#ya'll I was about to go to bed grumpy but after seeing this there is not an ounce of grumpiness in me

[glitterforashes]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐞. ; 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 (𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑) 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

>>>>> hey ya'll, first post since the beginning of time basically. happy new year! i was reading some cassian headcannons recently anddd i just don't like the way he's baby-fied. like, did you guys even pay attention in silver flames?? he's very much a tough love kinda guy. so i thought i'd share my take on how he'd treat you if you were his partner! also sorry if the formatting is weird, from this point on i'll be writing from my laptop!

he doesn't mind you wearing his clothes, but he prefers you don't.

he'd take it as you don't have enough of your own clothes to wear and would buy you more.

loves lethal but pretty women. like, knowing you could take down a full grown male whilst wearing a dress.. whoooo he will be allll over that.

needs a partner who doesn't depend on him to breathe. he values independence and strength within ones self.

checks on you, subtly. does not ask "are you okay?", just walks by wherever you are and gets a read on you and your body language to distinguish if you're alright or not.

if he deducts that you're not okay, then he'll ask.

he'd stand in front of you and just ask straight up what's wrong. won't ask "is something bothering you?"-- he already knows something is bothering you. he just needs to know why.

loves to instigate and push your buttons, only if you're grumpy. knows when to be serious.

imagine you're just in a pissy mood. he's the kind to poke your sides and say things to annoy you to see you pout / get mad.

ends up making you laugh in the end.

is a practical and sentimental gift giver. doesn't believe in buying crap you don't need. unless you ask nicely and give him a kiss.

his love language is acts of service. if you wake up before him in the mornings when he has a mission to make him coffee-- he loves that.

loves coming home after missions to you if you didn't go with him. first thing he's doing is scooping you up and holding you for a while.

isn't very affectionate in public. definitely favors that silent communication you guys have.

eyes you down from across the room, communicates through eye contact and small gestures and smirks.

around the inner circle he's a little better. becomes more flirtatious and teasing.

don't get it twisted-- he makes it known that you're reserved at home and out and about.

his scent is all. over. you.

is extremely jealous. it's not an insecurity thing though. it's more like "how dare this low-life have the audacity to speak to my woman?"

isn't very touchy unless it's behind closed doors. he's definitely a stereotypical elevator boyfriend. like, if you two were in an elevator, he'd be on you before you could blink.

is literally so funny unintentionally. makes you laugh so much you get stitches in your side.

eats. like. a. horse.

this man is huge. gigantic even. a ford f150. it's no surprise he has the appetite of a great white shark.

he would 100% dutch oven you. dies laughing everytime he does.

is undyingly loyal and loves you so much it would make him puke, but that doesn't mean he'll just throw away his own self respect and morals.

tells you when you've messed up or been rude. is always straight up and honest even if you're not going to like what he has to say, because he wants the best for you, but he's not going to spoon feed it to you.

he doesn't really care about physical appearance-- but he cares about the way you carry yourself. for example, if you're walking around the house in casual clothes that you've been in the past two days he doesn't care and will still be all over you, but if you show up to an important meeting in like leggings and a blouse he's gonna be upset.

everyone knows the night court has a certain appearance to upkeep. he will not tolerate you messing that up for yourself, or for the rest of the circle.

loves you though!

"cass. go away." you grumbled, standing at the foot of your bed that was covered in various papers, maps, and documents you would rather throw into a fire than actually read through. cassian was hovering behind you, hands on his hips, dressed casually for once. he had just returned home from a three day long mission to the autumn court, and he was all but ready to get some much needed alone time with his partner. "i've been gone for days and you can't look away from your work long enough to kiss me?" his voice was suddenly against the curve of your ear and his arms had found their way around your waist. his chin came to rest atop your head as he looked down at the pile of papers as well, a small smile gracing his lips as he felt (and heard) the sigh you let out. "you're being a distraction." despite your uninterested tone and the furrow in your brow, you had to stop yourself from instantly melting into him. the familiarity and comfort of his warmth, scent, and general touch enveloped you all at once and made it hard to think straight.

"hmm," his hands began snaking down to your hips, being way too light and feathery with the touch to be purely innocent with no ulterior motive to tickle you. "you don't usually mind distractions when it's me." he teased. you turned in his arms and faced him, ready to tell him off for being annoying when suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground and your back was on the mattress. well, the papers that covered the mattress. in the blink of an eye cassian was straddling your thighs and tickling your waist, pinning you down with his enormous body. "cassian!" you shrieked, still annoyed at him but involuntarily starting to laugh at the sensation. you were simultaneously worried about ruining the documents and laughing at him as you flailed, the smile on his face only making things worse. or better. you couldn't decide just yet.

"say you missed me." he cooed, tone smooth and playful as you thrashed like a fish in a fishing net, hands uselessly slapping at his biceps and chest. you gasped for air, trying to force the words out and failing. you could only manage one word responses. "cassian--" you wheezed, "i missed-- stop it!" you pleaded, now too amused to care about the mess you were making of your previously meticulous layout. "cass i can't-- i can't breathe!" cassian laughed at the way your cheeks turned pink with the force of your laughter, his hands coming to a suspicious still. "say it," he chuckled, leaning down until your noses were touching. he gazed into your wide eyes with his lidded ones, a smirk on his face as he ran his hands up and down your abdomen, waiting.

"i missed you," you huffed, out of breath and still slightly giggling. mostly in fear that he'd start tickling you again but still. "awe, what was that? i can't quite hear you." he put his ear towards your lips as you laughed again, no longer angry or worried about anything in the world. "i said i missed you!" you tilted his face to you in the same moment he began laughing and pulled him into a kiss, both of you laughing and giggling through the entire thing. you broke apart smiling, watching him as he sat up and grabbed you by your hips before flipping the both of you over effortlessly, positioning you so that you were lying on his chest and he was lying on his back.

"let me hold you," he mumbled into your hair, making you laugh again. "i have work to do." "i'll help you do it later. let me hold you." he repeated, and you obliged. "what would i do without my big illyrian baby?" you mumbled against him, finding immense comfort in the rumble of his chest that came when he chuckled. "who knows?" he asked. and you decided you didn't even want to think about it.

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

FRICK OH MY GODS THIS IS SO DANG CUTE 😭

Aight,

Bet.

Normally, yuu would be wary of something, anything, touching them while they're having a crisis, buuuuuuuut they totally have a soft spot for stuffed animals and desperately needs a not-bone-chrushing-hug

TEDDY BEAR COMES FROM @yuus-sentient-teddy

CHARACTER IS AN OC THAT IS A PERSONIFICATION OF THE MC IN @undead-livs twst true villans au

[nohrenvia]

Low Battery

"When they're exhausted and wants to be spoiled."

(Bucciarati's Gang Edition)

Bruno Bucciarati

Okay, I'll be honest with you. Half of Naples already knew who this capo is and ya'll know who the citizens gonna call if something goes terribly wrong or if the law enforcement don't work.

So it's no surprise if your beloved Bucci got home looking like he just ran across Naples as if he was the city's errand boy.......well, he technically is.

Bruno Bucciarati is a kind man, but he has his limits. There are times when the man gets tired of being a mama a cold-blooded gangster and taking care of his team.

Rather than venting it out with violence, he'll opt to seek for your attention.

Bucciarati would usually arrive home with a tired, but relieved smile. However, if he's exhausted that day, then it's a different story.

When Bucciarati is home after a harsh day of being a mafioso, the first thing he'll do is to find you.

"Let me recharge." He gently picks you up and takes you to bed.

He'll lay with you beside him. With his face buried in your chest, he tells you all about the events he encountered that day and about his teammates

You would undo his braid as he talks, combing your hand through his hair.

And when Bucciarati realizes what you are doing, he's touched. He'll whimper out your name over and over again in a sweet voice, trying to drown his troubles away, and burying his face deeper into your chest.

When you notice he's getting quiet, Bucciarati already fell asleep.

He seems to have recharged his batteries♡

Leone Abbacchio

Well, you might've already knew it.

This grumpy and brooding goth bf doesn't say anything if he's exhausted, so you have to guess it and take action.

If you're dumb or if you're smart, it doesn't matter. It's a hit or miss if you want to predict his mood.

The telltale sign if he's fatigued is pulling you closer to him without a word. Well, it's that or he just want to be close to you ♡w♡

You already picked up the signs, and you don't resist his embrace, staying quiet. You encricled your arms around him and hugged him lovingly.

"Do you want something to drink?" You asked.

"No. Just stay like this."

You don't usually spoil him at this stage, but when he calms down, please spoil him as much as you want!

Give him a bath, feed him something healthy because lord knows Abbacchio doesn't take care of himself enough.

Clean his make-up tenderly, drop some light kisses on his face if you want. Even though he grunts and grumps, don't be fooled. He actually enjoys it.

And please don't give this man alcohol.

Lastly, please don't let him go, Abbacchio spent too many nights wallowing in the middle of the night, haunted by his past.

With you by his side, he doesn't mind to face his nightmares of the past, because he's reassured by the fact that his future would be kinder since you are here in his life.

And so, with your presence, Abbacchio's exhaustion would disappear by tomorrow

Guido Mista

Mista's easy to understand. See his body language, you'll understand without much thinking.

"(y/n)..." he whined.

You're sitting on the sofa when he's finally home in the afternoon. There's Mista, shoulders slumped, eyes heavy, dragging his legs to where you sat.

"What is it, Guido? Ah, Guido--!"

He lifts you up to put you on his lap, an arm around your waist, holding you from behind while you're watching TV or something.

The thing here is, Mista likes to blow off the steam by pestering his amore.

By pestering, I mean initiating some lovey-dovey moments with you.

Sometimes Mista kisses your neck or rubs his face against your shoulder.

Or his hands could be wandering around your body to feel the softness of your skin. Or maybe fondling if he's feeling playful that day.

By doing this, he's distracting his mind from his tough day at work. This is Guido Mista's way of recovering his lost energy batteries.

Of course, you wouldn't deprive him of your attention and affection.

When you took off his hat to stroke his head directly, Mista will whine and moan even more.

"(y/n)~ C'mon, you ain't gonna stop there, yeah?"

Oh great, now he wants to be even more spoiled.

But, you'll take responsibility, won't you?

After all, Mista's tiredness and worries are floating away as you're babying him. Why stop there?

Narancia Ghirga

He's also easy to understand.

If you're not around, his energy depletes rather quickly.

Narancia's mood would go sour if he's tired. He won't take anymore nonsense from anything by the end of the bad day.

If something's bothering him, his nerve would snap faster before you can say his name. If they blocked his way from getting to you, just remember he has a pocket knife to solve that.

"(y/n)!" He calls out.

Narancia's eyes lights up with sparkles as soon as he finds you before proceeding to squeeze the daylights-- I mean, hugs you.

Don't you worry, he just missed you! He yearns for your presence a lot that by the time he has you in his arms, Narancia lets out a "Hehehe! Cara, I miss you so much!"

Then he'll rub his face against your body to prove how much he means it

"Nara, it hurts!"

"Oops, sorry!" He recoils to face you but his arms are still entangled to your body.

This rowdy Ghirga giggled while flashing a boyish grin, so wide you could see his teeth.

When you wrapped your arms around him to hug him, Narancia is surprised! But he returns to his happy state afterwards.

Oh, but be careful, dear!

Narancia recharges fast. His energy bar is maxed up by the second you both let go from the hug.

"Bella, let's hit up the gelato stall!" Narancia clasped your hand in his, running through the city of Naples with you in tow.

At this rate, you're going to be the one whose energy needs to be recharged!

Pannacotta Fugo

Poor Fugo...

Even an idiot could see he is dead tired.

But he doesn't want to be honest with you!

Moreover, he refuses to admit that he wants to be pampered! Therefore, all he could do was standing next to you, hoping you would do something.

Of course, you know what he's doing. So you did what he likes the most, petting his head.

Before long, he breaks free to embrace you, followed by him kissing your cheek, forehead, nose, neck, anywhere he wants.

"I want you to do the same," he pleads. Fugo hovers above you, while your bodies laid on the bed, instead of the ceiling, all you could see was his face, "Can you.....please indulge me?" He gives a destructive upwards glance.

Why destructive, you ask? Isn't it obvious?

Those eyes of his, glazed with a thin layer of desire. It's not good for your heart.

This side of Fugo is capable of melting and softening your heart.

A tired Fugo is a vulnerable Fugo. Well, at least, he showed it exclusively to you. Anyone else would have faced his wrath, he doesn't have the time to dilly-dally when his energy is going down the drain.

You don't have it in you to deny him. Not when you've made him, the touch-starved Fugo, addicted to your affection.

Your touch spreads warmth throughout his body. He could feel his exhaustion drifting away.

So, of course you gave in to his wishes, and indulged him.

Usually, he was the Fugo with an IQ of 152. But, when he's drained of his energy, his brain would forget a lot of things because it craved you.

But, sometimes the pampering meter goes off the rails, so the skinship gets more intense.

Ah, you can stop now, (y/n). I think Fugo's getting love drunk.

Giorno Giovanna

Now where should I start with this golden brat boy?

Giorno is the same Giorno when he's tired.

Alright, that's a lie.

Giorno is the type of person who hides his exhaustion well. If you look closely, you'll see the signs of a tired person within him. Half-lidded eyes, drooped shoulders, fatigued body language, you name it.

But, somehow, he's not the same polite Giorno.

In his drained and worn-out state, he'll chastise anyone and everyone even Abbacchio if they approach him the wrong way.

Well, even if it's the right way, Giorno would soon forget what he heard and hastily excuses himself to get away from them.

Yet, he'll use less sharper words if someone insists on commenting.

But, worry not. Giorno is softer around the people he cares about. You included, of course.

You two are inseperable.

You stick together all the time, except on missions since you can't disobey the boss's orders.

Coincidentally, you are both exhausted from the trials and tribulations of Passione.

Because you don't want to be disturbed, both of you stayed in your shared room, tangling yourselves on the bed.

"Don't leave me yet." he cooed as he buried his face in your chest. You just want to change your clothes, but it seems Giorno doesn't want to let go of you yet.

You untied his hair and unraveled it with your hands. Gently, caressing and scratching his scalp.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

But, Giorno's face is a contrast to his words, he looks happy because he liked to be touched by you.

"Ssshh, just relax." You induced him. Giorno for once, let's go of his burdens, melting away under your fingertips, his energy recharging slowly but surely as you let him relinquish in your attention.

This golden boy is also touch-starved, so don't be confused if he suddenly asked for more in the future.

"Tesoro, I'm tired." Giorno stood in front of you in all his don glory.

"And?" You asked, but you could already perceive what he longs for.

It doesn't change just because he became the don.

"Please don't make me repeat the same thing twice." Giorno hissed, but his blush was clear as day. The way he aches for your touch, it sents shivers down your spine.

The choice is up to you. Would you give Giorno what he wants? Or would you make Don Giovanna beg on his knees to receive it?

[forbidding-souda]

Hey could I get Hajime, Nagito, and Chiaki with an aggressive/agitated sleeper?

Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, and Chiaki Nanami with a S/O who is an aggressive sleeper

ya'll I found my favorite show on a free movie site and then apparently it's on disney plus so I

I used to be a hella aggressive sleeper so I'm gonna assume I know what you're talkig about.

currently listening: inamourada - 2019 mix by london after midnight

playlist: london after midnight mix

✯✯✯✯✯

-Mod Souda

✯✯✯✯✯

Hajime Hinata

✯ He's gonna try to find solutions, firstly. He is gonna do things like putting a wall of pillows between the two of you, else put you in a sleeping bag (not really, but he was thinking about it). When you annoy him too much he is going to grab a blanket and wrestle you into a cocoon. Whether you wake up during this struggle or not has no affect on the outcome.

You laugh, throwing a pillow on his stomach before jumping on it. "It's not funny," he says. "I think it's funny." You brush a few strands of hair away from his forehead. You had waken up in the middle of him forcing you into a cocoon, and you had someone managed to out strong him and escape from it. The loss made him grumpy. "See," you give him the lightest of kisses, "next time I'll let you win." "You'll let me?" "We'll see how generous I feel next time you wake me up." I could say the same, he thinks.

✯ He take punches like a champ so tbh eventually he'll deal with it.

✯ Intrusive thoughts will win and he'll elbow you back before being like god damnit why did I do that.

✯ You do have your own blanket, though. He hopes this makes your struggle a little less aimed at him. It's weighted.

✯ This man will drive you to the building of a sleep specialist and then leave you there.

✯ Where he draws the line is when you push him off the bed. That's when the forced blanket cocoon starts.

✯ Talking in your sleep is a no-go, he is going to leave the room, that shit is trippy.

.

Nagito Komaeda

✯ It usually only happens when something good proceeds it, of course. He knows when it's coming, too. The two of you will have an excellent date, and that night he will have a helpless smile on his face as he awaits the inevitable. He doesn't complain, since the whole thing means that something amazing will happen afterwards. Plus, it's not that bad. He's been through worse. Flying elbows and grumpy faces affects him none.

He had made his journey to the kitchen, getting waters, since now that he's waken up first he's made it his job to get you some water for the morning. He likes being considerate like that. He reenters the bedroom to find you already awake. "Good," you sigh. "I thought I had finally killed you in my sleep." "No," he says. "You're not that lucky..." You take the water from him and wave his words off. "No, but I've gotten close." He softly laughs, and you eye him to make sure he's not actually agreeing with you. He hums. "Ahah, but did you find yourself sleeping well?"

✯ If you didn't already know you sleep like a maniac, he isn't going to tell you. You won't find out.

✯ You won't find out at all.

✯ Your episodes of pushing him off the bed and growling in your sleep just means he's going to invest in a coffee machine (which breaks, because of course it does).

.

Chiaki Nanami

✯ Hey, stop making her lose her game. She will get up from bed and slide down the closest wall if it means that you'll stop bothering her. She has a hard time sleeping as it is, and your little unconscious gimmicks are not a fun thing to deal with. She is not going to actively find solutions as to make you stop, she is going to find ways to prevent herself from being involved with it.

"Where did the blue one go?" You eye the handheld console she's playing on. "Hm?" "You had... a blue one, didn't you?" "Oh yeah," she speaks with empty, distracted words. "You broke it." Your nose scrunches. "No, I didn't." "Yes," her eyes meet yours, even as she continues tapping. "In your sleep." You don't remember, of course you don't. She was playing in bed when you had sent your arm flying, knocking it to the floor aggressively. She has dozens of different consoles, so it's not like she was going to force you to apologize or cry over a broken game. It was just a funny thing she likes to tell Hajime about - it's cute.

✯ You can be one of the reasons she sleeps standing up all the time LMFAO.

✯ If you talk in your sleep then that's something that scares the shit out of her.

✯ She is keeping important things off of the bedside table. Just in case. Just in case...

[its-deputy-caleb]

Any chance I could request some first time Morbell? Throwing a mix of soulmate au? *-* You're a blessing to this fandom thank you very much for your work 💕

sksks okay so this is v unedited but i was a little too excited to write this and yes i turned the stinky, cranky micah into a blushing virgin what are ya'll gonna do about it so pls enjoy whatever the hell this turned out to be <33

————————————

'You're my soulmate?!'

Fucking soulmates.

Micah hated the whole idea of having to wait to meet someone just to see colours. To him it was the dumbest thing, but that’s really only because his whole miserable life was only made that much more miserable because everything was black and white.

Deep down Micah was nervous about having a soulmate. He’s nearly forty for fuck sake and he’s a goddamn outlaw, something like a soulmate shouldn’t make his stomach flip or his heart rate pick up but it’s always in the back of his mind. At night when he lies awake his mind can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have his arms around someone, to actually see the world in colour… but he knows the thought is foolish and so he pushes it to the back of his mind before the sun comes up.

He’s just glad his soulmate is Bill ever since the man fell asleep practically on top of him when the two were smacked out drunk. He shakes his head at the thought of having to share a bed with the grumpy old veteran, Bill was much more pleasant as a drinking buddy.

—

With all the mess of blackwater, running away to colter and robbing their way down to Horseshoe Overlook, Micah completely forgets about the whole soulmate thing.

All he knows is that the gang are beyond broke, everyone is tired of running and somehow Swanson’s singing has everyone grouchier than ever.

“Boss I know I can get the money, just send me back to Blackwater— it’ll be easier if it’s just me.”

Micah was once again trying to convince Dutch to let him go to Blackwater to collect the huge sum of money they’d left there. He’s not sure if he would actually betray Dutch, that decision could be make after the man even let him leave.

“You give that slimy rat any chance to run off with the money and he’ll betray all of us in an instant. Don’t let him Dutch.”

Fucking hell. Micah hated Morgan. He just had to go and put his nose in everything, had to go and act like the hero around everyone acting like he knew better than everyone. He made Micah’s skin crawl, having to deal with the man always gave him a headache.

Ever since Micah joined the gang six months ago, Arthur was constantly breathing down his neck for even breathing. They never spoke unless they were arguing and neither of them went on jobs because Dutch was so worried one would shoot the other before they even had a chance to rob someone.

“Take it easy cowpoke, what makes you think little old me would do such a thing. I’m a son of Dutch— same as you, I just wanna see everyone safe.”

Micah gave one of his classic sly laughs, one that always had Arthur’s blood boiling but Micah was always one to stir up trouble.

Arthur grabs Micah by the lapels of his leather jacket then, pulling him much to close as he shakes him which knocks his hat off in the process.

“You son of a bitch— talking like you’re one of us, like you give a shit! All you care about is yerself.”

Micah doesn’t really process what happens next. It’s not until Arthur’s fist collides with his face does he fall to his knees on the ground. The punch isn’t necessarily hard, Micah’s survived way worse but the burst of colour behind his eyes has his legs weak and his head ringing.

He’s painfully aware of the green grass between his fingers, the fact that his pants are not as white as he thought but are instead more of a beige colour. He notes the deep red of his waistcoat in contrast to his black shirt and the fact that the silver on his boots catch the blue light of the sky above them.

The whole thing as Micah’s head spinning as he takes in what the world really looks like around him, still panting on the floor right in the middle of camp.

Above him Arthur is just as shocked, maybe even slightly confused. He doesn’t know, nor does he really care in this moment. Morgan leans down with a hand on Micah’s forearm, pulling him to his feet in a much gentler manner than how he acted before.

“Shit Micah I—“

Micah cuts Arthur off, pushing him away as he scrambles to hide on the edge of camp.

“Piss off Morgan, leave me the hell alone.”

—

Micah needed to cool off for a bit, to actually process what the hell just happened.

Arthur goddamn Morgan was his soulmate. He didn’t know what to make of it as he drank from the small bottle of gin he found in his pocket.

So Micah drinks on the edge of camp, far away from the campfire or any of the gang members who certainly saw the whole thing. And when the drink runs out he thinks, over and over in his head about exactly what to do about the fact that Arthur the man who he supposedly despises with every bone in his body is his soulmate.

Hours tick by and the sun has long gone down. Micah spent the entire time stress smoking his last packet of premium cigarettes and picking at the skin under his nails nervously. All the thoughts he’s had about what he’d do with his soulmate now involve Arthur.

He thinks about having Arthur’s arms around him at night, inside their shared tent or getting to cuddle by the campfire like all the other couples in the gang and Micah hates himself for the fact that he actually likes the idea.

Eventually, he hears the leaves break under someone’s boot and his breath literally dies in his throat as he sees who’s walking towards him. Of course it just happens to be Morgan.

The man is holding two beers in one hand as he sits down beside him, his back hitting the tree. Arthur passes him one of the beers, gesturing for him to take it.

“Here… a peace offering.”

Micah gently takes it from him, the condensation around the outside of the beer offering to cool his much too warm and sweaty palms.

They sit in an awkward silence for a moment as Micah watches the end of his cigarette burn out. Arthur stares at the ground instead, idly playing with a stick as he thinks of something to say.

“I’m sorry… for saying you didn’t have a place here in the gang— I never gave you a chance to even settle in.”

Micah flicks the butt of the cigarette away, watching the last of it burn out in a pile of dirt.

“Guess I wasn’t the friendliest either…”

It’s the closest thing Arthur will get of an apology from Micah and he seems to accept it with a soft laugh. The air feels lighter after that, as if their admission had pushed them over the awkward line that both of them were rather nervous to cross.

Arthur gives him a warm smile then, one that surprises Micah as they finally look at each other. Out of nervousness, Micah fiddles with the label on the beer bottle. Arhtur looks down at his own, looking over the bottle as if to try and see why Micah found it so interesting to look at all of a sudden.

“Ya know, I always thought bottles would be a nicer colour like green or blue… wasn’t really expecting to find out beer comes in a brown bottle.”

Both of them laugh at that, in some weird way Arthur’s dry jokes making the two of them let out the breath they were holding in.

This time when they fall into silence, it’s a comfortable one.

Slowly, ever so slowly as the two of them relax, Arthur’s hand reaches out and brushes over Micah’s. It’s fleeting and only just there but Micah feels his face grow bright red as Arthur’s fingertips brush over his knuckle.

Micah looks away from him, hiding his face under his hat as he turns his hand over and feels Arthur’s own lace their fingers together.

They stay like that for around an hour and Arthur can’t stop smiling at how flustered Micah is just from holding his hand. At some point he thought he’d stepped out of line or gone too far but Mich just squeezed his hand slightly to let him know without saying it that he was happy.

Their silence is broken after Micah yawns and Arthur wonders if the man will ever pitch his tent while with the gang.

“Would you like to stay in my tent tonight?”

Micah turns to look at him then, an unsure and weary as his eyes drift down to their combined hands.

Arthur gives a soft smile, shaking his head as he squeezed Micah’s hand in reassurance.

“You can say no Micah, it’s okay.”

Micah looks back up at Arthur then, his eyes wide as he looks nervous.

“Can I think about it?”

Nodding, Arthur stands up to leave him to his thoughts again but not before wishing him a goodnight.

—

When Micah wakes up the next morning under the same tree, the first thing he notices is Arthur’s blue coat draped over him.

He looks back over to Arthur’s tent, noticing he’s not there and realising he must already be moving around camp. The jacket is bundled up over his chest and Micah blushes at realising it smells like Arthur. Sure there’s the faint smell of gunpowder, tobacco and whiskey but underneath all of that is something he can only describe as Arthur.

Micah runs his hands over the blue fabric, smiling to himself as he realises just how much he likes the colour blue on Arthur— something he’d never realised before.

Arthur lets Micah keep the coat for as long as he’d like and although he never wears it around camp he can’t deny that each night he buries his face in it, the smell lulling him to sleep much easier than any bottle of whiskey.

Despite both of their efforts to be nicer to each other, nothing more happens for the next few weeks. They both agreed that they should at least become friends while Micah made up his mind about how to deal with all of this.

Life was pretty much normal, with the two making efforts to go on robberies together as they got to know each other better.

Pretty much everyone was happy to see the two had found their soulmate if not for the very fact that camp was finally peaceful with them no longer arguing.

It wasn’t until they got to Clemens Point did they actually move to something more than just hold hands around camp.

They’d formed a habit of spending the evening together with either a beer or a bottle of whiskey to share while they talked and held hands. Sometimes Micah would fall asleep with his head on Arthur’s shoulder or lap but they never did anything else.

Micah flipped his hand over like he did every time, waiting for Arthur to take his hand although this time he didn’t take it. Panicking, Micah thought he’d done something wrong until he felt Arthur’s hand on his chin.

Arthur’s hand slowly drew him closer until he felt their lips brush lightly and Micah’s eyelids fluttered shut.

“Can I kiss you?”

Micah nodded nervously, sucking in his breath at having never done this. He didn’t know what he was doing as Arthur closed the gap between them.

Arthur could sense his nerves, running a hand through his hair and pulling him closer. Micah was gently pulled by Arthur to sit in his lap as he gripped the man’s shoulders, whimpering slightly at the feel of Arthur’s tongue sliding over his bottom lip.

He parted his mouth, eagerly letting Arthur’s tongue into his mouth as he moaned. Embarrassed by the noise he made, Micah practically squirmed in his lap. Morgan’s hands came to hold over Micah’s waist, squeezing gently over his slight muffin top and love handles.

Micah pulled away as a pitiful sound left him, panting as he blushed and looked away. Arthur only laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as he looked at him with adoration.

“Sorry, got a little carried away there.”

Micah laughed along with him, hiding his head in Arthur’s shoulder as he was overwhelmed with emotions. Arthur ran his hands down his waist, over his ass and rested on the under side of his thighs as he pulled Micah closer to his chest protectively. He nosed at Micah’s stringy hair, kissing his temple as he felt the man relax in his hold.

“Come sleep in the tent with me tonight.”

Arthur felt Micah nod against his neck before standing up and taking his hand to lead him to his tent.

—

Micah first noticed how Arthur had pulled the flaps of his tent down, leaving it secluded from the eyes of the rest of the gang. The gesture somewhat relieved his worries as Arthur lead him to sit down on the cot.

They kicked off their boots, before climbing into the bed in a position similar to before. Micah realised just how much he liked his spot in Arthur’s lap, leaning over Arthur and kissing him again as he sat back on the pillows.

Arthur’s hands came to his waist again, pulling him closer as he felt their clothed erections grind against each other. Micah pulled away from his mouth to moan, tapering it off to become a whimper as he tried to keep quiet. Arthur shushed him, gently rolling them over so Micah was the one under him with his legs wrapped around his waist.

“Shh, just relax and let me take care of you. You’re alright Micah.”

Micah melted into the pillow as Arthur slowly undressed him, moaning softly as each piece of clothing was removed. Arthur kissed down his chest as each button of his red shirt was undone, his tongue flicking over a nipple which left Micah panting and arching his chest into Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur sat up slightly, taking Micah’s hands in his and holding them beside his head as he looked at him.

“You alright there sweetheart?”

Micah practically keened from the nickname, blushing under the man as he nodded. He looked up at Arthur, gasping softly as he saw Arthur under the light of the lantern on the bedside table.

He’d never quite noticed just how blue his eyes were or the slight flush of his sculpted cheeks. His hair was a beautiful golden brown that had a yellow shine to it from the lantern after being freshly washed.

He was broken out of his thoughts when Arthur undid the last of his buttons, exposing his round tummy and leaving Micah feeling more vulnerable than he’d ever felt. Arthur ran a hand over Micah’s tummy, squeezing over his love handles and groaning softly.

“So pretty— my pretty boy.”

Micah sat up, pulling on Arthur’s collar as a warning despite the fact that his face was bright pink.

“Don’t patronise me.”

Arthur leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth, pulling a soft mewl from the other as he nudged him to lie back down on the bed.

“Common now, I said I’d take care of yer didn’t I? Besides from the looks of things I’d say you like it.”

To emphasise his point Arthur’s hand travelled from his stomach down to his crotch, rubbing over his cock over the layer of his jeans. Micah bit his lip to stifle his moan which came out anyway, painfully aware of the gang outside. Arthur played with the zipper of his pants, looking at him for permission to undress him fully.

Once Arthur discarded of the rest of their clothes, he kissed his way down Micah’s tummy until he licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. The sound Micah made was filthy as he sat up on his elbows, panting as he watched Arthur over the curve of his tummy.

His legs fell open even wider as Arthur took all of him down his throat before pulling back to lick over the slit. Above him Micah was an absolute mess, his chest rising and falling as his toes curled and arousal pooled in his abdomen. His hands were bunched into fists as he clawed at the light sheet. Arthur noticed this and gently guided his hands to thread into his hair.

Micah’s back arched and he moaned as Arthur bobbed his head around his throbbing cock. The heat of his mouth had him panting and thrusting up in short, tamed thrusts as Micah felt himself get closer to the edge.

The loud whine that left Micah’s lips would be called pathetic in any other context as Arthur pulled off his cock. Arthur ran his hands up Micah’s thigh, dragging his blunt nails over his soft, smooth skin and smiling at the goosebumps that formed under them.

“So sensitive already…”

Arthur cooed at him as he leaned over the man, picking up his saddle bag and pulling out a tin of lubricant. He bent down, kissing Micah again who mewled at the salty taste on his tongue.

“You want it?”

Micah nodded enthusiastically, arms wrapping around Arthur’s back to draw him closer as he begged.

“Please… want it Arthur please— need it so bad.”

Arthur hummed in approval, coating his fingers before nudging Micah’s legs up.

“That’s my good boy…”

—

Micah was practically sobbing with need by the time he had three of Arthur’s fingers inside him. The burning stretch had long since gone and been replaced with jolts of molten pleasure every time Arthur brushed his prostate.

He’d almost cum just from the man scissoring two fingers in him if it weren’t for Arthur wrapping a hand around the base of his now leaking cock and drawing his fingers out.

“Arthur please, can’t wait any more— I need it now.”

Arthur came up to lean over Micah again, his own member sliding over Micah’s cheeks but not pushing in just yet.

“Need what sweetheart? Go on… beg for it like the good boy you are.”

Micah huffed, whining in annoyance but nonetheless complying with Arthur’s request no matter how humiliating it felt.

“Please fuck me Arthur please!”

Arthur kissed him then, swallowing his moans as he finally pushed past the tight ring of muscle until he slowly bottomed out. Micah was breathing heavily through his nose as he whimpered into Arthur’s mouth.

“Just breathe for me sweetheart… that’s it just relax.”

Micah’s arms wrapped around Arthur’s neck, his blunt nails grounding the two of them on the bed. Arthur pulled back to look at Micah with concern, causing him to panic and the nerves from before to resurface.

“Micah have you ever done this before?”

At Micah’s silence, Arthur gently kissed his cheek as he ran his hands softly up his sides.

“Oh Micah its okay, why didn’t you tell me?”

Hiding his face in Arthur’s neck, Micah wrapped his arms around the man tighter, slightly rocking his hip and moaning.

“Nnngh, didn’t want you to leave… didn’t want you to think I wasn’t a good enough soulmate because I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Arthur smiled softly, his arms coming to hold Micah protectively against him. Micah arched into him, his new slightly elevated angle leaving Arthur’s cock pushing against his prostate constantly.

“You’re good enough for me sweetheart, always will be. We’ll go slow okay? Gonna take care of my good boy.”

Micah sighed, nodding as Arthur pulled almost all the way out only to push back into the hilt. He moaned, withering under him as his body clenched around Arthur, already painfully close to the edge again.

“Ah! Arthur—“

Arthur continued his slowly but deep thrusts, each time dragging out Micah’s pleasure as he abused the bundle of nerves inside of him.

“I’ve got you now sweetheart… wouldn’t ask for any other soulmate, you’re so perfect.”

Micah’s eyes rolled, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy as he felt the beginning of his orgasm.

“Arthur I-i’m so close.”

The man above him was not far behind, leaning down to lick and bite at his earlobe before leaving a mark high on his jawline.

“Go on now, cum for me darlin’— you’re mine.”

Micah’s back arched as he came all over his tummy, white bursts of cum getting caught between the two of them. Arthur’s thrusts picked up slightly as he neared his own orgasm, his hands holding Micah’s soft sides as he strung out Micah’s orgasm and his own. Arthur groaned into his ear as he came down from his high, the two of them panting and sweaty.

Arthur sat up to clean them off, bending down and using his shirt to wipe away their mess while Micah was left a mess on the cot. His hair was tangled and strewn out around the pillow, something Arthur found utterly adorable.

It was much too hot to cuddle in this southern heat but neither of them mattered as Arthur laid back down with Micah on top of him. He cuddled into his chest, yawning softly as Arthur rubbed slow circles along his shoulders.

Miss Grimshaw would certainly give them hell in the morning for making too much noise but for now the two soulmates fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms and while it wasn’t exactly what Micah was expecting, he couldn’t be happier with the outcome.