and I, I had to send you running to safety at that motel across the street? You don’t wanna be waiting for me and the boys and the police in public like this.” He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Elvis, that’s ridiculous - what is the likelihood tha—”

“Now, c’mon on, you never know, it’s getting rougher every day out there. These are the things ya gotta consider.”

Becky was about to argue with him further, that he was being paranoid, and where did he even come up with this stuff, commie drug dealer burglars? She thought of Elvis doing some of the karate moves he had taught her as a band of crazy-eyed youths scaled the back wall, and almost giggled. However, she was suddenly distracted by the fingers tracing over her hips, underneath the suede jacket, and she shivered as she felt goosebumps rise up on the back of her neck, still chilled from the water. Elvis leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes with a low gasp, feeling his belly press into hers.

“Good thing you got me around to think of every angle.” Elvis clicked his tongue and point to his head. ”Go on upstairs and get cleaned up, wanna give you a tour of Graceland.” He patted Becky on the butt as he turned her to the house.

Shuffling forward in the comfort of her new mobile suede sauna, Becky heard Lisa pull out of the water and ask her dad if they could have a bonfire tonight with hot dogs and baked potatoes and corn and s’mores and coconut cake and ice cream.

“Course, baby, jus let Mary and Charlie know how you want it.” 

Becky opened the door at the side of the house, she looked back to see Elvis kneeling and smiling as he wrapped Lisa in a towel. 

“You’re the boss, booger, I jus’ work here.”

Becky could feel the brightness radiating from Lisa’s broad smile as she went inside, and she shook her head as she mused to herself how sweet they were together. The way Elvis spoiled his daughter was charming when Becky pushed aside her own parenting philosophy, which she had always considered to be overly permissive until spending this last week at Graceland. 

She frowned at the prospect of having to parent with someone like him, and felt a sharp pang of sympathy for Priscilla, a woman whom Becky had always regarded as a bit of a cold Yankee. As if you could ever know what someone is like from reading gossip magazines, silly girl. 

Getting dressed, Becky chided herself for not telling Elvis about her earlier tour of the estate. It was just that he had looked so intent as he told her what they were doing, and the sound of his voice gently commanding her made her agree with whatever he said, take whatever he offered, do whatever he wanted to do. 

Yeah, a long term relationship with this man is trouble. Becky reflected on how relieved she had been when Lisa didn’t wake up and come get her until 10:30 that morning, instead of 8 a.m., like she had the first day, and felt a bit disgusted with herself. Ugh, Elvis’  lifestyle is warping your judgment. Sleep all day, play all night, and now I have to go pretend that I haven’t already seen the grounds of Graceland.

*********************************************************************

The dirt shifted under Becky’s Keds as she walked beside Elvis towards the stables, holding his hand as he squeezed it tightly and turned to look at her, eyes soft and bright as he spoke. Becky summoned a look of awe as if seeing the building for the first time.

“Right, now this is the House of the Rising Sun, on account of my horse, Rising Sun. Though I reckon I shoulda named him Setting Sun, because, ya know, that’s usually when I’m getting up.” Elvis looked at Becky expectantly, and she forced a giggle, leaning into him as they walked into the building.

The sound of horses’ snorting and whinnying greeted them, and Becky followed Elvis as he grabbed a handful of sugar cubes from the front counter and leaned against the white gate of the first stall, waggling his eyebrows at Becky as she cautiously stepped forward. He took her hand, unrolling her fingers and putting a piece of sugar in the middle, then clicking his tongue as the large palomino nuzzled into him, nickering and searching for treats.

“Now, go on, he won’t bite ya - much.” Elvis smirked, watching as Becky rolled her lips in and put out her hand, shrieking at the tickle of the horse’s chin hairs on her hand.

“Is this one yours?”

“MMhmmm, this is Rising Sun,” Elvis told her, turning to ruffle the blonde tuft of hair between the golden horse’s ears.

Becky cautiously stroked the white blaze down the middle of his face, stopping to rub his muzzle as he sniffed her hand for more sugar. She looked into Rising Sun’s large brown eyes, wondering how such a majestic creature could be tamed, and how quickly he would trample over her for more sugar.

“He’s beautiful. And terrifying.” She said, then looked up at Elvis. “Just like you, I suppose.”

Elvis’ fingers caressed over Becky’s dress, stopping at the small of her back to rub into her tenderly. 

“Oh now, don’t tell me ya afraid of me, now honey. Or these horsies, are ya Becky Butt?” He moved behind her, his hand trailing slowly over her arm, down from her shoulder, until it was over the back of her palm. He slowly guided her palm up to smooth over the side of Rising Sun’s face and cheek, leaning into whisper into her neck. “See, now, now, see? He’s a good boy, gentle and well trained as can be. Ain’t got nothin ta fear from hims.” 

Elvis kisses warmed her skin, and Becky shuddered as his lips crushed into her. Moaning, she dropped her hand and turned into him, biting her lip in anticipation as Elvis rolled back on his feet and then forward, pressing her into the white pole that separated the stalls. Rising Sun grunted at them and blew his nose, and Becky squealed at the feeling of his large, gummy mouth chewing at her hair. Elvis' mouth quirked into a smile, but his hand rubbed her side more intently, and a fierce, starved look animated his eyes.  

“Get now, silly horse, that ain’t hay.” He gently pushed Rising Sun away, and pulled Becky into him, gripping her tightly.

A tingle burned in Becky’s belly and she breathed out in hushed desire.

“Huh. How - how does my hair look?”

“Looks a a a, a whole lot better than it's gonna once I’m through wit ya.” Elvis said softly, through a high breathy giggle. Then he looked down, bashfully, his hand rubbing Becky’s waist up and down then pinching her on both sides. Becky giggled, pulling herself into his frame, her hand working up over his chest as she kissed his jaw. 

“Why, Elvis Presley, I declare, are you - are you trying to seduce me? In the barn?”

He shook his head, a goofy expression pushed his lips into a pout.

“Depends.”

Becky arched her eyebrow, her fingers toyed with the high blue collar of Elvis’ shirt. “Mmmmmm? Depends on what?”

Elvis withdrew, blushing, his jaw tightening, suddenly changing his mind from whatever he had been thinking about doing,  “Neva mind, baby. Here, let me introduce ya to the other horses.”

Becky followed him, brushing her hand over the top of his belt and sweeping along his back. 

“Ok darlin’, you’re the boss.” Pushing her hand around him, Becky leaned into Elvis, and he drew her tighter into his side, looking ahead to give a large, black horse a sugar cube.

“This here, now, this boy is special, this is Ebony’s Double, come from a real champion stud, Ebony Masterpiece.”

Becky put her hand up to the horse’s neck, feeling his muscles ripple under his silky black coat as she rolled her hand over him. Breathing in, her eyes locked with Elvis as she caught him looking down at her, and she thought about reaching up on her tiptoes to try and kiss him, but instead kissed his shoulder. It was easier, and she relished the way he squeezed her into him in response. His bottom lip dropped down with his chin, and his voice came out in a raspy croak.

“Hey there, lil’ girl.”

Becky nuzzled in, and shifted the rubber soles of her shoes to pivot and bring her closer into Elvis' chest.

“Hey,” she whispered into his armpit.

Elvis brought her chin up and leaned down, his hand moving to cradle her neck as she curled her fingers into his shirt. Gentle kisses became more fervent as his hands crept lower until they cupped her bottom and Elvis was holding Becky up. Notched above his tummy, Becky’s knees bumped up awkwardly against his elbows, and Elvis chuckled as he carried her towards the back of the barn, almost dropping her with a mild stumble. That would have been the end of the white suede suit. But he quickly recovered, grunting as he jostled Becky up and smiling at the sound of her breathy chuckles as she held onto his shoulders while they staggered to the back of the barn. Becky could hear the sound of horse’s hooves, grunts and neighs, but they were peripheral to the sound of the heartbeat pulsing through her ears.

Becky felt the edge of the workbench where Elvis placed her atop. They were at the back of the stables, next to a saddle presumably left for repair. Beckys legs hitched on either side of Elvis' body, and she dragged her thumb over his cheek, moaning out as his lips found that spot on her neck once more and his hands moved under her skirt, slowly, carefully, tugging on her underwear.

“Hey,” she murmured. Elvis cheeks reddened above a smirk as his dark blue eyes looked down at the ground.

“Hey,” he breathed out in a deep voice.

Becky fell back on the table, resting on her wrists.

“Hey.” she waggled her eyebrows and dangled her legs, then tightened them at his side.

He shook his head, unbuttoning his trousers and moving over her, his lips feathering above her as he whispered: “Heyyyyyyy.”

Becky gasped as she felt him thrust slowly upwards into her, moaning out into his mouth. 

“Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

She wrapped her legs around him, rocking her hips to meet him in the slow, gentle cadence of their love making. His eyes narrowed on hers as his movements became more deliberate, and his thumb found the slick over her clitoris, swirling in time to their needy rolls back and forth over the workbench. Heat coiled in her belly, and Becky leaned back as a guttural cry escaped her mouth.“Heeyyyyyy fucking ohmygod heyyyyyyYYYYYY GODDAMMMIT” as her climax overtook her.  

Elvis leaned forward, peppering kisses over her collarbone and burying his head in her bosom where he continued to slow move in and out of her until he came with a vehement grunt and remained there, head in her chest, panting through the final thrusts before stilling completely. 

Becky relished the weight of his body pressing down on her, insistent, immediate, she wanted it to crush her forever. His shaggy swath of black hair moved as Elvis’ chin protruded forward, and she met his blue eyes, looking up at her from his smug, boyish expression. She melted in the radiance of his smile. “Hey.” Elvis blushed, again, then grunted as he pulled himself up and grinned at Becky’s playfully shove.

“Hey is for horses, Presley,” she gasped, and he laughed as he zipped up, bending down to restore her panties to their rightful place.

She wondered if she had made the wrong first impression on the horses, as they ambled out of the stable and back toward the house.

“Hmmm, so that was the tour huh?”

“I think that’s all the tour I can manage right now, lil girl.”

“OK, well, Lisa already showed me the smokehouse, and I’m definitely not having sex in there.”

“Hmmm, well, figured you should know by now, telling me something isn’t gonna happen just about guarantees I havta try.” He slapped her bottom  and she shoved him away, only to have his arm instantly around her, drawing her into the warmth of his body as he kissed her head.

“Just so you know, Becky, I did not intend to get busy back there.”

Becky nestled into his shoulder as they walked. She could still hear the sounds of twenty horses behind them if she focused, joined by the sound of crickets and cars on the far off roads buzzing into the twilight of early evening. Above it all, she could feel the grain of Elvis' voice as it rumbling into her ear, heating the side of her neck with each word.

“I, I  - I just, well, suddenly couldn’t help myself. Don’t feel that way very often, honey, I think - ” He stopped talking abruptly and turned Becky in to face him.

“Honey, now stop walking already, I’m tryin’ to tell ya something.”

As he looked at her, he noticed that her hair really had come half out of the up twist she had styled it in that evening, and he paused to take out her hair pins, freeing her curls and arranging them over her shoulders.

“There, better.” He nodded with satisfaction. “What was I sayin’? Oh yeah. OK. Here it is. I think I’m starting to really fall for ya, baby. I think, well, I think you should move up here. Can’t bear ta think about taking you back to Jackson next week.”

“This week,” Becky muttered, crossing her arms. “Sunday.”

Suddenly the buzzing, post-coital glow disintegrated and she stood still trying to process what he had said.

He took her shoulders in his hands. “Think about it. Didn’t you say you have a sister here in Memphis?”

Becky nodded, her mind still swimming, wondering if there was any way in hell she could, would, should pursue this. Looking up into Elvis’ eyes was like diving into a sea of endless optimism where everything was possible.

“Hey, I got a business meeting I gotta handle tomorrow night, maybe you could go visit your sister? I was thinking you probably would want to while you're up here anyway. And you can think things over. How it would be, if I got you a place up here, come live with your lil girl in Memphis?”

Becky stood there, nodding again, looking back down at the house. Elvis started to walk.

“Don’t just stand there woman, get in here. The most handsome man in the world just asked if you’d be his baby, least you can do is give him some sugar and say thank you.”

Becky leaned back into Elvis' open arm and kissed his chest. “Hmmm, just took me by surprise is all. I, um, I need to think about it, that’s a big deal, Elvis, I , well, I feel strongly about you too.”

She tickled his side as they walked, and he jerked back with a, *Hey, now.*

“You’re right, though, I should try and see my sister. Tomorrow night, I guess.”

*********************************************************************

6:15 p.m. Friday, June 20th 1975

Still at Graceland, for now…

It was one of the new dresses Elvis had bought her that week, a purple, jersey halter dress, that Becky pulled over her head, before asking Lisa to help clasp the simple, diamond drop necklace around the back of her neck. Lisa jumped back, and put out her wrists for a spray of perfume as Becky doused herself and twirled around.

“How do I look?” Lisa put her hand to her chin, thinking carefully. 

“I think you need more eye make-up.”

“Ha, maybe, but trust me, my sister is the opposite of glamorous. She’s a judge. And I’m crashing a dinner party, so I think modest, simple, less-is-more sort of look is what I want.”

“Well,” Lisa sighed, ”you definitely nailed the less part. You’re hardly wearing any diamonds. Sure you don’t wanna borrow some of mine?”

Becky fidgeted with the ring she was wearing, the gift Elvis had given her that first night at Graceland. It was almost too large and gaudy for her style, let alone her sister Deborah’s taste. But it had come to be a comforting talisman, something she felt and twisted when she felt nervous or out of her element here with Elvis, doing whatever she thought she was doing. *Acting like an immature teenager who just discovered what sex is*, she thought to herself. 

Becky also sensed Elvis would be hurt if he saw her without the ring, because he’d mentioned how nice it looked on her several times, usually taking her hand and kissing the ring there before turning her palm and kissing the center of her hand. And pulling her in for a kiss. *Ughhh, these kisses*. Even the way his dry lips bumped over hers at first touch caused a burning electricity to electrify her face and she became instantly incapable of reason. 

Becky sighed, she had this impending sense of doom, her inner Cassandra, as Ida would say, always on high alert to call out trouble at the slightest provocation. Just trust him. This is fun. This feels right. Everything is ok. Wear the damn ring to Debbie’s dinner party.

Becky’s dress swished around her legs as she carefully walked down the staircase, trying not to trip in the orange platform heels Elvis had picked out at the boutique during a late night shopping spree on Wednesday. As she descended, she saw him whispering with Charlie, then the two men heard her and turned around, smiling in an eerie unison. Elvis was somewhat dressed up for his business meeting, in a dark red suit with a light blue dress shirt with a high, starched collar framing his face.

“There she is, Charlie. There’s the most beautiful gal in the world. And the smartest. And the funniest.”

Becky teetered on her platforms as she put her foot down another step.

“And the most graceful woman in the world.” He let out a low guffaw with out, and Becky narrowed her eyes at him

“Oh, keep laughing, Elvis Aaron Presley, I’mma get you for that. Buying me mile-high shoes an then laughing at how I walk in theses unnatural torture devices!”

Becky ran down the rest of the stairs and leapt onto his waist, ruffling his hair as Elvis chuckled.

“God, crazy woman, tryin’ ta kill me?” Becky kissed his forehead as he jostled her up and down, then placing her safely on the ground.

“Mhmmm. Just wanted to give you a kiss for good luck with your business dinner.”

Elvis kissed her back on the cheek as he ushered her and Charlie out of the door with a swat to the butt and a “See ya later, sweetheart.”

Charlie’s white Pontiac was waiting in front for them and they walked around, Charlie leading to open her door. Just as Becky was about to duck into the passenger seat, she saw the long, black snout of Elvis’ Stutz Blackhawk rolling up the driveway, Jerry at the steering wheel. Next to him sat the thin, blonde frame of Linda Thompson outlined against the dark, red leather interior. Jerry was a statue, stoic and serious as he pulled up and Linda burst out of the car to stride over.

“Charlie Hodge, you handsome man, where you runnin’ off to this evening? And who’s your friend?”

Charlie let out a shrill, high-pitched laugh, wondering to himself how Jerry had managed to arrive twenty minutes earlier than he had been told. Becky smiled awkwardly as she watched Linda give Charlie an air kiss on each side of his face, and then turned to Becky and her tight, wide forced cheerful smile.

Charlie stammered quickly, “Ugh, Linda, this is my cousin Becky, from Birmingham, come up to visit while her kid is at summer camp. I, ugh, well I -”

“He promised me I’d get to meet Elvis while I was here,” Becky gushed, summoning all of her energy to force her tongue to sound excited. She watched Jerry get out of the car and walk to join them. His lips were pursed, and his shoulders were stiff.

“Oh, well, it just dills my pickle to meet Charlie’s family, I feel like we’re practically family ourselves, seein’ how much time I spend with this good ole boy.”

Becky tried very hard not to tense up as Linda threw her arms around her to squeeze her tight. Linda wore a red, satin evening gown with cutouts along the side that emphasized her the curves of her sveltetorso and the wide hips below. Becky felt as though her tall, awkward fleshy figure and bust overwhelmed Linda’s body completely.

“Gosh, I just love that dress,” Linda exclaimed, adjusting the layers of Becky’s hair off her shoulder. “Though I don’t know if I could pull that color off, mhmmm, don’t know if that would be my choice, but it's so you, isn’t it?”

Becky smiled. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”

“So, Charlie, the old boy been behaving?” Linda winked at Becky, then whispered conspiratorially. “You know, Elvis is a good, Christian man, s’just that the devil is mighty powerful, hmmm, know what I mean?”

“MMMhmmmm.”

Becky nodded. It was like she was back in high school and one of the popular girls had waltzed up to her desk at the school newspaper, indirectly ordering her to do a story about the committee decorating the homecoming game bleachers. Ughhh.  Becky steeled herself, falling back on the niceties that she was well versed in.

“I can’t even imagine! Gosh, it’s so exciting to meet you, I’ve seen your pictures in the paper and, of course, Charlie has told us about you. But you are just more precious in person, you really are.”

Linda gave Becky another hug. “Well bless your heart, Becky. Aren’t *you* the sweetest.”

Jerry coughed. “Hm, yeah, we better get going.”

Linda shrugged her shoulders. “Ugh, I know, we got this Police Charity Dinner to go to, I flew in from LA just for this. I guess the Lord saw fit for me to make it. And meet you! I hope I get to see you again while you are visiting, are you staying here? With Charlie?”

“Oh God no.”—“No she aint!”

Charlie and Becky both answered together. Becky smiled big again, hugging Linda one more time. From the big, wide-eyed puppy dog look on her face, Becky felt she seemed to expect it. “No, no, I’m staying with my sis - sorority sister from college, who lives here, we’re actually just heading there now, for dinner. In fact, we better scoot, eh cuz?” Becky looked at Charlie, and sat into the car.

Charlie closed the door, a big  smile at Linda as Jerry led her up the steps into the house, and Linda waved goodbye. “I hope y’all have a the best night, see you again real soon!”

A tense feeling pushed up from Becky’s tummy and seized her shoulders in a tight anxious grip. It was one thing to know you were spending the week with a man who was seeing several women at once. It was another thing to come face to face with one and have to lie about who you were and what you were doing. Becky felt dirty, dirty and sick. She didn’t know how she could possibly face her perfect fucking sister, Deborah, and Debbie’s husband Steve, another lawyer, and the various lawyer professional type guests she expected to be at this dinner party. Charlie patted her thigh, seeming to intuit her thoughts, at least in part.

“Ya know, he’s not a bad guy, the boss man. He carries a heavy burden. And Linda’s moved out to LA to try and break into the movie biz. She had him buy her a home here in Memphis. It’s like they both know it’s over but neither one can bear to pull the trigger. And she knew how it was to date someone like him.”

Becky nodded, telling herself not to cry, and leaned against the window, hitting her head on the cool glass a few times as she swore under her breath at how stupid she was to be here. She muttered to herself in yiddish: 

“Ugh, whenever you have choices, oy vey, my sheyna maidel, boy oh boy do you somehow always manage to pick the worst. Your picker is broken, that’s what it is. When you go home, you are turning your love life over to Ida and her yenta brigade. There is a reason they used matchmakers in the old country. People are incapable of making good choices in men when left to their own devices. Stupid, foolish, idiot girl!” She hit her head on the window one last time, and then realized they had pulled up in front of Debbie’s house.

Charlie rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll be out here waiting when you’re ready. I - he - I - he’s gonna be dropping Linda off at the other house. It was, it is, all part of the plan. You see, her brother’s in the police force here. It, ugh, it just made sense that she would be his date for this big charity ball fundraiser for the cops.”

Becky nodded, half in a daze, trying to mentally prepare for her sister, for the dinner party, and for Elvis later.

“Hmmm, yeah, no, totally makes sense, absolutely.” She breathed in, then looked over at Charlie’s apologetic face. “Wait, you’re just gonna wait here?”

“Yeah, the boss, he, well, he wanted me to look after you. On account of all the druggies running wild these days.” Becky nodded. 

“Right. The drugged out commie burglars, those are clearly the biggest threat to my livelihood right now. Not Elvis Presley and his selfish manipulative ways. Not his powerful girlfriend, or her cop brother. Not my family and their judgment. No, no no, it’s the invisible commie drug criminals supposedly lurking everywhere. Well, thank god you’re here Charlie, I feel so much safer.” 

She slammed the car door, knowing it was unfair to take it out on Charlie, but the look on his face when she bent to the window made her heart sink even further before she uttered one word of apology. Because his goofy, winsome smile told her she was not the first woman to yell at him like this. Not only did he seem to expect it, he had mentally braced himself for it. Becky’s face softened apologetically. 

“I’m sorry, for that. I’ll try not to be more than an hour.”

“S’ok, we’re family now, cuz.” 

Becky knew that Charlie’s smile was meant to be reassuring, but it made her stomach drop even more as she turned and braced herself for a night at the Hoffman - Blumfeld’s (very intentionally hyphenated modern family of the 1970s) Dinner Party.

*********************************************************************

To say the night was uncomfortable and embarrassing would have been generous. Everyone else at the dinner party was dressed in jeans, khakis or linen pants and some sort of comfortable blouse or semi-casual shirt, and Becky felt she stood out like a Vegas showgirl at a library full of nerds. Which was probably the best way to describe Debbie, her husband Steve and their social circle. She was grateful it had been Debbie who opened the front door, so she could walk Becky into the side room and they could make their flustered hellos alone. 

Debbie wore a pair of sensible khakis and a tasteful floral button up top tucked in. As predicted, Debbie wore no make-up. And all judgment, though she tried to repress and be loose and fun.

Six years older than Becky, Debbie had always been half friend/half-parent to her, and this was a characteristic she inhabited calling out “Rebecca, please come in!” when she greeted Becky at the door.

Thank god for wine, the Hoffman-Blumfeld intentionally hyphenated household had some very good bottles of wine on offer and, after sipping one glass gracefully, and the another quickly in the kitchen, Becky was able to exhale and confront the evening with a blundering fort of confidence. She decided to pretend the meeting with Linda never happened, and stumbled confidently through her description of her relationship. She was dating a man who worked in the music business, after meeting him with Danny at a radio event fundraiser for the tornado in Mississippi. Was it serious? Well, sort of, he had invited her to Memphis for the week to meet his daughter, and he was trying to persuade her to move there. But her very successful life managing Saul and Ida’s store, and all her f.’

riends, made her reluctant to leave Jackson.

“I’m just taking a day at a time.” Becky winked and sipped her wine, before taking another mouthful of salmon.

After dessert, Debbie cornered her in the kitchen and asked if they could talk somewhere. Putting up her finger while she poured another glass of wine, Becky nodded and followed Deb to a bedroom, where she sat on a tasteful quilt blanket and had a tasteful restrained conversation about the impossibility of letting her father see Ruth secretly the next time she was in Birmingham.

“She is his only grandchild, Becks.”

“Well, they should have thought about that possibility when they kicked me out. Three months pregnant. Pronounced me a shonda, and disowned me.”

“Do you really want to have Ruth grow up without her grandparents?”

“I didn’t make that decision, Debbie, they did. Maybe, maybe, maybe if Papa was willing to admit how wrong they were, and stand up to Mama, and if he had any backbone at all and publicly welcomed me home for everyone to see, for Ruth to experience a true family, maybe.”

Debbie responded with a knowing look. “Well, I told Papa I was gonna see you when he called earlier, and I promised to ask, but I don’t blame you. I wish Ruth was here now, it’s been too long. And this guy, hmmm? Sounds promising. He wants you to move here?” Becky gulped her wine down first, rubbing her sister's arm. 

“Yup, yes, mhmmm. Oh yeah, finally, right? Everything’s coming up Becky. I can’t wait for you to meet him, because I’ll definitely be back up here with Ruth after she finishes camp. Ah, yes, mmhmmm.” She downed the last sip of wine, smiling so enthusiastically she almost laughed at how absurd the charade was. “I feel like, ugh, finally, right? I’m finally getting that happiness I searched for, for so long. ”

*********************************************************************

“You are never going to find happiness.” Becky said to the fork of coconut cake as she brought it to her mouth, letting the sweet, sticky crunchy sugar do its work comforting her momentarily as she chewed it and swallowed it down with some chocolate milk. The door to the kitchen opened, and she jerked her head up to see little Lisa Marie poke her head around.

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, late night cake?” Becky answered.

“Have you been crying?” Lisa asked as she stepped closer, getting herself a plate and a piece of cake.

“No, honey, no, it’s just been a long day.”

“Is it cuz of my daddy?”

Becky shook her head, too vigorously perhaps. “Npoooo no nononoo. No. It’s just been a long day.”

“You’re a bad liar, Becky Butt,” Lisa said, taking a big bite of cake, and then rubbing Becky’s shoulder. It broke her heart to see Lisa’s genuine look of pity staring up at her as she tried to comfort Becky. “Why is he like this? Mommy says he ruins every relationship and he’ll never truly be happy.”

Becky laughed at Lisa’s matter-of-fact statement. “Oh, my dear, I think your mama is very wise, but who knows what the future will bring. I do know your daddy loves you, that’s a relationship that makes him happy. Trust me, my parents never openly showed me love the way I see him show you. He’s a good man. There are just some things I might do differently if I were him.”

Lisa looked up at her. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters, I’d carry around less guns, I guess, that's dangerous. And maybe wear less jewelry, probably out there blinding people with all those dazzling gems and diamonds all over his person.”

Lisa laughed out loud as she finished her cake, and let Becky walk her up the stairs where she tucked Lisa back into bed and then returned to the kitchen.

Becky was down on her knees, looking through the drawers under the phone when she heard the door behind her slam shut. Glancing up, she saw Elvis’ broad figure swagger slowly toward her in the dimness of the kitchen lit only by one of the lights under a cabinet. He sighed and stopped, hands bracing the front of his hips, spread out fully extending his fingers as they tapped a little ditty over the sides of his belly. 

With his jacket pushed back at the hips, he looked even wider and more intimidating than usual. His lips were pursed in a frown at the sight of Becky in the jeans, converse and Destin tee shirt she had been wearing when she left Jackson the previous Sunday.

“Huh, hey.”

Becky turned back to look up at him. “Oh, hey!”

He adjusted his stance, pivoting his feet and twitching his left knee, his thumbs tapping over his belt.

“Watcha doin’?”

“You don’t know where the yellow pages are, do you? I’ve been looking for a phone book for the last fifteen minutes.”

Elvis sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. “Why, uh, why ya looking for the phone book?”

“Well, maybe you can help me.”

Becky returned her attention to the kitchen drawers in front of her, trying not to flinch as she heard the thud of Elvis boots walk closer and stop directly behind her. She chose not to twist back around and look at him, afraid she might cry or be dramatic, so she decided to speak directly into the drawers as she continued to look through them.

“You see, I’m trying to find a number for a local cab company, so I can get to the Greyhound station.”

“Mhmmm. I noticed your bag in the foyer.”

“Oh yeah, that,” Becky sighed, shutting one drawer and then opening another. “Well, you see, it just dills my pickle to be all prepared and ready to go when I call up a car to come get me. Although I had rather hoped I would have been gone before you got back, I didn’t want to bother you. But, since you’re here, maybe you can make yourself useful and help find the phone book?”

Elvis bent and leaned over the island that jutted out of the counter at the front of the kitchen.

“Honey, I have absolutely no intention a helpin’ you find a phone book.”

Becky stopped and fell back against the cupboard next to the set of drawers, her legs stretching out over the dark, burgundy carpet that covered the kitchen.She banged her hand back and closed her eyes.

“Why? Why can’t you just give me the phonebook?”

Elvis walked over and stood above Becky, his hand reaching down. “Cuz I don’t want you ta leave, honey. Not like this. C’mon, let’s talk. If you still wanna go home, why, I’ll drive you back to Jackson myself, like I promised.”

Becky glared up at his hand. “No.”

“What, you just gonna stay there on the ground?”

“Mhmmm.” She crossed her legs and her arms and tilted back into the cabinet. “Yup, yessiree. This is my home now, til I get a cab, I reckon.”

Elvis meandered over slowly and groaned as he lowered himself next to her on the floor. He moved his hand out to touch hers, only to be rebuked by their swift retreat back under her breasts in a huff of crossed arms and limbs. He rolled his neck to meet her gaze against the wooden cabinet.

“Honey, you are actin’ like a child. This is all one big misunderstanding. Now, c’mon.”

Elvis put his hand over her thigh, but Becky swatted it away, so he grabbed the foot she had criss crossed over her knee, and rolled into her shoulder as he scooted closer, squeezing her foot.

“Becky, look, you know I have other friends —”

“Girl friends, yes, I know about them, but apparently they don’t know about me. Do you have any idea how horrible that felt? Lying, looking at your beautiful beauty queen girlfriend, pretending to be Charlie’s cousin?” She pressed her face against the cupboard and let the tears come pouring out. “Ugh, I am so stupid, I know this isn’t me. I am not cut out to be the other woman.”

“Sssshhh.” Elvis put his arm around Becky’s shoulder, massaging her as he drew her body into his, bringing her head to nuzzle in his chest, where she gave up and grasped his shirt, letting the sobs come out as she cried into him. “Sshhhh. S’ok, s’ok.”

“No, s’not ok, ugh, I’m a horrible person, a traitor to my sex.” Her fist bumped tepidly into Elvis’ chest. She looked up at his chuckles. “What, why are you laughing at me?”

“Baby, you are too pretty to cry. Now, come on. Linda is not my wife, she knows it, I know it, things haven’t been going well and our relationship has been sorta peeterin’ out. But I have to do things my own way, ok? Her brother is on the police force, it made sense, right now, for me to take her as my date. But I swear, nothing happened. I’m here with you. At my house. Would I have a mistress at my house, where I lived, if I was keeping her a secret?”

Becky wiped her eyes. “You think she knows about me? She knew when she met me?”

Elvis sucked in his breath. “Honey, I don’t know, and frankly, right now I don’t care who knows. I-I, I didn’t wanna get into it tonight. But Linda knows well enough how it is with me. Look, I want to be with you, here, now. So let’s be together, and let’s go to bed.”

He said this with finality, and stood up, groaning slightly and steadying himself against the sink,  and Becky followed, exhaling loudly as she pulled herself up on his outstretched hand and walked with him out of the kitchen, still sniffling and wiping her eyes into his silk dress shirt.

“Ok, but only because the floor was starting to feel uncomfortable. And I couldn’t find the phone book.”

Elvis smiled and Becky watched his cheeks twitch above the pout of his mouth, and she couldn���t help it, she led herself into his embrace.

“There now, lil girl, why you go get yourself all worked up like that?”

Becky looked down, blushing trying to just calm herself and feel good about making peace, or whatever it was she was doing. Giving in. No, you are having fun, she told herself. It’s silly to be upset over Linda, and was the use of fighting? This is a short, fun, little fling. Somehow his logic made sense at the same time that it made no sense at all. Becky’s head ached trying to sort it out, she decided that she was tired and exhausted and still a little tipsy, and needed to stop fighting and let herself fall forward into Elvis’ pliant, warm belly. He took a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit and wiped her eyes, then softly pressed his lips to Becky’s mouth.

 “Mmmm, baby, those are some salty lips.” 

Elvis lifted his hand, thumbing over her lower lip slowly, it made Becky gasp and she watched him respond with a smirk. He leaned in slowly, and Becky shivered when he breathed on her, watching with anticipation as he  licked his own lip and hesitated with a wider smirk before pressing his mouth into hers. More forcefully this time, his hands soothing up her sides. 

“S’alright now, s’alright, no more cryin, ok, lil girl? Too pretty ta cry like this. Goin’ on and making my favorite lips all salty. "

taglist:

@woundmetender @powerofelvis @tacozebra051 @butlervol6 @ab4eva @richardslady121 @dkfixates @azzawrites @searchingforgravity @sharebearkk @18lkpeters @elvispresleywife @moonchild-daniella @bisexualwvtson @eliseinmemphis @avengen @father-of-2cats @j-v-9-2 @lillypink @notstefaniepresley @stylespresleyhearted @godlypresley @literally-just-elvis-fics @crash-and-cure @coolgirl462 @elvisabutler @beeandheroddobsessions @precious-little-scoundrel @misspresle @yanderereader @alqvarde @yynneessmons @kendralavon7 @daffieapple @louisejoy86 @flwrs4aust @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @leopardandstuds @burningloverdoll @fangirlaround @butler-trouble @butlersluvbot

Let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist. Thanks for reading!

[marihoneywk]

Duty and Flames

Ser Criston Cole x targaryen original female character

Summary:

Daenys Velaryon, oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and, allegedly, Ser Laenor Velaryon.

Hair white like moon, eyes bright like the sun. Many say that she’s the copy of her mother in her younger years, with an ethereal beauty and a kind but wild soul.

After six years in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and her family have to travel back to Kings Landing to secure Lucerys position as heir to Driftmark. What happens when the chaotic members of the Targaryen family reunite again and a particular Lord Commander of the Kingsguard takes a more dark interest in the sweet Daenys?

Chapter 2 - Books and other temptations

Right after the confrontation with Aemond in the training yard, Daenys and the boys decided to go back inside and avoid more drama.

Luke and Jace went for their chambers and Daenys went to hers, and took a long bath, scrubbing the smell of dragon that still remained in her skin.

Being born without a cracked egg, Daenys had no dragon during her childhood. However, in opposition to Aemond, Daenys never felt inferior for not having a dragon. She recognized her targaryen features and knew her time would come, feeling in her soul that somewhere in Westeros a dragon existed for her and only her to claim. Her parents were also her biggest supporters, always telling her that even without a dragon, they could feel a power in Daenys that only dragonriders had.

At the age of seven, Daenys and her family visited her grandparents in Driftmark. On their way back, Laenor claimed it would be nice to change their route a little, so that the family could pass through Dragonstone, and the children could see for the first time the castle that their ancestors build.

As soon as they set foot in Dragonstone, Daenys saw a silver shade resting calmly on the mountains and in that moment she knew. That was her destiny.

Daenys claimed Silverwing without a fight, as the dragon simply accepted her new rider. She touched her scales and felt a rough but at same time soft feeling. Sitting with bare legs on Silverwing wounded Daenys’s thigts but was the most comfortable pain that she ever felt. The scars that still remained in the inside part of her legs, were the memory of a moment where Daenys felt like the most important targaryen in the world. Especially as her family was sitting on the grass, and watched proudly as their girl flew flawlessly in the skies.

It was now supper time and Daenys was walking to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s apartments, so they all could eat together.

After her bath, her maids had dressed her in a grey gown, with long sleeves and an off the shoulders neckline. It was plain with only a golden belt that had one dragon figure in which side of her waist.

She had left her hair free down her back and wore gold earrings with a blue stone that highlighted her light eyes.

While walking up the stairs, Daenys heard steps right behind her and suddenly a hand touched her right shoulder.

She turned and saw a pair of brown eyes looking straight into her soul.

"Sorry princess, I mistook you for your mother. From the back, the two of you are indistinguishable." Alicent apologized, with a slightly embarrassed look on her face.

Daenys wondered what Alicent could want to talk to her mother about, to be willing to approach her so casually, touching her presumed shoulder in the halls of the keep.

“It’s no matter your Grace. People tell us all the time how similar we are.” Daenys gave a tight smile to the Queen, shifting her vision to the man who accompanied her.

Ser Cole quickly avoided her gaze, keeping his eyes straight to the wall on her side. Daenys frowned but ignored him, continuing to talk to Alicent.

“Six years changed you so much Daenys. You are a woman already.” Said the Queen as she studied her features. “ Have Daemon and Rhaenyra discussed your future betrothal yet? With your beauty and you being the heir to the throne, there must an infinite number of Lords who would want to marry you.” Ser Cole looked to Alicent with an inquisitive look and then finally brought his eyes to Daenys, curious to hear the answer.

Daenys shifted uncomfortably her legs thinking how much she would like to leave the Queen speaking to her self.

“Hm, well, my mother and Daemon are not really worried about me marrying yet. As the heir to the throne, I must choose the right man who would not only support me as his queen, but would also be perfect as a king consort. Therefore, making quick decisions on important matters like this, may not be the right way to go my Queen."

“That’s true, a shame my Aegon already has a wife, or it be a great a oportunity for you to wed a man like him." Alicent ran a hand through Daenys's hair, and then walked out of the hall, back the way she'd come with Ser Cole right behind her.

Daenys stood in her place absorbing Alicent’s words.

Aegon's wife was actually Alicent's own daughter, Helaena. Her claiming that their marriage was a shame made Daenys uncomfortable, as Alicent was the one who proposed the idea of marrying off her two children.

And long before that, while Daenys was still living in the castle, her mother Rhaenyra suggested marrying Helaena to Jacaerys, and the Queen refused. So why was she interested in the idea of joining the family now?

Even if Aegon wasn't married, Daenys would still refuse the proposal. She would rather die without a husband than marry an idiot like Aegon, as much as she had adored him as a child.

Daenys left her thoughts behind and continued to head to Rhaenyra and Daemon's apartments, as she had been doing before Alicent interrupted her.

Ser Erryk was in front of the door to the chambers, addressing her before she entered.

"Princess"

"Ser Erryk." He was one of her favorite guards, always cracking little jokes to Daenys when they were in more casual gatherings. She gave him a soft smile and walked into the room.

The chambers were exactly as Daenys remembered. Exuding a feeling of warmth and smelling of her mother's perfume. It almost felt like Rhaenyra hadn't been away for six years.

Her family was already seated at the table together, Daenys clearly was the last one to arrive.

"Almost arrived at time for breakfast." Daemon joked.

"I'm sorry father. The Queen stopped to talk to me on my way here." Daenys apologized as she sat in the empty chair next to Joffrey.

Her response immedeatly got a more attentive look from her parents.

"What did Alicent want from you?" Her mother asked looking already disstred with the thought of Alicent having casual conversations with her children.

"She mistook my figure for yours, and then asked of your plans for my future betrothal. I said you weren't concerned for now and then she proceed to comment how nice it would be for me to marry Aegon if he wasn't already married to Helaena." Daenys focused on cutting her meat, avoinding looking at Daemon's face while she was mencioning Alicent and Aegon.

Being her father sincer ever, but only being in her life for the last few years, Daemon was an overprotective man who would rather die than let his daughter share life with a half-Hightower boy.

Daemon and Daenys' relationship started out awkward, as the girl was greatly shaken by the death of her presumed father, Laenor Velaryon. She and Daemon only shared basic conversation and almost no physical contact, but within a few months their relationship had evolved into a strong, loving father-daughter bond. They flew together daily on Caraxes and Silverwing and liked to read old books in Dragonstone's library, discussing their favourite stories.

Daenys could not publicly refer to Daemon as her father, simply calling him by his name in open spaces or when other people were around, otherwise she would be admitting to being a bastard. With her brothers's situation, she didn't want to make the rumors worse.

“That cunt is already plotting some scheme with her corpse of a father, I can feel it.” Daemon dropped his fork roughly at the table, scaring little Joffrey who jumped at the noise.

“I’m sure it was nothing father, there’s no need to be so angry already.”

Her mother only starred at her in silence. She obviously wasn’t fine with Alicent suggesting such things to her daughter, but she also didn’t want to instigate more anger into Daemon when all that had happened was a simple conversation.

“If she comes to speak to me about this again, I’ll tell you ok? Now let’s change the subject and eat our food peacefully.” Daenys tried to clear the air, not wanting her first supper in the Red Keep to be eaten in a tense environment.

Daemon nodded at her, deciding to leave the topic behind for now, and Joffrey, sensing a more calm mood on his stepfather, started describing his first day in keep, speaking excitedly about the new toys he found in his room.

The rest of the supper went smoothly. Jace, Luke and Daenys laughed and talked about their plans for the next day, and Daemon and Rhaenyra chuckled at Joffrey’s distaste for the carrots in his meal, who was secretly putting them Jacaerys’s plate.

-

Daenys’s maids had already brushed her hair and dressed her in her sleeping gown, however, the girl was not feeling sleepy. Even if the majority of the people in the Red Keep were in bed by now, it was not that late, so she decided to go the library and pick up a book.

Putting her dark red robe and slippers on, she left her room, telling her guard, Ser Lyonel Bentley, where’s she was going. He stepped up to go with her, but the girl assure him it would be a short trip, since she was only picking up a book and coming back to her chambers to read it.

Daenys made her way to library, not being used to the silence that the keep hold at night.

Entering the library brought back old memories of her studying at the tables with her Septa. The uncomfortable position in the chair and the scolding of the old woman that always noticed when Daenys wasn't listening.

She chose an old book that she had read before and, without thinking about what she had said to Ser Bentley, Daenys sat down in the armchair closest to the burning fireplace and placed her feet on the small table in front of her.

A few minutes had passed and in the middle of reading her book, Daenys heard someone enter the library. She noticed the clatter of an armor, so she immediately assumed it was Ser Bentley looking for her.

“I’m so sorry Ser Bentley, I-“ When she looked at her side, it wasn´t her guard who was looking at her but Ser Criston Cole.

She was surprised by his presence but didn't shift her position in the chair to address him.

“Ser Criston, I wasn’t expecting you.” Daenys said, ignoring his presence and turning her eyes to the book again.

“A bit late to be in the library, don’t you agree princess?”

Ser Cole was leaving Alicent’s chambers, changing with the guard in charge of the night shift, when he noticed that the door to the library was open.

When he entered he didn’t expect to find Rhaenyra’s daughter seating comfortably in an armchair reading a book.

Due to her feet being rested lazily on a table, her robe and nightgown had ridden up, showing her bare legs almost to the knee.

Ser Criston tried to avoid moving his gaze, but a blue bruise below her right knee stole his attention. He couldn’t pretend to feel indifferent to the dark color against her pale legs. Her skin looked so appealing under the candle lights, just like he had imagined it.

He was in a trance. A dangerous and forbidden trance that Daenys hadn’t notice since was still glaring at her book.

“I don’t think that concerns you Ser Criston. What I do in my night time is my concern only.” She flipped her page, changing her position in the chair.

When she moved, her vestings went higher, showing a little of her thigh, but the princess remained focused on her reading without feeling the cold air on her skin, as she was sitting next to a fireplace.

Ser Criston breathed loudly, feeling hot under his armor. So hot he could melt. Not even the dornish sun could make him sweat like this.

He subconsciously imagined his hand touching her leg, tracing a slow path that started in her feet and ended in her thigh. Her thigh was the maximum that his imagination could handle at the moment, but inside of him he already knew he wanted his hand to go further than that. To touch a place that nobody had that touched yet. A place that would make him burn.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Daenys finally looked up from her book and Criston woke up from his dangerous trance.

“Hm.. well princess.. I… I just came to library to see if somebody was inside.” His forehead was glowing with sweat. He felt like Daenys read all of his thoughts the moment she interrupted him, even if in fact, she had no clue of them.

“Well, here I am, so you can leave now Ser.” Daenys just starred at him, wanting to be left alone.

Ser Criston turned his back on her, accepting this chance to leave and quickly started making his way out of the library, needing to be out of his heated armor as fast as possible.

Before he could reach the door Daenys spoke.

“Ser Criston, actually I want you to escort me back to my chambers. I’m tired of this book.”

Next Chapter:

[madisonrooney]

oh shit its been like. a week and a half and i havent told yall my dove story maybe i should do that

so i went to the cameron boyce foundation gala again. thats where i saw her last summer too, not sure if i ever mentioned that then lol. knew she would be there but only wanted to talk to her if it felt right given the circumstances. following my much more talkative friends lead who knew a lot of the people there to some degree (not unlike my fan relationship with many of them but a bit closer than i am to some), we talked to a number of people so im like ok if were talking to everyone else we gotta talk to her.

almost thought we lost her as things wound down but we spotted her and walked over and my heart rate continued to increase every step i got closer to her.

didnt really know what to say but i wanted to re-establish who i was, given how much time has gone by since we used to regularly interact plus i was wearing a mask, so i just said what ive said before in similar situations which was “its been a long time!” and she said “yah i havent seen you in a while!” and im like oh god she does remember me oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god

we take a pic together and then i finally give her my short little speech that basically sums up my last 3 years worth of thoughts and worries. some off yall may remember me posting during quarantine how terrified i was that our relationship would basically die since we couldnt interact in person and im too anxious to be on stan twitter or anything like that. so i said “i know we havent interacted much over the past few years bc of that little pandemic lol but i hope you know im still supporting you in everything you do” and she like.....put her hand on my arm and thanked me hhhhhhh

then i added “obvs ive been supporting you from the beginning but even moreso as youve been an advocate for the queer community of which im also a part” and she thanked me again. THEN I SAID HAPPY PRIDE MONTH AND SHE SAID IT BACK LIKE. OKAY. (my coworker said those were basically our wedding vows and i have to agree)

she apologized that she was having a bit of a nervous breakdown, i guess in regard to her short responses (which i really thought nothing of). like first of all so was i and second of all ofc i dont blame her given the circumstances

at some point she said “thank you for supporting cameron” which just. warmed my heart so so much.

gave her a quick hug and as she walked away i said “we love you!” and she said “i love you guys!” and blew us kisses. whew.

so. yah. i basically got to tell her what id been harboring inside me for like 3 years and got three PLUS years of weight off of my shoulders. its kinda hard to believe but i really healed so much in that moment and im just. so so grateful.

to still be able to have these interactions with her, even if not as long and not as often as they were years ago, now that shes blown up so much is not something i take for granted in the least. i really needed this and im so so glad i got it.

one of the first things that popped in my head afterwards (besides the intense desire to cry which i had to fight due to still being in public) was “man. i would do anything for her.” so i guess let that be your take away

[saturnsringslandfill]

I've come to realize a lot of things these almost three weeks of winter break, and I think the most important one is that I am not alone.

My family is there, although not all of it. I have my friends, even if they are few, they are still important. And my best friend is probably my biggest support, although I have support from the others too. My psychologist is also there, although that is something more different (because it's her job JSJAJ).

I am 17 years old, my life is not going to end because of one or two broken or ended relationships. People come and go, but that doesn't mean they can grab and take my essence and light away from me and let me without nothing (lots of x and x things here in one phrase, sorry-).

Take this as a driver to get things done rather than a depressant to not do them and sink into negative emotions. Show those who decided to let you go without a second thought how unstoppable you are now. Show them that you don't need them anymore.

Yeah, at the beginning it may seem difficult, very difficult, I'm aware of that. You can feel bad for a day, a week, a month, two, five, eight, it's okay, it's valid. Your feelings are valid. You are valid. Please don't let anyone make you think otherwise.

There are so many things to see, to do. So many things to live for. So many experiences that await us, and it all starts with some little hope and want. I know it's hard to get thoes out of yourself to start living the way you really want, but even in the darkest moments, something always appears. Something that gives us the desire to keep going, the hope that everything will work out in the end. No matter how small it is, no matter how insignificant you may think it is, fight for it. And if you feel like there's nothing to fight for, you yourself are something, you are someone worth fighting for.

I will try to improve this year, even knowing that it'll be hard. I will work harder on my studies, and I want my mental health to be better. My stability will still have turbulent peaks and troughs, but I want to make it a calm valley. I want to work more on my physique as well. Eat well (it's not that I eat badly, it's that I don't eat- I have bad eating habits), do some exercise (I don't know, walk or run for a long time, knowing that that always calms me down a lot. Maybe dancing too), make new friends (I'm thinking of joining a club that a friend of mine is in) and start preparing for my future studies (I'm entering Bach after summer break).

I will continue writing and doing what I like in my free time. Playing video games, reading, writing poems or short novels, hanging out with friends, singing... But I have goals this year that I really want to achieve. Love live is not one of those-, but if it knocks on my door, I don't know if I'll be ready. I want to do things right.

I'm 17 years old, I have a whole life ahead of me. I'm not going to waste this year, not again. I don't want to, I refuse.

Let's start this year together. Whether it goes good or bad, we will face everything that fate throws at us with our heads held high and feeling proud of who we are.

I know we can do it ‹3.

[pmcmarty]

This Weekend I Ride for My College Roommates

As I mentioned in an earlier email and in my PMC Profile, I am dedicating the ride this year to two of my college roommates.

Both of them are fighting very difficult battles with cancer.

Steve Lufkin, College Roommate Junior Year, USMC

On Oct 6th, 2023, Steve had brain surgery to remove a small mass. On Oct 17 it was confirmed as Glioblastoma, the very aggressive and fatal brain cancer. He started Radiation and Chemotherapy on Oct. 30th and completed treatment on Dec 11th. The tumor had affected the part of his brain that has reduced his ability to walk, talk, and read.

He continues to battle his brain cancer with strength, hope, and positivity. It has been a tough battle for Steve, but so far he is beating the odds. Some of his strength and cognitive abilities are returning.

Chris Greklek, College Roommate Senior Year

Chris had been a frequent visitor to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. I actually paid him a visit on one of his stays there a number of years ago. Back in March, I, along with a couple other roommates, got together and we told old war stories and caught each other up on our lives.

Chris is having a tough year. Earlier this year his adoptive father passed away. Then, towards the end of April, his 15 year old furry companion, Clyde, passed away.

We said goodbye to our old, loving and beautiful friend, Clyde, this past weekend. He lived a beautiful 15 year life with us Grekleks. The last 2 years with me. He helped me more than I helped him. We went on so many great adventures together. He especially loved Lowes and Walmart. Everyone wanted to pet him and he enjoyed every second of it. Everyone will miss you, Clyde. More than you ever knew. See you soon, my friend. We'll go on more great adventures together. Christ Greklek, Facebook, April 30th

Early in July, after fighting cancer in one form or another, his Oncologist told him that there is nothing more they can do.

It's time again to ride into battle. Only this time, my weapons are empty. They're, unfortunately, useless against this effing disease at this point. I fight now because that's what I do. My medical oncologist told me on the 5th, "There is nothing more that can be done to help me". While difficult to hear, I've been anticipating these words for several years. So no surprises there. Doctors don't give life expectancy times anymore. It's all specific to each person. I've made it to the end of the road. Now I'm lucky enough to look back on how much of an absolutely beautiful life I've been able to experience. I'm also able to go out on my terms, my way, no regrets...ever. I'm so damn grateful. Love you all, thank you everyone. Do better. Be stronger. Christ Greklek, Facebook, July 19th

Despite this news, Chris remained strong and positive. He is an inspiration.

Rest in Peace Chris

On Tuesday, July 30th, Chris lost his seventeen year battle and passed away surrounded by family :-(

Rest in Peace Chris. You fought one hell of a battle.

PMC 2024, August 3rd & 4th

This weekend they both will be in my thoughts as I struggle up those hills and grind it out 185 or so miles over 2 days, knowing that it's nothing compared to the struggles they both have faced. Their fight, inner strength, and perseverance against all odds is inspiring. 

If you have donated already, thank you. You donation is greatly appreciated!

If you haven't donated yet, it would be great to see your donation hit over the course of this weekend :-)

100% of every donation goes directly to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston and supports cancer research & patient care.

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Thank you for your support!

Marty Middelmann

My 2024 Fundraising Goal: $12,000

Raised for 2024: $7,627

Number of Donors: 79

Corporate Matches: $450 (Including $100 Pending) 

My Progress Towards that Goal: 63.6%

[sasquatchboobs]

I can't really remember whether I'm "clean" or "messy" naturally. According to my mom's standard, I am very messy. But as I look around at this apartment, it is much messier than the spaces I had when I lived on my own. Maybe I don't clean as much as I should (doesn't everyone feel that way?) But it got to a point when I realized that keeping up with it is just so exhausting. It wasn't like this when I lived alone. Not everything was pristine, but things were put back where they should be. I didn't feel like my space was ruled by chaos.

I'm trying to remain introspective and not blame my partner, but the longer I think about it, the more I can't ignore his contributions to the mess, and his lack of contribution to cleaning. The more I count the number of items he has left out that I had previously put away for him. The more resentment grows when he won't even bring his dirty dishes to the kitchen, but leaves them in the living room to attract ants.

When he knocks an empty soda bottle off the coffee table on his way to the kitchen, looks at it on the ground, then leaves it there and continues walking. Obviously my first instinct is to pick up after him. But I didn't once, I left it to see how long it would stay in that spot on the floor. It was more than a week before he picked it up.

If I ever even insinuate that he doesn't clean up enough, he gets really mad, yells that he actually cleans WAY more than I do, and I'm actually the problem and should be cleaning more. I, of course, cannot produce hard evidence to support my position, and he doesn't back down from his defensive positions. I often end up acquiescing just to end the argument and restore peace. I know I shouldn't but I can't get my anxiety to go away until the fight is over.

He only ever washes the dishes (very occasionally even wipes down the counters) and takes out the trash. He seems to resent these tasks and hold it against me that he already does ~so much~ "for me" without acknowledging all of the cleaning and tidying I do. To be honest, I don't think he even notices. We have two bathrooms, and I can count on one hand the number of times he has cleaned either of them in the 5 years we've lived here. I remember his college house bathroom... An absolute horror show, but there were other 2 guys who lived there so I excused it at the time, but it should've demonstrated the conditions he's willing to live in.

He also just... Takes advantage of my things. I literally bought him nail clippers and a nail file so he didn't have to use mine all the time (he would never put them back, or just ya know BUY HIS OWN), but he misplaces those too so just goes to look for mine (which are conveniently always in the same spot!), uses them, then puts them back in a different spot, like in his desk drawer! I can't tell whether he forgets he's not using his or whether he's just decided to claim my items for himself, or whether he just truly put no thought into the action at all like he claims. And then what do I find as a present on the coffee table? A pile of toe nail clippings. Despite there being a trash can less than 2 feet away. Fucking gross.

I want to keep a cleaner space. But we've had so many "couples conversations" about how we're going to do that, together. No accusations or comparisons, I'm very careful to not put him on the defense. But guess who actually follows through, and then eventually loses steam as her partner doesn't really do any more than start vacuuming one room every other month. I mean, just the simplest things won't stick for him and I don't get it; I bought a "dirty/clean" sign for the dishwasher so we could stop having the "did you run the dishwasher?" conversation. I use the sign every time I run & empty the dishwasher. I don't think he's used it once, and will never fail to ask me "did these dishes get washed?" since he doesn't use it he assumes I don't either, and doesn't even bother to look.

To be totally gross, I'll relay a recent event that I think caused a turning point in my mind. He had expressed that we weren't having enough sex for his liking, so I was trying to make the effort to initiate more when I felt attracted or aroused. We had a nice time cuddling on the couch and I went to the bathroom to clean up a bit first. I opened the toilet lid to find he hadn't flushed his big nasty shit (which he often doesn't) and just lost any momentum and attraction I had. Fucking gross, dude.

I need to be financially independent somehow so my options open up, but that's really tough when I'm going to school, and I know I don't have the capacity to work full time and finish my degree in a reasonable amount of time. And I know that this dirty chaotic environment isn't helping my mental state or my executive functioning ability. But I also don't have the energy or desire to clean up after this man anymore.

[chongmike]

Papa’s LOVE

I was born on a poor family we live in conconig west, Sta. Lucia ilocos sur ,My father is a farmer and my mother is a house wife our life is simple we eat 3times a day and we lived together no stress and no problem as a child thinking that life is easy just play ,eat, sleep that was that life is easy , We studied elementary school in NORTH CENTRAL SCHOOL me and my ate walk 5km from our house to school and my baon is just five pesos sometimes nothing just water after our class we walked again to go home and after that i just felt that i am different from my classmates since then on i dream high so that my parents will never experience a hard life.

Time lapses I graduated in elementary and I continued my studies in our town in Sta.Lucia Academy my life in highschool isn’t easy for me highschool life are full of different types of students , a bully ,the rich kid ,the nerd and i am the one who stayed on the front side who always sleeppy feels tired in early morning i have to woke up Early and do my responsibilities going to farm and help my father and collect grass for our goat so that they won’t be hungry , after that i go to school riding my father’s bike i do also diskrte like construction and farming and many more life isn’t easy for me but it’s not an hindrance for me to dream high to have good life someday, when i finish 1st year highschool i feel inlove with the sports cycling when i ride my bicycle i feel free i also make money doing this sports my parents specially my father always supports me doing this kind sports until I graduated highschool and i pursue my cycling career and all my hardworks paid off i become one of the best player in our province i joined a lot of cycling events in or out our province gov. Ryan also recognize me when i joined the biggest race in our country Philippines. And gave pride to our province i also recognized by media like bombo radio and many more I received a lot of recognitions and awarded as best rookie when the pandemic came we lost our side hustles and i also stop my college life for 1 year during pandemic i stop for a reason to help first my family needs after the pandemic and life going normal . And I enrolled again online school then implemented limited face to face i also do both academic and work for us to survive my father also work harder after his work on a tobacco company as a driver for 30 plus years he is also a farmer I admire his dedication to gave us good life he is so good person I love you papa 😭this word that I cannot say to him when he was alive . Last February my father died he was diagnosed with cancer which a late stage cancer we fight for his recovery for 5 months we sacrificed all our ipon and all the things that imwe pundar when i was working and doing my side hustle which online selling and many more i said to him we have a lot of money because he always said that we have nothing to spend on his hospital bills but we fight for his recovery for his life and for our happiness but on the last month for his medication his doctor’s call on all of us all his relatives and family for no reason he said but I feel that my father will not going to be cured I cried and i cried all of us we know we gave all as we can just to cured him but god didn’t let him to suffer from pain . My father prove that on his sufferings that he is a good person because when his burial there are too many people who attended his burial also when he was sick all of his good freind visited him and gave him support and many more. We never loose our faith on god we thank god for blessings he gave to our family guidance,safety and happiness also i thank to god that he gave us a good father so we grow a good person and a better person . This story of my father is not enough to describe all his kindness and sacrifices to us and to other person he meet all his good memories will never faid they always remember him all his lessons to us will stay in our heart and soul . What ever happened in our life never changed the goals never change your goodness to other instead be a better person that’s all thank you .

#papalove#remembered

#loveofafather

[xutokawa]

aahh the s/o finding scratch marks is fulfilling my angst needs 😭🤚🏽 could u maybe do one with bokuto & suna 🥺 i love your writing so much!! xx

pairings: suna x reader, bokuto x reader

genre(s): fluff to angst, cheating

warnings: langauge, cheating

wc: 2.3k

» masterlist

a/n: thank you for your support! I tried adding more plot to it this time hehe. breaking bokuto’s heart broke mine bro :( hope you like it! also TYSM GUYS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS FDJSKF i love every single one of yu :D <3 mwah mwah mwah

atsumu and oikawa ver.

osamu and iwazumi ver.

kuroo and sakusa ver.

akaashi and hinata ver.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Suna

“Rin, hand me the soy sauce,” you asked, not looking up from the dish you were stir frying.

“Get it yourself,” Suna teased back. Rolling your eyes, you stuck out your hand. Laughing, Suna came up behind you, placing the bottle of soy sauce in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist. His hands snuck under your shirt, laying on your bare stomach. You leaned back into his chest, sighing contently. The two of you rarely had time together anymore. While you were burying yourself in your work in hopes for a promotion, Suna was busy with practices that extended throughout the whole day. Both of you were exhausted by the time you came home to your apartment together, unable to muster the energy to do anything except fall asleep in each other’s arms.

“Mmm, you smell good,” Suna said, taking a deep breath into your neck.

“I think that’s the fried rice you’re smelling,” you joked back. Butterflies stormed your stomach as Suna’s hands gently massaged your sides. Even after living with the middle blocker for three years, he never failed to make you feel like a crushing high school student. Suddenly, Suna’s gentle hands grew antsy, teasingly tickling your sides. Jumping, you tell him, “Rin, stop! I’m going to spill something!”

“I think I’ll keep going,” Suna teased back, his hands continuing to tickle you. With one poke to your side, your entire body jerked, causing the soy sauce in your hand to fling into the air, and onto Suna’s shirt.

“Y/n! I really liked this shirt!” Suna whined. 

“That’s your fault, baby. I told you to stop,” you shrugged, laughing at his expression.

“Whatever, I’m going to go change,” Suna pouted, turning away.

As you finished cooking, you went into your shared bedroom to tell Suna dinner was ready. You were stopped in your tracks, however, when you saw his changing form. Back to you, long scratch marks ran down the length of his back. Scratches that were not put there by you. 

“R-rin, what is this?” You asked, voice beginning to waver.

Suna spun around, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Y/n! Why didn’t you knock?” Suna nervously asked, rushing to push his t-shirt over his head, “It’s nothing, babe, just uh, got in a fight!”

“Are you sure it was a fight? Or was it a late night in someone else's bed?” You asked accusingly, brows furrowing. Would your Suna cheat on you? You had felt pretty secure about your relationship before now, never having a reason to doubt your trust in your boyfriend. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to make excuses for the lines raked down his back. 

Pain and guilt flashed across Suna’s eyes, and that’s when you knew. You were wrong to believe you gave him everything he needed in a relationship.

“Look, y/n, we can figure this out, just let me-” Suna began.

“Please, stop,” you choked out, eyes welling up with tears. The middle blocker felt his heart shatter watching you back away from him as if he were a plague. 

“No, you don’t understand! I can’t lose you like this,” Suna said, walking towards you, wanting nothing more than to pull you in his arms and wipe your tears away. He stopped in his tracks, however, when you flinched away from his touch, hatred flickering in your eyes. At that moment, Suna felt like the scum of the earth.

“Please, get away from me. Get out of this room, get out of this apartment! I don’t need your excuses,” You said, voice raising. When you finally looked up to meet Suna’s eyes, you found nothing but despair and regret. 

“No! I won’t leave you, y/n! You don’t understand how much I need-” Suna started.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Rintarou,” you scoffed. The pain in Suna’s chest grew at the use of his full name.

“I-it’s Rin. You always call me Rin. Please, call me Rin,” Suna pleaded, voice beginning to shake, “Stop distancing yourself from me. I’m your Rin. Please, don’t leave. I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you!”

“You’re a pathetic piece of shit, Rintarou! Cheating on me and then begging for me to stay and forgive you? Tell me, what was your plan? Did you just want a quick fuck one night? Or did you plan to keep cheating on me for the rest of our relationship?” You angrily walked towards him. Suna watched as the love you once held in your eyes for him turned into agony. He felt himself crumple knowing he was the sole cause of your anger and hurt.

“No! It was a mistake! Please, let me make it up to you,” Suna reached for your hands, desperate to have you with him.

“The only mistake that was made here was me trusting you,” You said, spinning around as you headed for the door. Suna physically flinched at your words, hurt and shame flooding his body. Panic filled his mind at the sound of your keys jingling and the sound of you putting on your shoes.

“Wait! Y/n, where are you going? Please don’t leave, it’s not safe for you to go out right now. Just stay and let us talk about it,” Suna pleaded, walking up behind you.

“I’d rather be anywhere but here with you right now,” you coldly replied, reaching out for the door handle. Suna rushed to stop you from turning the knob.

“Please, y/n, I can’t handle you leaving me,” Suna whispered.

“Just leave it, Suna. No amount of begging or love can fix my trust for you,” you replied, back towards his sobbing figure. Suna finally fell to his knees in defeat as you walked out of the apartment, knowing he lost you forever.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Bokuto

“Ugh, I’m so ready to just relax,” you sighed out, dramatically splaying your arms across the center console in your fiancé’s car. A tingle ran up your spine at the sound of Bokuto chuckling from beside you, not taking his eyes off the road. You could never get used to his laugh, no matter how many times you’ve heard it.

“I know, baby. You deserve it,” Bokuto replied, taking one hand off the steering wheel to place on your thigh, giving a light squeeze. The two of you had been insanely busy the month leading up to this trip. From your boss’ unrelenting demands at work to your family’s constant nagging and opinions on your wedding decorations, the two of you just needed to catch a break. So, when Bokuto brought up the idea of a weekend beach trip, you immediately agreed, jumping up and down in excitement.

The beaming sun immediately warmed your skin as you stepped out of the car. Warmth spread through your body as you glanced back at Bokuto as he started pulling out your stuff from the trunk, looking up to flash you his smile you had fallen in love with ages ago. 

“You go on ahead and find a spot for us, I’ll follow in a second,” Bokuto called out to you. Giving a thumbs up, you started towards the gleaming ocean, excitement filling your body as you felt the sand beneath your feet. Finally, choosing a spot, you unfolded your beach chair, spreading your towel across the top. A smile settled on your face as you laid down, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the harsh rays. Your eyes drifted closed, the sounds of waves crashing and children giggling putting you in a serene state.

Bokuto chuckled at your appearance before setting up his own beach chair next to you, situating a beach umbrella between the two chairs. He felt his heart speed up as he gazed at your relaxing figure, wanting nothing more than to cover your face in kisses. The spiker felt so much love for you, so he felt nothing but confusion as to how he woke up in another person’s bed two nights ago, naked. His adoration for you was replaced with guilt. Bokuto still hadn’t figured out how to approach the situation, how to tell you without you breaking off the engagement. He wanted nothing more than to watch you walk down the aisle in a few months, than to have children running around the two of you as you prepared dinner, than to grow old with you by his side. Bokuto was still unsure of what happened that night to cause him to slip out of a random person’s apartment in his clothes from the previous night.

The spiker was shook from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. 

“Are you going into the water?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I think I will just to cool off,” Bokuto replied, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Okay, I’ll join you in a bit, I just want to lay for a little longer,” you replied to him, closing your eyes again.

“Okay, baby. Take your time,” Bokuto said, placing a kiss on your forehead before starting towards the water. You giggled as you watched your fiancé run towards the ocean. Your laughter quickly died, however, once you saw his back.

Your eyes widen with a mixture of shock and confusion, racking your brain for an explanation for the long, red strips that lined your fiance's back, but, no matter how hard you thought, nothing came up. The past month had been too hectic for the two of you to ever get close to intimate. Tears began pricking your eyes as the realization that Bokuto had cheated on you settled in your mind. 

Does he know he has scratch marks on his back? Is this his subtle way of telling me he wants to end this? That I wasn’t enough for him?

As soon as Bokuto hit the ocean, the salty water stung his back. His initial confusion as to where the pain came from was quickly replaced with realization. He shot up at the water, turning to watch you get up from your seat. 

Maybe they didn’t see, he hoped. His hopes, however, were quickly crushed as his heart dropped to his feet. You began to gather your things, rummaging through Bokuto’s belongings until you found the keys to his car.

Panicking, Bokuto ran out of the ocean as fast as he could, cursing at the water for resisting his movements. He watched helplessly as you began walking back towards the parking lot. You saw. You saw the scratch marks, and now you were leaving Bokuto. The spiker’s worst nightmares were turning into a reality right in front of his eyes.

The dull shouting of your name from down the beach sounded in your ears. You ignored Bokuto’s incessant calls for you, the ache in your heart overpowering every emotion you were feeling. 

Bokuto ran through the sand as fast as he could, hoping to catch up to you before you left his life forever. His lungs and legs were screaming, but the pain was nothing compared to the pain of you leaving. Panic rose in his eyes as he watched you get into the driver's seat, starting the engine to his car. 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you took a shaky breath, a weak attempt to try and calm your heart. You looked down at your engagement ring, memories of that night flashing through your mind, forcing another sob to rack your body knowing that your memories now meant nothing. Banging on the car window startled you as you looked up to find a panicked Bokuto. His frantic words were muffled as you watched him desperately attempt to stop you from leaving. 

“Please, y/n, roll down the window. Let me explain, please,” Bokuto blabbered, “Y/n, please don’t leave me, you have to let me explain. I love you! I want to marry you, and you only!”

Anger surged through your body as you scoffed at his words. Rage blinded your thoughts at the mention of your impending marriage. How dare he tell you he wants to get married after cheating on you? Your brain didn’t have time to process your movements as you pulled your ring off your left hand. You watched as a glimmer of hope flickered in Bokuto’s eyes as you began to roll down the window, only to have his eyes widen in pain and shock as you handed him your engagement ring.

“You’re really a piece of shit, Bokuto. You know that?” Tears began welling up in the spiker’s eyes as he stared at the piece of metal that laid in his hands. 

“No, y/n, please. Give me your hand, please,” Bokuto frantically pleaded, reaching for your hand. The ring in his hand belonged nowhere else except your ring finger. 

“Just stop, Bokuto, you’ve already ruined everything,” you scoffed out. As his eyes met yours, he was met with a whirlwind of hurt, shame, and pity. That’s when he realized. To you, he was pathetic. The love and adoration that made your eyes shine brighter than the sun was now replaced with hatred and pain, making them burn greater than the depths of hell.

Bokuto’s heart shattered into pieces knowing you would never love him the same, knowing he broke your trust. 

“I-,” Bokuto paused, unsure of what else he could say to get you back.

“I’m sorry, y/n” the man in front of you choked out. Bokuto felt helpless as he watched you roll up your window and drive away from him, leaving him in shattered pieces.

That night, when Bokuto finally returned to his shared apartment, the reality of the situation hit him. The empty aura filling the space that he used to share with you was all it took for Bokuto to fall onto his knees, becoming a shell of his former self. You were gone.

[toukatan]

You read every gojohime fic???? That's amazing!!! What are your favourites?

hello anonie! i guess i can say i’ve read at least a good 80% of all the fics, at least. probably. most likely because the fic tag at the start of the year was tiny and now the community’s grown so much there’s almost 600 of them. that’s insane to me. like hello?

i have a lotta fics that come to mind, that i should honestly make a master post on because i love them all. so here are a few many that came to mind immediately as i typed this up.

gojohime fic recommendations!

multichapter

limitations by ohmytheon 

“Parenthood chooses you," her mother used to tell her, but Utahime never understood that saying more than the moment she realized she was pregnant with Gojo Satoru's child. They were never meant to be something serious - never meant to be more than they were - and yet they both suddenly find themselves in a world that doesn't care about their desires - and that brings them closer in a way that no one else can understand. It won't be easy and it won't be kind to either of them, but it appears as if the universe has other plans for them

no one is what they were before by ohmytheon 

The world broke when Gojo Satoru turned on jujutsu society. It's not the hopeful place it was before, but Utahime has never been one to give up. Until she's placed in a dangerous position directly in his path, and she finds herself trapped in a web that doesn't seem intent on ever letting her go.

and touch me like you never by ohmytheon 

In public, Gojo is a special grade bastard, especially to Utahime, and has been all their lives. He knows exactly what insults to throw and what buttons to push to drive her up a wall. In private, however, he's got quite a few other things to tell and show her, which only makes things more confusing. It would be easier if she could avoid him entirely, but for some reason, he won't let her go entirely.

gravity by aerfei

This is Utahime, fierce and indomitable, and this is Satoru, who despite holding the world’s regard, still craves something that Utahime has had all her life. Coming together is sometimes an act of desperation, and sometimes a deliberate choice. Or: An Iori Utahime character study, through the lens of her relationship with Gojo Satoru, starting from the beginning and ending at the Goodwill Event arc. Manga spoilers and (at least 95%) canon-compliant through (at least) chapter 135.

count every single leaf in autumn by florieneofthesea

“I told my family we’re dating.” Utahime’s hand hovers over the door. “What?!” (or: Gojo tells his family that he's dating Utahime to get them off his back, so of course they invite her to the dreaded family dinner™)

favourite colour by otherthingsonhold

At 28, Satoru Gojo's responsibilities only start to multiply. With his clan looking to him to lead the family, and the balance of the universe in his hands, Gojo isn't thinking of much else. But when his mother brings something to his attention, the only thing Gojo can do is follow through. But how is Utahime Iori part of all of this?

gojo catoru by ashittywriter

Utahime is tasked to catsit a suspiciously large Persian dollface cat with pristine white hair, the most boop-able nose, and to top it off the cutest cerulean eyes. Too bad the cat also happens to be her idiotic colleague Gojo Satoru.

at the tail-end of spring by florieneofthesea

Utahime doesn't expect to remember her ex's number off by heart but it comes in handy when she's a little less than sober outside a club in a city she's not familiar with and her battery on three percent. She just wishes things turned out differently for them. (Or, post-break up exploration where outer forces refuse to let them have their happy ending.)

a second chance by onewordmore

In another world, it wasn't Geto who sneered down at humanity, regarding them to be worthless monkeys that deserved to die. In another world, it wasn't Geto who openly defied the Jujutsu Council and brought down terror and fear to all. In another world, it wasn't just Amanai Riko who died that day, amidst the cheers and delighted cries of the insane. And Utahime was going to learn, first hand, the consequences of her own death.

from you to me by onewordmore

A drabble series regarding Gojo and Utahime. From fluff to smut to angst to love. This is going to have it all.

oneshots

oceansize by aerfei

The marriage is arranged by their families, small clans both, with all their hopes and traditions laid gently upon the shoulders of their only heirs -- and yet, this distance is impassable.

under the cover of darkness by ohmytheon

It takes a little alcohol, early morning hours, and a game of truth or dare for Gojo and Utahime to admit some difficult truths to each other.

risk/reward by ohmytheon 

No punishment had ever been more effective in making Gojo do his actual job than receiving praise from his secretary - or more grueling than when Utahime withheld it.

like a good roommate by ohmytheon

Utahime has a problem: her bed wasn't delivered to the new apartment. Her ridiculous roommate, Gojo, has a solution - but he's kind of panicking on the inside.

aware of us by halspur 

“We did alright, didn’t we?” Gojo put his phone down after taking several dozen photos of Tsumiki walking across the stage, his eyes soft. “I mean, we were just kids, too.”

love song by halspur

“Because you’re weak.” Gojo said, muffled into the thin skin of her throat. “I can’t leave you alone.”

tear you apart by halspur

“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Utahime’s cheek was pressed into his spine, her voice muffled. “I like you.”

cuddles are for clean boyfriends by just_trying_my_best_everyday

Utahime finds Gojo Satoru sitting right behind the door, blindfold hanging on his neck, completely soaked in blood and petting her cat with both hands. And he stinks.

honey by florieneofthesea

Gojo Satoru experiences love a decade before he fully realises it.

roots by florieneofthesea 

At the start of winter, Utahime starts to cough up blood. She thinks maybe its just the lingering damage from her last mission, but the coughing persists and it starts to scratch her throat, and itch at her lungs and when she finally makes the trip to Tokyo to ask Shoko for her help, she doesn't even get the first word out. Shoko welcomes her at the entrance to Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School and Utahime hacks up a single, pale blue petal, smattered with blood. She stares down at the flora on the ground and wonders if she's been cursed. Utahime looks up, and Shoko's eyes are wide.

to have and to hold by ashittywriter

“M’sorry," Gojo said his voice slurring at the end. "But please go away, I have a girlfriend." Utahime blinked in confusion. What the fuck? 

souvenir by PrettyKittyLuvsU

“Aha!” Gojo tugged something out of his pocket, his long fingers curled around it as he held his hand behind his back. His other hand waved before him, a cheeky grin splitting his lips. “Ora, ora! Hold out your hand.” Utahime stared flatly. “Ora, ora!” Gojo persisted, continuing to wave his hand as he grinned. “Hold out your hand already!” Utahime scowled at the hand swaying infront of her face. She had half a mind to slap the man instead, but her students were closely watching. Even Gojo’s students, the second years mainly—for Sukuna’s vessel was apologizing profusely as the brown haired girl continued kicking him while the quiet one made no effort to stop her— looked in fascination at whatever ridiculous souvenir Gojo wanted to hand her. Utahime slowly lifted her arm, already planning on throwing the thing back in Gojo’s annoying face. Gojo gets Utahime a very special kind of souvenir. Set during the start of the Goodwill arc.

dayum this exposes me huh? i do be reading a lot but what can i say i love to see it. all these fics are amazing, to the writers y’all are doing fantastically like my goodness you be really putting ya girl in a loop with some of these fics with your plot-lines and doing it flawlessly. can’t thank them enough for them, their hard work and time!

be sure to show the writers some love and support with comments, bookmarks and fight that dayum kudos button when it smiles at you because lemme leave more—

i think they’d really really appreciate it when they hear the bing and be sure to check out all of their stories including the ones in the pairing tag! happy readings 😙✨

[yournameoneverypage]

When You're Ready

Reader request: Shawn Mendes x (y/n). "Shawn is on tour and invites the reader to the show so he can ask her to be his girlfriend and he sings When You're Ready, but Camila shows up and the reader is convinced that it's for C and not for her."

Word Count: ~3.7

Notes: Mostly fluff with brief moments of angst, and a smut ending.

Warnings: NSFW

~ * ~

(Y/n) stood at baggage claim at LAX, waiting for her blush-colored suitcase to roll by on the carousel. She was going to be in California for almost a week. Why? Well, her best friend was Shawn Mendes and he was currently on tour. He was missing her something fierce, he had said, and he wanted her to come see him.

Shawn had two sold out shows, consecutive nights, at the Staples Center followed by a show in San Francisco three days later, so why not make a week of it? His idea, but the second he mentioned it she was on board. She’d figure it out, find a way to make it work.

Any time she got to spend with him was both treasured and torturous. But she would go through the pain and heartache over and over again if it meant nearly a week with her most favorite person.

See, the thing was, (y/n) had been in love with Shawn for nearly as long as she had known him.

~ * ~

After retrieving her bag, (y/n) went in search of her driver. Shawn had said he or she would be holding a sign with her name on it. Shawn had a few interviews to do that morning, so (y/n) would be taken to his hotel to wait for him to finish, and then they’d have the entire afternoon and evening to spend together.

Aside from the aforementioned interviews, this was a day off for Shawn and he wanted to make the most of it because the Staples Center shows were the following two nights, and there wouldn’t be much down time during the days with soundchecks, meet and greets, and Q&As before showtime. Fortunately they would have more time to spend together between LA and San Francisco.

(Y/n) located her driver, who smiled brightly and introduced himself as John. He took her bag and engaged her in friendly chatter as he led her toward an idling Range Rover.

Who left a vehicle like this idling curbside at the airport?

John opened the rear passenger door for her with a knowing grin. (Y/n) started to climb in before she even noticed him.

“Shawn!” She almost tipped over into his lap reaching across the seat to hug him.

“Surprise, babe!” he chuckled into her ear.

“You’re here!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t collect you myself, but as much as I love my fans, I didn’t want to get stuck here for a half an hour taking selfies.”

“I thought you were in interviews all morning.”

“I was. I was hoping to come with John to pick you up, but I honestly didn’t know how long all the interviews were going to take so I didn’t want you to be disappointed if I said I would be here but then wasn’t.”

He was always so thoughtful; it was one of the many, many things (y/n) loved about him. She linked her hand with his between them, squeezed, and smiled. “I missed you.”

With a grin, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Missed you, too. So much. I’m so happy you’re here,” he breathed.

~ * ~

The day flew by way too quickly.

Once Shawn got (y/n) checked in and settled at the hotel, in a room that adjoined his, they grabbed lunch at one of Shawn’s favorite places.

It was (y/n)’s first ever visit to Los Angeles. Shawn had asked her if there were any specific things that were on her must do/see list, and he’d take care of everything.

They visited the Griffith Observatory, and strolled down the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

(Y/n) thought, and Shawn agreed, that too much attention might be drawn to them if he was spotted along Venice Beach or the Santa Monica Pier, as he had already been approached a few times during their activities earlier in the day. (Y/n) had been understanding and supportive of him spending a few minutes chatting with his fans and taking photos. She actually took a few of the photos herself.

Another day, he promised.

Instead, they spent a good part of the late afternoon and early evening at the Getty Center Museum.

They had dinner in Little Tokyo, followed by drinks at a tiki bar. Only one for (y/n) because she was a lightweight and tiki drinks were known to be quite strong. Shawn stopped after two, as he had a full day the next day and didn’t want to risk waking up with a hangover.

Back at the hotel, freshly showered, in pajamas, and in Shawn’s room, stretched out on his king-sized bed, Shawn and (y/n) ordered something from room service to share.

Even though they had chosen a movie to watch, they were too busy talking and laughing to pay much attention to the television.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day One, had (y/n) immersed in the thick of things with Shawn, his band, and his crew. She knew only a few of them and was introduced to many more. Her laminated pass was the same as what everyone else had, giving her access to anything and anywhere she wished.

She soaked up as much as possible.

Shawn didn’t always attend soundcheck with his band, but for (y/n) he definitely wanted to be there so she could fully experience it. She stayed backstage, chatting with Shawn’s people while he did his meet and greet photos. She sat in on his Q&A session but stayed unobtrusively toward the back of the room. She could talk to him whenever she wanted; this was his fans’ time with him.

The concert was unbelievable, as (y/n) knew it would be. Shawn always left his heart and gratitude on stage.

That night they were in (y/n)’s room, she on one of the doubles, Shawn in the other. He was still a little high on adrenaline, asking her how she enjoyed the day, and especially how she enjoyed the show.

She knew it wouldn’t be long before he completely crashed out. When he did, he was still in her room.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day Two, was much the same, although they started the day with Shawn dragging (y/n) to the gym to work out with him. They also skipped soundcheck to get lost together in the backstage corridors.

The closer it came to showtime, the more anxious Shawn seemed to get. He had a different vibe about him than he had the night before.

While eating dinner, (y/n) asked him if everything was alright. He assured her everything was amazing; it just felt like something big was about to happen and he hoped it would turn out to be a good kind of big.

~ * ~

Again, the show was absolutely incredible, although after the song he normally ended with, before acknowledging his band and going into the encore, he tried to quiet the deafening audience with a finger pressed against his lips.

Of course, it was futile. He just laughed, somewhat nervously, and said, “This song is for someone very special to me. Someone who is here tonight. I want her to know how I feel about her...”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention.

Shawn found (y/n) in the audience, met her eyes, and smiled adoringly.

Maybe I had too many drinks But that's just what I needed I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

(Y/n)’s heart started thumping. He couldn’t be singing this for her, could he...? He had never expressed any interest in her as more than a friend. Had he?

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

A couple of girls beside (y/n) bent their heads together and pointed to something or someone standing to the side of the stage. Shawn seemed to notice, as she had, and looked toward the side stage.

She followed his line of vision to see Camila standing there, beaming brightly. She put her fingertips to her lips and blew him a big kiss.

(Y/n) didn’t notice, over the dizzying blood rush in her head, that Shawn seemed to stumble a little through the chorus.

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin'

He glanced once more toward Camila, but just as quickly his smile settled again in (y/n)’s direction. His voice steadied and grew stronger.

What if my dad is right When he says that you're the one No, I can't even argue I won't even fight him on it Call you when it's late And I know that you're in bed 'Cause I'm three hours back Seems like you're always six ahead

(Y/n) smiled back, although it seemed more reflexive than genuine, as her heart was currently crumbling to pieces. She tried her hardest to be happy for her best friend and the woman he was currently confessing his feelings for, on stage, in front of everyone.

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin', yeah

And if I have to, I'll wait forever Say the word and I'll change my plans Yeah, you know that we fit together I know your heart like the back of my hand...

Before the song ended, overwhelmed, unable to continue her façade, (y/n) had slipped from the crowd and backstage.

She wasn’t sure where to go once she was backstage. She was fighting back tears, so her vision was blurry, but she didn’t want to stop to ask anyone how to get out of the venue because they might ask why she was crying and then it would all turn into one big mess.

A voice from behind her asked, “You’re Shawn’s friend, right? Are you looking for his dressing room?” Was she? Would she be able to face him after his encore and bows?

“Yes, please,” she found herself answering.

“End of the corridor, turn right, first door on the left.”

(Y/n) nodded her thanks and began to follow the directions she was given. She wasn’t sure if it would be the first or last place anyone would be looking for her.

~ * ~

Shawn burst into his dressing room, out of breath from the end of his show and running around looking for (y/n). Incredibly relieved to see her, he gasped, “Are you okay? What happened?? You just disappeared!”

“I’m sorry. I just needed a few minutes.”

“In the middle of the most important song of the night?”

Her voice cracked. “I said I was sorry.” And she was. She should have stayed till the end. “I was caught off guard.”

“Oh no, babe. Shit! I’m sorry, (y/n). I overwhelmed you, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have made it so public. It should have been a private conversation. Forgive me?” he whispered.

“Of course. You’re my best friend and I’m happy for you,” she smiled softly, truly. And she was. His happiness meant more to her than anything else. It was just going to take some time to refortify her heart. “I wish you and Camila the best.”

“Camila?” Little wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” she puffed.

Suddenly Shawn started laughing.

(Y/n) placed her hands in the center of his chest and pushed him away, unamused.

He caught her wrists and pulled her to him. “I wasn’t singing that song for her.” He placed her hands over his heart and covered them with his own. “I was singing it for you, my beautiful, clueless, wonderful, precious love.”

“What?” she exhaled.

“I finished singing and looked for your eyes, only to find you gone.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Not Camila. You, (y/n). In front of the entire Staples Center audience. Why did you think I wanted Camila?”

“You kept looking at her side stage.”

“I glanced at her twice,” he contended, lightheartedly. “I was surprised. I didn’t expect her to be here tonight. It’s true that she recently told me she has deeper feelings for me-”

“And you have always had feelings for her.”

“I had feelings for her. Past tense. Before I met you. Are you really arguing with me about how I feel about you?” he smirked.

“But you didn’t sing that song last night, when Camila wasn’t here.”

“You are!” he laughed again.

“Stop laughing!” she exclaimed, unable to stop herself from giggling, her heart blooming with hope. She then whispered, “Did you really mean it?”

“Oh, darling...

“If I had professed my feelings last night and you had turned me down, I don’t think I would have been able to get through tonight. Telling you tonight, when there were three days before San Francisco, would have either given us time to disappear together for a few days, or would have given me time to sort myself out if you didn’t want me the way I want you.

“Please tell me you want me.”

(Y/n) wanted to scream, yes, I want you!, but instead she teased, trying to keep a straight face, “I don’t know. Any boyfriend of mine has to be a good kisser. Are you a good kisser?”

“I am a fantastic kisser,” he grinned. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and slid his hand to the nape of her neck.

“Prove it.”

His other hand circled her waist, fell against the small of her back. He leaned in, watched her eyelids flutter, then close, and gently guided her lips to his.

She had imagined this moment for so long but it was much more than she had ever expected. Thousands of thoughts were forced away to make room for one single idea. How could one kiss cause the world to fall away around her?

“Shawn,” she said, breathless, easing away.

“Still proving it,” he murmured. He softly licked at the seam of her lips, and when she responded he deepened their kiss. Her heart was pounding, and she was warm from head to toe. She felt his tongue meet hers and her entire body began to hum.

Their knees were weak when their lips separated.

Shawn touched his nose to hers. “Well...?”

“I will be more than happy to kiss you all night long, but only after you take a shower,” she giggled.

~ * ~

(Y/n) knocked on the adjoining door. She didn’t wait for a response before letting herself through.

Shawn was leaning against the dresser, partly sitting on it, phone to his ear, wearing nothing but baggy, cotton pajama pants. His chest and feet were bare. By his side of the conversation, (y/n) grasped that they were talking about the plan for the days leading up to San Francisco.

He held his hand out to her in invitation. His legs fell open and she automatically moved into the V they made. He ended his call, set his cell aside, and placed his large hands on her hips.

“So, about what you said... Something about kissing me all night long?”

She moved even closer to him. One of her hands curled around the back of his neck, the other tangled in his still damp curls. The roughened pads of his thumbs caressed the bare, soft skin just above the waistband of her pajama shorts.

She kissed him, tenderly at first, and then with growing intensity. He gently bit her top lip, sucked it, her teeth tugged on his lower lip. His kiss was determined and sent her head spinning. She began to tremble as she clung to him.

Shawn’s lips slowed and softened; he eased away and breathed, “I’ve already waited so long; we can take our time.” He slid his hands further up (y/n)’s sides, under her shirt. “We don’t have to rush into anything. I can wait for you.” She felt his thumbs brush either side of her breasts.

She started trailing tiny kisses from his chin up along his jawline before touching the tip of her tongue to the lobe of his ear. “I don’t want to wait,” she purred.

“Oh, thank God,” he groaned before again pressing hungry lips to hers.

She responded without hesitation.

Her hands trailed down his chest and to his sides, her fingers playing over the ripples of his stomach. She brushed her knuckles against the start of his arousal and his breath hitched, cupped him through thin cotton.

He arched his pelvis against the heat of her palm and she heard a low, rumbling moan from the back of his throat. He tangled a hand in her hair, tugged gently. He bit down on the skin of her clavicle, sucked, soothed it with his tongue.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Shawn!” she scolded, playfully, chuckled, “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Good. Show everyone you’re mine. Mark you everywhere. But this,” he smirked, kissing the already purpling bloom, “will be the only one people can see.”

“Fuck,” she sighed. His claim on her made a shiver trickle up her spine.

“If you insist,” he grinned, smugly.

Feeling bold and sexy, she hooked a fingertip in the waistband of his pajama bottoms and starting walking backward. He stood to his full height and followed.

(Y/n) felt the backs of her legs hit the mattress. With fluid movement, she slid her shorts down, stepped out of them, and pulled her camisole up and over her head. She stood before him in small lace panties, breasts bare, nipples tight.

The way he looked upon her made her blood thrum, her body flush. He licked his lips, bit softly on the fuller, lower one.

His hand reached out and cupped one of her breasts. He gently tugged at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Instinctively, her hand slipped between her legs, at her core, and she rubbed herself through the damp lace. His nostrils flared when he caught the scent of her arousal. He whimpered, her name falling like a prayer from his lips.

“I wanna see you,” (y/n) purred.

Obeying, oh so eagerly, Shawn pushed his pants down, over his ass, off, his cock bouncing free, filling, curling up toward his stomach right before her eyes. He wrapped thumb and forefinger around the base, his other fingers pressed flush against his scrotum.

“Been thinking about me like this?” he hummed.

Yes. God, yes. Maybe one day she would tell him just how much. It was her turn to lick her lips and bite the lower one.

They fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and with a crash of lips. When they separated to catch their breath, (y/n) reached over to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Nuh-uh, Sugar,” Shawn rasped. “Waited too long for this.” Voice rough with desire he sang softly, “I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long... Darling, I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move...”

She might have giggled if her panties weren’t being drawn down over her hips, if calloused fingertips hadn’t begun to dance along soft, hot, electrified skin, lips and tongue following.

He took a dusky, peaked nipple into his mouth. Her back arched, hands grasping at the sheets at her sides, and moaned softly. He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, tasting, humming.

“Shawn,” she whined, moving a hand to tangle it in his dark curls, tugging him away from her breasts.

“Tell me what you want, Love.”

“I want you. I need you,” she pleaded.

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Shawn.”

“Mm... Since you asked so sweetly,” he smirked, stroking his cock. He rolled on a condom and moved to rest between her legs.

She reached between them, taking him in her hand, and he shuddered. She wanted to feel the moment he slid into her. He let her guide him. Their eyes met and held, bodies drew together, foreheads touched. She groaned with deep satisfaction into his mouth as she adjusted to his girth and length.

He wheezed, stilled as he bottomed out. She was so tight around him that if he began to move in that moment it would be over too soon.

“You okay there, Mendes?” she purred and imperceptibly tightened her legs around his waist.

“Oh God.” That tiny shift was almost too much. “You feel so good. Too good,” he mumbled. “I need a minute.” His arms on either side of her, holding his weight above her, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, centered on the scent of her skin as he salvaged control.

One hand again tangled in in his hair, the other stroked the skin of his upper back.

“Okayokay,” he mumbled, and he began to rock into her, slow... rhythmic... deep.

She gasped when the pebbled nubs of her breasts brushed against his taut nipples. Her whimpers and groans mingled with his rumbles and moans. She was torn between closing her eyes and wanting to watch his face as warmth and pleasure coursed through her.

He wanted her to climax before him. Wanted to watch her fall apart beneath him.

He knew she was nearly there when she began to ripple on the bed like a wave on the sea. The tide came all the way up; he was caught in the rush. And then the knot at the root of his cock dissolved in fire and he was falling fast, craving the feel of her so close to him, unsure where he ended and she began.

( FIN )

~ * ~

@theregoesmyherojd @benito-mi-vida @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @mendesblurb