#with so much care. he ain’t fooling anyone))

[achillesuwu]

And, besides, formally accepting and preparing the duel would take days. And, in Merlin's opinion, this whole farce has gone on for long enough.

He is so real for being like ‘yeah no too much work darling shut the fuck up’ 😂😂😂😂😂

Now, Geoffrey, I would greatly appreciate it if you would get a move on here. I don't want to wear this stupid crown for any longer than I have to."

Uihbuygvtyfvytfv HE IS SO PISSED LMAO

Merlin tried to ignore the hurt and longing that built up in his heart in that moment. How many times had he dreamed of something like this? But he never wanted it to happen like this. This was Merlin's dream come true, but it was all wrong. In that moment, Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, too afraid of what his dearest friend thought about this grievous overstep of boundaries.)

My poor baby 😭😭😭😭😭😭

There, that's much better," Merlin whispered to himself as he gazed upon Arthur, finally looking like himself again, but he was certain that Arthur must have heard it too, as Arthur's eyes went wide at his words.

Arthur’s last vestige of heterosexuality is dissolving in front of our eyes at this uygvuvyguygv

Arthur: A divorce can only be granted by the same ruler who authorized the marriage! You know what this means, right

OMFG 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 also don’t act like your heart didn’t beat faster in joy when you learn about this ALSO YOU LIAR YOU CAN JUST PUT MERLIN BACK ON THE THRONE BY ABDICATING, MAKE HIM WRITE A PAPEE ON HOW HE ABDICATE FOR YOU AGAIN AND DISSOLVE YOUR UNION ! I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE ARTHUR 😂😂

Arthur, blushing: It would reflect poorly on the king if word got out that he let his consort sleep in this dirty broom closet on their wedding night, wouldn't it?

Some people are going to do something else than just sleeping on that bed [I mean bickering what do you think I was implying 😇😇😌😌]

Also are you going to put this on ao3 too 👀

Hello again everyone! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support for the last part of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! I've had so much fun writing this au, and I'm so glad that you've all enjoyed it too! This will probably be the final part of this au (for now), since I have more au ideas to share with you all, but I'll probably revisit this au some day! For now, I'm approaching two pretty big tumblr milestones, so I'm working on an extra-special au to post in celebration of those (and I won't give anything away, but I think that this new au may be my best one yet, so stay tuned)!

Also, warning, this one is a long post! Be prepared!

Now, onto part four of this au! You can find part one here, part two here, and part three here!

As it turned out, planning a royal wedding was no easy feat.

Merlin had thought that simply adding a quick and (hopefully) painless wedding ceremony at the end of his coronation would make everything go smoothly. After all, the castle would already be decorated, they'd already have all of the important lords in attendance, and everything needed for a consort's coronation ceremony would already be there.

However, when Merlin announced to the lords and the steward in charge of preparing his coronation ceremony that he'd also need a quick wedding and coronation to take Arthur as his consort, they reacted with so much shock and horror that Merlin thought for a second that he'd accidentally announced that he was ordering their executions instead. The only person in the council room who didn't look like death itself had just appeared before him was Gwaine, who took advantage of he shocked silence following Merlin's proclamation to start laughing so uncontrollably that he doubled over and had to grab the wall for support.

Merlin had expected some shock and pushback from the council at his decision, not... this. All of the lords on the council had gone as pale as parchment, some trembling in their seats with fear. What on earth...

"Sire," the ever-unflappable Geoffrey called out, jolting Merlin from his confusion at the state of terror that had gripped the other council members, "while such a marriage would not be unlawful, it would certainly be unprecedented. I'm not questioning your judgement, I know that establishing yourself as a strong ruler this early in your reign is paramount, but are you sure that this is the best way to go about it? I'm certain that the citizens of Camelot will accept you as their rightful ruler as soon as they witness their true power for themselves, so taking the former king as your war prize isn't entirely necessary to show your dominance over the land."

The lords grew several shades paler at Geoffrey's words, and the trembling councilman sitting next to Geoffrey leaned in to fearfully hiss something into the librarian's ear. Merlin watched with growing confusion as Geoffrey's eyes went wide at whatever had just been whispered to him, and he rushed to speak once more.

"Of course, if this decision was made as some form of revenge or humiliation towards the Pendragon line, that is well within your right as a conqueror, Your Majesty. We would simply advise you to take the disgraced king as a concubine, perhaps, instead of your official consort. As a ruler, you must now also consider the issue of one day producing legitimate heirs, which can only be borne to you through your consort."

Merlin blinked, desperately trying to follow whatever logic Geoffrey was using. Take Arthur as a concubine?! Had the old man gone insane?! And Merlin certainly wasn't concerned about heirs, since if he got his way, then his reign wouldn't last longer than this week!

Still, with most of the council looking like they were being plagued by waking nightmares, they weren't likely to listen to Merlin's very reasonable objections to being king in the first place, so Merlin just had to get them off his back until the wedding.

After a deep sigh, which made most of the council members flinch back with a still confusing amount of fear, Merlin addressed Geoffrey's concerns.

"Thank you for your input, but I'm afraid that my decision has already been made on this... issue. I will be taking Arthur as my consort at my coronation, and my decision is final. And don't concern yourself with the topic of heirs, that will be sorted out shortly."

Several lords choked on the air at Merlin's last comment, with a couple outright fainting at his words. Merlin's brows furrowed even more with befuddlement. What... what had he said that garnered such a reaction?! He was just telling them not to worry about it!

(Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Merlin, the lords had a very different idea of what their new king- a powerful, brutal warlord and sorcerer- had planned. They interpreted Merlin's intent to marry Arthur as an act of revenge against the son of the man who killed off so many of his people during the purge. It apparently wasn't enough for the mighty Emrys to defeat his enemy and leave him with nothing to his name. No, this ruthless new king of theirs planned on forcing the former king into a life of humiliation and servitude in the court that was once his own. To a king, that must be a fate worse than death.

These lords, who were some of the most active and complicit members of Uther's purge, looked at the punishment that Emrys had planned for Arthur and thought if that's what happened to the king, what's he going to do to us?!)

The days went by quickly after that meeting, with Merlin's time being filled with a never-ending list of his new duties and things that needed to be done before his coronation, not to mention organizing the coronation itself and the subsequent wedding (which Arthur didn't know about yet, as Merlin had been deliberately avoiding the dungeons after his last conversation with Arthur).

It took the better part of a week for everything to finally be prepared for the official coronation ceremony. The ceremony itself would consist of Merlin being crowned in front of the court (a nauseating thought for Merlin himself), the vassal lords and knights willing to swear fealty to him taking the oath of loyalty, and finally Arthur being handfasted to Merlin and crowned consort.

Merlin was, for once, thankful for the amount of work that he had to do over the days leading up to the ceremony, as it kept his mind busy and his thoughts away from the pit of self-loathing that had taken up permanent residence in his head. After all, what kind of friend stole everything from the person they love the most in the world and then turns around and forces that same friend (and unrequited crush) to marry them?!

Merlin had attempted to rationalize his selfish decision to keep Arthur in the dark regarding his plan to reinstate him as king by telling himself that if Arthur didn't know about the wedding until the last minute, then he would spend less time worrying about it in the long run after he was king again! Besides, if Merlin's plan worked, they would only be married for a day or two, so there was no reason to get Arthur worked up over that by telling him earlier!

Truly, Merlin was not being a complete scumbag by doing this, he was just looking out for his friend's best interests and mental wellbeing! This would all blow over in a a matter of days anyways, Merlin was certain of it.

Still, Merlin found himself anxious and pacing the floor of his room on the morning of the ceremony. He had sent a team of servants and guards to retrieve Arthur from his cell and prepare him for the ceremony, so he likely wouldn't see Arthur until he was brought into the great hall for the handfasting ceremony. However, he still worried over Arthur's reaction when he learned what exactly when was being prepared for.

This worry lingered in Merlin's mind and consumed his thoughts throughout the entire day and into the coronation ceremony, so much so that his own coronation seemed like a blur to him. One moment he was standing in the great hall in front of the assembled crowd of lords and knights, and in the next, he was sitting on Arthur's throne with Arthur's crown on his head, with the crowd shouting "long live the king".

The sound of it almost made Merlin sick. Those words should never be directed at him, but he'd make this right soon enough. He just had to suffer through this ceremony to appease those disloyal lords who had turned their backs on their true king.

Perhaps the worst part of the coronation itself was the ceremony in which the lords and knights willing to pledge their fealty to him took an oath declaring such. It was no surprise to Merlin to see those weasels on the council of lords pledging themselves to save their own skin, but the knights who showed up to pledge their fealty were... very unexpected.

Look, Merlin had assumed that it would just be Gwaine and a small handful of guards and younger knights that he had roped into his mischievous scheme swearing loyalty so him. All of the other knights with their wits intact would surely still be down in the cells of the dungeon, holding true to their prior oaths of loyalty and keeping their true king company.

What Merlin did not expect, however, was for nearly a quarter of all of Camelot's knights to take a knee before him and pledge their loyalty, led by a highly amused Gwaine, who was no doubt enjoying every minute of this. Merlin quickly scanned the crowd of knights, trying to take count of who all had turned their backs on Arthur and could no longer be trusted.

Gwaine, of course, came at no surprise. Many of those assembled were commoner knights whom Arthur had taken in, including Percival, but the giant regularly got pulled into Gwaine's nonsense, so this wasn't truly that much of a shock if Merlin thought about it. There were a fair number of noble-born knights in the crowd, including all of those whom Merlin had noted had a softer outlook on magic. And then, of course, there were a decent number of pompous, high-born knights who had never given a lick about magic or loyalty, they just wanted to preserve their own wealth and power no matter the cost.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the cluster of those knights. All the rest had logical reasons to side with Merlin, between Gwaine's persuasiveness, solidarity between the lower class, or a connection or sympathy towards magic, so they would be allowed to stay in court after Arthur had retaken his rightful throne. But these knights? These cowardly snakes had to be dealt with at the first opportunity. But how could he get rid of them without people becoming suspicious?

... Wait a minute, Merlin was king now! He might only have that title for a day or so, but in that time, he could certainly use it! (And he absolutely was not using this as a tactic to prolong this part of the ceremony so that he had a few more minutes of peace before the wedding began.)

Right, but how was he going to play this? He couldn't exactly just announce that he wanted those knights to leave because he wanted them gone before Arthur took over again.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the group of treacherous knights and noted how they squirmed a bit under his gaze, with even some of the people around them shuddering. Right, he looked like a ruthless and powerful sorcerer to them now. He could use that to his advantage.

As the knights finished reciting their oaths, Merlin held up his hand, signaling for them to stay in place. The knights did so, but a confused and concerned murmuring started buzzing around at this strange departure from the normal ceremony. Slowly, Merlin lifted his hand and pointed at the assembled group of knights in the back.

"You lot. In the back."

The murmuring died down the instant Merlin opened his mouth and was instead replaced by an oppressive dread weighing down the ornately decorated hall. If Merlin wasn't trying so hard to keep a straight, intimidating face, he would have winced at causing such a wave of fear with nothing more than a few words.

Hesitantly, one of the called out knights stepped forward, addressing their new king.

"Yes, your majesty? Is there something you require of us?"

Merlin held back the urge to smirk as an idea, and a very satisfying one at that, formed in his head. He quietly cleared his throat and put on his most imperious "Emrys" voice that he could muster.

"I can sense insincerity in your hearts with my magic. Just as you abandoned the previous king, you would also turn your backs on me at the first opportunity to do so. Do not even attempt to deny it, you know just as well as I do that this true. I cannot trust any such men as knights of mine."

The group of knights went pale as Merlin called them out for their flimsy loyalty, and at once whispers began fly in the crowd. Perhaps they were intrigued by this show of his "powers"? Were they scandalized by this public shaming of a group of high-ranking knights?

Either way, the knights immediately began groveling, begging Merlin to let them keep their positions, their wealth, their power, but Merlin dismissed them with a wave of a hand and publicly revoked their knighthoods. The murmuring of the remaining people in the great hall grew louder as the disgraced former knights made their way out of the hall, no doubt intimidated and scandalized by how quickly their new ruler was purging his court of the disloyal.

However, with the loyal knights having taken their oaths and the untrustworthy ones having been cast out, the coronation ceremony was now officially complete, meaning that Merlin could no longer stall what would come next.

Merlin sat still on his stolen throne, trying his best not to fidget with nervousness as Geoffrey gave some traditional speech that had to be done before the doors of the great hall opened to let consort walk down the aisle to the throne.

After a couple minutes, Geoffrey's monotonous voice became nothing but a buzzing in Merlin's ears as he stared at the doors of the hall, desperately trying to imagine any scenario where those doors wouldn't open to an Arthur who was filled with nothing but rage and betrayal.

All too soon, Geoffrey's droning speech ended, and the trumpets in the hall announced the arrival of the soon-to-be-consort and signaled for everyone of lower rank to stand. Merlin's heart leapt to his throat as he jumped to his feet, even though he was the only person in the room who didn't need to. Ever so slowly, the doors to the hall swung open, revealing... Arthur.

Merlin damn near choked on his own saliva at the sight of him. He had seen Arthur in a wide range of states over the years as his manservant, ranging anywhere from sleep-rumbled to solemnly prepared for battle. But this... he had never seen anything like it.

Merlin couldn't decide if whoever had been in charge of dressing Arthur and preparing him for the ceremony ought to either be promoted to Arthur's personal tailor or immediately banished. In place of Arthur's usual surcoat and chainmail for official ceremonies, which was what Merlin had foolishly assumed the servants would dress Arthur in, there was... a monstrosity that would haunt Merlin's dreams for the rest of his life.

Merlin didn't even know how to begin to describe it. The garment that the servants had no doubt forced Arthur into, as Merlin knew that he would never wear such a thing of his own accord, was somewhere between a set of intricately intertwined robes and a dress, which hugged Arthur's shoulders, upper arms, and thighs, highlighting the muscles there. Most of the outfit appeared to be made out of a rich velvet, dyed in a majestic royal blue that both looked entirely out of place on Arthur and brought out his eyes like nothing Merlin had ever seen before. And dear gods, was that lace on there?! And why the hell did the outfit need elbow-length lace gloves?!

(The servants who had been in charge of dressing Arthur for the ceremony had assumed that their brutal new warlord would probably want his war prize to look as far from a warrior as possible, in order to further prove that he had beaten the previous rulers. So, they selected a delicate and elegant outfit for Arthur in the hopes of appeasing their new king.)

Merlin swallowed dryly as Arthur slowly began making his way down the aisle with measured footsteps. The movement snapped Merlin out of whatever temporary madness the outfit had sent him spiraling into, and Merlin finally locked eyes with Arthur.

Merlin winced at the sheer amount of rage that Arthur managed to fit into one glare as he took another step towards the throne that was rightfully his. Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring smile, but he was almost certain it only came across as a nervous grimace.

Just go along with this, Merlin tried to beg of Arthur with only his eyes. Their bond had always been one that allowed them to communicate without words, and Merlin prayed that their connection would hold strong once more and get his message across to Arthur.

Neither Arthur's impressive glare nor his furious scowl let up though, but he kept his pace towards the throne steady, which Merlin decided to take as a good sign. After all, if Arthur truly did not any merit to this impromptu plan, why would he still be walking of his own accord towards the altar?

Still, as Arthur grew closer and closer to the altar prepared for the handfasting, his eyes became darker with rage as Merlin winced. Yes, this would certainly be harder than it needed to be, but this had to be done to get Arthur back on the throne! Surely Arthur would understand that!

After what must have been an eternity, Arthur finally reached the altar and, ever so slowly, walked around to stand at a fidgeting Merlin's side.

As Geoffrey began yet another speech that had to be done before the handfasting took place, Merlin quietly turned to Arthur and gave him a small smile, trying to a least let Arthur know that everything was alright, that everything would turn out fine.

That little smile, it seemed, turned out to be the final straw for Arthur. Merlin wasn't even entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was standing next to Arthur in front of the altar, with the only sound in the room being Geoffrey's boring voice. And in the next, there was a savage war cry coming from Arthur, who was now armed with a sword, and a decent amount of screaming coming from the crowd.

It spoke volumes about Merlin's state of mind that his first thought upon seeing Arthur run at him with a blade in hand wasn't get back, dodge! but was rather that dress is tight, where on earth did he hide that sword?

However, Merlin's sense of self-preservation wasn't nearly as terrible as Gaius accused it of being, as his second thought was I should probably try to avoid getting stabbed at my own wedding.

Reluctantly, Merlin gathered his magic, ready to disarm Arthur and hold him still if need be. Arthur could stab Merlin later if he really felt like it, but Merlin needed to at least officially make Arthur his consort and heir before Arthur did that!

However, to Merlin's surprise, rather than trying to run Merlin through, Arthur instead stabbed at the wooden handfasting altar, sinking his blade deep into it. Merlin carefully kept his eyes on Arthur as the other man viciously pulled off one of the dainty lace gloves and threw it on the ground at Merlin's feet.

Dumbfounded, Merlin stared at the thrown glove on the floor and then looked back up to stare at Arthur, not quite getting what Arthur was trying to tell him here. Did he just really hate the outfit? Or was it this whole marriage plan that he objected to?

"Pick it up."

"Huh?"

Arthur nearly started growling, his rage apparently rising with Merlin's confusion.

"It may not be a proper gauntlet, since you have denied me such a dignity, but it will suffice for this. Pick it up, King Emrys. I challenge you to a duel in single combat for the throne of Camelot. You may have defeated my sister, but you did not defeat me! I am no prize for you to claim!"

Merlin simply blinked, completely thrown off by this turn of events, while loud shouts started erupting from the crowd. By the time his mind caught up to what Arthur had said, Arthur had taken up his sword from where he had struck it into the altar and was pointing it threateningly at Merlin again.

As Merlin's shock wore off and he finally understood what exactly Arthur had just done, he had to fight back the urge to scream into the sky with frustration as yet another one of his plans to reinstate Arthur as king had just been ruined by the obstinate clotpole himself. Couldn't the prat just let Merlin help?!

With his frustration rising, Merlin glared down at the thrown glove. While a duel would certainly allow Arthur to retake the throne, Merlin wasn't entirely sure how his magic would react to such a fight. Merlin would never consciously hurt Arthur of course, but who knows if his magic would strike out in self-defense?!

And, besides, formally accepting and preparing the duel would take days. And, in Merlin's opinion, this whole farce has gone on for long enough.

"No. I will not accept your challenge."

Arthur's face went red with anger at Merlin's refusal.

"You are just as much of a coward as the rest of your kind, sorcerer! You would not even grant me the opportunity to take back what's mine!"

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream at that. Arthur would be getting his throne back if he just followed through with any of Merlin's plans instead of ruining threm!

Merlin took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale, trying the rein in his own anger. He just needed to go through with this ceremony, and then everything would be fine.

With a quick flash of gold in his eyes, which had Arthur flinching back (and didn't that just sting?), Merlin turned Arthur's blade into dust had Arthur's glove fly back onto his hand, setting everything right as it had been before Arthur had pulled out a sword and all hell had broken loose.

"That's enough! I've been trying to restore you to your rightful position as king this entire time, and yet you push back at every opportunity! I am not about to let you sabotage your own destiny! So, here's what's going to happen!"

Distantly, Merlin heard the wind outside whipping around, like his own frustration and stirred nature itself into a frenzy.

"You are going to stand here, complete this ceremony, be named my heir, and then retake your throne when I abdicate! Are we clear?"

Arthur, who still looked rather shaken at Merlin's display of magic, scowled, but still nodded his head. Merlin, satisfied by this, turned back around to face the shocked crowd.

"And do I make myself clear to all of you?! There will be no more interruptions of this ceremony, and Arthur will take back his throne!"

The frightened crowd went silent at Merlin's outburst, seemingly relenting to Merlin's demands.

Merlin then turned to Geoffrey, who was still standing in front of the handfasting altar with the rope in his hands.

"Now, Geoffrey, I would greatly appreciate it if you would get a move on here. I don't want to wear this stupid crown for any longer than I have to."

The only indication that Geoffrey gave that he was surprised by Merlin's outburst was a mere uptake of his eyebrows, rather reminiscent of Gaius's signature look. Without further ado, Geoffrey tied Merlin and Arthur's hands together, declaring them to be now married in the eyes of the gods of the Old Religion.

(Merlin tried to ignore the hurt and longing that built up in his heart in that moment. How many times had he dreamed of something like this? But he never wanted it to happen like this. This was Merlin's dream come true, but it was all wrong. In that moment, Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, too afraid of what his dearest friend thought about this grievous overstep of boundaries.)

Immediately after Geoffrey untied the handfasting knot, Arthur's coronation as consort began. The ceremony itself went smoothly, but Merlin's heart broke both at the sight of Arthur kneeling before him, waiting to be crowned, and at the furious glare Arthur gave him as he gently put the consort's crown upon Arthur's head, officially naming Arthur as his heir.

As soon as Arthur stood from where he was kneeling, applause broke out from the crowd. Someone (Merlin heavily suspected Gwaine) started a chant of "long live the kings!", which caught on quickly. Merlin winced again at the chant, not daring to turn and look at Arthur's face.

Still, Merlin reminded himself as he took a deep, calming breath, everything was coming along. Arthur was now officially his consort and heir, and all that was left to do... was the copious amounts of paperwork finalizing his abdication.

Yeah, no. Merlin wasn't going through that process when he could just take care of it here and now.

"Citizens of Camelot, on this most joyous day, I, King Emrys, abdicate the throne!"

Even though he had made his intentions clear only a few minutes earlier, shocked whispers flew around the crowd, like they hadn't truly believed that he would go through with it.

Merlin couldn't help the grin that was forming on his face. Finally, everything would be set right again!

"I am no longer your king, and as per the laws of the kingdom, the throne now rightfully belongs to your true king, Arthur Pendragon!"

With that, Merlin reached up and yanked the crown off of his own head, marched over to a dumbfounded Arthur and, without any hesitation, replaced the consort's crown on Arthur's head with the true crown.

"There, that's much better," Merlin whispered to himself as he gazed upon Arthur, finally looking like himself again, but he was certain that Arthur must have heard it too, as Arthur's eyes went wide at his words.

But that was a conversation for another day, as Merlin was now done here. This entire calamity was over, and now Merlin was going to savor its end.

Merlin turned back to face the crowd once more with an undoubtedly crazed grin.

"Goodnight everyone! Be sure to obey your true king! In the meanwhile, I'm off to bed for my first full night's rest since this nightmare started!"

And with that, Merlin merrily skipped out of the great hall, made his way to his cramped room in Gaius's chambers, and slept soundly.

Bonus Scene!

THE NEXT DAY:

Arthur: Busts into Merlin's room

Merlin, unwillingly woken up from the best sleep he's gotten in years: Ugh, what do you want you prat?! You're king again, aren't you?! Don't you have kingly duty to be attending to?

Arthur: Merlin you idiot, you abdicated the throne.

Merlin: Yes, and now you're king again. You're welcome!

Arthur: But you never dissolved our union!

Merlin: Huh?

Arthur: A divorce can only be granted by the same ruler who authorized the marriage! You know what this means, right?!

Merlin: Yeah, that you can just declare us to be not married anymore and we can all be on our way.

Arthur: No, YOU were the ruler who authorized the marriage, and now that you've abdicated, you can't dissolve the marriage! Legally, no one can!

Merlin, turning pale: What?

Arthur, looking weary: Yes, apparently it's some legal technicality that Geoffrey cited from Bruta's code. I've spent all morning arguing with him, but there seems to be no way around it.

Merlin: So... what you're saying is that we're stuck being married to each other.

Arthur: Yes, you buffoon, that's exactly what I'm saying! Now, get up!

Merlin, feeling incredibly guilty over this entire situation: Arthur, I'm so sorry, I take full responsibility for this, I never should have forced you into-

Arthur, cutting him off: Let's go. We don't have much time before the rest of the castle is up and about, and I'd rather us not be seen here.

Merlin, confused but complying: Arthur, where are we going? Why don't you want us to be seen here?

Arthur, blushing: It would reflect poorly on the king if word got out that he let his consort sleep in this dirty broom closet on their wedding night, wouldn't it?

Merlin, blushing: Ah, I suppose it would.

And that's a wrap for this au for now! I hope you've all enjoyed this story!

A huge thank you for everyone who asked for this continuation! (and holy cow there were a lot of you!! Thank you all so much!)

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu @247merthur @veryroadpartystatesman-blog @verxen

@lascienzadellafantasia @jareicanon @arrowlovesdragons @juliairian @thesuperstitiousoldelf

@lovermyme @bootprivileges @rem-the-moth @hippielittlemetalhead @ole-to-you-nonetheless

@lordmushroomkat @starchaos01 @reynaharmonia @anastasia0614 @starlight-crow

@wheneverfeasible @savlikesbluengreen @fuckingdeadinsidetm @notquitehumanwrites @purplesandwichtiger

@rocks-d-xerxes @olli-is-a-fish @luluzealand2565 @dangerhumming @tireddruid

@spiralingtowardtheabyss @mundaneone @anxiousdragoncollector @catface233 @bennedict

@elementalpirate4 @bertolio @vadis-protenus @chaosofbelievers @floating-on-avalon

@merthurogies @justaz

And, as always, thank you all for reading through my ramblings! :D

I'll see you all next time!

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓯ourteen.

daryl dixon and mixed signals.

you’d gotten used to daryl’s rough edges over time. there was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect, even if that often meant dealing with his gruffness. but lately, he’d been different - quieter, more distant. whenever you saw him, there was hardly more than a grunt of acknowledgment before he’d be off somewhere else, hunting or keeping watch. it felt like something had shifted, and you weren’t sure why.

you kept your distance, figuring if he needed space, you’d give it to him. after all, everyone was dealing with their own struggles at the prison. you kept yourself busy, helping with the chores and making yourself useful wherever you could. but when you noticed how little he seemed to care whether you were around or not, it started to hurt more than you wanted to admit.

days turned into a week, and by then, you could barely remember the last time you’d had a real conversation with him. he was always somewhere else, either physically or mentally. you found yourself hesitating to approach him, not wanting to deal with another one of his curt replies. you told yourself it was just how he was - he’d always been a bit standoffish - but it was hard not to take it personally when he seemed to be avoiding you entirely.

one afternoon, you caught sight of him by the gates, checking the perimeter. the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. taking a deep breath, you decided to approach. maybe you’d been reading too much into things, and if you just talked to him, you’d realise it was all in your head.

“hey,” you called out, walking up beside him. “haven’t seen much of you lately.”

daryl didn’t look at you. his eyes stayed on the treeline, his expression as unreadable as ever. “been busy,” he muttered.

“yeah, i figured,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “but, y’know, we could still talk every now and then. just because we’re all busy doesn’t mean we have to shut each other out.”

“i ain’t shuttin’ anyone out,” he said, his voice a little sharper than you expected. “got things to do. don’t need to be chit-chattin’ all the time.”

you took a step back, surprised by the edge in his tone. “i wasn’t saying that. just... thought maybe we were friends.”

that got his attention. his gaze flicked over to you, brows drawn together in a frown. “we are,” he said, like the word was unfamiliar on his tongue. “just ‘cause i ain’t around doesn’t mean i ain’t still... y’know, here.”

“could’ve fooled me,” you shot back before you could stop yourself. “you’ve barely said two words to me in days.”

he turned fully to face you then, his expression hardening. “been dealin’ with stuff,” he said. “you ain’t the only one who’s got things goin’ on.”

“i never said i was,” you replied, your own frustration building. “but if you’re gonna act like i’m just some inconvenience, then maybe i should stop trying to be around.”

“who said you’re an inconvenience?” he snapped, his voice rising. “damn, you always gotta make things so complicated.”

you flinched, the words hitting deeper than they should have. “i’m not trying to make things complicated, daryl. you’re the one sending mixed signals. one minute, you’re fine, and the next, you’re acting like i’m a nuisance. what am i supposed to think?”

he exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “i don’t know,” he admitted, his tone softer now. “just... things are different. i’m different. don’t mean it’s got anything to do with you.”

“it feels like it does,” you said quietly, the anger giving way to a dull ache. “i thought we were closer than this.”

“we are,” he said again, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “i ain’t... good at this kinda thing.”

you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “daryl, i’m not asking you to be perfect. just... don’t push me away. i care about you, and it’s hard to do that if you’re always keeping me at arm’s length.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with whatever he wanted to say next. “i’m tryin',” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “ain’t used to people givin’ a damn.”

“well, get used to it,” you said, your voice gentler now. “i’m not going anywhere.”

there was a long pause, the air thick with unspoken words. daryl looked at you, and for once, there was no anger, no frustration - just a quiet kind of confusion, like he didn’t know why you cared, but he didn’t want you to stop. “sorry,” he mumbled, his voice low. “for actin’ like a jerk.”

you managed a small smile. “it’s okay. just... maybe let me in a little, yeah?”

he nodded, a hesitant movement that seemed to cost him more than it should. “yeah,” he said, almost like a promise. “i’ll... i’ll try.”

you reached out and gently touched his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. he didn’t pull away, just watched you with that same uncertain expression. it was a start, at least.

over the next week, things got a little better. daryl wasn’t exactly chatty, but he wasn’t avoiding you either. he’d linger a little longer when you’d talk, offer a gruff “good job” if you did something useful, and once, when he found you struggling with a heavy load, he stepped in without a word, taking it from you like it was nothing.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. still, there were moments when he’d pull back again, just when you thought he was starting to open up. it was like two steps forward, one step back, and you couldn’t tell if he was making progress or if he was just... stuck.

one evening, you found him out by the edge of the woods, crouched down as he checked a snare. the light was fading, and there was a chill in the air, but you walked over anyway, determined to keep trying.

“catch anything?” you asked, crouching beside him.

“nothin’ yet,” he replied, not looking at you.

“figured,” you said, glancing at him. “you okay?”

he shrugged. “fine.”

“you sure?” you pressed, watching him carefully. “you’ve seemed... off.”

he stilled, his jaw clenching. “ain’t nothin’,” he said, but there was something in his tone that gave him away. you could tell he wasn’t being honest.

“daryl,” you said softly, “if something’s wrong, you don’t have to keep it to yourself. i’m here for you, you know.”

“i know,” he grunted, finally glancing at you, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “just... ain’t used to talkin’ about stuff.”

“then don’t talk,” you said, your hand resting on his shoulder. “just... let me be here with you.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond, just kept his eyes on the snare in front of him. then, with a slow exhale, he straightened up, his shoulder brushing against yours. “fine,” he said quietly. “but don’t expect me to get all... sappy.”

you smiled at that, a little relieved that he hadn’t pushed you away this time. “wouldn’t dream of it,” you said lightly.

as the days passed, you continued to see glimpses of that softer side of him, though it was still wrapped up in that familiar gruffness. you caught him watching you sometimes, a look in his eyes like he was trying to figure something out. you didn’t push him, just let things be, and hoped he’d come around in his own time.

but then, just as you thought you were getting somewhere, he snapped again. it was over something small, some stupid disagreement about whether or not to go on a run for supplies. he was short with you, his words cutting sharper than usual, and it took everything in you not to snap back.

afterward, you found yourself retreating to your cell, wrapping your arms around yourself as you fought off the sting of rejection. you’d tried so hard to be patient, to give him space, but it felt like you’d been walking in circles. why did it always have to be so hard with him?

that night, you found yourself wandering out to the courtyard, needing some air. you hadn’t expected to run into him, but there he was, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the darkened landscape.

“what’re you doin’ out here?” he asked when he noticed you, his voice softer than before.

“could ask you the same thing,” you replied, not bothering to mask the hurt in your tone.

he shifted, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “look, about earlier,” he started, his voice gruff, “i didn’t mean to - ”

“yeah, i know,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear another half-hearted apology. “you didn’t mean to snap, you didn’t mean to push me away, you didn’t mean to make me feel like i don’t matter. i get it.”

daryl stiffened at your words, his jaw working as if he was trying to form a response but couldn't find the right one. his gaze dropped to the ground, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “ain’t like that,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “you do matter.”

“then why does it feel like you’re always pushing me away?” you asked, the hurt bleeding through in your voice. “it’s like one minute you’re letting me in, and the next, you’re shutting me out. i don’t know how to keep up with you.”

he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something vulnerable beneath the gruff exterior. “i ain’t good at... keepin’ people close,” he admitted, his voice rough. “always figured it was better to keep my distance.”

“better for who?” you asked, taking a step closer. “because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration evident in the tightness of his movements. “for you,” he mumbled. “don’t need someone like me weighin’ you down.”

you shook your head, your chest tightening at the realisation. “daryl, i’m not here because i need someone to make my life easier. i’m here because... because i care about you, okay? and it hurts when you act like you don’t care back.”

he was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. finally, he let out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “don’t know how to do this,” he said, the words coming out almost like a confession. “bein’ close to people... it don’t come natural to me.”

you took another step forward, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “then let me help you figure it out,” you said softly. “we don’t have to have it all figured out right now. just... don’t push me away.”

he looked down at your hand on his arm, his gaze softening in a way that was rare for him. “sorry,” he said again, his voice gruff but sincere. “for actin’ like an ass.”

you managed a small smile, relief washing over you. “it’s okay,” you said. “just... try not to do it so much.”

a quiet chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. “can’t promise that,” he admitted, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. “but i’ll try.”

you stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between you but feeling different now - less strained, more... comfortable. when you looked up at him, he was already watching you, his expression a little softer than usual.

“thanks,” you said quietly, not really knowing what else to say.

“don’t gotta thank me,” he replied, his tone gruff but lacking its usual edge. “just... don’t give up on me, alright?”

“never crossed my mind,” you said, and you meant it.

as the weeks passed, things continued to shift between you and daryl. there were still moments when he’d get snappy, but now, he’d usually apologize afterward, albeit in his own awkward way. sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you like he was still trying to figure out why you bothered sticking around, and you’d give him a reassuring smile to let him know you weren’t going anywhere.

one afternoon, as you sat in the courtyard, patching up an old jacket, you noticed daryl nearby, working on his bike. he kept glancing over at you, like he was debating whether or not to come over. eventually, he seemed to make up his mind, dropping his tools and walking over with his usual guarded expression.

“you busy?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“not really,” you replied, setting the jacket aside. “what’s up?”

he shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “just... wondered if you’d wanna go on a run with me tomorrow,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “could use the help.”

you raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “are you asking me to come along because you actually want my help, or because you’re trying to make up for being a jerk last week?”

he scoffed, but there was no real annoyance in it. “don’t push your luck,” he grumbled. “could just as easily ask someone else.”

“i’m kidding,” you said quickly, standing up. “i’d love to go.”

his expression softened, and he gave a short nod. “good,” he muttered. “be ready at first light.”

the next morning, you were up before dawn, and by the time daryl arrived, you were already waiting by the gates with your gear. he gave you a quick nod of approval before leading the way into the woods, his pace brisk but not hurried. you followed closely, glad for the chance to spend time with him outside the walls of the prison.

the run went smoothly, with only a couple of walkers to take down along the way. it wasn’t until you were on the way back that daryl finally spoke, his tone more casual than you’d heard it in a while. “you did good out there,” he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“thanks,” you replied, a little surprised by the compliment. “you weren’t too bad yourself.”

he huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “don’t get cocky,” he said, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

as you neared the prison, the conversation tapered off, and you found yourself wondering if things would go back to how they were before - if he’d retreat behind those walls he’d built around himself. but as you reached the gates, daryl turned to you, his expression more open than you’d ever seen it.

“thanks for comin’ along,” he said, his voice low. “meant a lot.”

“anytime,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “you know where to find me.”

he nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile before he turned and walked away. you watched him go, a quiet warmth spreading through your chest as you realised that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change.

over the next few days, daryl was around more often, seeking you out for small tasks or just sitting nearby while you worked. it was a subtle shift, but it felt significant. there were still moments when he’d snap at you, but now, it was easier to brush off, knowing that the softness was still there underneath.

one evening, you were sitting by the fire, lost in thought, when daryl came over and sat beside you. “whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked, his tone gruff but curious.

“nothing much,” you replied. “just... glad you’re here.”

he gave a quiet grunt in response, but you could see the way his eyes softened at your words. “yeah,” he said after a moment, “me too.”

you turned to him, a small smile on your lips. “i think you’re getting better at this whole ‘being close to people’ thing,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in them. “don’t push it,” he said, though his voice was light.

“fine,” you said, leaning back and letting the warmth of the fire wash over you. “but i’m proud of you, daryl.”

he looked at you, something like gratitude flickering in his gaze, and for a moment, there was nothing but quiet understanding between you. then he looked away, his usual gruffness returning. “you’re somethin’ else,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“guess that makes two of us,” you replied, nudging him playfully.

he didn’t respond, but a small, genuine smile graced his face.

the fire continued to crackle, casting flickering shadows across daryl. he was still beside you, closer than he’d been in a while, his usual distance melting away in the warmth of the moment. you couldn’t help but feel a quiet thrill at how his defences seemed to be crumbling bit by bit.

“you know,” you said softly, turning your head to look at him, “you’re not as tough as you let on.” there was a teasing lilt in your voice, but it held a hint of something deeper.

daryl’s eyes flicked to yours, narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge what you meant. “what’s that s’posed to mean?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

“just that... you’re not fooling anyone,” you continued, your voice dipping lower. “especially not me.” 

he held your gaze, something sparking in his eyes that hadn’t been there before - a quiet intensity that seemed to draw you in. you could feel the air between you growing heavier, charged with an unspoken question neither of you dared to voice.

“yeah?” he murmured, his voice gruff, but there was a softness underneath, a trace of uncertainty that told you he was letting his guard down just enough to let you in.

you leaned in slightly, closing the small distance between you, your gaze flickering to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “yeah,” you whispered. “you’re kind of sweet when you want to be, you know.”

he scoffed, but it came out almost breathless. “ain’t sweet,” he grumbled, though his eyes betrayed the way his breath hitched when you got closer.

“prove it,” you challenged, your voice barely audible, your breath mingling with his.

his expression tightened with something you couldn’t quite place - part hesitation, part longing, part frustration. then, in a quick movement, he cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in, his lips crashing against yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine. 

his kiss was demanding, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. his calloused fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go. you responded just as fiercely, your hands fisting in his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of him under your touch.

when he pulled back, it was only for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came out ragged. “this what you wanted?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the roughness edged with something raw and unguarded.

“maybe,” you breathed, your lips grazing his again, teasingly light. “or maybe i just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”

a growl rumbled in his throat, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his grip on you firm but not harsh, like he was trying to convey everything he didn’t know how to say. the heat between you intensified, and you found yourself arching into him, his hands trailing down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a silent promise, a raw confession of everything he’d kept bottled up. and when he finally drew back, his lips swollen and his gaze burning with something deep, you knew this was a turning point - one you wouldn’t come back from.

“damn troublemaker,” he muttered, but the words were rough with affection. his thumb brushed over your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture that sent your heart racing all over again.

“guess that makes two of us,” you whispered, echoing your earlier words as you leaned in to steal one last kiss, savouring the taste of him and the feeling of finally breaking through the walls he’d built.

general taglist : @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @icurushasfallen, @eddxemxnson, @nickiinator, @cable-kenobi

@chamomile-tea420, @rooroen, @spitfy, @cannon-writes, @platinumblondeedition

@cloudcandyala, @v3lv3tf0x, @california-boys-and-sun, @lemoanaid

@notacleangirl, @jabberwokee, @aetherthetrashpanda, @schrodingersjigsaw, @sylaswrites

@t0mmy-th3-gh0st, @correnz, @fvhs-things, @kallmeweirdhprroe, @dugiioh

@thugbiscuits, @rosiahills22, @cassehtwah, @whxtewolf, @mystcrium,

@bluevclvet, @angellreads, @babey-fruit-bat, @m1cky-y-y, @sunnykittyzz

reply to be added to the taglist!

[lacontroller1991]

Rumors (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: After you believed he was dead, it comes as a shock to you that he's alive and wrecking havoc.

Warnings: 18+, HEAVY LANGUAGE, drug usage, drinking, mention of cannibalism, violence, gun slinging, blood, nudity, fighting

Author's Note: I swear I'll work on my other requests but the Cooper Howard brain rot is REAL and its STRONG, anywho, first time so let me know how you guys like it :)

Word Count: 3k

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

In the wastelands of California, rumors get you killed and you’ve heard rumors. Whispers of his return. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Since he left you on your own in the middle of a gun fight to collect his bounty; and it nearly cost you your life. 

The last you’ve heard about him was that he was 6 feet deep and locked in a coffin with no way of escaping, unless someone purposely dug him out. Yet, you can’t think of a single person who would. Still, rumors spread like wildfire, and you’d be damned if you don’t try and get revenge.

-----------

The California sun beats down on your back. The heat weighs you down, but not as much as the pain in your chest. He let you believe that he cared about you. He really fooled you into a sense of partnership, romance, but you really should’ve known. Cooper Howard is a lone wolf, nothing and nobody will stand in his way. 

The site of Filly in the distance is a welcoming sight. If anyone has seen anything, it would have been here. It doesn’t take you long to cross the remaining distance, sweat dripping down your back as you enter the market. 

“Haven’t seen ya in a while (Y/N).” A local merchant snides with a creepy smile, showcasing his rotten teeth. Walking over to your side, he runs a hand down your arm and you resist the urge to gag. “What are ye in town for?” 

“Information.” You eye the stairs that are being fixed, along with other wooden structures, a signature sign that he’s been here.

“Looking for your Ghoul, huh?” His face is offly close to yours and it’s enough for you to draw your gun, casually pressing it into his side, causing him to instantly back off. “He was here two days ago. Got in a firefight with a knight, seemed like he was after a bounty.” You scoff. Of course he is. Anything for those damn vials. Vials. At the thought of vials a malicious smile forms on your face. Sooner or later, he will need to get more, and you’ll be there when he does. 

Holstering your gun, you flip him a bottle cap in appreciation before stalking off, heading to the one place you know he will be.

By the time the sun sets, you’re settled in an abandoned building, low enough to the ground where you can see what’s coming, but high enough to be out of any immediate danger. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you can’t help but to think about the times where you and him would be shoulder to shoulder, barely touching, but enough to make butterflies fly in your stomach.

Despite his ghoulish appearance, you find him to be quite handsome. His rugged cowboy exterior does barely enough to hide the last shred of humanity he has, and at times, it was directed towards you. With a sigh, you let your eyes shut, sleep easily consuming over you.

-----------

“Please, let me go.” A feminine voice stirs you from your unconsciousness as your eyes blink against the harsh light of the sun. “Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing you and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. You deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

Trying to listen to the conversation, you strain your ears but to no avail. Peeking over an abandoned car, you focus your eyes on the situation ahead of you, watching as he gestures for the girl to go through the sliding glass door. The minute they shut, he collapses on the ground and you resist the urge to go and help him. Sighing, you open the bag at your side, rummaging through a variety of equipment before your fingers run over the cool glass of the vials that keep him sane. “That’s just ironic,” you chuckle, looking back to him still laying on the ground, a slight tang of pity radiating through your chest. If there’s anything you hate about yourself, it’s that. You’re too soft for people who have no problem leaving you out to dry. 

You could confront him now, kick him while he’s down, but being dramatic is more fun. It’s useless trying to talk to him when he’s in that sorry state. 

An hour later and you’re still outside, covering from the sun and waiting for the right moment to make your appearance. The sight of the vaultie walking alone gathers your attention as you keep out of sight? Now how the hell did she manage to escape? You’re not an idiot, everyone and their mamas know that the SuperDuper Mart takes in bodies and harvests the organs, selling them to the highest bidder. So how on this God forsaken planet did she escape practically unscathed? As she walks further away you ponder the possibility that maybe you and everyone on the surface has really underestimated the ones who live below. 

Once she is out of sight, you rush out from your hiding spot and toward the mart, hoping to find him. “Well, he isn’t where I saw him last,” you huff out, drawing your gun from its holster as you walk through the glass door, keeping your eyes vigilant. With the mart being practically empty aside from overturned themed rides, it’s easy to hear a person stumbling around, knocking stuff over. 

By the time you spot him, his back is to you, head tipped slightly back as he downs a bottle of alcohol he found. The sound of you cocking your gun causes him to freeze in place, and if you were facing him, you would spot the smile on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” Your silence is deafening and you don’t move an inch, not really sure if you would actually shoot him or not.  “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna find me.”

“It’s pretty easy to find a drug addicted ghoul these days, especially ones that have a penchant for the dramatics.” You keep your gun trained on his back as he slowly turns around, dropping the glass bottle and letting it shatter to the floor. 

“Me? Dramatic? I don’t think I’m the dramatic one sweetheart. You’re the one who came in here, guns blazing. I think you’re the dramatic one.” He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until his chest is pressed right against the nozzle of your gun. “Now why don’t you put your gun down and give Coop a big ki-” your gun whacks across his face, tearing the flesh slightly only for it to heal right away, causing him to growl. His gloved hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, hoisting you against the wall while you struggle in his grasp. “That’s no way to greet me. Where are your manners?” He asks, his southern accent penetrating each word.

“Fucker,” raising a leg, you kick between his with all you can muster and spit on his face, the shock being enough to let you loose and allowing you to slip out. 

He looks at you for a second before laughing sadistically, using his thumb to collect your spit and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he was savoring it. “I missed you kitten.”

Scoffing, you holster your gun and take a seat on the couch, turning your attention to the tv where you spot a young, handsome, human Cooper Howard on the screen. “Really Coop? You’re that full of yourself?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he plops down next to you before taking another bottle and giving that a swig. “Was the only half decent shit in this hell hole,” at the mention of the place, you take a proper look around, bodies laying everywhere, some human, some ghoul, and even a robot.

“The fuck happened here?”

“Was traveling with a vault dweller, traded her for some vials but I guess she didn’t take too well to the idea of her organs being sold,” he comments nonchalantly, twisting off the cap of a vial and draining the liquid into his mouth while you look at him like he grew two heads. 

“You’re meaning to tell me that that vault dweller managed to do all this?”

“Did I stutter?” Now you know you really underestimated the people in the vaults. You honestly wonder if they’re all like this or is she just some random four leaf clover. “Why’d you come in here raisin hell anyway?”

Leaning back on the couch, you look forward to the tv, trying to concentrate on the handsome man on the screen instead of the one sitting next to you, “heard you were dead.”

“The details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Still doesn’t answer my question,” he looks at you with a look that says ‘I frankly don’t give a shit’ but something deep down inside of you tells you that he does. 

“I’m pissed as hell that you left me. I thought we were partners?” Rolling his eyes, he laps at a random white powder laying on the table before leaning back.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t see a need to stick around. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. Seemed like a fair trade.” 

A sigh escapes your mouth as you take the bottle from his one hand and downed it, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burns down your throat and lights a fire in your stomach. How can he be so naive? You had initially joined him when you were both after the same group of people, but for vastly different reasons. He had wanted the large bounty on the head of the leader and you wanted to find your past lover, but somewhere along the route to finding them you developed feelings for the Ghoul sitting next to you, and you thought he developed them too. You initially didn’t spot him when the shooting started, too occupied with the Ghoul pressing his back against yours, the two of you working in tandem. Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, you were the only one shooting back at the group of people, most of them lying dead and your companion nowhere to be seen. The bounty was also gone.

He had left you on your own and it hurt. It also didn’t help that once the shooting was over and you remained, you found your former lover in the arms of another. It’s true that you found who you wanted, but at what cost? Was it really your lover than you wanted or was it Cooper Howard, the Ghoul, who you wanted?

Realistically, you know the answer. It’s pretty obvious by the way that when you heard he was alive, you practically dropped everything in pursuit of him. Taking another swig of the alcohol you ponder over your next course of actions. Should you admit your feelings for him or should you leave it? Looking back at the tv, you watch the former Cooper Howard get down from his horse, gun in hand and hat tipped ever so slightly over his eyes, much like how the man next to you does. He’s never going to be the same man again, you know that, but maybe he still has the ability to love? “I love you, you know?”

Cooper looks over to you with a puzzled look on his face before it goes blank and your heart sinks. If there was any sort of superpower you could have right now, it would 100% be mind reading. “You’re stupid.” 

“Right. Yep. Totally.” You’re pissed. You took a gamble and lost. Laid your heart on the line only for it to be destroyed. Swallowing down your pride, you get up from your seat and holster your gun, taking a couple of vials for safe keeping. “Have a good life Coop.” You don’t bother turning back, tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he doesn’t return the feeling. You kick the dead body out of your way, too overwhelmed with your emotions to realize that he is calling your name. A hand wrapping around your wrist stirs you from your thoughts as he hand spins you around to face him, a soft look gracing his features.

“I ain’t finished,” it’s soft. Softer than anything you’ve ever heard from him but you yank your hand away, rebuilding the walls around your heart.

“I don’t wanna he-” he cuts you off with a rough kiss against your lips, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close as his scarred lips move against yours. The kiss is rough, demanding, but also loving, intimate. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Pulling away, he keeps you in his grasp as you look up at him through blown eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at. “Coop?”

“Shh darlin’. You didn’t let me finish. I said you’re stupid. Stupid for loving someone like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially you, you should know this.” You can tell by the restraint in his voice that he fully means what he’s telling you. Smiling softly, you dust off his duster and pull on his vest, straightening out his clothes as he watches you, not really sure what to make of your intentions. 

“Y’know, there was this one cowboy I met years ago and when I asked how he survived as long as he has and you know what he told me?”

“What’s that?”

“We take it as it comes.” He closes the bridge between the two of you with his mouth against yours, this time it’s more eager. Taking in your bottom lip, he bites hard enough to draw blood, causing you to gasp in surprise. Using that to his advantage, his tongue slips in, exploring every crevice of the mouth that he’s longed for.

“Well ain’t this sweet. We have a ghoul and a ghoulfucker. I wonder what that sex looks like,” you and Cooper pull away abruptly, you eye the three men in sheriff uniforms while Cooper scowls, annoyed by their presence. Moving towards them, Cooper raises his hands in false surrender while you get behind his back, one hand reaching for his shotgun and the other reaching for your own gun, ready to draw at any moment. 

“What can I do for you folks?” The three men eye each other before pointing their guns at Cooper, you still standing behind him, ready to take on each of them.

“Destroying a legitimate business? That’s illegal around these parts,” one speaks up, aviators covering his eyes as he moves around to get a better view of you. “My my, don’t tell me this pretty little thing did all this damage. Why don’t you raise your hands sweetheart, let’s see that gorgeous figure.” 

If looks could kill, that man would be 12 feet under and blasted to high heaven with the biggest nuke Cooper could find. “I’d be careful if I were you, she may be pretty, but she's also a pint sized atom bomb.” His head tilts, telling you all that you needed to know. Reaching for your gun, you quickly shoot the two companions as Cooper lunges for the man who dared to flirt with you. Kicking the gun away from reach, Cooper wraps his hand around the throat of the sheriff and hoists him in the air while you loot their supplies. Turning the men around, you cut their pants off, leaving their backside exposed for Cooper to take his fair share of ass jerky. The man in his grasp squirms at the site of his counterparts being exposed, but Cooper’s grip doesn’t falter.

“Why are you sick freaks doing this?” The man continues to struggle in Cooper’s grasp, hands trying to claw away at skin but to no avail as you load your gun, sliding over to the duo. 

“Wanna do the honors sweetheart?” It’s rare that Cooper offers anybody anything, let alone a kill and it takes you a minute to process his proposal.

“We do this for the love of the game.” A gunshot rings out while the man goes limp in Cooper’s hand, brains splattered on the floor below you. Dropping the man, Cooper’s eyes flit to your body, chest rising and falling as you come off the adrenaline high. 

“Now that was hot as hell sweetheart. You sure know how to make an impression on an old man.” 

“Is that right?”

“‘m afraid so.” His eyes watch as you begin to unbuckle your armor, letting it fall from your frame to the floor.

“Then come and get me cowboy.”

@reveluving

[urdreamydoodles]

Wolverine x Fem!Reader

Jealousy

Logan struggles to understand the unfamiliar feelings he has toward you, a kind-hearted and beautiful mutant loved by everyone at Xavier’s School. As jealousy simmers beneath the surface, he eventually realizes that you’ve had your heart set on him all along.

Logan watches you from the corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest, trying not to scowl. You’re smiling, as always, laughing at something Gambit said, your eyes glowing with warmth. It’s a look that seems to be meant for everyone around you—but never for him.

He grunts, glancing away, trying to shake the feeling that's been gnawing at him for days. It’s ridiculous, really. Why should he care that every single guy in the mansion seems to orbit around you like you’re the sun?

You’re a teacher at Xavier’s now, like him. A mutant whose powers are as impressive as they are mysterious, though no one seems to care much about that. The way everyone talks about you, they’re more focused on how sweet you are, how you have a way of making anyone feel at ease, even in a place full of battle-hardened mutants.

And you’re... well, Logan’s never really put much stock into beauty, but there’s no denying that heads turn when you walk into a room. The sight of you, with your gentle smile and graceful movements, draws attention whether you intend it to or not. It’s irritating how many men around the mansion make fools of themselves trying to get you to notice them. Gambit, with his endless charm. Angel, always hovering around with those damn wings. Nightcrawler, with his shy smiles and sweet words.

It shouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t get jealous. He’s Logan, for crying out loud. Wolverine. He’s been through too much, seen too much, to be worried about a pretty face.

But here he is, in the back of the room, glaring at Gambit like the Cajun just insulted him. Which he hasn’t. Not yet, at least.

You say something to Gambit, and his grin grows wider. He leans in closer to you, brushing a hand against your arm like he’s always been allowed to touch you that way. Logan feels his fingers twitch, an unfamiliar anger rising in his chest.

Get a grip, Logan, he tells himself, gritting his teeth.

“Logan?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, soft and warm, and suddenly you’re standing in front of him, looking up at him with those bright eyes of yours. He didn’t even notice you walking over.

He clears his throat, straightening. “What?”

You give him that smile, the one that knocks the breath out of everyone around here. “I’ve been trying to say hi all day. You’ve been avoiding me?”

Logan huffs, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. “Ain’t avoiding you. Just busy.”

“Busy glaring at Gambit?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. It’s like you can see right through him, and that makes him all the more uncomfortable.

“I wasn’t—” Logan stops himself. Damn it, you’re too good at this. “What do you want?”

You tilt your head slightly, your expression softening. “You alright, Logan? You seem... off.”

“Off?” He frowns, his brow furrowing. How are you always so perceptive? He should be better at hiding this. Hell, he’s had centuries of practice keeping people at arm’s length, but with you, it’s like you’ve been cutting through that barrier since the day you arrived.

You reach up, laying a gentle hand on his arm. Your touch is soft, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to flinch—not because he doesn’t like it, but because it sends a jolt through him. Like something raw and unexplainable stirring in his chest.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you say softly. “I’m here if you need anything.”

There’s no pity in your voice, no patronizing tone. Just genuine concern, like you actually care about how he’s doing. It confuses him. He’s used to people being wary of him, keeping their distance. But not you. Never you.

Logan shifts, feeling the weight of your hand on his arm, and glances away, unable to meet your eyes. “Ain’t nothing to talk about.”

You give him a small smile, dropping your hand, but not stepping back. “Alright. But if you change your mind, I’m around.”

You turn to walk away, back toward Gambit, who’s still waiting for you. And Logan feels something sharp twist in his gut.

Before he can stop himself, he reaches out, grabbing your wrist gently. “Wait.”

You pause, turning back to him with a curious expression. “Yeah?”

Logan hesitates, his grip loosening slightly. He’s not good at this—never has been. Words fail him more often than not, and emotions? Well, he doesn’t like dealing with those either.

But the thought of you going back to Gambit, of you laughing with him again, letting him get close to you... Logan doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

“I—” He struggles to find the right words, his jaw tightening. What the hell is wrong with him? “I don’t like... seein’ you with all those other guys.”

Your eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across your face. “What do you mean?”

Logan lets out a low growl of frustration, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like it when they’re all over you. Gambit, Angel, all of ‘em. They act like you’re some... prize or somethin’.”

You blink, clearly not expecting that. “Logan, they’re just being friendly. We’re all close here.”

“Yeah, well, they’re too damn friendly.” The words come out harsher than he intends, and he curses under his breath. He didn’t mean to sound possessive, but that’s exactly what it sounds like. He doesn’t even know why he’s saying this. What’s it to him if you like Gambit or Angel?

But the thought of you being with someone else, of you smiling at them the way you smile at him, makes something ugly twist inside him.

You look at him for a long moment, as if trying to piece together what’s going on in his head. And then, to his surprise, you smile—really smile. Not the polite kind you give everyone else, but something softer, more real.

“Logan,” you say gently, taking a step closer. “Are you... jealous?”

He bristles immediately, his face hardening. “Jealous? Hell no. I don’t get jealous.”

“Uh-huh.” Your smile widens slightly, and for a moment, Logan swears he can see a hint of amusement in your eyes. “You sure about that?”

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath, unable to come up with a proper response. Damn it, how did you manage to get under his skin so easily?

“Logan,” you say again, softer this time. “If you want to talk, I’m here. You don’t have to keep pushing me away.”

Logan feels his heart clench, the sincerity in your voice throwing him off balance. He’s not used to this—to someone actually caring. Especially someone like you.

“I just don’t like sharin’,” he mutters finally, his voice gruff. “That’s all.”

You tilt your head, stepping even closer so that you’re standing right in front of him. “Sharing what?”

Logan swallows hard, his gaze flicking away from yours. “You.”

The word hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, Logan wonders if he’s crossed a line. If he’s said too much. But instead of pulling away, you smile, your eyes softening.

“You don’t have to share me, Logan,” you say quietly. “I’m not interested in Gambit or Angel. Or anyone else for that matter.”

His gaze snaps back to yours, surprise flickering across his face. “What?”

“I’m saying,” you continue, your voice gentle but firm, “if you want my attention, you’ve already got it. You always have.”

Logan stares at you, his mind racing to process your words. You... what? How long has he been trying to figure out what the hell he’s feeling, only to find out that you’ve felt the same way this whole time?

He lets out a low, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You laugh softly, stepping even closer, until you’re almost pressed against him. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, Logan lets his guard down, just a little. He reaches out, resting a hand on your waist, and looks down at you, his voice low and rough. “You sure about this?”

You nod, your eyes meeting his with unwavering certainty. “I’m sure, Logan.”

And just like that, the tension that’s been building between you for what feels like ages finally breaks. Logan pulls you closer, his grip tightening on your waist, and for once, he lets himself be honest with what he wants.

You.

Only you.

[atinylittlepain]

i need joel x f! reader friends to lovers 😩🫶🏻

i took this and ran with it

Birds of a Feather

joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

joel has met his match, and though he's trying to keep things platonic, his brother has other plans for him.

warnings | 18+ smut, drunk tommy miller requires his own warning, angst, and a little fluff

wordcount: 4.1K

................................

Joel Miller has finally met his match, and he knows it. He had balked at it initially, when Tommy assigned him to patrol with some woman. But it wasn’t just some woman. Folks around town call her Sunshine, a running joke since she’s anything but. He didn’t know anyone could be more standoffish than him, but that first shift together, the steel in her stare and the tick of her jaw had thrown any of his ideas about her right out the window. Is it any wonder they became friends so fast?

He doesn’t like to talk much, she doesn’t either.

He has a dry sense of humor, but hers has to be even drier. 

She refuses to suffer fools, and he enjoys watching her put men in their place.

He’s slow to thaw toward people, and so is she, both of them melting in each other’s presence.

Where he’s from Texas, she’s from Tennessee, the remnants of their drawls twining up in easy conversation.

He likes a stiff glass of whiskey at the end of the day, and she’s always game to join him.

But maybe one of the things he likes best is that while he’s good at pool, she’s fucking great at it, and he doesn’t mind getting his ass handed to him on Friday nights at the bar, not when it’s her doing the handing.

“Are you asleep, Miller? Or are you really just that bad at pool?” Her grin flickers under the dim lights of the Tipsy Bison, and he knows that it’s a sight not many people get to see. She cocks her head to the side, spinning her cue stick lightly in her hand as she smirks at him.

“Easy, darlin, gonna make you eat those words one of these days.” She’s not Sunshine, not to him, he refuses to call her what everybody else does. She had confessed to him once, on a long patrol shift, that she hated the nickname, but was too proud to ever say anything about it. In turn, Joel had told her about how growing up, Tommy managed to get everyone at their highschool to start calling him “Skip,” something he hadn’t told anyone in close to thirty years. His residual embarrassment had been worth it to see her smile in that moment, and it was about then that Joel realized he had made a certified friend. Though everyone else seems convinced that something a little more is going on.

“Shit.” He completely scratches his next turn, sending the cue ball right into one of the pockets as she snickers.

“What was that about me eating my words?” He’s distracted, just a little, but who could blame him when she’s wearing a pair of cut-offs that should be illegal and a tank top that turns downright obscene when she leans over the table for her own turn. So maybe there is something a little more going on, but it’s one sided, he reckons, and he’s not about to fuck up the first friendship he’s cared about in years just because he’s thinking with his dick. But, apparently, that’s not the only thing he has to worry about.

“Well, howdy, if it ain’t Jackson’s favorite tag team, frick and frack.” Joel hasn’t seen Tommy this drunk in decades. The town council had been celebrating that night, though he’s not quite sure what. Regardless, Tommy is sloshed as he loops and arm over Joel’s shoulders, a lazy grin on his face as he looks between him and her.

“Joel, Sunshine. How are we this fine evening?” While she snorts at his slurred-out question, Joel is less than amused, shrugging his brother off of him with a huff.

“Touchy, touchy, big brother. What’s got your panties in a twist? Did you break his heart already, Sunshine?” Joel can feel his face blanch at Tommy’s drawling words, glancing between him and her. While she’s still smiling, the crease between her brows suggests she’s as thrown off as Joel is.

“What’re you on about, little Miller?” Tommy lets out a hoot of a laugh at her question, leaning up against the pool table and grinning at her.

“What I’m on about is the sweet little crush this big guy right here has on you. It ain’t healthy, really, Joel’s got it bad for you.” If they weren’t related by blood, Tommy wouldn’t have teeth in his head by now, but instead, Joel settles for letting his jaw all but drop to the floor as he looks between his giggling brother and her. She doesn’t look so amused anymore.

“It’s true! Ain’t seen his eyes get like that in a long time, those big ol’ puppy dogs of his are for you and you only, Sunshine.” Before the horror of it all can really settle in, Tommy sighs, slapping Joel on his shoulder and shuffling off with a low murmured “where’s Maria?”

Her eyes are wide when he finally looks at her, lips parted, complete bewilderment splashed across her face. And before she can say anything, Joel is turning heel and booking it out of there before everything comes crumbling down around him.

…

She’s stunned. By the whole thing really. Tommy’s ridiculous musings, the way that Joel didn’t deny any of it, and then the way he booked it out of the bar like he wanted nothing to do with her. She wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that her night was going to turn out like this. Not that she would tell anyone, but she loves Friday nights, pool nights, when she gets to spend just a little more time with Joel than usual. So for it to turn so sour so fast, she finds herself at a loss, clutching her cue stick in her hands, stuck standing where Joel left her.

There’s no two ways about it, she likes him. Things feel easy around him. She hadn’t met anyone else in town who she could talk to like she can him. He gets it, being on the road, not always having a warm place to sleep, what it means to kill. They’ve both seen a far different life than the one they’re living now, and talking to him makes her feel a little less crazy. And yes, maybe she also likes the strong cut of his jaw, the way his deep brown eyes crinkle up when she talks to him, the broad span of his shoulders, and how he squares them up when she challenges him. You could call it a crush, but she’d call it stupid, something that would only ruin the friendship, the one big good in her life, that she has with him. 

But now all bets are off. She’s got nothing to lose, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get the truth from him.

She knows him well enough by now to have a pretty good idea of where he stomped off to, and she doesn’t waste any more time standing around with a dumb look on her face, heading out of the bar and into the hazy light of the summer evening.

There’s a bench tucked away behind the stables, partially hidden by a small thicket of trees. A while ago, they had set it as their meeting place before patrol shifts, always getting there a few minutes early to set a plan for the day, or just to talk quietly before they had to head out. She had caught him there a few times on their days off too, an easy slump in his posture, his arms stretched out over the back of the bench. He told her he liked the quiet of it, and when she attempted to apologize for intruding, he had said that she couldn’t bother him if she even tried. It’s where she finds him now, his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands, though his eyes jerk up when she clears her throat.

“We gonna talk about what just happened?” He lets out a long sigh, sitting back on the bench and squinting up at her.

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh, c’mon, Joel. You know I’m not gonna let this go, not until you talk to me.” With that, he gets up from the bench with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t have anything to say, except I’m sorry that my brother is such a fucking idiot.” She calls after him as he trudges away, but it’s no use, he doesn’t so much as look back over his shoulder at her. Knowing him as well as she does, she can easily tell when it’s time to stop prodding, when he’s shutting down and she won’t be able to get anything out of him, so she drops it, at least for now. 

She knows that they’re going to have to face whatever this is eventually, most likely the next morning when they’re set for a patrol shift together. With the hope of a clearer conversation on the horizon, she goes home, her mind still spinning from the strange evening. She lays awake in bed with her thoughts, the only conclusion she reaches being that she just wants the truth now, knowing that there will be no going back to the way things were, regardless of what he has to say.

When she gets to the bench the next morning, eyes bleary from a night without sleep, it becomes clear that Joel is going to make this more difficult than it has to be, as he is nowhere to be found. And he doesn’t show up either, not even when it’s time for their shift and she’s mounting up at the stables. She lets out a bitter laugh, though, when she sees who does show up.

“Did he send you down here?” Tommy huffs, leaning up against the door to the stables with a sheepish grin.

“Would you be less pissed at him if I said he didn’t?” 

“What? He ask for a new patrol partner already?” She knows it sounds harsh, but she doesn’t care, anger starting to feel like the appropriate response for how childish Joel seems to be acting. Tommy just sighs.

“Look, Sunshine, I feel awful for what I said last night. I was so fucking drunk I didn’t know up from down. But it’s true what I said. Reckon he thinks you hung the moon in the sky or some shit.” That makes her pause, but she stifles the kick of her heart with another scoff.

“What’s your point, Tommy? I have a shift to cover.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Huh?” Tommy lets out a breathy laugh at her furrowed look.

“I’m covering your shift– figure I owe you both for messing shit up so bad. I got a buddy of mine coming down in a few to patrol with me, but you’re off the hook. And I think you oughta go talk to him.” 

“Joel made it pretty clear last night that he didn’t have anything else to say.” Tommy’s frown deepens at her clipped words, and he takes a few steps into the stables, leveling a surprisingly serious look at her.

“My brother is a stubborn ass, I won’t deny that. He doesn’t really like people, or feelings for that matter. But I know him well enough to see that he’s different around you. And maybe it’s selfish of me to say this, but you’re good for him, and I’ll be damned if the only reason you two don’t wind up together is my big fucking mouth.” His words stun her silent long enough for him to step forward and place a hand on her shoulder.

“Just go talk to him, please? If anyone can get through to him it’s you.”

…

He has to admit to himself that he was hoping, just a little bit, that it’d be her knocking on his front door, his chest tightening when he sees that it is. Though she doesn’t seem all too pleased to be looking at him, her arms crossed over her chest and an edgy arch to her brow.

“We gonna talk like adults now? Or are you gonna keep sending little Miller to do your bidding?” He knows this tone of voice. It’s the way she speaks to people, usually men, that she’d rather not give the time of day to. He’s always been amused by it, the stiff jerk of her chin, the eerie calm of her words. But it’s never been directed at him before, and suddenly there’s nothing amusing about it. 

“I– yeah, yes. Let’s talk.” Real smooth, dumbass. She doesn’t wait for him to open the door any wider, brushing right past him and into his living room before turning on her heel to look at him.

“Well, there’s no real way around this, is there?” Her question hangs between them, a drooping thread threatening to snap, though even now, they still move comfortably around each other, sitting down on opposite ends of the couch and mirroring each other’s posture, elbows on thighs, heads tilted toward the other. 

“Where do you wanna start, darlin?” She huffs out a laugh, more like an exasperated sigh as she looks at him, the steel gone, only a quirked worry left in its place.

“The truth– I want you to tell me the truth, Joel– about what Tommy said last night.” He figures he’s got nothing to lose at this point. That either way, whether he’s straight with her or not, their friendship isn’t ever going to be the same, so he takes a deep breath, and lets the words come rushing out. 

“He wasn’t wrong– I mean, what he said? It’s true, I feel– I, uh– I like the way I feel? When I’m around you? And, um– Jesus christ, what I’m trying to say is– I feel very– fondly toward you.” He’d like to disappear now, to dissolve and slip down beneath the floorboards so she’ll stop smiling at him like he just made a complete fool of himself, because he did. 

“You feel fondly toward me, huh?” And now she’s making fun of him, a light laugh on her lips as he grumbles at her question. But she’s quick to catch his despairing spiral, scooting over and placing a hand on his knee. 

“I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to tease. But for the record, the feeling’s mutual.” Oh. He can feel his eyebrows shoot up at her words, and her grin broadens at his reaction.

“You mean– you– what’s that word? You mean platoni–” She’s kissing him. She’s kissing him and his brain is going blank but he doesn’t need to think, not really, moving like he knows, like he’s been waiting for this. She’s as stubborn as he is, and it shows in the way they struggle against each other, pulling on clothes to get closer, teeth clashing just a bit as she slips into his lap, pushing him back against the couch as he drags her as close as he can. When she does pull away, he doesn’t let her go far, his hand holding her steady by the hilt of her neck, breathless and smiling.

“No, I don’t mean platonically. Not at all.” And then she’s kissing him again, and it’s quickly becoming his favorite feeling, though the way her hips are pressed up against his is a close second. Joel is starting to realize that they share a few other things in common as well.

They both have a hard time keeping quiet, his low groans mixing and mingling with the pitchy sighs she looses in between kisses.

And they both seem to want to get impossibly closer, his nose mashing up against the slope of her cheek as she winds her arms over his shoulder blades, holding him chest to chest.

Where he tries to get the upper hand, licking into her mouth, squeezing at the swell of her thighs, she just does the same, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him just how she wants him as she ducks down to mouth at the arc of his neck.

Where he demands more, she’s happy to give, and to take in turn.

How they make it up the stairs and into his bedroom is beyond him, greedy hands peeling away clothes on the way up, leaving a trail of desire that they’ll have to trace later. 

She’s strong, just as strong as him, and she likes control, just as much as him, handily flipping them around on the bed so that she’s straddling him once again, leaving him wide-eyed and breathless at the sight of her. He’s got scars, and she does too, their hands running over the silvery marks, prayers that there won’t have to be anymore. Her bare cunt is a hot drag over his pelvis, and he’d like more than anything for her to shift her hips just a little lower, a little closer. But instead she ducks her head down, eyes flickering up to his as she lays a smear of kisses over his chest that begin to trail lower until she’s kneeling between his spread thighs. Joel thinks he just might die as he watches her spit into her hand before wrapping her palm around his throbbing cock, a hiss spilling between his teeth as she deftly sweeps her wrist up, her thumb swiping over his slit to smear the pooling pre-come there down his length.

“S’pretty, Joel. Prettier than I imagined.” He can’t help but groan at her words, scrunching his eyes shut and pressing his head back into the sheets.

“You– fuck– you thought about this, darlin? About me?” She smiles at his question, her lips just grazing the underside of him.

“Mmhmm, thought about you a lot. About this. We’re so alike, you and I. I couldn’t help but think that if anyone would be able to handle me, it’d be you.” And with that, she licks a salacious stripe up his length before taking him into the heat of her mouth.

“Christ– I  can– can handle you, darlin. Handle you however you want me to– fuck, that mouth of yours is a dream.” She hums at his praise, the vibration shooting straight down his cock as she bobs her head. It’s messy as hell, the slick sound of spit, her palm pressed flat against his stomach to hold him still, the drag of her tongue along his length, and the way her eyes stay on him, hooded and hazy under her lashes. 

“Thought about you too, y’know, like-like this.” His words make her stop for a moment, pulling off of him with a sigh, her hand picking up where she left off.

“And? Am I living up to your expectations?” Her words are lilted by her grin, and the sight of her lazily stroking his cock, her head tilted as she looks at him is nearly too obscene to be real.

“S’better– you’re so much better– fucking perfect.” It’s like he realizes all of a sudden how bad he wants to touch her, and then it’s all he wants, all he needs, coaxing her back up to meet in a kiss before rolling them over, swallowing the peel of laughter she lets out as he hovers over her. 

He wants to be the only one who gets her like this, the only one to hear her sighs, soft and melty in his sheets, sweet only for him as he swipes his fingers through her folds, dragging her pooling slick up to draw circles over her clit.

“So wet for me, darlin. S’just for me, huh?” Her chin jerks in a nod, whatever control she had now held in his hands, her hips canting up into his palm. 

“Just for you, Joel. All for you– please.” She doesn’t have to say anymore, he knows what she wants because it’s what he wants too. More. He presses two fingers inside of her, unable to stifle the groan he lets out at the feel of her cunt clenching around him, muffling the sound with a drag of kisses across her chest. She keens up into his touch, back arching when he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, tongue laving over the peak before letting his teeth just barely graze the delicate skin. And he learns her, all of her, the dips and swells of her body, the spot he can press against inside her that makes her brow crumple, the scrape of her nails down his back, the little whimpers she tries to silence, biting down on her lip, the way she tightens around his fingers when she’s close, and the broken sound of his name on her lips when she finally unravels for him, panting and twisting in pleasure. 

“That’s it, darlin. Feels good, huh? I did good for you?” Maybe it’s a little selfish, what he asks, but she’s happy to answer anyways.

“So good– did so good for me, Joel. Fuck, I really want you, baby.” He can feel the heat flushing up his face at her words, his mind going dizzy with the praise, and all he can do is give her what she wants, slotting his hips against hers and notching his leaking tip at her entrance. 

It’s unreal, it’s gotta be, the way she spreads open around him, close and pliant, her knee hitched up along his waist as he presses into her, both of them sighing at the stretch. For a moment, they’re still, just feeling each other, pressed so close, sweat-damp skin sticking from the contact, choppy exhales cooling down their shared heat. And then, Joel learns that they have something else in common. They both like their pleasure with just a tinge of pain.

It starts slow, the rock of his hips into hers, but she makes it clear with the press of her heel into his low back and her hand tugging in his hair that slow is the last thing she wants, and Joel is more than happy to oblige. The thump of the headboard against the wall, the slap of skin, harsh grunts and crackling moans twine around them, wrapping them up in a desperate symphony with each harsh grind of his hips against hers. 

He wants to leave marks, wants her to remember this when she runs her hands over the bruises he leaves, a purple and blue mosaic of where he touched her, where he wanted her most. And she seems intent on the same goal, nails scratching down his shuddering back, pulling him closer so she can mouth at his neck, her teeth nipping just a touch unkindly, making his eyes roll back from the sharp suggestion of pain. 

“Fuck, darlin– made just for me, huh? So good like this– wanna feel you like this– want you to gimme another one. Be so good for me, honey, c’mon.” 

…

All she wants is him. The hot drag of his cock inside her, his hips mashing up against hers, the heavy grip of his hand cupping her ass, pulling her hips up to meet his. His scruff, scraping against her chest, lips a smudge against her skin, each grunt a vibration that runs through her bones. The way he keeps her head from hitting the headboard with his forearm protectively curled there, holding himself up just enough to move his hips against hers, to look at her when she comes for a second time, spasming around him.

She feels like liquid beneath him, undone by pleasure, only vaguely aware of the breathy chant of please, please leaving her lips with each exhale. But he knows what she’s asking for, and Joel gives it to her, pulling out with a groan, his spend smearing across her heaving stomach as he pants over her. He flops down onto his stomach next to her with a sigh, one arm slung heavy over her waist, turned on his cheek to look at her. 

“Get you cleaned up in a minute– just need to not move right now– shit.” She has to laugh at his breathless exclamation, catching the crook of his grin out of the corner of her eye before turning onto her side to get a better look at him. Hair wild, sticking up all which ways, and cheeks flushed under his altogether boyish smile, she can’t help but lean in for a kiss that he gives up willingly to her. 

“Remind me again why we waited so long to do that?” That makes him laugh, squeezing her hip to pull her closer as he turns onto his side

“Because I was an idiot.” She hums at his answer, brushing his hair back out of his face before letting her palm settle along his scruff.

“It takes two, we were both idiots.” 

“Some pair we make, huh, darlin?” 

Some pair indeed.

[pedrointofolklore]

This is me trying

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel hated you. he hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. he hated how much he worried about you. click here for part two.

warnings: detailed depictions of depression, heavily implied suicidal ideation, slight violence, angst with a sprinkle of fluff, no explicit smut but it does get very suggestive (minors do not interact), minor character death, enemies to lovers, poor communication, misunderstandings, these fools don’t know how to act, joel is an asshole but then he’s sweet, brief mention of drug use, lots of swearing, age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, boston era/ellie era.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: hey y’all. i just wanted to thank everyone who supported my last story rosebud (here’s a link if you want to read it). this story is a lot different and a lot sadder. i got the title from my favourite pop girlie taylor alison swift.

Joel hated you. It had to be his worst kept secret.

You hadn’t done anything to him. You used to think about it constantly, desperate to know what his reason was for despising you like he did, but you eventually accepted that he didn’t need a reason. He just didn’t like you. 

Joel wasn’t particularly likeable himself. He was rude and intimidating and one of the most morally bankrupt people you’d ever met, but you didn’t hate him the way he hated you. You were Tess’s lackey—Joel tolerated you, and you supposed he wasn’t obligated to do any more than that. Although, he didn’t do it very well.

You’d existed in each other’s orbit in the QZ for a while, and finally met one night in the boarded-up old mall when you’d gotten to a stash of painkillers just before them. Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you between the eyes if Tess hadn’t been there.

Tess saw something in you—not a friend, not a life worth sparing by virtue of humanity; a business investment.

And it was a smart investment. You were young, agile and clever, incredible at slipping by unnoticed and gathering information. You knew all the best routes, the best times to take them, and you could swindle anyone out of their rations just by batting your eyelashes. You were willing to take the lead, to be the first one in and out to make sure the coast was clear.

It wasn’t the threat of death or the promise of mercy that made you join them—it was the sense of purpose it gave you.

Joel was adamantly against it. Things worked fine the way they did them, and he saw no reason to add another person into it.

“Don’t need to fix something that ain’t broken,” was how he’d put it.

You didn’t dispute that. Joel and Tess had survived for years, and they were clearly more than capable of getting the job done, but what you lacked in experience, you made up for in stealth and speed—something their aging knees struggled with.

Tess convinced Joel, which you soon found out she was very good at. You also found out that his compliance didn’t mean hiding his resentment.

He thought you were a careless, impulsive loose cannon, and he’d told you so after a particularly dicey deal with a particularly dicey FEDRA agent.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” He followed you into your apartment uninvited. Tess made him walk you home, and you were sure he only did it because he wanted to berate you.

“Why do you care?” you asked, tossing your keys onto the counter. They slid off and hit the floor.

“You’re with us,” Joel replied. “You'll get us killed.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes—you knew that infuriated him. “Am I on crack or have you not doubled your profits since I showed up?”

“I think you’re dangerous,” Joel said, ignoring you. “Always sneakin’ around, goin’ places you shouldn’t, playin’ mind games with FEDRA. Your luck’s gonna run out sooner or later, and I just hope I’m not around when it does.”

Your face burned with red-hot anger as you tried to fight the stinging in your eyes and the blurring of your vision, but you were too far gone. The tears fell, and they were ceaseless. You felt pathetic, but you knew this would happen. You didn’t often cry from sadness or pain, but anger always managed to bring it out in you.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?” you hissed. “You’re saying you don’t sneak around? You’ve never scammed anyone? You’re a smuggler, Joel! Be fucking real with me.”

“It’s different,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“Why, because you’re older? Because you have more experience?”

“‘Cause I don’t think I’m fuckin’ special.”

If his words were the dagger, the pure contempt in his tone was what plunged it into your stomach, twisted it, and left a gaping hole for all of your despair to come pouring out of, leaving behind a puddle of melancholia for him to gaze at in all its miserable glory.

It was the only time you might have hated Joel as much as he hated you. Working with him and Tess wasn’t perfect, but it was all you had, and now he’d managed to make it all meaningless. Your help wasn’t helping.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you spat.

You should have quit then, and you thought about it. After pounding your fists into Joel’s chest and screaming at him to get the fuck out of your apartment, you sunk down onto the floor and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears and were left with a nothing but a throbbing headache. You took a pill, passed out, and woke up to you discover that you’d lost the energy to really care about any of it.

You didn’t quit. If anything, you became even more audacious, but you never confused it with courage or bravery. Bravery was perseverance in the face of terror. Joel and Tess were brave. You weren’t like them.

Joel laid off after that. He wasn’t anything close to nice, but whatever animosity he held towards you was only ever expressed as quiet seething, and you could live with that.

Any fulfilment you got out of working with Joel and Tess dissolved, but for what it was, it still worked.

Until it didn’t.

Tess was dead. The buffer between you and Joel was gone, and you had no choice but to work together and get the immune girl to Wyoming.

You wondered if there was a silver-lining in this wreckage. You thought that circumstance might force Joel to finally get along with you, and so you did the one thing you never did—you tried. You tried to help him, tried to speak to him like he was someone you actually wanted to speak to, tried to rein in some of your more annoying traits so you wouldn’t get on his nerves.

None of it worked. All you could get out of Joel seemed to be irritated mumbles and blank stares, and you couldn’t even blame him after what happened to Tess.

You never really knew if Tess actually gave a shit about you, or if she only ever cared about having an extra pair of hands around. Either way, you cared about her.

So, once again, you tried. When Joel and Ellie were sleeping—or at least pretending to—you walked down to the stream and tried to cry for her, but you couldn’t muster the tears. You even tried to get angry, mentally cuss her out for leaving you behind, but your eyes were dry.

You stared into the water, gazing at the way it sparkled in the starlight, and thought that the world didn’t deserve such a pretty sight. You couldn’t cry, but a deep sadness overtook you, weighing you down like lead.

Joel didn’t hate you.

He just hated how impulsive and reckless you were. He hated that you were smart, intuitive, and so maddeningly beautiful. He hated the risks you took, the danger you put yourself in, the total lack of value you had for your own life. He hated how much he worried about you.

There was a time he had disliked you. He used to think it was arrogance—that you truly believed you were so special that you could get away with anything. It was when he called you out on it that he realised how wrong he was.

Your reaction was frightening. You cried and screamed at him, pushed him out of your space. He didn’t know you were capable of such a strong display of emotion, but he’d struck a nerve, and those were the repercussions.

He recalled how the blows to his chest didn’t hurt, like there was no force behind them. You weren’t weak at all, you just couldn’t find the willpower to really hurt him. He wished you had hurt him. Maybe getting it out of your system would have helped. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to feel so guilty.

It became so obvious to him what was happening, and he felt like an idiot for not understanding it sooner. It wasn’t that you thought you were special, or immune to the consequences—you just didn’t care what happened to you.

Now Tess was gone, and he had this horrible feeling that he was going to lose you too.

His way of dealing with it was to push you away even more. He told himself it would make things easier when you inevitably left him.

Things came to a head one night after the three of you left Lincoln. Joel had been driving all day, and he would be doing it again the next day. He was in desperate need of sleep, but as he stared out into the eerie darkness of the woods, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible would happen if he didn’t stay awake.

He heard the rustling of a sleeping bag sometime after midnight. He thought it was you just rolling over in your sleep—something you often did—but then he heard the faint sound of dead leaves crunching under feet, and you were by his side a moment later.

“What are you doing, Joel?” you asked in a soft, sleepy voice that made his chest ache.

“Keepin’ watch,” he replied bluntly.

“But you’re driving tomorrow,” you said. “You need sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve slept, so I can take over,” you offered.

“I just told you I’m fine.”

“I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

You backed off, hanging your head in shame, and he instantly felt horrible—you were being nice to him and he was still being a complete asshole.

Joel tried to tear his gaze away from you. He wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that he hadn’t just done that, but his eyes stayed on you. He watched the shame dissolve and replace itself with indignation. You pulled your head up and glared at him with a fire in your eyes that threatened to burn right through him.

“I get it, okay? I’m sorry.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I never meant for you to get stuck with me. I know it’s your worst fucking nightmare. If I could switch places with Tess—“

“Stop.” He wouldn’t hear that. He couldn’t. It would kill him. “That’s not—I’m not thinkin’ that. I’m glad you’re here, understand? I need you with me.”

You let out a bitter laugh. The sound hit his ears like a gunshot. “You just told me you didn’t. All you’ve done—all you’ve ever done—is act like I’m a fucking waste of space.”

Joel’s mouth when dry, his heart dropped to his stomach, and he thought he might vomit. It shouldn’t have shocked him like it did, but hearing you say it made him sick. He put the gun he’d been clutching down on the ground, disarming himself in more ways than one. “I don’t think that…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just—fuck—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Are you gonna leave?”

“Leave this mission or this mortal coil?"

“Either, I guess.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Your voice was just a whisper, and it felt like you were ripping Joel’s heart out and crushing it in your hands.

Fuck no, he didn’t want you to leave, and that was what scared him the most; feeling attached to someone so detached (and yes, he was a hypocrite). He wouldn’t be able to take it if he woke up one day and you were gone.

But he couldn’t keep doing this to you. It was selfish and cowardly and it just made everything worse. He made everything worse.

“I can’t do this without you,” he told you. He hadn’t known how true it was until he said it.

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.” He felt suddenly impassioned. “You can’t…if you…just don’t. Promise me you won’t.” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t let the words out of his mouth and into the universe. You both knew what he meant.

“I promise,” you said. You sounded oddly tranquil, but Joel was destroyed, even though he knew he didn’t have the right to be—this was entirely his fault.

“Can you let me keep watch so you can get some sleep?” you asked again.

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Just need to know where you are.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and glossy, and for a second he thought you might start crying. Before he could think of something to do or say, your hands were on either side of his face, pulling him down into an urgent kiss.

He didn’t know what was happening, what you were thinking, or what he was thinking, but it didn’t matter, he just knew he needed to kiss you back. One of his hands found your waist while the other splayed out across your back, pulling you flush against him.

It was nowhere near sweet. It was intense and unyielding—a frantic clashing of teeth and bruising of lips. It was intoxicating, earth-shattering, but felt so right, like it was always meant to happen—or needed to happen.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, somehow bringing him impossibly closer to you. You hiked a leg up around his hip and tugged his pelvis forward. He ran a hand down from your waist, brushing it over your ass and gripping your thigh.

You rolled your hips into his, eliciting a deep, involuntary groan from him. He was painfully hard. He knew he would regret this, but he set your leg down and managed to tear his mouth away from yours. 

He missed the feeling immediately, and he didn’t have the self-control to pull away completely. His hands were still on you, pressing you against him. You looked so pretty and ruined gazing back at him; breathless and flustered with pink, swollen lips.

Fuck.

You had just kissed Joel Miller, the man you hated. 

You didn’t hate him.

You kissed the man who hated you.

He didn’t hate you.

You kissed the only person you had left. You kissed him even though it made no sense. You kissed him because you wanted to.

You started it, but then he stopped it. His eyes were dark, his face was flushed, and the bulge in his jeans was not going away. He looked like he was in pain, struggling with his own conscience.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be sorry.” He grinned softly and reached a hand up to tangle in your hair. It was an unexpectedly sweet gesture. “I liked it.”

Your heart melted. He was so lovely, so dear. You never imagined in your wildest dreams that Joel Miller could be like this.

“Just don’t wanna take advantage,” he said.

“You’re not. I kissed you,” you reminded him.

“I know, but you're upset, and you don’t like me much, and you’re tired. Don’t want you doing anything you don’t actually wanna do.”

You did want it, but you were also overwhelmed and exhausted, and more importantly, it would have been a majorly fucked up thing to do with a 14 year old sleeping 20 feet away.

“But if you still want it later”—he gave you another chaste kiss—“you can have it.”

You giggled, kissing him one more time. You didn’t know when you'd be able to again.

His gentle smile faded, and he looked into your eyes with devastating sincerity. “I got you now, okay?”

“I know, Joel.”

“Do you have me?” he asked.

“I’m trying.” You hoped that would be enough, because it was all you had.

“That’s all I need, sweetheart.”

a/n: so i wrote most of this when i was sick with the flu and i fully intended for it to be a one-shot, but i love this dynamic and i’m thinking of exploring it further. let me know if y’all would be interested in seeing more of these two. (edit: this a/n is now redundant bc i did in fact write the sequel).

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

SKZ in a fist fight

Chan

This man is cruel and ON ONE. I’m talking during fights this man is doing anything. Scratching, stomping, strangling. Ain’t no shame in his game. Though he will feel guilty after he won’t during. He said “I want this to hurt.” And it did. He also is constantly changing. Like oh he realizes you have pocket sand? Bet. He got something for you. He said “embrace the process” and did.

Minho

Minho is the type who doesn’t fight. He calls the cops. Like I got “Fight who?🤨” vibes. You’re not worth it. You’ll never be worth it. He’s fighting nobody because Korea’s laws are shit and even if it’s self defense he can go to jail so quick. With that being said the verbal beating you’ll get will probably be worse than anyone’s fists could dish out.

Changbin

Changbin does not fight one on one. He gets his friends to jump you. And then he’s like “Oh wow guys you really stuck up for me!” All excited and stuff as if he didn’t call his whole friend group to beat on this one person.

Hyunjin

Me and my friend talk about him and Han (at least predebut) ALL THE TIME. Now…NOWADAYS Hyunjin is more conscious. He won’t fight you because if his career goes downhill for it he’ll crash out. He’s like “We’re adults. We’re mature. Why fight?” HOWEVER. Pre scandal Hyunjin was a CRASH. OUT. (The cards and his natal chart have both spoken.) I’m talking you’re running ones with everyone he knows if you’re running ones with Hyunjin. Verbal, physical, whatever ones you can run you’re running when it comes to him. And he enjoys it. He gets mad and he gets mad quick. And he’s probably been in plenty of fights because Temper + Side Eye = Someone’s swinging and it’s 50/50. But yeah now he’s chilled out he’s not fighting anything.

Jisung

SPEAKING of Han. Another one who calls his friends to fight you cause he knows he can’t fight. But he calls his friends then runs to the hills to get out of there. And there’s absolutely ZERO shame in his game. Then he’ll spread the video like he did sumn and lie about the entire situation like “Yeah I beat them up.” No you didn’t? Predebut Han would’ve probably had a stroke if someone tried to actually fight him though. He knows he can’t fight and it stresses him out even thinking of having to fight someone.

Felix

Felix is beating the breaks off you, whoever tries to step in, AND your mama for good measure (not literally.) everyone in the general vicinity can get some. He’s fighting you, your friends, whoever tries to hold him back, anyone watching who’s talking too much, AND the camera man if someone’s recording just to prove the camera man isn’t invincible. (Kinda exaggerating.) don’t be fooled by his general Felix-ness Felix gets DOWN.

Seungmin

Before I even pulled a card I immediately got “Peasants 🙄” he’s not fighting you. I’m literally getting “I know my worth.” He knows he’s better than you so why fight? You can fight his friends instead if you really wanna run a fade. But no one’s getting hands on him. And if they do, trust they’ll go bankrupt with the amount of lawsuits he’s filing. And honestly he’s so real for that.

Jeongin

He doesn’t fight. Point blank period. He’s tried once and he got beat so bad he’s scarred for life. If someone tries to fight him he’s RUNNING, hiding, calling the cops, calling his friends, calling their MAMA he doesn’t care as long as he gets out of an ass whooping. And he has absolutely zero shame in his game. And if worse comes to worse he has pocket sand, zero morals, the mentality to fight the dirtiest of dirty and PTSD.

As a group

This is how this goes. You start trying to beat on Jeongin, next thing you know Felix starts swinging and Seungmin’s on the phone with his lawyer, Minho’s recording because he’s just like that, Han is cheering Felix on in the background, Hyunjin is pulling that “Oh we’re adults we’re mature stop fighting.” Then he gets hit and he starts crashing out and he’s definitely like that feral fighter. I’m talking biting, scratching, grabbing your hair and your neck or whatever he could find, kneeing the balls. At least Felix sticks to punching, kicking, he’ll grab you maybe stomp you but Hyunjin just does whatever. Then Chan comes up and starts swinging like his life depends on it because he’s protective of the kids, Changbin is having his Y/N moment in the back like “Guys…This isn’t like you 🥹” even though he’s low key enjoying the drama.

It’s just a mess. A funny mess, but still a mess.

Also, Jeongin probably throws the pocket sand at some point during this fight just to help them.

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 20 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You and Arthur finally find solace in a town and in each other, breaking down every last wall that remains.

Author’s Notes: Sexual content in this chapter. Chapter twenty of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, loss of virginity, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Twenty: The Power of a Name

Word count: 6609

She really thought I would leave her here. What nonsense, especially after what happened in the last town and how much it haunts her. I suppose I’ll be seeing this journey through to the end. Either that, or long enough for her to tell me to get lost. Surprisingly, that ain’t happened quite yet, though I ain’t holding out hope that it won’t after how much of a fool I been towards her. We shall see, I guess.

~

It had taken ten more days to get back to civilization. The town of Ogallala was small but growing fast due to the rail built through it. Arthur knew it made you nervous to be around this many people again, but the law in this town was sparse, and the two of you kept your heads down well enough and found a hotel tucked away to stay hidden in in the meantime. If anyone came through looking for you, they’d have to go door to door to find you, and many of the townsfolk weren’t local besides. That meant no real reason to turn in two people folk hadn’t really noticed in the first place. That left Arthur calm enough not to worry over your safety like he had been the past week and a half. And that left him more relaxed than he had been in a long time.

It turned out you were nervous about more than just the law and the local population—he’d had to wriggle it out of you, but Arthur finally figured out you thought the local train station meant his departure. Your final destination wasn’t far, and you had thought he was impatient enough to get back to his gang that he would take the first train to Denver and leave you here to fend for yourself. He couldn’t begin to explain how wrong you were and had instead led you to the hotel without a word, a little miffed you thought he cared that little about you. Then again, he hadn’t outright expressed much reason for you to think otherwise, and he was starting to think it was time to. You’d immediately collapsed onto the bed upon arrival, worn from all the hard travel, so he didn’t have a chance to speak his mind anyway. Later, he told himself. Though he was in denial about the fact that very soon, there wouldn’t be a later.

Arthur sat on the floor beside the bed and chewed on a bit of cooked deer meat Beth had insisted the two of you take, looking over his journal to pass the time. Really, he wondered what to say to you. He wasn’t the best with words, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He thought of writing it down but had come up with his pitiful new journal entry instead, cowardly as ever. Then, annoyed, he turned back a page, knowing exactly what he would find. He didn’t know why it surprised him. But there you were, laid out on that bed in that barn, half-naked save for his coat. And underneath, your name. Your real name, written out after he’d finished every last gentle curve and arc of your body. He never thought knowing a name would be such an honor, but he realized that it had been your way of expressing to him what he had yet to express to you—how much you cared for him. It was obvious he felt the same, obvious in the few stolen kisses he’d gotten since what had happened in that worn down barn. But maybe the pair of you hadn’t come together like that since because he was the one holding back, not you. And that left him shameful.

Arthur looked over at you on the bed, your back steadily rising and falling in sleep. You were faced away, so he couldn’t see much of you apart from your hand draped over the bedside. Even that small glimpse of you had him thinking of how little time there was left between you and how precious this closeness was. It was time for him to admit things he never normally would or risk letting them fester within him, nothing more than regret that would chafe like hell the farther away he got from you.

Arthur stowed the deer meat and went back to studying the drawing of you. One thing he liked most about it was the look on your face—the smile. Upon first meeting you, he never would have thought someone so heartbroken could eventually be so willful again. That smile was catlike, just for him. It turned him on a little. And the rest of the drawing didn’t make matters better, nor did the thought of what the two of you had done together to cause that smile.

Arthur thought of other ways you had surprised him, as you continued to do every day. How good of a shot you were, for one. Hell, just the thought of you being so good with a gun you’d snapped that noose clean in half had him hard. Then his mind drifted to your hands wrapped around a gun, and just like that, he was lost.

Arthur’s eyes followed the curve of your breast in his coat as he thought of how argumentative you were, the way you snapped at him without fear time and again. He was used to being intimidating enough to make everyone else hold their tongue, but not you. You let him have it.

And your mouth. The way you kissed him despite not quite knowing how—it was unfair to be so good at it. Unfair to be so innocent yet so arousing. Timid yet wild, broken yet strong. All of it.

Arthur let out an annoyed breath at how aroused he had become, setting his journal aside and turning to look at you. He wouldn’t leave you again, but he was suddenly desperate to take himself in hand, something he would rather not do in front of you, asleep or not. But, he considered, you had just fallen asleep. It could be hours. You weren’t a very heavy sleeper, but he could be quiet. He could…shit. He shouldn’t be considering this. But he thought of you waking up and catching him in the act, and that made things immeasurably worse. How would you respond? That put a smile on his face. You’d never seen him naked, nor any man if he had to guess. He loved seeing that shy, surprised look on your face his overly confident words brought, and he had no doubt the sight of him pleasuring himself would make you go so red it would leave you speechless for once. Or maybe it wouldn’t, and maybe you would be curious enough to crawl off that bed and come over here, crawl in his lap and-

“Christ,” Arthur whispered, in the same sorry state he had been in that bath, thinking then of what he would do with you on the first bed you’d shared. Only now, he had no reason to feel guilty over wanting you like that. He had half a mind you wanted the same from him. Or he hoped you did, at least. If how you had responded to his touch the last time was any indication, you certainly did.

And then Arthur was thinking of what he knew he shouldn’t be, because it would lead to his hand drifting downward when he really shouldn’t allow for such things. He thought of his fingers between your legs, all those perfect sounds you made. He thought of your whispered fervor, the words don’t stop cutting through him worse than any bullet. He wanted that again. By God, he was desperate enough to wake you for it. But he wouldn’t. He would let you rest and have what little peace he could offer. Because what he was considering wasn’t quite peace so much as it was demanding, outright gratification. A desperation he could no longer tame and one he hoped to drag from you right alongside him. But again, as much as it killed him, he would wait for your desire to match his. And as he pulled another cigarette out of his ever-dwindling stash to distract him in the meantime, he knew what he felt for you must be real—nothing had ever nagged him so bad as to make him more honorable. And there was something to be said for that.

~

Two months and fifteen days. You woke up to the ceiling of yet another rented room, plagued by the thought of your parents’ deathdate. Your mother had been keeping up with the days, if only for some way to pass the time, and here you were doing the same two and a half months later, nearly to the day. It had been a Wednesday. The ninth of September. And now it was nearing the end of November, and all you could hold onto was how much you regretted not marking their graves with their birthdates and deathdates. With crosses bearing names you were proud to display but couldn’t bear to part with at the time, just like your own.

You looked to the windows lining the wall, noting the gray sky beyond. It was snowing again. It had been for nearly the entirety of the past week, though part of you wished it would give. There were many things you wished would give, namely the ache in your chest at the constant absence of your parents’ guidance. As far as you had come without it, you knew you could survive on your own, but that guidance was a crutch you would have loved to feel one last time. Comforting in its surrender.

Your eyes flicked to the man propped up against the wall, one leg bent at the knee and hat slung low over his eyes. He was either asleep or resting, and you didn’t want to disturb him either way. He didn’t allow himself to do so very often after the two of you had gotten so tangled with the law, but he deserved this. He was toughened, hardened by a life you would never have come out of alive. It made him strong in a way you wanted to grant respite to. Strong in a way you knew he never would himself. Stubborn, more like, but you couldn’t deny you recognized that only because you were the same.

Turning on the bed, a loud creak resulted that had Arthur raising his hat brim to look at you. Part of you wanted to pretend to be dozing anyway like you used to do as a child, but you met his eye instead. Held that stare until it turned contemplative. Until you were both looking beyond the eyes into the soul beneath.

“Didn’t want to sleep up here?” you said softly.

Arthur looked to the window, like of all things, that was what finally made him meek.

“You needed some sleep. And didn’t leave me much room besides.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. When he turned back to you, all you could say was, “It’s snowing again.”

“Yeah,” he said in a manner that made you recall the secret he had bestowed to you—something no one else knew about him. Your very own piece of him.

“And you don’t like the cold, do you?” you teased.

He scoffed. “No.”

Stubborn and gruff. You were grinning as you said, “That’s too bad. Guess I don’t have to face my shortcomings quite like you do.”

“Meanin’?” he said, annoyance in his voice though you knew he was curious enough not to drop it.

“The postman,” you admitted. Then he was letting out a laugh.

“I guess not.” He shook his head and looked back to the gray light of the nearest window. And something about doing what you had just done to ground yourself made you ache for him.

“Come up here.”

The words were out of your mouth in a second. There wasn’t an ounce of regret in you, not even when he looked to you with questioning eyes.

You scooted back and patted the bed in front of you. He didn’t make a fuss about it—just rose and walked over, his spurs jingling with each step. He swiped his hat from his head and sat, holding your eye as he folded his lumbering frame down on the bed beside you. You lay facing each other when he set his hat on your head, an action so fond you nearly choked up with it.

He smiled at you, likely because of the way his hat was much too big and sat crookedly, covering one of your eyes completely. You had the sudden urge to give him yours, but it was on the floor behind you, and you wouldn’t move enough to ruin this perfect moment with him. He was never so…tender. Especially not with the way he looked at you. Like it was a privilege to do so.

You tilted his hat so you could see him out of both eyes and smiled at him. “What?”

He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. “Just…”

He took a moment. You would have given him all the time in the world to know what that look was for.

“You,” he admitted on an outward breath. “Ain’t what I expected.”

“How so?”

His eyes flicked away then, like he wasn’t used to this kind of talk. He obviously wasn’t, as you’d never gotten this much from him before, but it still softened you to see him so nervous over it. Like he was trying hard to get the words right.

“I didn’t expect you to be so…alive.”

Blue eyes met yours on the last word, and they nearly took your breath. Because he understood you in a way you hadn’t realized. You’d never been so proud to be called such a mundane thing. But it meant the world to you.

“I didn’t either,” you admitted. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

He made a huff of surprise. Or maybe disbelief.

“I mean it,” you told him. “As much as you like to grate on my nerves, I think you’re good for me.”

“Am I?” he said, a tease in his tone.

“You are.”

“Well, I…” He trailed off, his gaze averting again. His breathing quickened and grew heavy. You were willing to bet he would kill for a cigarette right about now. But you let his words hang, hoping he would finish. Hoping he would voice what you already felt.

“I’m glad I met you,” he said lowly. “You’re pretty damn good for me too, and I ain’t just saying that because you saved my neck.”

You chuckled. “No?”

He shook his head, those blue eyes flashing. But your gaze was suddenly drawn to his throat, to the subtle line you hadn’t noticed before. He had remnants of that noose on his skin, a slightly reddish-purple scar on his throat. It looked to be healing still, like he may rid himself of it yet. You hoped he did. That was a grim reminder of something he hadn’t deserved.

Without really thinking, you reached out and touched his skin, running your thumb over the edge of the mark. He flinched but didn’t push back.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered.

He shrugged this off, catching your wrist and tugging it away. “Ah, I’ll survive yet. Besides, look at you now. You would have been fine without me.”

“No.” You met his eyes, needing him to know how serious you were. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

He stumbled a little over your hard gaze but went on. “I have no doubt you could have made it to your folks without me by that point.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

Again, he hesitated. Just watched you.

“I would have been heartbroken all over again, Arthur.”

This shocked him. Surprisingly, after everything the two of you had been through and blatantly felt for each other, he was still taken aback to hear that you cared so much.

“I couldn’t—can’t—do this without you.”

He studied you for a beat. Then, a little gruffly, “Me neither.”

It was your turn to be shocked.

“I mean…” he went on, trying hard to get his words right. “I don’t want to.”

And there it was. Just what you had been hoping so deep down that you wouldn’t even admit it to yourself—how much you wanted him to stay. How badly you hoped he would pick you over his old life.

“Me either,” you whispered.

His eyes flicked back and forth between yours, his hand finding the side of your face. You thought he would speak again, but instead he leaned forward and brought his lips to yours. It was all you ever needed to know, better than any word he could speak.

Within seconds, you moved into him, closing the space between your bodies. The kiss was slow but loving, just like the two of you. Slow to admit anything to each other but sure of it once that fondness was shared.

You broke away from him, finally finding your courage. “When we get to North Platte, I’d like you to consider staying. With me.”

The look he leveled you with was devastating. Pure shock. Awe at being so adored.

Instead of answering, his strong arms came around you and pulled you down, turning you beneath him as he kissed you. He kissed you hard, and you returned it. The act was plenty answer enough about how he felt.

Before you had even a measure of your fill of him, he broke away. But then he moved down, his mouth finding your throat just like it had in that old barn.

This, you thought. This, with him, was all there was. And you wanted all of him.

“Arthur,” you breathed, his lips like fire lighting your skin. He stopped and met your eye. “Teach me.”

His gaze went dark, but he asked anyway. “Teach you what?”

“All of it. I want all of you.”

He studied you. Then, quietly, “You sure?”

“More than I’ve ever been.”

His mouth crashed to yours. His hands skimmed against your sides until he grabbed your hips and pinned them flat to the bed. Then he was moving down again, fervent. Deliberate as he started with your boots, just like the last time. You were a bundle of anticipation as you watched him, felt him. But this time, you wouldn’t stand for him to do all the work himself.

Once he had your shoes off, you came forward and pushed him down to the bed instead. You knelt over him and started taking off his boots, unbuckling his gun belt. You didn’t care that you hadn’t done this and didn’t know what in the hell to do other than copy what he had done to you the last time. You shed your own coat and leaned forward, kissing him as you ran your arms through the sleeves, shedding the burly garment. And you kept kissing him as you brought his coat over his shoulders, letting him lean up as you pulled it away from his back and arms. Once he had one arm free, he wrapped it around you and pulled you tight against him as he kissed you hard, landing you right in his lap. His tongue was desperate against yours, and you could feel every inch of your arousal explode at the feeling of him so close. Of what was to come.

Eventually, the two of you parted enough for him to get more of your layers off. But your focus was never so sharp as it became when you went to undo the buttons of his shirt and union suit. Each inch of skin revealed was a gift. He was muscled and broad, with hair lining his chest and scars on his slightly freckled skin. One jagged pink line just under his collarbone drew your eye, and you kissed it. Your mouth was never so addicted to someone as it was when you started kissing his chest, moving upward, toward his neck. Then, finally, his mouth. Nothing was ever so perfect. He let out a satisfied breath and laid back down, content to let you kiss him. You were just the same. You suddenly wished you could draw like he could so that you could record this moment in your memory forever—what it looked like. You on top of him in nothing but your chemise and pants, sure as you kissed him. Him splayed below you, perfectly content to be there, his broad body encompassing yours and his shirt and union suit halfway off. That was doing things to you that you couldn’t explain. Your barely covered breasts were pushed up against his bare chest, and the heat and friction it brought was pure pleasure. Not to mention his mouth and how fully he took you, exploring every inch of you. One of his hands had fallen to your backside and was squeezing you with the slightest pressure but over and over again so that your bodies moved together. It was so good you needed more.

Finally finding the will to back off him again, you took his shirt and threw it aside before beginning to unbutton his pants. His head fell back to the bed, and he let out a low groan when your hands worked over what you were willing to guess was the most sensitive part of him. The anticipation to see his bare body ate at you so that you sped up, slipping his pants from his long, muscled legs. All that remained on him was the bottom half of his union suit, and the material was thin enough for you to see the outline of a hard bit of muscle running alongside his thigh and toward his belly. You knew next to nothing about a man’s anatomy but knew this was how one differed from a woman. So, without really thinking, you laid your hand on him there. He let out a groan so arousing you wanted this to happen already, wanted to feel that pleasure he had wrought from you so easily before.

You moved back up his body and started kissing him when he flipped you again, laying you underneath him. The sight was, again, something you’d never forget. Those broad, strong shoulders your gaze kept snagging on shifted and flexed as he worked the buttons of your pants. His chest did too, every scar moving under his strength. His arms were equally distracting, and you knew then it was no wonder people were easily intimidated by him. But you weren’t. And you admired every inch of him you could see as he slid your pants off and made to push your chemise up your chest.

“I’m making the same deal with you as before,” he said lowly as he admired your body. “You don’t like anything about this, and you tell me. I’ll stop.” His eyes met yours in their sincerity.

“You know I won’t stop you,” you breathed, the words coming out feminine and needy.

“We got a deal?” he said anyway.

You nodded. And because you remembered he preferred you to say it aloud, “Yes.” Then he pushed your chemise up and over your breasts, over your head and arms until he was dragging it all away. All your hesitation and inexperience, gone. All of it lost in the wake of his want of you.

He immediately brought his mouth down to your nipple, the feeling of warmth it brought just like last time. You’d forgotten how perfect it felt. You brought your hand to the back of his head, playing with the short strands as your mouth fell open in pleasure. He was moving against you this time, his heavy body lining against yours in a way that drove you mad.

You let out a moan at a particularly harsh swirl of his tongue, then did it again when his free hand found your other breast. God above, you could feel this for an eternity and never tire of it. But this wasn’t just about you.

Your hand slid down his muscled back, down until it reached the edge of his union suit. You wanted it off. Wanted him bare, completely.

You started to tug at the fabric when Arthur’s hands shifted, and his mouth moved away just enough for him to get his balance as he stripped his remaining clothes away. You watched him in awe. You watched as he turned slightly to get the union suit over his feet, the sight of his bare side so muscled and strong like the rest of him wholly distracting. But it wasn’t until he turned back toward you that your gaze caught and held. You could feel his eyes on you, could sense his amusement in his resulting chuckle, but you didn’t care. What you had touched before between his legs was now free of any clothing, a hard line of muscle just like the rest of him that stood erect against his body. The sight alone swallowed you in arousal.

He clambered closer, beginning to speak. “You-”

Your hand was around that proud length before he could say another word. He hissed a breath at your touch, and you quickly let go, thinking you’d done something wrong.

“Christ, woman,” he mumbled, nearly falling on top of you in his fervor to kiss you again.

“I’m sorry,” you said into his mouth, not knowing what it was you’d been trying, only that you couldn’t resist.

He pulled away and looked into your eyes, his gaze full and heavy as the smirk beneath it. “Shit, don’t apologize. I’d prefer you did it again if it wouldn’t cut this meetin’ so short.”

You were more confused by that than anything but didn’t respond, especially when he leaned down to kiss you and you felt that length against your thigh, hard and impossible to ignore.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling his hand begin to skim down your side. His fingers brushed over the bumpy, scarred skin near your ribs and hesitated. He broke away, looking down at the scar he had mended back together himself. His fingers ran across it, caressing it. A wordless apology for what had happened to you. The touch made conflicting emotions fight to be free from deep within you. Because the scar was a painful reminder of what would never go away, a loss so potent you could cry over it even now. But you wouldn’t, because you were equally as enthralled with Arthur’s loving touch, with how he had stitched you back together both physically and emotionally. He was still doing it to this day. And the touch was a tangible reminder—how much he would surrender himself over to you just to make you somewhat whole again. Something you’d never thought you would be gifted by him but, you were beginning to learn, something he did naturally. Kind, selfless man.

Arthur brought his mouth down to your side and pressed a kiss to that scar, tender and patient. It nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, needing to put your thoughts elsewhere. Needing him to put the pieces of you back together again one more time.

He obliged you. All sadness was lost as his hand drifted downward and between your legs, a blazing heat taking its place. Just like before, he worked his fingers against you as a slickness gathered there, urging you to rock against him. And you did, a bundle of anticipation over waiting for what you had felt last time—his finger sliding inside of you. But he took his time and circled his thumb around those nerves again, making you arch into his touch.

After enough of this, it turned into a pleasurable sort of torture. You broke the kiss. “Arthur,” you warned, though it sounded more like begging. And perhaps you were.

He let out a low laugh that caught on every inch of your arousal. “Just making sure you’re ready for me. Don’t want to hurt you, darlin’.”

Darling. How endearing. Now that was a nickname you could grow used to.

You considered what else he’d said and remembered that slight feeling of discomfort at his finger moving inside of you, like your body wasn’t used to such things. But you also remembered how good it felt to get beyond that feeling, that and his chosen nickname enough to have you wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him back down in a kiss. He let out a low noise this time, more of a satisfied breath. And it was enough to have your tongue finding his as his finger dipped inside of you. You froze, completely focused on the feeling. Arthur took control of the kiss, of everything, as he moved his hand against you. You were breathing heavy in seconds, the feeling beyond satisfaction.

After enough of this for that curling feeling to take hold deep within you, he slipped another finger into you. You were wrong before. That was beyond satisfaction. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you couldn’t kiss him anymore as you rocked against his hand, completely caught up in those thick fingers moving so persistently. He didn’t miss a beat, his mouth going to your neck instead, pressing hot kisses to the spot just below your ear as you panted for him.

The feeling from before, that explosive feeling you so wanted to experience again, was nearing. “Please,” you whispered, desperate for it. But before Arthur could drag it out of you, his fingers were slipping away. You nearly whimpered at the loss, looking down to see why he’d stopped. Your heartbeat pounded through you, right between your legs, when you saw where he moved. He was settling between your legs, the hard length of him running against the inside of your thigh. And you understood then exactly what this was, what you had asked of him and what he was about to do. To be fit together so perfectly, so completely, that there was no beginning or end between you.

He met your eyes, boxing you in completely beneath his heavy body. “You sure you want this?” His voice was rough with his own arousal.

“Desperately,” you breathed.

That made him smirk, the look of it so perfect on his face you wanted to kiss it away. But he beat you to it, his mouth coming down on yours. And in seconds, his full weight was against your body, and he pushed his hips into yours until you felt the head of his length slip inside of you. You moaned, your head falling back to the bed with how perfect and full it felt, and Arthur grunted as his hands found your head and he devoured you in a kiss, his hips moving slowly and carefully, in and out as shallowly as he could.

You couldn’t get air down but didn’t care as the feeling of him moving inside of you stretched you wide. He went deeper with every rock of his hips, the small bout of pain returning like it had before, but you didn’t stop him. Wouldn’t dare. It was more pleasurable than it was harsh, and besides, it was doing things to him, not just you. Things you wanted to hear and feel from him every moment. He was as lost as you were, beginning to pick up his pace as his mouth on yours became distracted.

You were soon both panting, both riding on pleasure so full and growing fuller the deeper he rocked into you. He finally broke the kiss, bearing all focus on where your bodies met. By now he was so deep inside of you it was impossible to think of him never not being there, like he belonged there. And the thought alone of him taking you like this, making you his, was forcing that tension deep within you to ratchet up at every thrust.

You whined his name. He groaned low and rough in response, shifting his hands to your hips to hold you steady beneath him as he thrust hard. It felt so good you knew you would be unraveling again in seconds. And, to add to that perfect build, you brought one leg up and hooked it around him, making for a better angle for him to sink into you. It was immediately euphoric.

“Y/N,” he groaned, a desperate plea.

And that—the power in that utterance, your name on his lips—was your undoing.

You let out a small cry as your pleasure snapped in two.

He cursed a filthy word, and your world constricted to the feel of him inside of you, rocking those beautiful hips, pulling every ounce of pleasure your body could give. It shot through every part of you. It tore you apart and put you back together all at once. Just like his fondness for you did.

You were letting out one long whine for him when your senses came back. And, you realized, he was saying something. Your name. He was saying your name like a prayer. Never in your life were you so proud for someone to have it, for someone to use it in this way. So reverent and honored by it, like it was a gift to know it and a privilege to speak it.

You loved him then. You were sure of it.

Arthur’s pace stuttered a moment before a breath rattled through his chest and he pulled back, sliding out of you. He half-collapsed on top of you, something warm and wet meeting the skin of your stomach as he groaned like a man utterly unraveled. You knew then he was experiencing the same pleasure you just had. Knowing you’d both felt it, together, because of each other…you were so proud that the feeling fought to be free from your chest.

Arthur drew in each labored breath above you, only propped up by one strong forearm now. The other fell lazily over you as he held the side of your face like he would never release you again. His hair fell over his gaze, and only when he looked up at you did you smile. Just for him.

“Pretty girl,” he murmured, running his thumb along your cheekbone as he went back to attempting to control his breathing.

You blushed under those words but pushed through the flattered feeling it brought you and said what you couldn’t resist. “Was that- was I…okay?”

He scoffed a laugh. “You kidding?”

“I don’t exactly know what I’m doing-”

He cut you off with a less than innocent kiss and pulled back with that smirk on his face. “You were perfect.” He rolled to his back beside you, the bed creaking with his weight. Still, he sucked down air like he couldn’t catch it. That proudness of yours reared its head again at the sound. “So perfect,” he continued, “That I’m gonna need to do it all over again just to be sure it’s as perfect as I remember.”

Now that, you could get behind. Those muscles low in your belly were already tightening at the mere mention of again. But before you could turn to him and coax him into repeating the act, he was leaning over the side of the bed, his strong back flexing with the movement. The sound of his satchel opening and shutting filled the room, and then he had a black cloth in his hand and was touching it to your belly. Right—you’d forgotten about that wetness from before, and now you watched as he wiped whatever it was away.

“What’s that?” you had the courage to ask.

Arthur’s eyes flicked up to yours, and that incessant smirk returned. “‘Course,” he said, swiping the last of it away and tossing the cloth aside. “Forgot you knew as much about this as I do about living up in them mountains.”

“Very funny.”

He snickered. “It’s…well. When a man finds his pleasure, that’s what happens.” His expression filled with amusement as he shifted to his side, propping up on an elbow. “You don’t know nothing about this, do you? About being with child?”

You shook your head. “I figured sex leads to pregnancy, but I’ve never really thought past that.” And suddenly, the very idea had worry blooming sharp and fierce within you. “I won’t…I’m not going to get pregnant, am I?”

He snickered again and shook his head more with amusement than any sort of affirmation. “No, you won’t.”

“How are you so sure-”

“Relax,” he teased, drawing the word out. “The only way that could happen is if I’d done that inside of you.”

You felt Arthur’s smirking stare like a brand then, because just those words had your arousal flaring. Did part of you…want that?

You must have made a face, because Arthur pushed you on it. “What?”

“Nothing,” you insisted.

He chuckled, the sound making you turn away or risk admitting that particular genius.

“Can’t lie to me, darlin’.”

There was that word again. You turned back to him, finding you were watching his mouth of all things. “You finally landed on a decent nickname, then.”

“You like that one?”

God, his smile. The way he said those words. You were a mess of fondness over his annoyingly handsome face when you quipped, “Much better than the others.”

“What, nameless or sweetheart?”

You swatted at his bare chest and immediately regretted it when your hand met with hard muscle. “Damn you,” you muttered, but you were smiling as you said it. Stupid, perfect man. He smiled right back.

“At least you never have to call me nameless again,” you offered.

His smile turned thoughtful. Content. “No. I don’t.”

You remembered then how he had said your name before. It ate you up inside to think he had only used it in the moments that mattered most. The first time being when you’d offered it to him, something that led to your walls coming down right alongside his. Then moments ago, giving up the last pieces of yourselves to each other. And maybe that’s what that utterance had been to him—a surrender. The damning truth that you both felt too strongly to shy away from it any longer. There was no more space for reluctance to stay. There was no more time for it either.

You recalled your request before all this, asking him to stay with you. He’d never answered, but when he said your name with so much care, any worry about the matter vanished. Because there was love in that word. He felt for you just as you felt for him. And that was more answer than anything else he could have said because he had used the perfect word to make you understand—the word most important to you of any of them. Not a yes, but a confession. Not an acceptance, but a name. The one word you had left to hold dear. And looking at him now smiling down at you, you felt that fondness and understanding from him better than you’d ever felt it from anyone.

Instead of any response, you kissed him. Acceptance in your own form. And just as soft and supple as a yes on his lips, he kissed you back.

_________

tag list: @nayomi247 @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030 @spiritcatcherxo @calcarius445 @meet-me-backstage @marygillisapologist @formula1mount @oziozzioslo @lunawolfclaw @c1gs-coffee

[ihavemanyhusbands]

and how about a jealous cooper… hum ...

ANY opportunity for jealous Cooper UGHGHHHH,

Cooper wasn't much for charity, at least not in the present day. He really didn't care to pick up a stray vaultie that didn't know the ways of the wasteland, but you'd insisted on helping out.

‘Only until the next settlement. We’ll drop him off there and the locals can help him.’ He’d said begrudgingly when you’d pulled him aside to discuss.

And now he had to endure listening to him making you laugh and indulging you with stories of his days in the vault. Your relentless, eager questions and the excitement in your voice…

He stalked on ahead, grim and quiet, keeping his eyes on the horizon. His jaw was tight and he didn’t even bother glancing back to see if you were following.

When night fell and you settled in at what was once a school, he watched the two of you from across the fire, feeling venomous. But he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and cause a scene, so instead he figured he’d check out the perimeter once more to make sure nothing was lurking about.

You were startled as he suddenly stood up and stalked off to another room without saying anything. The vault dweller, Jasper, continued on talking, nonplussed, but you weren’t really listening anymore.

He was nice enough and had undeniably piqued your interest, but it was only because you knew so little about the vaults. Not to mention, he was the first vault dweller you’d ever met.

You excused yourself and went after Cooper, unsure of where he might have gone. You waited outside under the stars until you heard him returning. Your vision had adjusted some to the darkness, but you could only see his silhouette.

He could see much better than you in the dark, and he stopped in his tracks as he spotted you.

“Hey,” you said. “All good?

“Just peachy,” he said, voice gruff.

You hummed, unconvinced. “Why’d you go off like that?”

He scoffed. “Why you askin’ so many questions? This an interrogation or somethin’?”

That confirmed that things weren’t just peachy. You crossed your arms over your chest, knowing that toughening up would be more effective than coaxing him softly.

“Thought of abandoning me with a stranger, did you?”

“Oh, you seemed more than fine to me with some stranger,” he said. “Matter of fact, I felt like I was interruptin’.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “So that’s what it was…”

He stepped closer, until you had to tilt your head back to look at him, his features a little clearer. Your back pressed against the dilapidated building, effectively cornered. Little chance of escape, if that was what you wanted.

But you didn’t, far from it.

“Don’t know what you’re goin’ on about,” he said, voice low and borderline menacing.

“If you didn’t want me talking to boys, you could’ve just said something,” you said, taunting and teasing in equal measure. “Not that I care to entertain any of them.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he huffed.

You rolled your eyes. “Alright then, have it your way. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Me?” He raised a hairless eyebrow, amused. “Oh, I ain’t doin’ nothin’, sweetheart. I’m keepin’ my hands to myself. Question is, what are you gonna do about it?”

You bit back a grin. “I don’t know, guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

He chuckled, taking another step forward and leaning over you, his hand resting next to your head.

“Careful, darlin’. If you wanna play the game, you gotta be ready to lose.”

You suppressed a shudder. How could he ever believe you would want anyone else?

Still, you smirked, raising your chin in defiance. “I’ll give it my best.”

He mirrored the smirk. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

———

[kingofpopmj]

Conscious Decision

Part 8

July 21st, 1988

*Y/N’s POV*

I felt myself sinking deeper into the mattress the longer I laid here. I couldn’t bring myself to move let alone open my eyes. I had just spent a fourth night sleeping alone after our wedding day— well what should’ve been. Now, more than ever I felt the most connected to him. I could feel his sadness, pain and fear. It felt like a malicious joke. It’s been four whole days without him, yet the hold he had on my heart and mind was stronger than ever. He had me even though I was fighting it, but that was a joke too, because I wasn’t putting up much of a fight anyway.

“Do you want to join the girls and I today? We’re going into town.” Janet jumped onto my bed, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I think I would much rather lay here all day. The sun is too bright and the birds are singing too loud. Who was that on the phone?”

“I’m glad to see you’re still as optimistic as ever. Y/N, you know who it was.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, playing with the ends of her hair. “Come on. You can’t stay in the room another day. You have to get out. Come with us, it’ll be fun!”

“The phone has been ringing nonstop for hours. That was all him?”

“Yes. Can we change the subject now?”

“What did he say?” I rolled onto my side, staring at her impatiently.

“Okay, we’re still on this. This isn’t a good idea. I don’t think me telling you everything that little twerp said will help.”

“It’s that bad?”

“No. I mean it’s the usual, he wants me to tell you all this mushy stuff and he’s asking when he can see you. He doesn’t sound too good.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

“I’m just so mad at him.” I huffed, sitting up and crossing my legs. I didn’t want to go on like this much longer. I don’t want to be angry anymore.

“I know.”

“I love him.” I let out a deep breath, trying to fight the urge to cry again.

“Yeah, no shit.” Janet rolled her eyes and for the first time in days I laughed with her. A genuine laugh and it felt amazing.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Do you want to see him?” She crossed her arms, staring at me with a weird look on her face.

“Yes, but I don’t know if I should want to see him.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“That depends. Is it mean?”

“No! I’m never mean!” She flung her legs to hang off the side of the bed, exhaling dramatic as ever, “We all know this isn’t the end. What he did was— he’s an ass for doing it, but he hasn’t really had the chance to explain. I mean no damn explanation will ever make up for it— he’s still an idiot, but maybe it’ll give you the necessary closure to move forward together or move on separately. You guys are going to move on from this one way or another, because even though my brother is king of the fools and doesn’t deserve you— I mean seriously you’re so out of his league he’s lucky you even look his way. I swear the fucking nerve. You’re the whole damn package and he ain’t shit— he’s lucky he met you when you were kids. He had years to soften you up. Now, you see his goofiness as endearing, instead of what it truly is. A big ass red flag!” She took a deep breath, before going on. “Anyways, for some insane reason he won you over. You love him. And as much as I hate him right now, I have to cut his the tiniest shred of slack. Michael doesn’t have much— well any experience with relationships, he’s never tried to understand them for anyone but you. It’s unknown territory. He’s never cared enough about a person to explore a relationship. No one measured up because there is only one you. You’ve had his heart since the beginning— his stupid little heart. In his mind, the definition of love is you. Love equals Y/N. That’s the only way it’s comprehensible to him— the only way it’s real in his eyes. Besides this, he’s done a decent job being your guy— I mean this was a huge deal, it was your fucking wedding, so maybe that erases all the things he did right. I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet.” She stood up, walking back and forth along the rug, her arms waving in the air as she spoke. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s got his crusty little nails dug into you and he’s not going to let go. Not without a fight and I’m telling you as his little sister, Michael can take a lot of hits. He won’t give up easily. I don’t know what he’d do if he lost you and honestly I’m hoping I don’t have to find out, but I’ll support you in whatever you decide. I believe he’s truly sorry. Maybe you’ll feel better when you hear his side. I think, if you really want to see him, you should.”

“Wow. That was the sweetest, meanest thing you’ve ever said about Michael.”

“I try.” She shrugged, giggling at her own sarcasm.

“What time are you leaving? Should I call him?”

“In an hour. Relax. That little fool will call again and when he does I’ll let him know.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll give him a piece of my mind too just to scare him.”

“Janet.”

“I’m going to tell him you packed up and went back home.” She laughed like a hyena, jumping off the bed only to fall over. “Oh, he’d probably cry.”

“Please don’t make him cry.”

“What! You did! Why can’t I?” An uncomfortable silence followed and her expression shifted along with it. “Shit. I’m sorry that was too soon.”

“It’s okay. I just— it sucks that this is our reality.”

“It’ll take time, but this will all be worth it in the end. It’ll be—” The telephone rang loudly as we stared at each other, slowly directing our attention to the piercing noise. “I’ll get that.” She smiled, looking over at me one last time. “Are you sure?” She asked with her palm resting on the telephone.

“Yes. I’m positive.”

*Michael’s POV*

“Michael.” My younger sister’s annoying voice came from the other end.

“Hi.” Suddenly, I was very aware of how many calls I’ve made to this number, but I didn’t care enough to be embarrassed about it.

“So, what’s up?” She was teasing me, I could imagine her at this very moment, smiling deviously with her hand on her hip.

“My blood pressure. How— how is she?”

“The same as she was fifteen minutes ago.”

“Okay.”

“How are you?” Her tone changed, I could tell she was being sincere. “Brother, you can talk to me, are you okay?”

“No.” I answered honestly. “I ruined everything. I thought I knew why. I thought it was the right thing. I just wanted to protect her. I don’t know how to exist knowing that any second I could lose the one person that makes it— that gives my existence purpose.”

“Damnit Michael.” She huffed loudly.

“What? What is it?”

“I’m trying to be mad at you right now and you go say that?” I could hear her pacing as she let out a sad chuckle. “Now, you have me crying like a baby. You know what, you shouldn’t be allowed to talk. Let me be mad at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re so annoying. Always saying the perfect thing. You damn poet.”

“I’m—”

“She’s in the shower.” Janet quickly interrupted me. “She’s getting ready.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good she’s going to get out and do something. She deserves to be happy.”

“Michael, listen to me and listen carefully. Y/N is really fragile right now. She’s strong, but that doesn’t mean she’s indestructible. What happened— what you did, it messed her up. It’s triggered things in her that I don’t think she even knew existed. She’s cried so much, I didn’t know it was humanly possible to produce that many tears. You freaking jerk. Seriously, I don’t even— I love you, but damn I’m really struggling to be nice to you right now. I don’t understand why you did this, but I’m not the one you owe that explanation to. Michael, I want to help, but in order to do that I’m gonna need you to get your head out of your ass. I’ll do everything I can to help you get your girl back. Let me help you, no more stupid shit. It’s going to be difficult, but I believe it’s possible to get past this. It’s possible if you don’t go rouge again. You only get one chance with me. Brother, I promise, you so much as breathe in the wrong direction and I’ll knock you on your ass.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry, I truly am. I wish I could do it all over again and do it right. Thanks, you saying it’s possible for us to get past this is the best thing I’ve heard in days. I’ll be good I swear, I wouldn’t want to feel the wrath of Janet.” I rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the tickle in my throat. “You should take her to The British Museum or St. Paul’s Cathedral, she’d love those. I can make a few calls and get you guys a tour guide or passes. Whatever you guys need.”

“Okay, on one condition.”

"You’re a pain in my ass. What’s the condition?"

"You should be the one to take her."

“She doesn’t want to see me. I’d ruin her day. I’ll be lucky if she ever wants to see me again.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. Why else do you think she’s getting ready?”

“Are you being serious? Because this would be a really mean joke.” I sprung up from my previous position, kicking off the layers of covers weighing me down. “We’ve been on the phone for ten minutes and you’re just now telling me?”

“Yes.”

“She really wants to see me?” This must be what Christmas morning feels like.

“She really does.”

“She really does?”

“Yes. Okay, I have one more thing to say. Michael, I love you and I love Y/N. I love both of you so damn much, together and as individuals. You guys getting together is— it was so awesome. She’s been family for so long. We were all excited when you two finally made it work. I don’t know it just felt like, you know, like it all fell into place. Fuck, this is hard. Look, I’ll do whatever I can to lead you two back to one another, because right now it’s evident that you both want that, but I’m going to do whatever is best. So, if I get even a sliver of a feeling that Y/N doesn’t want this, no matter how much it’ll hurt, I’ll support her. If she decides at any point she needs to walk away from you, I’ll be there for her. That’s never going to change. I’ll be here for both of you, just separately.”

“I understand.”

“Okay.”

“I have to get ready. It's actually such a relief that it’ll be the three of us.” I said, the nerves were quick to take over my body as I tried to think of what to say to her. What can I say to her? Janet being there will definitely take the edge off.

“Is thirty minutes enough time for you?”

“I could get ready in five minutes with the way I’m feeling right now.”

“Good. Oh, by the way, this morning mom and the girls invited Y/N and I to go out with them. It’s a nice day to do some sightseeing, don’t you think? Yeah. Well, I’m still going with them, so it’ll just be the two of you. Y/N’s expecting you to pick her up from my room. Don’t be late! Bye!” She spoke so fast I could barely process it.

“Wait!—”

“Gotta go! Kisses!”

She giggled wickedly, hanging up on me without another word. I swear she lives to watch me squirm. I dropped the phone and watched as it hung by the wire, bouncing up and down before stopping all together. I rubbed my eyes as I got out of bed for the first time in four days. My room, that was once our room, was dark and stuffy and to my mother’s dismay I refused to let her tidy up. It looked like how I felt on the inside. I deserved to be surrounded by darkness and disarray. My body ached as I dragged my feet over to the bathroom, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up which felt like an eternity.

My mind wandered to Y/N, stepping into the tub felt so lonely, everything felt empty without her. I never truly understood how integral she was to my life. I don’t have many friends, many people I can trust, she’s the small piece of normalcy in my life. 

“I’m not sure where you go from here, but you’re going to have to accept the fact that it’ll be without her.”

My brother’s words echoed in my head as I felt that sensation, the one that has quickly taken control of me often since that day. The one I couldn’t escape regardless of how hard I fought.

The sound of blood pounded in my ears. My heart collided against my chest with force. My hands began trembling beyond control. My vision growing more distorted, I tried to blame it on the steam from the shower, but I knew better. I had to get away. I couldn’t stay stuck in this bathroom any longer. I needed out.

I unintentionally ripped the curtain off the rod while reaching for my towel. I leaned against the cold tiled wall, fighting to fill my lungs with air. I was almost there. I can do this. All I had to do was breathe. If I held on a little longer I’d see her. I’d be with her soon if I just held it together. I can do this. The tightness in my chest, loudly told me otherwise. Shit. Quickly, stumbling over furniture to reach the phone, I dialed numbers, in the same order that I had been for the past few days. Maybe, I need to hear her voice. That’s it. That’s what I need. I just need to hear her voice and that’ll help ease my mind. That’ll help me breathe. The phone didn’t ring long and that voice filled my ears. The voice that consumed my thoughts and dreams the past four days. The voice I couldn’t function without.

“Hello?”

It’s her. It’s Y/N.

My Y/N.

*Y/N’s POV*

I lifted my purse, hanging it off of my shoulder as I contemplated which heels to wear. It was almost embarrassing how emotional it felt to see him again. As hurt as I was, I think I missed him more. I knew I missed him more. The phone rang obnoxiously, startling me, yet still, I practically danced over to it. Thankfully, Janet had already left or else I would never hear the end of it. I was confident that I’d hear his sweet voice on the other end and as much as I didn’t want to admit it out loud. I couldn’t wait.

“Hello?”

I held the phone close to my ear, waiting to hear him.

“Hello? Michael, is that you?” A deep rooted emotion began to flood my senses. One that I hadn’t felt in a long time, one that I had hoped I’d never feel again.

“Michael?” The faint sound of wheezing was the only response I got. It was all I needed.

I didn’t think twice. I didn’t say anything else. I took off in a sprint. As fast as I was moving it still felt too slow. When I reached the stairwell, the images from years ago flashed through my mind. As my hands gripped the cold steel railings, I remembered the feeling of the shattered pieces I cleaned off the floor that night. The damp remnants left on my shoulder from his tears all those years ago, causing my body to run cold at the memory.

Finally, I reached his level, running down the hall and colliding with his front door. I was so worried I forgot to slow down. My hands struggled with the zipper of my purse, so I tore it open and dumped its contents onto the floor. The small silver key called to me. I yanked it off the patterned carpet, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

I didn’t have to walk much further into the room before my eyes landed on him. Michael, curled up in a fetal position, a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair clinging to his face.

“Hey.” I whispered, gently touching his head. “I’m here. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.” I sat beside him as he pulled himself into my lap, his head resting on my thighs and I stroked his hair. “Just breathe. I’m here.”

“I— I ca— can’t.” The sadness in his voice tugged at my heart. I’d never heard it so broken before. I could tell he was scared. My presence wasn’t enough, he needed a little more.

“Focus on my voice.” I spoke calmly, lying down next to him. “Remember that night we snuck out to go camping?”

He didn’t respond, I didn’t expect him to. He had a strong hold on me as we laid close to one another. I could feel how lost he was in his thoughts. I needed to bring him back to me.

“I was so excited walking over to your house that night. I’ll never forget seeing you jump out of your bedroom window, you fell right on your butt. When you saw me, you shot up to your feet and acted like it didn’t hurt, you insisted that you were fine even though you were limping.”

This time I felt a slight nod from Michael, so I continued on.

“You brought the blankets and I brought the snacks. We had prepared all week for that night. I couldn’t wait to be with you, I wanted to stay up all night just to spend more time together. You spent four hours wrestling with the tent, because it wouldn’t stay up, you were so mad. We ended up sharing a sleeping bag and lying directly on the grass with no shelter, so we had a nice view of the sky. It worked out if you ask me, it’s the reason I love stargazing. You knew how much I loved s’mores, so you built a little fire in that empty soup can. It worked for a while too, until you—”

“It was you.” He spoke, gently interrupting my storytelling.

“Michael, we go over this every time. You kicked it.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but you knocked it over reaching for the marshmallows.”

“Agree to disagree.” I laughed at our refusal to accept blame.

“You’re barefoot.”

“I wasn’t finished getting ready when you called. Then, I heard you, so I dropped everything and ran. I tried to get to you as fast as I could.”

“You got here at the perfect time.” He assured me, his voice was soothing as I felt his smile against my forehead. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I was so nervous that night. I used some of Jackie’s aftershave, I had Janet help me fix my hair and Latoya dressed me. That was going to be the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was going to tell you how I felt. How I truly felt.”

“Really?” I adjusted my head to see his face. He smiled back at me, resting his back flat on the floor and pulling me to rest on his chest.

“I had my speech memorized.” I looked down, studying the ring on my finger, all the while I felt his eyes on me. “I was going to start off by telling you what an incredible best friend you are, how beautiful, kind and loving you are. How I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

“We were thirteen.” I whispered.

“Yeah, we were, but I already knew.” I calmly started to move away from him, but he stopped my movements. “Y/N, I love you. I always have. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Michael—”

“I don’t want to live my life without you.” I closed my eyes as I felt him touch my cheek, his fingers were soft and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Old habits die hard. “I can’t live without you.” He murmured, all my worries melted away, long enough to feel how well we fit together. The tenderness of his lips sparked a warmth in my heart and an urgent need throughout my body. Our connection grew stronger the further we went. I looked up at him, watching him settle in between my legs. He placed his hand on my denim covered thigh, inching up to unbutton my bottoms. The effect of his touch quickly shifted, unleashing a wave of anxiety rather than pleasure.

“Y/N, look at me.” Janet grabbed my shoulders, giving me no choice, but to stop avoiding reality.

“He’s really not coming.” I spoke softly, I sounded lifeless. “I can’t believe he did this. How could he do this?”

Michael lingered above me, his lips curved slightly before I felt them on my neck and that’s when it hit me.

“Where were you?” I asked him.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here now. And, I’m so sorry for being late.”

“You stood me up on our wedding day. I’d hope it would matter a little bit.”

I felt my body tense up as his moved against mine. Michael slowly pushed my top down my shoulder, hooking his finger underneath my bra strap. I became extremely aware of where this was going and it consumed me with panic.

I’m suffocating.

“Michael—”

“I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Michael. Wait. Stop!” I pushed him off of me harder than I intended to. It was abrupt, taking me by surprise as well. I felt like I was drowning and for the first time, Michael wasn't my life line.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Oh?” He readjusted his towel and looked at me as if he was asking me to explain further.

“Michael, I think I need time. We can’t act like it didn’t happen.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to go change and get some shoes on.” I smiled at him half-heartedly, gesturing to the wet splotches now littering my outfit.

“Sorry, I dripped all over you.” He let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s alright—”

“Wait.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, keeping me from escaping the awkward tension in the air. “Nothing I say, nothing I do is ever going to fix this, is it?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“I think we have a better chance than most.” I whispered, trying to ease the pain of this situation.

“Can we still spend the day together?”

“I’d really like that.”

*Michael's POV*

Y/N met me in the lobby after she had left to change her outfit. I was speechless. Wow. She looked breathtaking. A long lacy black dress hugged her curves, it had an open neckline and see through sleeves that covered her arms. I could not stop staring as she walked over to me. Although, it felt more like she was floating. Wow. She paired it with deep red heels that matched the color of her lipstick. A black hat resting on top of her head, shielding her face if she looked down just enough.

“Hi.” She stood in front of me and still I couldn’t find the words. 

“You– I– Wow. Hi.” 

“Are you okay? We can stay in if you don’t feel up to going out. I know the panic attacks are—.” She whispered with a small comforting smile.

“No. No. I just– Wow. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.” Her fingers traced the red band around my arm. “I love that you still wear these.” 

“I’ll always wear them. They remind me of you.” Y/N smiled, curling her fingers around my bicep as we exited the lobby.

The journey to the museum was uneventful. It was full of meaningless conversation and heart wrenching glances. When we arrived I did my best to look as normal as possible, instinctively, my hand rested on Y/N’s lower back, keeping her close to me. Old habits die hard. We were ushered through a side door and I was able to make arrangements, so we had a whole wing of the museum to ourselves. I knew she’d love it. I couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.

I gave Bill a subtle nod, swiftly he fell back, giving Y/N and I more privacy as we roamed. I admired the way her eyes scanned the canvas before us, the way she nibbled at her bottom lip as she tried to understand it and most importantly how close she stood to me. Our arms brushed one another, breathing in her perfume made it seem like it would all be okay.

"Thank you for bringing me here. Wow, look at this one. I love it." The deep colors of the painting in front of us, matching perfectly with her outfit. Again, I was watching her more than the art.

“I love you.”

“I lo—Me too.” She smiled sweetly, her hands clasped together in front of her as she walked over to the sculptures. I noticed how she couldn’t say those words back to me, although it hurt, I couldn’t blame her. As much as I wanted to hold her hand I knew she needed distance, but I couldn’t let her forget that I was going to fight for her.

“Y/N, I’m so in love with you. I need you to understand that.”

“Michael, I know. You’ve been reminding me all day.”

“I believe it’s nice to hear. You deserve to hear it. I enjoy reminding you.”

“Okay, that’s very sweet. Thank you.”

“I guess some people don’t enjoy professing their love like I do.” I snapped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She stopped walking and turned to me, her left eyebrow arched as she waited for an answer.

"It means that I've been pouring my heart out to you and the only response I get from you is 'I know' or 'thank you’. What's going on, Y/N, do you not love me anymore?"

"Jesus Michael."

"Well, what is it? What else should I do? Do you not want to be with me anymore? Do you want me to take you back to the hotel? Right now, I feel like I’m the only one trying to fix this."

"You're the one who broke it!"

"Y/N, baby—”

"Don't call me that!" She pointed at me as her bottom lip quivered. No. Please don’t cry. I can’t handle seeing you cry.

“You think I don’t know that I caused this?”

“This was a bad idea.” She shook her head, spinning on her toes and quickly walking towards the exit. “I can’t believe I thought—”

“No, it wasn’t! No! Talk to me.” I ran to catch up to her, grabbing her arms and standing in front of her.

“Michael—”

“Tell me why you’re shutting me out!”

“I don’t want to do this here.”

“Tell me!”

“Michael, stop—”

“Talk to me damnit!”

“Stop yelling at me!” Our voices bounced off the walls, I could feel the anger in her words. She hated yelling, arguing wasn’t her way. Y/N always preferred to talk things through, so I took a deep breath and spoke.

“The only way we can fix this is to talk about it. I want to fix this. I need to fix this.”

“You didn’t show up.” She said simply, her eyes not meeting mine.

“I know.” My grip on her arms loosening as I watched her contemplating what to say next.

“It felt like our wedding meant nothing to you. It didn’t matter. I didn't matter. You just vanished and you made me feel so rejected. That was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. I don’t understand why you did it.” Her cheeks now damp with tears as she fought to contain herself.

"I'm sorry. Y/N, I know I caused this. I know these are the consequences of what I did— I hate knowing I did this to you— It’s on me. You can’t say it— you can’t tell me you love me because I left on what should’ve been the most important day of our lives. I did that. I did it and I hate myself— I hate that you can barely look at me, but it’s my fault. I regret it with my whole heart. I should’ve shown up. I should’ve done it right. I should’ve made you my wife. I should’ve— I wish I did and I'm so sorry. I know I deserve it, I know I deserve for you to walk away for good but I’m still so afraid to lose you."

"The reason I haven't said it back isn't because I don’t love you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you hurt me Michael. You hurt me in a way I never thought was possible. It was an unbearable pain that I never thought I'd have to endure, especially from you. That night, I didn't want to see you ever again, I thought I hated you, but you came to see me anyway. Once I saw you I forgot about that pain, I forgot about how angry I was, because all I wanted to do was run to you. All I wanted was for you to hold me and to forget everything that happened. Once I saw you, all was forgiven and when I heard your voice I was yours again."

"That's good. Right?"

"You don't understand." She shook her head, turning away from me, but I stopped her.

"Then explain it to me. Please."

"I love you so much that I'd forgive you without an apology, without an explanation. I love you so much that I'd accept pain as long as it meant that I'd still have you. I love you so much that l'd— I love you so much that I've allowed you to string me along all our lives."

“Y/N.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve hurt my heart.” She wrapped her arms around her waist as if to hold herself together.

“Y/N, this is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I know that, but we have both hurt each other in the past. Maybe I’ve caused you more pain, but that doesn’t negate the pain I’ve felt.“ Once the words left my lips I regretted it. She’s never hurt me.

“Well, maybe we should just walk away now, try to save our friendship before it’s too late.”

“I don’t want to go back to that. You don’t want that. I can’t. Y/N, you’re who I belong with. It has always been us.”

“I don’t know if I can handle it anymore. We couldn’t survive anymore pain. We couldn’t. Even as friends.”

“Y/N, I need you to believe me. I rather slit my wrists than cause you pain. I will never hurt you again.”

“Again.” She muttered, “It used to be I will never hurt you. Period.” She uncrossed her arms, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

“I know.”

“Michael, I’m so afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I’m afraid of forgiving you, but I’m petrified of not forgiving you.”

“Y/N—”

“Why?” She interrupted me, her lips sucked in between her teeth. She was struggling to keep herself from falling apart in front of me.

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“I— I’m not sure.”

“Michael, please, answer the question.”

“I guess there were many reasons.”

“Many?” Her voice sounded helpless as she stepped further away from me. I never knew it was possible to see someone visibly crumble until now.

“Please. Baby— I mean Y/N, please don’t cry.”

“What were the reasons?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Then, I’m leaving.”

“Stop! Please, stop walking away from me.” I ran, blocking her path, my hands cupped her face gently. “I know you don’t want to leave. I know you don’t mean it. I know you.”

“Yeah, you know me so well.” She rolled her eyes out of frustration, lifting her chin up and away from my grasp.

“Y/N, what do I need to do?”

“Please, just explain it to me, tell me the reasons.” I shook my head, looking down at the floor. “Why not?”

“Because I’m trying to fix us, not break us.” I tried holding her hand, surprisingly she let me.

“What does this look like to you? We’re already pretty broken.”

“Exactly. I don’t—”

“I need to know why in order to move forward. I need to know, so I can let it go. I need to know so I can try to forgive you.”

“I don’t see how that will help, it’s like you want me to hurt you. All day, you’ve kept me at a distance. You’ve barely looked at me. Have you thought about how that makes me feel?”

“Are you really trying to compare standing me up on our wedding day to me trying to figure out how to forgive you?”

“Are you trying to hurt me on purpose? Is this your way of getting back at me? Getting even?”

“If you truly think I’d do something like that, plan to hurt you as a way of evening out the playing field then you don’t know me like I thought you did. If that’s what you think, then we shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“It’s not. Y/N, I know you would never do that.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

“Because I’m frustrated. I fucked up. Okay? I really fucked up. I ruined this and I’m struggling to ignore the possibility of not being able to fix it.”

“Me too.”

“At least there’s one thing we agree on.”

“Yeah, little victories.” She smiled weakly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“It’s difficult being so close to you yet feeling so damn far away.”

“Mhm.”

“I wish I could jump on my bike and ride down to Burger Grill. Your go-to order, a big bag of fries, a milkshake with extra whipped cream and cuddles from your favorite guy. When we were kids, that used to fix everything.”

“Yeah, but we aren’t kids anymore.” She pressed her hand against her belly as she attempted to calm her breathing. “Michael, I can’t jump back in right away. I want to fix this it’s just— I feel so vulnerable. I don’t want to feel pain like that ever again. It’s nerve wracking being with you, but I’m trying. I really am. I want to be close to you but my mind won’t let me. I think— I don’t know— It’s like everything inside of me is at war. My heart hurts, but wants you, wants to forgive you. My body aches, but wants to be held by you—” I knew if I let her go on she’d end up inconsolable.

“I didn’t show up because I want you to be happy. More anything in my entire life I want the best for you. I want you to enjoy life and never have to experience anything less than pure joy. I want you to have freedom. You said you needed to know, so here it is. When I was with Frank that day, he went on this rant about how your life was going to change and I wasn’t preparing properly.”

“Okay.” She gently squeezed my hand encouraging me to go on.

“He was right. You’ll be my wife. That’s all. You won’t be able to work and I know how much you love your job. You won’t be able to make a simple trip to the grocery store or anywhere really at least not by yourself and I know how much you value your independence. You won’t have any freedom. Your privacy will be gone in an instant.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not easy. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because those damn parasites were following you. The thought of you being dragged through the mud to the extent that I am— that thought killed me.”

“You could’ve come to me. We could’ve discussed it. Michael, I would’ve understood.”

“I know.”

“Why did you think that the solution was to not show up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because!” I yelled again. This is not going the way I thought it would.

“Because what!” She snatched her hand away from mine, looking back at me like I wasn’t me anymore, like I was a stranger.

“Because I knew if I showed up, I knew if I saw you— I knew that we would be married right now. I can’t think straight when it comes to you. Damnit, Y/N, I’m selfish when it comes to you. I needed to think about it. I needed more time. I know now that I shouldn’t have let Frank get in my head. I should’ve shown up and married you like we planned. I should’ve married you that day because that’s all I’ve wanted my whole life. I’ve always wanted you. I will always need you. I was so in my head that day, scared to do the wrong thing and I ended up making the worst decision. I always try to do what’s best for you. I’ve always put you first. Everything I do is for you. Believe it or not, at the time, I stayed away for you.”

“Wow. My hero.” She turned to walk away from me. Again.

“Y/N! Stop! Damnit, you can’t ask me these questions and get pissed with my answer no matter what it is! That’s not fair!”

“You know what’s not fair! This!” She held up her left hand, the engagement ring, a bitter reminder of what never was. “It’s not fair that I can’t bring myself to take this off! It’s not fair that I made my peace with everything that came with being your wife. It’s not fair that I accepted how drastic my life would change and chose to embraced it because at the end of the day we were starting our new life together. It’s not fair that you didn’t think the positives of being together outweighed the negative like I did. It’s not fair— all the reasons that made me so excited to marry you, so sure you were my person, were the same ones you used to add to your list of reasons to run. That’s not fair!”

“You’re right. Shit, you’re right.”

“That’s the thing. Michael, I don’t want to be right. I want us, together, to be right. I don’t know how to do it. I want to fix it. I just don’t know where to start.”

“Y/N—” I spoke delicately, but didn’t get to finish my thought. I was cut off by her crashing into me, her head rested on my chest, her arms reluctantly wrapping around my waist. I didn’t allow myself to be shocked for too long. I held her with all I had, rubbing her back, gently swaying her and hoping this wasn’t the last time I’d ever hold her. “I think we need more of this. It could help.”

“Mhm.” Her gentle sniffles felt like a punch to the gut. “It’s not easy keeping you at a distance.”

“I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too. So much.” Her hands moved slowly up and down my back. This was nice. “Janet’s crazy.” She muttered.

“You’re barely realizing that?”

“I guess I’m late to the party. She’s the best though. She offered to steal all your left shoes and shrink your clothes.”

“She what?” I gasped as she laughed into my chest. It felt so good to have her close and to hear her laugh again.

“I haven’t taken her up on the offer yet.”

“Yet? Wow! How kind of you. I feel so protected.” We laughed, together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The melody of our laughter carried up to the tall ceilings of the building. We were surrounded by exquisite artwork from all over the world, yet I could not take my eyes off of her. I only wanted to admire her. My Y/N.

“I’ll always protect you.” Her tone serious and for the first time since everything went wrong, she looked back at me, her eyes as beautiful as I remember, lips parted slightly, skin glowing like the stars on a summer night. I found myself hypnotized. Carefully, I closed the space between us, becoming painfully aware of how deprived I was of her touch, desperate to taste her tongue and feel her lips.

“Michael?”

“Yes, what is it?” I asked cautiously, hoping we could live in this moment longer.

“You could never keep your lips to yourself.” She smiled, reaching down and intertwining our fingers. I sensed that she wasn’t quite comfortable with a kiss, so I settled on leaving one on her cheek.

“Would you consider spending more time with me tomorrow?” I asked, feeling nervous all the sudden.

“I think I can clear my schedule for that.” She teased.

“I have some work to finish up in the morning before the show. It'd be fun for you to join me.”

“Would it be acceptable for me to be there?”

“Of course! Come with me! You can see all the behind the scenes stuff. If you want— I’d like you there— I mean if you don’t want to— I want you to be— well if you—”

“Michael, I’d love to.”

“It’s for Moonwalker.” I spoke, looking down at my feet to hide my shy smile.

“No way! You’re finally making it? That’s incredible babe! I can’t wait to see it.” My heart fluttered at the nickname. I was sure it slipped out, but I’ll take it. Little victories.

"Thank you. It’s been incredible so far. The script has come together nicely and I’ve been able to get almost everything I’ve envisioned brought to life.”

“That’s so exciting. I can’t believe I’m engaged to, what is it a quadruple threat? What can’t you do?” The way she looked at me was out of this world. If we weren’t in a public place I would’ve been all over her.

“You’re making me blush.”

“Mhm.” She moved closer to me, her soft lips connecting with my jawline. Her movements were so soothing. My eyes fell shut as she planted small kisses down my neck.

“I could get used to this.” I joked, she giggled, gently pushing me away.

“You always had that about you.”

“What?”

“The talent of being so damn adorable that I forget why I was angry in the first place.”

“We’re going to make it.” The corner of my lip curved up as I stretched my arm out to grab a hold of her. “Y/N, we’re going to make it. We have to make it.”

“We will make it.” She responded softly, rubbing tiny circles into my wrist with her thumb.

We stood in an empty hallway, smiling at each other like two lovesick kids. It was a nice change. It was a moment filled with hope.

“I have a surprise for you.” An excited smile graced her face at my statement. I led her out to a small courtyard, where I’d set up a romantic lunch date for us.

“This is beautiful.” We walked down a small path surrounded by flowers and a small pond. She was practically jumping up and down. It was perfect.

“My lady.” I grinned, sliding out her chair for her.

“Why thank you.”

We sat enjoying our meal. I noticed Y/N had stopped eating a few minutes ago. She was in her head I could tell, so I did my best to let nature take its course. I couldn’t push her. I needed to let her work through it at her pace.

“Michael.”

“Yes?” She didn’t respond, instead she stood up from her seat and took a few steps over to my side of the table. “Y/N, is everything—” she paid no mind to my worry, carefully she sat on my thigh, her legs finding a place in between my own. Her arm slid across my shoulders, her gaze focused on me and a shy expression on her face.

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Could you, could you kiss me?” She asked nervously, like she thought there was the slightest possibility I would say no. I’d never say no.

“Y—yes, of course.” Nerves I never knew existed were now running through me at an alarming rate. My hands were trembling as I placed them on her. The moisture in my eyes suddenly disappeared, making me blink rapidly which I’m sure looked anything but normal. I removed my hat, placing it on the table and taking an audible deep breath. I must have been taken way too long because she spoke up again.

“I’m sorry. It’s okay. If you aren’t comfortable.” She shifted her body away from me, so I wrapped my arms around her. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“No.” I pulled her into me, her back pressed up against my chest.

“No?” She turned slightly to look at me and that’s when I kissed her.

Our lips laced together, perfectly, but only for a moment. We parted slowly, the kiss obviously had her feeling the same way I did. This was where I was supposed to be. Our gaze unfaltering, heavy with emotion and conveying the longing we had for each other. At the same time, the space between us disappeared and our bodies melted into one another. Eagerly, I grabbed her by the back of her neck and smashed my lips onto hers. Our connection deepening as her hands found a place at the back of my head.

As my fingers sunk into her hips, everything else faded away.

The only thing that could separate us, the only thing that could disrupt this moment was a tornado or maybe an earthquake. Neither of us wanted to be the first to pull away. We didn’t want this moment to be cut short. We wanted to soak in every piece of it because it was glorious.

“Michael!”

“A few minutes of peace was too good to be true.” She smiled against my lips, her hand sliding down to my chest and clenching a fist full of my shirt.

“Damn Bill. Should I— yeah I’m going to fire him. We’ll never be interrupted again.” I kissed her again, harder this time. Her giggles being replaced by soft moans. Oh, shit. We’re about to do it in the courtyard of a museum.

“Michael!”

“Son of a—”

“There seems to be a problem. I’m sorry to interrupt—” he stopped dead in his tracks, looking at us suspiciously before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Kids, there are windows everywhere!” He started pointing them out all around us. “You’re outside! In broad daylight!Anyone could see you two!”

“It’s fine. We weren’t doing anything.” I shrugged, tickling Y/N’s hip discretely.

“Sure. You’ve got lipstick on boy!”

“Oops.” Y/N looked so embarrassed, reaching to retrieve a napkin to clean me up. “You kind of pull it off though.” She whispered.

“Seems you’ve been found out. We need to get going before it gets out of control.”

“Well, that was fun while it lasted.” I’ve become used to adjusting my expectations, it’s just hard when I’m not the only one affected by it.

“It was! Look on the bright side, there’s nothing that went unseen. We got to do it all.” She’s so positive it’s impossible for some of it not to rub off on me.

She had her arm firmly around my waist, mine draped across her shoulders as we reached the exit doors. There was nothing I hated more than arguing with her, but if it would bring us closer together I’ll make an exception.

"Wait! Back up." Bill shouted, he opened the door for us just to slam it shut immediately. He aggressively pulled it until he heard the click ensuring it was secure.

"What is it?" Y/N asked, reinforcing her grip on my hand.

"We've got a bit of a situation dollface." Bill's tone was familiar to me, but not to Y/N. “Change of plans. What do you want to do?”

"How many are there?" I was frustrated to say the least. This was supposed to be a nice day away from everything, just the two of us. “It can’t be that bad. Can we make it work?”

"Enough. No, I’m sorry. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. I say we have Y/N walk out the main entrance by herself and we will get you out through the side entrance. They don’t know she’s here, so they won't bother her. She'll be safer if we split up."

"No. We're going out together."

"Michael, I don't think that's the best idea. You're playing with fire right now, son."

"Bill, she's my lady. I’m not sending her off on her own. She's safest right here. Next to me."

"Okay." Bill smiled proudly at my defiance. He had been furious at me, probably more so than anyone else. When I had him help me miss the wedding he refused to give me a moment of peace. He had lectured me for a whole six hours, saying I needed to man up and quit running away from the things I want. I never thought I’d see him that angry, I’d never given him a reason to be so disappointed in me. He repeated it over and over again, I had to stop making nonsense excuses to hide from good things in life or as he put it 'ruining my destiny.'

Damn, the old man, he was testing me. I guess I passed. Little victories.

“Let’s get out of here. Keep her close.” He shot me a stern look before leading the way outside. I nearly lost my balance when I took a step forward and Y/N didn’t move a muscle. Her eyes wide as she took in the chaotic scene we were about to walk directly into.

“I got you!” I shouted, so she could hear me over the commotion. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you!” I held her face in my hands, her hands gripped my wrists as she gave me a quick nod.

As we stepped through the threshold the number of people outside seemed to multiply. The screaming was deafening, my ears were vibrating and my teeth rattled uncontrollably. Y/N was struggling to stay on her feet beside me until I redirected her in front of me. People were reaching out to touch us and I could tell it was making her nervous. My hands firmly on her hips as our path shrunk significantly with each step. The crowd began pushing and pulling at us. I did everything in my power to comfort her, but it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, Y/N spun around wrapping her arms tightly around me.

“What’s wrong?” I spoke into her ear as she hid her face in the crook of my neck.

“I can’t see. My eye, there’s something in it.” I quickly looked down, she leaned her head back, staring up at me. Oh, no. Her eye squeezed shut, a crimson stream flowing down the right side of her face, I watched in disbelief as the thick substance dripped off her chin and down her neck.

“You’re okay.” I tucked her face back into my neck, cradling her head with my arm. “Bill!” When he turned to glance at me I held up my blood stained hand. After that, our journey through the crowd was an anxiety filled blur. When we finally made it to the vehicle, Bill guided us inside cautiously, jumping in after us and slamming the door shut.

“I’m so sorry.” I collected all the napkins in sight, with shaky hands I put pressure on the wound. I couldn’t see anything, there was so much damn blood. She just stared at me blankly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell happened!” Bill roared, causing us both to jump.

“I don’t know.”

“I told you! I told you to keep her safe and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I did everything–”

“No you didn’t! You let her down again. You didn’t step up again. She deserves better!” 

“Please stop.” Y/N muttered.

“She trusted you to take care of her and again you hurt her! How could you let this—”

“Dammit, stop yelling at him!” Y/N’s voice reached an octave I had never heard before. She exhaled deeply, intertwining our fingers as she pulled me closer, her head resting on my shoulder. The warmth of her body sent shivers down my spine as she leaned against me. “Someone threw something. It isn’t his fault. It happened so fast. I didn’t even see it. Michael didn’t let me down, he never has.” It felt like her last sentence had deeper meaning. Whether that was her way of sending me message or not, she definitely sent one to those around us.

Her and I are a team. There’s no denying that.

“I’m sorry dollface.” Bill spoke as he concentrated his gaze out the window.

The vehicle hadn’t come to a full stop before Y/N grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her. I struggled to keep up, weaving through people, hopping over furniture. We barely made it into the elevator. Y/N was panting, incessantly hitting the button until the door began to shut just as we saw Bill trying to catch up with us.

“That was fun!” Her laughter filled the small space, she backed into the wall sliding down and holding her belly. I took a seat across from her, the way her cheeks shimmered under the flickering light had my full attention.

“It was.” I agreed, she studied my expression, stretching her arm out to press the emergency button. The familiar way the floor vibrated and that look in her eyes made me feel like I was on top of the world. She held her hand out to me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think you have a concussion.” I joked.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. The blood made it seem worse, but I’m good. I promise.” She moved to rest on her knees in between my legs, beaming at me, unrushed and uninterrupted. Her fingers curled around mine. “I don’t have it in me to hate you Michael. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

“Neither have I.”

“Why is everything so complicated then?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

The cool steel wall pressed into my back, the warmth of her hands made my chest feel like it was set on fire, my eyes never leaving hers as she glanced down, studying my lips. Her guard slowly being let down the longer I held her. We sat there for what felt like hours, each second better than the last.

“You’re not an idiot.” Y/N’s voice sounded just above a whisper as our noses touched.

“I’ve made mistakes.” My voice cracking at my vulnerable position. “You do deserve better.”

“Michael–”

“I was kidding myself to think I’d ever be enough for you.”

“You made a mistake.” Her fingers traced the line of my jaw, keeping me from looking away. “It doesn’t mean you aren’t enough.” She mumbled, her shiny red lips communicated the rest.

She’s kissing me. She’s actually kissing me. My fingers were tangled in her silky hair as she tugged at my coat. I glanced at her briefly, she guided my hand to the zipper of her dress. Her skin was so soft, softer than I remember. Everything about her became even more beautiful than the last moment I spent with her. I can’t believe this is happening.

“We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready. I’m just happy being with you again.”

“Michael, look at me.”

“Yes?”

“I need you.” Her voice is like music to my ears. I remembered the day I had said those exact words to her in this very elevator. “I need you closer.” She melted into me. The warmth of her thighs squeezed around my torso as I felt every emotion she felt, her lips never parting from mine.

“You’re sure?” I mumbled into her mouth, hoping she didn’t pull away from me.

“I’m so sure.” She grunted, tearing my shirt open, the sound of the buttons shooting against the walls masked by echoes of pleasure.

“Wait.” I pulled away, reaching the emergency button, and the elevator began to carry us up again.

“What— oh my goodness.” Y/N jumped up, readjusting her dress, she moved to zip it up and that’s when I stopped her.

“I’d leave it undone.” The elevator paused at our floor, I picked her up quickly, running down the hall to the room. Y/N was laughing, gripping my back tightly as I squeezed at her thighs that were wrapped around me. She moved to suck on my neck and I nearly dropped her at the sudden feeling of her tongue. I pushed her against the wall, my lips finding hers while my free hand aggressively twisted the doorknob.

“Michael, open the door or I’m gonna take your pants off right here.” 

“I’m trying.” Her laugh grew louder and uncontrollable while she watched me fight with the door. “This damn door.” I put her down, using both hands to push the damn thing open.

“Michael–”

“I got it!” She clung to me as I moved us inside, locking the door behind us. 

“You’re cute.” I felt her say against my lips. Her arms wrapped tightly around me as I walked backwards, chuckling every time she apologized for stepping on my toes.

“You’re—” We tumbled backwards, the corner of the mattress catching my leg unexpectedly as I led the way to the bed. We landed on the floor, Y/N carefully rolled off of me, cuddling into my side. Now, here we are, on the floor. Again.   

She’s actually here. Her body pressed against mine. The rise and fall of her chest brought me a great sense of comfort, one that I had been stripped of in the last few days. I can’t mess this up. I can’t lose her. I can’t make any more mistakes.

“That was smooth.” She said in between her fits of laughter. “It looked like you did a backflip. Are you okay?”

“God, I missed your laugh.”

“I missed you.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Spending the day with me. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“My heart belongs to you. That never changed.” She placed a gentle kiss at the corner of my mouth, but it ended way too soon.

“I hope it never does.”

“It won’t” She whispered, then it happened again. She looked into my eyes and the world stopped. She slowly leaned down, her lips connecting with mine. She clenched her fingers around my collar, pulling me on top of her, spreading her legs open in one swift motion. My body began to shiver as I settled in between them. Her forehead scrunched up when I pulled away, she studied my face while touching my cheek lovingly. “What’s going on in there?” she lightly tapped my temple. A worried expression grew on her face.

“I’m just thinking.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I can’t wait to start a family with you.” The whites of her eyes became more visible, her lips parted slightly as she obviously struggled with what to say next. “They’ll be brilliant. They’ll be beautiful. The more they inherit from you the better.”

I scanned every detail of her face, until her eyes captured my attention. I remember the first time I stared into them, I got lost, I became a sputtery mess. Her eyes enveloped me in a sense of warmth I’d never felt before. A sensation I only feel with her. Then, she smiled at me. My heart could barely take it, it pounded so hard I was sure she could feel it. I remember the first complement I gave her. “You’ve got a real pretty smile.” It slipped out, but I meant it. Oh, did I mean it! Y/N scrunched her nose and turned away when she nervously thanked me. She had me wrapped around her finger from that moment forward.

“That’s kind of— wait, are you saying you want to start trying for a baby?” Her voice was low and her expression difficult to read.

“I’d like to marry you first. That is, if you’ll still have me.”

The anticipation consuming me as I awaited her response was peaceful because I knew what the future entailed.

Our future.

Now, I truly understood and believed in the idea that sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.

[scoutswritingcorner]

What about an au where Striker works for I.M.P? 🥺

Striker Working for I.M.P

Striker x GN! Reader

A/N: I know you just wanted to do an AU where you wanted just Striker but I am a gay simp for this fucking maniac of a cowboy. 

TW:None?

-☠️Either you just joined or are just training with him whilst the others are out? He’s a hard teacher no doubt. He’ll critique every little thing but he means it in a nice way. He doesn’t need you getting hurt or killed on his watch.

-☠️ Will teach you hand to hand combat and how to disarm someone quickly just in case.

-☠️ A huge lonewolf still but much more easier to get along with cause he has a huge soft spot for you and only you, (he has one for the whole gang but don’t point it out)

-☠️ Still wears his cowboy get up but he strikes me as a fellow who also likes to wear sweaters and a denim jacket everywhere he goes. Also blue jeans and his iconic boots with his hat. You’ll never see him hatless unless he’s letting you and only you wear it.

Platonic Route

-☠️ Big Brother energy. He’ll annoy the shit out of you and then act like it wasn’t his fault.

-☠️ Will steal your snacks and then act like he didn’t. Don’t worry he gets you some more.

-☠️ Will fight you over some stupid shit. Like a kill or if you ate some of his food.

-☠️ Very sweet though, someone hitting on you or unwanted attention? He’s behind you and glaring at the person.

-☠️ Partner acting a fool? He’s immediately taking your side. They cheated? Their car is totaled and they have broken legs. 

-☠️ HE LOVES TALKING SHIT ABOUT EVERYONE. Just go up to him and start talking, he’s immediately focused on you and what’s going on.

-☠️ Gets Loona in on it too cause he also acts like an older brother figure to her and now it’s turned into you three around her desk spilling some fucking hot ass tea. Maybe about your ex or someone else you all collectively hate.

-☠️ Once again, he hates Stolas but he also acts like a big brother to Octavia and will take you, Loona and Octavia out on the town to just relax or have fun. Don’t worry he’s got his gun and knife if anyone tries shit. He ain’t afraid to get his hands dirty to protect his people.

-☠️ He hates photos of himself. He doesn’t like to be perceived but he will let you three take photos of him but he’s a big ole grump about it.

Romantic Route

-☠️Oh boy, he’s even more protective than before. If you both are on the job and he thinks it’s going to be a tougher kill? He’s taking it and sends you off to go check on the others. 

-☠️ That one scene in the D.H.O.R.K.S episode where Blitz and Moxxie were taken? Yeah you were with them and when Striker got you back with the others? He’s feral. He will kill anything that touches a single hair on your head.

You hang your head in shame as you listen to Blitz and Moxxie yell back and forth with one another. How did you allow yourself to get caught? The doors busted open as Millie, Loona and Striker ran over, a crazed look in his eyes. “Oh shit- You okay darling?”  He asked untying you from the chair and pulling you close, checking all over you for any injuries. “I’ll kill these bastards if they hurt ya” He snarled out.

-☠️Such a sweetheart. He’s more prone to lazing around the office with you if there’s nothing to do and will occasionally take naps. 

-☠️ Out on the town with him? He’s spoiling the fuck out of your ass. Like it’s unreal.

-☠️ Loves going to fairs with you, it’s prime time for him to get you everything and to show off his shooting skills.

-☠️In this AU Bombproof is a motorcycle cause I said so and he takes care of it like its his baby. He also gets you your own helmet and lets you ride with him through the city. Date nights are much more fun when you're speeding through each ring and seeing different sites.

-☠️Loves getting/giving good luck kisses. If you don’t give him one before a mission he thinks he’s gonna fail and it bothers him. Doesn’t matter if it’s a kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead. He wants his good luck kiss.

[allzelemonz]

Caught: Javier Esquella X Micah Bell X Male Reader X Sean MacGuire

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and some Spanish things that might be masculine-ish Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Alpha Micah Bell, Alpha Javier Esquella, Beta Sean MacGuire, a/a/o, threesome, b/o, mating cycles/in heat, scenting, slurs, kissing, anal sex, hand jobs, mentions of breeding, Spanish pet names, Alphas fighting over an Omega, possessive behavior, admission of feelings, open poly ending Summary: Your heat sets in during a job, causing the Alphas to act aggressive to the point of being unable to control themselves. Sean does his best to help out as a Beta, but it’s not quite enough.

It didn’t occur to you until Arthur started acting strange. He of all people usually has some kind of self control, very unlikely to lose his head. But he shot the train passenger all the same. He had only grabbed your arm, trying to get your gun away from you. It wouldn’t have taken much to wrestle away and hit him hard enough to knock him out, but Arthur shot him. And then when Javier got a little close, acting in his usual flirty way, Arthur snapped at him.

“Leave the Omega alone.” He had said.

Arthur also wasn’t the kind of man to bring that sort of thing up, especially on a job. It’s the sort of thing outlaws don’t care about. Only time it matters is during heats and ruts and such, separation being necessary for everyone’s sanity.

“Ya feelin’ alright there, Arthur?” Sean had asked.

But Javier had already gotten defensive. “He’s not yours, cabrón.”

That was about when it clicked.

“Sean.” You had pulled him a little closer and the Beta caught the scent then.

“Oh, we’re right fucked, we are.”

He was right, of course. A bunch of Alphas on the job with an Omega in heat, only one Beta to try and stop them from killing each other on instinct. Fucked only began to describe it. And it only got worse when Micah and Bill got to the meeting spot where you were only supposed to be splitting takes before running back to camp.

Now you find yourself caught. Sean watches the Alpha’s closely as you stand behind him. No one’s tried to kill anyone yet.

“Maybe we can get ya away?” Sean offers. “Out to a cabin an’ ya can deal with things?”

“They’ll kill each other, Sean.” You sigh. “They need a Beat around to help them keep their heads.”

“An’ you need a Beta ta keep ‘em away.”

“I see you’re smarter than you look, Sean.”

“Ah, shove it.”

Micah’s voice cuts in, louder than the rest. “Hold on, cowpokes… the Beta’s gettin’ friendly.”

Sean looks between the Alphas and the harsh looks that form on their faces. “I ain’t doing anything, boys.” He laughs. “Honest.”

“Ain’t yer place.” Bill mutters.

Arthur’s the closest, his scent hits you first and you grit your teeth not to whine. The noise you can stop, but not the slick. No, the slick seeps out and you know what that does to Alphas when they smell it fresh.

“Sean, we need to run.”

It’s not that you wouldn’t enjoy spending a heat with one of them, it’s the situation that scares you. No nest, no real privacy, no contraceptive herbs, four Alphas.

“I hear ya, big man.” Sean says shakily, his arm situated in front of you as you both back away to the horses.

But the Alphas follow with their aggressive scents in full force and the horses are more than spooked. They bolt into the trees, leaving you and Sean with significantly less options.

“What now, cowpokes?” Micah grins.

Sean panics, every bit of his instincts in this moment are to protect and he can’t find a way to do it. “You, uh, you lads can’t all have ‘em… can ya?”

He’s unsure of the tactic, trying to pit them against each other again, but Bill is easily fooled. The large man lunges at Micah, Arthur follows suit with Javier. Sean takes careful steps back, guiding you with him, until you’re far enough away to turn and run. It feels terrible and it hurts, moving so much during heat and an early heat at that.

“Okay…Okay…” Sean stalls, catching his breath. “Hope the lads don’t… kill each other…”

“Probably helps if I’m not there.” You groan, feeling the pain in your balls as the slick sitting there fills much more than it should. “Shit…”

“Ya alright?” Sean guides you to sit against a tree.

“Their fucking scents made everything come faster.”

Sean nods. “Right, right, cabin… ya need a cabin er somethin’.”

“I don’t… shit, Sean, help me.”

“Help ya?”

You nod, the pain making needles shoot everywhere. “It won’t hurt so much… if the fucking slick gets released.”

“Right.” Sean nods. “How’s tha’ work?”

You put your head back against the tree, wishing you had one of the older Betas around that actually knew what they’re doing. “Sex, Sean.”

He smiles for a moment before he registers it fully. “Ah… right.”

“J-Just a handjob.” Your hands fumble at your pants. “I… fuck, I just need to get rid of the slick.”

He watches as you get your dick out of its confines, hardened from the heat and the scents. You grab his wrist and guide his hand to it, groaning at the feeling of his fingers as they wrap around you.

“It’s not gonna take much.” You breathe. “Do it… do it fast, they’ll smell it.”

“Right… Right…” Sean nods, swallowing thickly as he moves his hand.

You try to hold things back for Sean’s sake. His face is so red and Beta’s don’t have the same reactions and instincts Alphas do. He has no idea what this kind of thing feels like and he’s probably never helped anyone through it given his age. Still, he knows how to give a handjob and he has you over the edge in minutes. The slick spurts out heavily and the pain in your balls subsides. It’ll come back when they fill again, repeatedly until you can’t make any more and your body’s had its fill of pleasure.

You take heavy breaths as Sean pulls his bandana off, wiping his hand. He moves to wipe the slick from you but you stop him.

“No point, pants are already ruined.” You groan as you stand, putting yourself away in your pants. “We gotta go.”

“You’re not going anywhere, chiquitito.”

You turn to see Javier with his gun pointed at Sean. He gestures to the side and Sean puts his hands up, following the command and stepping away from you.

He keeps his gun on Sean, turning his head to you. “Come ‘ere, sweet Omega.”

You already have his scent in your nose and your instincts drive you forward. Javier’s not a bad guy, you might’ve asked for his help anyway. One Alpha you can handle.

“Ya okay, big man?” Seans asks you.

You take a shaky breath, pulling your mind to answer. “It’s alright, Sean. Just-Just watch out for the others.”

Javier lowers his gun as you reach him, holstering it to wrap his arms around you and pull you into a kiss. His lips are soft despite the desperation he puts into it. He pulls you against him, hardly a part of your bodies not touching.

“You want me, Omega?” He grunts as you grind your dick into his.

“Help me, Javier.” You say, still holding some of your sense.

He chuckles. “You want me…” A groan as you grind into him just right. “Even when you’re not in heat, don’t you?”

“Shit, Javi…” You gasp as his hands grip tight to your ass. “I do, I really fucking do.”

“I’ll remember that, amor.” He presses kisses along your jaw, trailing until he can take in your scent from the patch. “You smell so damn sweet.”

“Bet he does, greaser.” Micah’s voice, followed by the click of a hammer.

You both freeze, but you can feel the pain coming back in your balls as the slick starts filling again. Having the scents of two Alphas isn’t helping either.

“Micah…” You whine, reaching out for him.

He takes your arm in his hand, pulling you away from Javier and into his chest. Javier turns, hands in the air as he fixes a glare on Micah. You’re not opposed to Micah helping you either, it’s them fighting about it that has you worried.

“S-Share.” You manage to get out before you groan from the pain. “It’ll help more if you…” You wince as slick forces its way out of your dick, what’s dripping from your ass not leaving fast enough. “Both of you, fuck me, please…”

Javier grins. “I can share, bello, since you asked so nicely.”

Micah’s fingers flex over his gun as he looks between you and Javier. Your hands grip at his jacket, your scent patch so close to his face. He holsters his revolver.

“Fine.” He snaps, turning to you and scenting deeply. “I’m goin’ first.”

Hands fly fast and you’re not fully sure who pulls whose pants down. Micah turns you around and Javier gets in front of you. Javier’s hands are gentle as they hold your hips still for Micah to push inside. You can feel the slick gushing out as he does, more leaving your balls to compensate and it gives you enough relief to feel the pleasure and let your instincts take over.

“Alphas…” You say in a moan.

“I think he likes your cock, Bell.” Javier mocks as his hands run under your shirt. “You want ‘em to knot you, mi amor?”

Micah’s lips press along your neck, his hips fucking into so much that you feel Javier’s clothes rub against your dick. If you weren’t in the middle of the woods, if you had a nest, you’d say yes.

“I-I… need…” You shutter from Javier’s hands on your chest. “n-nest…”

“We’ll find a place.” Micah whispers against your ear. “Nice spot ta breed ya, darlin’.”

Javier’s hand drops to your dick, squeezing as Micah thrusts. “You want us to fill you up, amor?”

His other hand goes to your stomach, fingers pressing against it just in time to feel Micah’s seed flood inside and make you swell for a moment before it leaks out without his knot to hold it in. Javier’s hand is what makes you cum, slick shooting out over his clothes.

“That’s it, corazoncito.” Javier soothes. “Let it out.”

“Cabin then?” Micah muses, his hand running over your scent patch. “Give ya a proper fuck, cowpoke?”

You nod, your voice not quite coming to you. Your scent dies down as the lull sets in and slick dries, giving the Alphas a bit of clarity as they find a good spot. Javier gets your pants, your gun belt, everything Micah had shed, and carries them in one hand as he helps you walk with the other. Micah walks in front, guns drawn in case of danger, as he searches for a cabin.

Sean is probably so occupied with the two bigger Alphas that he doesn’t have time to think about where Micah got off to. You can’t imagine having to rein in Bill and Arthur, Micah and Javier are much easier even without the scent of heat.

Micah spots a place, an old cabin in the trees. A little dilapidated, but enough to work. Javier gets you inside, lowering you to the floor carefully as Micah looks around. He comes back with some old blankets as Javier sets your belongings down.

“Ain’t much.” Micah sighs, shrugging off his jacket. “Here, cowpoke. Ya like the smell, right?”

You take it from him, too focused on putting the nest together to thank him much but the gesture does warm your heart.

“Can’t see why, you smell like shit.” Javier mutters.

“Least I ain’t covered in lady’s perfume, ya-“

“Stop.” You say plainly, still mostly focused on the nest. “Don’t like it when you fight.”

You can still smell their hostility but you can’t get the stupid blankets to sit right so you ignore it. Micah’s jacket makes a good pillow despite the leather, it’s cold so it’ll be nice when you’re overheating from all the intimacy. Most of the blankets are ratty but it’s all you have so you make it work. You’ve never had a heat so unprepared before but it seems to be turning out fine.

The ache returns and you look up at the Alphas to get out some final words while you’re all still thinking clearly. “I do actually like you both, it’s not just the heat.”

Micah shuffles on his feet before settling his hands on his gunbelt. “Coulda said somethin’ sooner, cowpoke.”

“Can’t speak for the asshole, but I would’ve been sweet if you asked, mi amor.”

Micah’s scent picks up again and you stand between them. “Stop. We figure that out when I’m over this.”

“Fine by me.” Javier shrugs. “You’re starting to smell sweet again, chiquitito.”

“I know.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes as you feel the slick threaten to drip from your ass. “Whatever you don’t want stuck smelling, keep away from the nest.”

You settle yourself back down onto the blankets as Micah and Javier shed their clothes and weapons. The heat starts to settle in again with the added excitement of seeing the men more and more nude. You take off your own clothes, tossing them away from the nest. You kind of like the shirts and you’ve managed to not get slick on them yet, you don’t plan to now. Javier is skinny, still built, but he has a certain slim frame for an Alpha. Micah is very different, still having not shed his shirt, he has a wider frame with enough extra skin to make you want to feel it. Which is why you’re disappointed when he doesn’t take off his shirt at all.

“Micah?” You can feel your mind clouding again, his probably is too. “Why the shirt?”

Javier pays no mind, settling down next to you and trailing a hand along your leg. His scent travels to you and Micah is right now that you think about it, it’s mixed with a lot of cologne.

“Ain’t nothing ta worry about, darlin’.” He says, laying down on the other side of you.

“It is if I wanna see you.” You turn to him, his scent hitting you now as well and it’s much stronger than Javier’s.

Micah distracts you, pulling you in for a kiss, before you can bring it up again. The heat really hits now, with Micah’s attention and Javier pressing himself close to you from behind. Micah lets his hands wander over your body as yours hold his face, Javier presses kisses over your neck as his hand gently feels around your hole for the slick to gather properly. You grind against it, the instincts coming over you and wanting nothing more than to be full. And Javier isn’t one to keep you waiting. He grips your hip, his knee nudging your legs apart a bit as he pushes inside. You moan against Micah’s lips and have to pull away as Javier starts to fuck into you.

“Alpha…” Your hands drop to cling onto Micah’s shirt.

His eyes flick away from you for a moment, looking behind you at the other Alpha.

“You can have him when I’m done, amor.” Javier whispers in your ear. “My Omega.”

His thrusts push you solidly against Micah and he holds in place for Javier. The feeling of Micah’s dick grinding against yours sends you over the edge, but Javier doesn’t stop. You shutter with his movements, the slick rebuilding fast but you can feel more of him now.

“Javi…” You whine. “K-Knot me, Alpha.”

He smirks against your skin, pausing the kisses along your neck. “I will, mi pequeño tesoro. Anything for you.”

Micah pulls you back into a kiss, hungry and possessive. Likely annoyed Javier’s knotting you first. His hand grabs your dick, pumping it fast. Your nose clogs with nothing with his scent as he gets angry.

“Greaser don’t feel as good as me, do he, Omega?” He growls and it makes your head spin. “Yer mine.”

“Cum for me, Omega.” Javier whispers, his hips faltering as his knot starts to build.

You do, covering Micah’s shirt in slick again, coating his hand too. Javier knots, burying himself and pumping you full with nothing able to drip out. With Javier filling you, another lull sets in and in a few seconds you all have a bit of your minds again.

Javier settles his head to rest on your shoulder. “You know, amor, good chance of, uh…”

“I know.” You sigh, your head resting against Micah’s forehead as you get a chance to admire his eyes between surprisingly soft kisses. “Hosea’ll have something to stop it.”

“Good.” Javier chuckles. “No one wants another Micah around camp.”

“Shut it, greaser.”

Javier picks his head up to look at Micah over your shoulder. “That’s starting to become a little endearing when you say it, estúpido.”

“Sounds like you wanna fuck him more than me half the time.” You mumble, agreeing.

“If I didn’t want my turn, I’d shoot ya both.”

“Your turn with him or me?” Javier laughs.

Micah growls and it makes you duck your head on instinct.

“Don’t make shit start until Javier’s relaxed, asshole.” You hiss.

He presses a kiss to your head and mumbles a hardly present apology.

Javier tightens his grip around you as he settles again. “What happened with Arthur an’ Bill anyway?”

“Hell if I know.” Micah mutters. “Don’t righty care, s’long ‘s they stay ‘way from here.”

You feel Javier trail his lips along your ear. “Omega’s choice, Micah.”

“Don’t start.” You sigh.

“I’m close enough, mi amor, might as well get started.” His hands drop a bit to softly palm your balls. “You would have fucked them too, right? Needy little Omega, just needed an Alpha ta fuck him.”

You groan at the attention from his hand. “Don’t just wanna fuck you idiots.”

“But you wouldn’t say no to them, would you?” Javier teases. “We’re sweet but you’d let them fuck you rough.”

“He ain’t a whore, Esquella.”

“Never said he was, just that he probably wouldn’t mind letting Bill and Arthur fuck him ‘til he couldn’t talk.”

“Our job.” Micah growls, pressing himself against you.

“Ooh, now you wanna share, puta.”

“Shut up…” You breathe shakily, their teasing and Alpha scents making the heat start up again in a rush. “Just… both of you fuck me, it might make things end sooner.”

“Why would we want it to end, chiquitito?” Javier muses. “You smell so sweet when you’re in heat.”

“I’m serious, Javi. It’s not safe out here, this needs to end soon.”

“‘s all right, Omega.” Micah hums. “We’ll take care ‘a ya.”

[azenorie]

morston ficrec

some (goddamned) faith by manic_intent

rating: explicit. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: that AU where arthur goes with john on his sabbatical / alternate universe - canon divergence / first time / christmas prompts/ pre-canon.

summary:

“You didn’t have to follow me,” John said, after half a day of Arthur saying not a goddamned word.

a haunting of men by ididnotmakethemoon

rating: teen & up audiences. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: vampire.

summary:

"If Arthur didn't live, at least he didn't die, either."

stangers in the night by manic_intent

rating: explicit. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: that AU where john and arthur belong to different gangs / alternate universe / alternate universe - canon divergence / first time.

summary:

John’s hand closed on the holster of his pistol. Before he could draw, someone hauled the stranger back. Big, handsome man with a red bandana and a blue flannel shirt. He smiled at the stranger with very white teeth. “Jameson, why’re you bothering a kid for?” Jameson scowled. “Ain’t none of your business, Morgan. Fuck off.” “It’s the middle of the day and I’m angling for a quiet drink. You starting a fight ain’t gonna be so quiet,” Morgan said.

new blood by manic_intent

rating: explicit. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: that omegaverse AU where alphas and omegas are a different species of people / omegaverse / alpha/beta/omega dynamics / non-traditional alpha/beta/omega dynamics / alternate universe / first time.

summary:

“You trying to get me in trouble, kid?” Arthur said as he slowed Boadicea to a walk. The skinny kid who Hosea and Dutch had fished out of some nowhere town out west scowled and straightened up in the saddle. He wasn’t much of a horseman—his ‘borrowed’ horse, the usually docile Lady May, snorted and chewed at the bit. If he’d stolen Lady May out from under the noses of everyone in camp though, he was in trouble. “Not a kid,” said the kid, sticking out his lower lip. “Name’s John.” “And how old are you, John?” Arthur gave John a pointed once-over.

rearrange me by dandywarholic

rating: explicit. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M, F/M. relationships: john marston/arthur morgan, mary gillis linton/arthur morgan. additional tags: growing up story kinda / crushing real bad but youre a rat man / and the person youre crushing on is a large Rat man / id tag low honor morgan but this is just kinda how i hc him when he was in his twenties / A BITCH / First Time / they dont have great sex education in the west / nothing happens while john is underrage / arthurs a fuckhead but hes not THAT big of a fuckhead / dubcon / sorry to anyone who read before I tagged that / I had one job

summary:

Ever since John was young, Arthur had always been incredibly mean to him. This wouldn't matter to him if it were anybody else. And he really wished Arthur Morgan were anybody else.

eye of the beholder by Yuu_chi

rating: explicit. archive warning: creator chose not to use archive warnings. categories: M/M. additional tags: hurt/comfort / post injury / pining / chapter three spoilers / Arthur's Journals.

summary:

He thinks of John last night, on his back flicking through the pages with the faintest look of wonder on his face. Of the way he’d clutched it close when Arthur had tried to pull it away. It’s enough to make his sore heart ache, and he wonders why he does this every time.

two fools west of chicago by atqi

rating: explicit. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: fluff and smut.

summary:

"You're acting strange." John said warily, his voice soft, slow, careful. It was like staring down his rifle scope at a herd of deer. One false move and he could find himself in the middle of a stampede he couldn't escape. Arthur held his jaw tight. He moved to sit up and turned, looming over him. - A younger Arthur Morgan and John Marston take a job to track down a businessman's mistress and discover an affection for each other on the road that ends up giving them both what they need. All sexual content is 100% consensual and everyone has a good time except for the one guy who gets shot, but that's not during sex.

hear the river say your name by midnights

rating: not rated. archive warning: creator chose not to use archive warnings. categories: M/M. additional tags: pre-canon / angst / fluff and angst / angst with a happy ending / major character injury / (everyone ends up ok tho) / recovery / injury recovery / kissing / smoking / anal fingering / oral sex / anal sex / getting together / hurt/comfort / they're dumb / blow jobs / outdoor sex.

summary:

figures, it would take a bullet to the gut for john to get his shit together. ft. aggressive smoking, pining, and cowboy fools

samaritan by fallen_arazil

rating: explicit. archive warning: graphic depictions of violence / major character death. categories: M/M, F/M. relationships: john marston/arthur morgan, eliza/arthur morgan. additional tags: child death / alternate universe - canon divergence / angst / relationship(s) / protective john marston / families of choice / alternate universe - bounty hunters / POV third person limited / divided loyalties / hurt/comfort / dysfunctional relationships.

summary:

Second epilogue added   Arthur Morgan followed his own advice and left the gang when he had a child (the canonical Eliza and Isaac), taking up as a bounty hunter. Along the way he picked up a young John Marston, who thus never runs with Dutch. Despite leaving, Arthur never truly left his connections behind him, and when Dutch asked for help, he always answered. In 1899, during the event of the game, this arrangement might eventually force Arthur to choose to whom he truly owes his loyalty. John sneered. "You think I'd protect Dutch Van der Linde? Believe me, if I knew where he was, I'd tell you. Hell, I'd go get him myself. He's worth 10 large right now." Milton sneered right back. "I am not a fool, Mister Marston, kindly do not treat me as one. You would do nothing without Arthur Morgan's say-so, and that will be what puts you on the gallows right beside him."

we are lost men by drow

rating: teen & up audiences. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: the classic sharing a room scene.

summary:

He wonders what John is thinking right now, with his hand raised as if to stroke his cheek. He wants to say, 'what are you doing, you damned fool' but instead. Instead, he closes his eyes.

white december by WhyWouldIEver

rating: teen & up audiences. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M. additional tags: alternate universe - canon divergence / pining / oblivious pining / kissing / john and abigail are bff / soft boys because it's christmas / arthur angry arthur sad arthur is confusion / now they’re treeeeee tree fallin’ / i love myself for that pun / legend of the east satchel logic / blizzards & snowstorms.

summary:

John's been avoiding Arthur for years, much to Arthur's confusion. A blizzard rolls in when they're riding back to the gang after a job and now they gotta find a way to keep warm while cooped up in a tiny shack to wait out the storm. Naturally, some secrets are revealed.

don't let it fool you by midnights

rating: not rated. archive warning: creator chose not to use archive warnings. categories: M/M. additional tags: pre-canon / first kiss / pining / angst / angst with a happy ending / hand jobs / bonfires / drinking / john has a crush / young arthur morgan / high honor arthur morgan / (obviously) / fluff and angst / brokeback mountain if it had a happy ending and was about arthur and john / and was also... totally different

summary:

dutch sends arthur and john to a ranch in big valley to tame a herd of wild horses. ft. horse tamin', star gazin', and pining

all of them wolves by thegoodreverend

rating: explicit. archive warning: creator chose not to use archive warnings. categories: M/M, multi. relationships: john marston/arthur morgan, abigail roberts marston/john marston. additional tags: SLOW BURN y'all / touch-starved arthur / the trapper au nobody asked for / AU / trapper!arthur morgan / bisexual arthur morgan / bisexual john marston / one good boy and one screaming raccoon trying to get out of that outlaw life / there's some abigail/john/arthur mostly just mentioned / rancher ot3 au is the fandom hill i will die on

summary:

Arthur Callahan has left a name and a lifetime behind him. He's content with a life of solitude in the foothills north of Big Valley. Things are simple, and safer than his time riding with Dutch van der Linde. Until one day, they aren't.

moving right along by devils_trap

rating: explicit. archive warning: underage*. categories: M/M. additional tags: pre-canon / john marston and his fight to prove himself / would it be weird to tag for home invasion bc that's...what this is / homestead robbery home invasion / bisexual john marston / bisexual arthur morgan / crossdressing / genderplay / not sure how to tag for that since it's all john and all kinda nebulous / period-typical homophobia / implied/referenced child abuse / period-typical sexism / though it's...arthur pigtail pulling more than anything / alcohol use / this became a super long character study sorry y'all / praise Kink / anal sex / anal fingering / rimming oral / sex / top arthur / bottom john

summary:

There’s nothing like it: the knowledge of a job well done, a plan carefully crafted, Arthur fucking Morgan's stamp of approval. Even though it hasn’t exactly happened yet, it’s going to go flawlessly, John can feel it. John made sure of it.

* john's age is not stated.

a problem shared by laetificat

rating: explicit. archive warning: no archive warnings apply. categories: M/M.

summary:

Arthur knows John like he knows his own skin.

[lazyspeedster93]

Lanolin Learns the Truth

[Tangle]: Ya see now? This is gonna to change everything.

[Lanolin]: (Tears up “Duo’s” photo) You just had to do it, didn’t you?!

[Tangle]: Me? What did I do?

[Lanolin]: You had to keep secrets from me! You had to cover for Sonic! You had to break protocol!

[Tangle]: Who cares about protocol?!

[Lanolin]: I do! I care! Because nothing bad happens when you stay on protocol!

[Jewel]: Lani, Mimic’s been playing all of us like damn fiddle, and all the while he’s been doxing info on us to our greatest enemies and the Sonic Heroes are suffering for it!

[Lanolin]: And what do you all think he’ll tell the rest of the Restoration if he gets to them first? Based on how much he’s fooled us, who do you think they’ll believe?

[Tangle]: I ain’t thinking about what Mimic or the Restoration are gonna do. I’m thinking about what we’re gonna do!

[Lanolin]: Of course you are! You never think of anyone else! Just yourself! Fantastic! Another Tangle Master Plan! I can’t wait to hear this!

[Tangle]: Don’t you wanna stop him?

[Lanolin]: NO I WANT TO KILL HIM!! I want to put Mimic in chains, and march him all the way to deepest pits of the mall so that everyone can see him for the fraud that he is! I want him to suffer, and then to die in darkness.

[therealslimshakespeare]

What is Elvis like as a father in law? I pretty much see him treating Donna and any of the other women who join the family similar to how he talked to fans at times. Everyone is darlin ', sweetheart, honey hahaha. Wanting to take everyone under his wing and spoil em. Especially Donna because she basically saves two of his kids.

This man -you’ve nailed it.

He loves people. We’ve established this. He adores his kids. Now, people who love his kids? Oh that’s just a beautiful upper tier of love from him. He loves them, he squirrels them away in rooms just one on one to grill them about their interest in a off-putting but lovingly intense way. He inducts them into the family with all the pomp and circumstance of a born performer while also taking care to give them private and subtle assurances of his welcome.

Of course there was Ella‘s fella Johnny, and the time Elvis put his dumb blonde head through the penthouse drywall. But that was no aspersion against Johnny’s good character, his valiant service to the nation as a soldier in ‘Nam or any real man-to-man dislike. It was entirely to do with a red blooded man marrying his 18-year-old baby. Elvis had sworn as a young father he’d kill anyone who came for Ella: Johnny can be glad he only has a permanent goose-egg back there from the incident. A few months of good intentions and proof that Ella is happy with her choice and all can be forgiven. Besides, Elaine seems charmed by Johnny and Elvis hates being anything but on the same page as Tink. 

Now Jack’s lady, she is a whole Lotta woman, so much Woman that some idiots might call her masculine, but that’s just her broad shoulders and brusque attitude leading you astray. Live and let live, Elvis believes, and he can sympathize with Jack. He knows a thing or two about the positive affects of your lady not letting you get away with shit. Or conversely only allowing you to in her company or under her supervision. It only takes Elvis a few months to get a read on Vic and stop trying to spoil her with jewels or perfume, instead he buys her cigars in the vain hope that she’ll stop swiping his. 

And then of course there is Danny and his precious Bee, raised most of her summers at Graceland and practically a Presley child until Shiloh had to play matchmaker and Danny had to make it weird and marry her. Oh well, at least they’re compatible and Elvis already approves.

And there’s Rosalee and her Sam Harrison, who Elvis likes well enough as he’s the son of an army buddy, even if the fool boy married someone else in the interim

and Daisy’s bloke ain’t half bad for being British, being known as Rosalee‘s kind professor, he’s got brownie points in the Presley family before Daisy attached herself to him, he’s a calming influence on that wild child and the rest of them, someone for Elvis to smoke with and talk about spiritual things.

And then there’s Donna. Now, Elvis does not have favorites, alright? He really doesn’t, Donna’s not his favorite. Don Don can’t be, as she is not a favorite, she is a fairy, a precious angel sent from above to patch up his babies and bring joy to their household. Whenever sweet Don Don is not being clutched by Jesse or gossiping with Jack or posing for Marie, her tiny self is tucked under Elvis’ armpit while he shows her his latest hyper fixation. She’s written many a caption for a polaroid after he complained of his bad handwriting and morosely wished upon a star within her earshot for some young helper to come along and aid him. Donna didn’t expect Elvis Presley to be so endearingly human -but he is, and it almost makes her forgive that horrid nickname.

…and then take into account the grand-babies that come from these…

[punks-never-die205]

Passing Fascination

Fem Reader x Yandere!Eustass Kid

CW: kidnapping, yandere Eustass Kid, violence, dubious consent, imprisonment, abuse, swearing, sex, group sex, dark content kids I am not messing around with this ♥

Summary: Three Rivers Island was a unique island on the Grand Line. It had only two rivers, but those two rivers divided the island into thirds. One far bank was tightly controlled by Marines, the other far bank was controlled by pirates unofficially, and the center section was controlled by merchants - who welcomed both Pirates and Marines.

You grew up on Three Rivers, taking care of yourself with whatever jobs you could find. Port savvy and sassy enough to keep pirates inline, you're a barmaid at the local pirate-favored tavern. When Kid and his gang come into port you're pretty sure that it's merely passing fascination between you both, but Kid seems to have other ideas.

Chapter 1: That Night, This Morning

You balanced the large tray on the edge of the table, passing out drinks as the masked first-mate stood up and helped you pass them around. “Your starting round of ale, gentlemen.” You say with a smirk. The captain rolls his golden eyes and groans while the other crew members laugh.

“That’s gonna stick, huh?” Eustass Kid grumbles. “I told you sweetheart, we ain’t gentle.”

You tuck the tray under your arm and give him a crooked smile. “Could’ve fooled me, Red.” You say with a wink. “Whatcha boys having tonight?”

Kid leans forward, he’s a little irritated by the nickname, but he hasn’t explicitly told you to stop using it. “You on the menu tonight?”

“I’m only on the menu the day before.” You answer smoothly, giving him a sly smile.

“The day before what?” Wire asks, walking into your trap.

“The day before someone asks.” You answer. It only takes a second before the table bursts out laughing. You get the crew’s orders as the ruckus dies down, even getting a begrudging order from Eustass Kid.

You wake up slowly. You had fallen asleep so hard that it was almost hard to get yourself moving, but you had to get to work so you needed to get up. Hard as you slept, you must not have overslept, because your room was dark, and the shaky place you called home wasn’t light-proof.

Something pinged in the back of your mind as you pushed yourself upright, but you couldn’t sort out what it was in your morning haze. Your clothes were –

Wait.

Clothes?

You grab at your shirt as you sit up fully. You rarely went to bed in anything, it was too hot on the island even at night, and you couldn’t afford a fan to stay cool. But you were still in your clothes from your date with Kid.

The evening continues on without anything else of note happening. Once you’re done entirely and heading home – thank the seas you weren’t stuck closing – you step out into the night air and see Eustass Kid waiting for you.

None of his other crew was around, and he wasn’t hiding in the shadows. He was a massive guy, and far more than just a little intimidating, but he seemed to be doing everything he could to appear less so. Something about the effort alone makes you relax.

“What’s got you waiting out here, captain?” You inquire, looking up and down the street before stepping closer.

He gives you a look that pointedly answers your question and you can’t stop the nervous chuckle that escapes you.

“What time is it?” He questions, cracking his neck as he stretches a little.

“Mm, it was about 11:40pm when I walked out. Can’t be much later than that.”

“Perfect.” He says with a grin, coming over to you and stopping just far enough away you didn’t have to crane your neck to see his face. “I can put my order in for you for tomorrow then.”

“You – can… you…” You stammer a few times, feeling the heat rush up into your face. “I – I’m… flattered.” You take a step back, and clear your throat. “But… I don’t want to be anyone’s port-whore or port-girl or whatever. I… I have a very strict no-sailors rule.” You insist, waving a hand in front of yourself.

“… Just for a meal then.” Eustass concedes, giving you a look and a grin that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Let me treat you. Is there a fancy place you like in that middle island?”

“I, yes, but I mean…” You stammer. “I – I won’t budge, Mr. Eustass. I don’t want you to think I’m u-using you.”

“Using me?” Kid looks amused.

“For a… for a f-free meal, I mean.” You say apologetically. “The… the Avant Garde is an aptly named restaurant, with prices to match.”

He steps toward you, kneeling before he reaches out and brushes your cheek with the back of his finger. “No one uses me,” he says softly. “One meal. A second if you enjoy yourself. I won’t force my way into your pants.” He gives you a toothy grin. “It’s no good if you’re not begging me for it.”

As you’re more alert now, you realize what was bothering the back of your mind earlier. The room wasn’t just dark, it was windowless, and the soft rocking sensation was another problem.

You were not in your room.

The room was dark, but it wasn’t completely devoid of light. A transponder snail – the type for playing recordings – was sitting on a desk not too far away. It wasn’t looking at you, it was just projecting a blank image onto the wall, which created a bit of light in the room. Aside from the snail you were alone.

It smelled a little of oil, but mostly of oak and liquor. There was a subtle scent of ocean water, but the room was dry and the scents were crisp – clean.

Getting out of bed as your eyes adjusted, you stepped around the room carefully. There were shelves of books built into the walls with bars across them. Not in a way to stop anyone from getting to the books, but you assumed a way to keep them in place when the waters got choppy. It looked like there used to be more in the room, as though it was missing chairs and small knickknacks and other things that usually made a room look lived in.

You weren’t sure if things were removed to tidy the room, or if they were removed because of you, but you were fairly certain that you’d been kidnapped.

The steady rocking was unmistakable, and you knew for certain at least that you were on a ship. Your heart was nearly in your stomach, and your stomach was by no means steady the more you came to realize, but you walked toward the doors to the room regardless.

You put a hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath. What would you do if it opened? You didn’t know the layout of any ship, what good would leaving the room do? If you could find a room with a window you could jump into the ocean. You had no idea how long the ship had been at sea, but every moment pulled you further from your island, you were certain of that much.

No part of you ached. No one had, as far as you could sense, touched you. Aside from whatever it took to get you on this ship in the first place. You were being treated kindly, but that was irrelevant right now.

Waiting in here did you no good so you put pressure on the handle and winced as it slowly rotated, allowing you to crack the door open. Light from the hallway spilled in, and you gave your eyes a moment to adjust before opening it wide enough to step out in the hall.

The quiet was a little unnerving, but you’d take whatever graces you were given. You strained your hearing to gather any useful sounds as you moved quickly and quietly down the hall. You were still in your clothes from the date, minus your shoes, but the shoes were noisy so you were okay without them. You were just grateful you’d opted for a nice shirt and some capri pants for your date. Shuffling around in a dress would’ve been a hassle.

You could hear the sounds of people sleeping as you worked your way down the hall. You didn’t want to open the door to an occupied room, so you continued onward. Eventually, you came to a door with a window in it – moonlight hitting the wall from outside.

It was still dark outside, which meant that most of the crew would likely be asleep, and not just a few loud snorers recovering from a night shift. You stopped by the door, cursing your height, and inability to see out the window effectively. If someone was watching the door, it would be better to just walk out of it and take stock of what you could as fast as you could. Otherwise, you’d end up pinned before you could make it onto the deck.

Stepping through the door you stepped around and took in what you could. A mostly empty, broad deck, with what looked like a few people resting up against the railings. The moon was bright, and you were glad your clothes were fairly dark in color, if you’d gone with something pastel you’d be lit up like a beacon compared to everything else.

You didn’t want anyone to notice you until you were within leaping distance of the rail. You were currently the smallest thing on this ship, you were sure of it.

These men were big – wide, tall, full of muscles and scars and spikes and leather and ostentatious furs. Even the women in the crew fit the aesthetic. These looked like people who could level a tavern because they had a good time, and then leave enough money to rebuild the place better because they wanted to come back later to a better time.

And woe to the tavern owner not able to comply.

But their behavior was keeping the other pirate crews in line by default. Eustass “Captain” Kid and his crew were part of the worst generation, bounties in the millions. Bounties created a kind of hierarchy among pirates – most wouldn’t cause a commotion when higher bounties were around. They’d happily join in if those pirates started shit though, of that you could be sure.

Despite the higher-than-average collection of pirate vessels, the port thrived. It was one of the best places in the New World to stock up. Part of the island was tightly protected and controlled by the navy, but the other two thirds of it was very loose on the rules. Two rivers divided the island neatly.

The center island facilitated things between the two extremes, creating a unique situation all the way around. Pirates and Marines rarely ventured into the center area, a place almost exclusively controlled by merchants and couriers, with pockets deep enough to afford guards that could keep both marines and pirates in place. There were rumors some of the guards were ex Cipher Pol agents, or people who only quit being pirates when they barely survived facing the Emperors.

So, by that alone, there weren’t many people who could give them a hard time. Thus, a tidy balance was struck on the island – one that was mutually beneficial for everyone involved.

Three Rivers’ port was big, and busy, and if you were still anywhere near, you’d be able to at least find a passing ship. Statistically your chances were pretty good. You were a strong swimmer, and as you reached the rail you hadn’t heard anyone stirring or paying you any mind. Looking at the horizon, you were certain you could see the island.

You walked steadily alongside the rail looking for a lifeboat. The release would make noise, but so would you if you leapt overboard. You could get further faster in the rowboat, and once your arms gave out you could just ditch the boat and swim. It would take time for the larger boat to turn around and come after you.

You were nearly at the stern of the ship when you saw what you needed. A small, two-person at most and probably just large enough to hold a single crew member from this crew, rowboat with a quick release. Considering the vibe of the crew that you came to know over their week in port, you doubted it was for someone to run away. Whatever it was used for, it’s what you needed right now.

The wind was coming in straight from the island, and that put luck on your side. Turning into the wind was going to be hard for the big ship, and the wide arc would give you time enough to reach the shore.

Hopping into the boat you gave it as thorough a check as you could spare. Seeing no major damage or cracks, and finding two well-cared for oars, you braced yourself against the rails and kicked the quick release hard. It sent a jolt up your foot that made it throb, but you’d have to worry about any major injury later.

The boat dropped, hitting the water loudly.

Water curled up around the sides and splashed into the boat, but not enough to sink the small vessel and it buoyed onto the water’s surface easily enough. You gave your stomach half a second to settle from the intense drop and set both the oars.

The oars hit the water as the call rang out on the ship, and you stayed still. The ship was moving away from you under its own power, and the longer it took for the people on board to sort out what happened the better for you.

There was no sense in giving yourself away by rowing and making more noise.

Seconds stretched into a minute, two minutes, the ship was far enough away now that no one was going to be able to hook and haul you back in, so you started rowing. The commotion was covering your sounds at this point as well, and you were experienced at rowing.

You weren’t going to panic and work harder than you needed to. Setting your feet against the second bench you braced yourself and made long, slow, full strokes, letting what power you had from years of bartending and running row boats through the shores for testing help you.

Dip, twist, haul, twist, lift. It was almost soundless as you rowed the boat away.

It wasn’t noise that gave you away, eventually it was the moon.

“Straight off the stern!” Came the call. “Fuck, how’d she get so far?!”

You grin a little. The only change you make are the twists. There’s no need to set the oars in or lift them quietly. Rowing is power over speed though, so you didn’t pick up your pace. You didn’t hurt your foot too bad kicking the quick release either, it wasn’t bleeding enough to be seen and it only throbbed a little from the point of impact.

Considering you’d been kidnapped by pirates, your luck was winning through. Once you got ashore and got your bearings sorted you could work on trying to remember how you ended up on Eustass Kid’s ship.

For now though, you needed to stay focused on rowing as efficiently as possible.