#//guess who decided to finally return to this blog

[kckt88]

ñuhon naejot gūrogon.

Summary:

In the aftermath of Rooks Rest, a King's life hangs in the balance and Aemond reveals his true intentions.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Langauage, Disagreements, Vulnerability, Confessions, Brother/Sister Incest, Kissing, Smut, Oral Sex (F Recieving), Loss of Virginity, P in V, Breeding Kink.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C SISTER.

A.N - ñuhon naejot gūrogon - Mine to take.

Word Count: 4645

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Daena sat quietly at the bedside of her older brother Aegon. The room was dimly lit by the flickering flames of several candles, casting long shadows on the stone walls.

The scent of burning incense filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and the faint, pungent odour of burnt flesh.

Aegon lay on the grand canopy bed, his body broken and battered from the battle of Rook’s Rest. His once-proud form was now a fragile shell, swathed in bandages and ointments.

Most of the skin on the left side of his body was severely burned, a patchwork of raw, angry red and blistering black. His breaths came shallow and ragged, each exhalation a reminder of his tenuous grip on life.

The maesters had worked tirelessly since his return, their faces etched with exhaustion and worry.

They had done all they could, setting his broken bones and applying salves to his burns, finally dosing him heavily with milk of the poppy to numb the pain.

Now, all they could do was wait and pray.

Daena reached out and gently took her brother’s hand in hers. His skin was clammy and cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the feverish heat radiating from his wounds. She squeezed his hand lightly, her heart aching with a mixture of love and sorrow.

Aegon was far from perfect; he had made many mistakes, and committed many sins, but he was still her brother, and she loved him.

Her violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she watched him, hoping he could sense her presence, feel her unwavering support. The once-vibrant King now lay vulnerable and fragile, and Daena’s heart ached for him.

“I’m here, Aegon. Please, hold on.”

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and Daena glanced up to see her other brother, Aemond, enter the room. His tall figure was framed by the dim light from the corridor, casting a long shadow into the room.

He walked silently to the foot of Aegon’s bed and placed his hands on the wooden frame, his one eye, sharp and calculating, observing the scene before him.

Daena remained seated, her hand still holding Aegon’s, her gaze never leaving their wounded brother. The tension in the room was palpable, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words and long-held grudges.

After a few minutes, Aemond finally broke the silence.

“Someone will have to rule in his stead,” he said, his voice low and measured.

Daena’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Let me guess, that will be you.”

Aemond’s expression remained impassive. “That will be for the council to decide on who will take on the duties of ruling the realm.”

Daena scoffed, her eyes flashing with defiance. “There is no one else but you. Even though Helaena is Queen, we cannot have a woman rule lest we be labelled as hypocrites, as we can’t forget the reason why Aegon was crowned instead of our older sister”

Aemond’s gaze remained steady, but there was a flicker of something—irritation, perhaps—behind his eye. Daena continued; her voice sharp with accusation.

"So, whose idea was it to parade the severed head of Meleys through the streets of King's Landing?"

"It was Ser Criston Cole’s idea," Aemond replied, a note of defensiveness in his tone.

"And you allowed it," Daena said, her eyes blazing with anger. "How could you let the symbol of our house be desecrated in such an appalling manner? Not even Maegor the Cruel would have resorted to such measures."

"It was to show strength" Aemond argued, his voice rising slightly.

Daena laughed bitterly. "-I very much doubt it. The only thing you’ve done is sow the seeds of rebellion amongst the smallfolk- that the power of the dragons isn't infinite"

Aemond's face grew taut, a mixture of frustration and anger. "It was necessary”

"For whom exactly-” Daena countered. "Rooks Rest cannot be counted as a victory. Sunfyre is gravely injured, and Aegon may never recover-how do you know that our sister will not have her dragons descend upon us”

“We have dragons too” replied Aemond.

“As I said, Sunfyre is injured-so he’s out, and I don’t exactly foresee Helaena riding into battle on the back of Dreamfyre-all we have is Vhagar and Silverwing”

“Tessarion?”

“A fledgling dragon with no battle experience and a rider who’s been sheltered at Oldtown for so long that he practically doesn’t exist”

“Daera-” sighed Aemond.

“It’s all worked out rather nicely for you, hasn’t it? Now that Aegon is incapable of ruling, you’re ever closer to getting what you want.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. “What exactly are you implying?”

Daena finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a cold, hard stare. “You know exactly what I’m implying,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

She pressed a kiss to Aegon’s hand, her touch gentle and full of sorrow. Then she rose from her seat, her gown rustling softly in the silence.

As she moved to leave the room, Aemond followed her, his steps echoing hers. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, leaving the room in silence once more, the only sound the faint, laboured breathing of the broken king.

Daena strode into her chambers, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger and sorrow. Aemond followed closely behind, shutting the door with a decisive click and turning the key to lock it.

The sound echoed ominously in the room, filled with the faint scent of lavender and the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the window.

Daena whirled around to face him, her eyes blazing with accusation. “Did you do it?” she demanded, her voice low and fierce. “Were you the one who attacked Aegon?”

Aemond’s face contorted with a mix of hurt and anger. “How could you ask me that?”

Daena’s gaze remained unyielding. “I’m not a fool, Aemond. I know you’ve always believed Aegon was unfit to rule. That he’s a wastrel who’s never taken any interest in his birthright. Meanwhile, you, ever the good soldier, has spent hours training with the sword, studying history and philosophy. Aegon has had everything handed to him while you, the second son, have received nothing.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, his eye flashing with barely contained fury. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be teased for being different? To be a Targaryen without a dragon?”

Daena’s expression softened slightly but remained firm. “I was once without a dragon too and it was only because of Aegon that I managed to claim Silverwing. Do you not remember how furious Mother had been when she found out?”

Daena’s mind going back to that day, oh how wonderful it had been. Aegon had taken her flying on Sunfyre, and they had snuck onto Dragonstone, their older sister left unaware as the two of them entered the dragon mount.

Aegon had been so proud of her when she claimed Silverwing, their mother-not so much. She had slapped Aegon to within an inch of his life, shouting and screaming about how he had been so reckless.

Their father had been indifferent to the whole situation, his wheezing breath may have whispered proud sentiments, but his heart and his mind were never present, not for them anyway. That was exclusively reserved for his precious Rhaenyra.

Aemond’s lips twisted into a mocking smile, and he began to clap slowly, the sound filled with derision. “Well done, sister. You were one of the lucky few to escape Aegon’s teasing japes and drunken slobbering.”

Daena’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer to Aemond, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You think you’re so much better than him, don’t you? You think you deserve the throne more than he does. Tell me dear brother, why do you deserve it?”

Aemond’s face hardened, and for a moment, the room was filled with a tense silence, the air thick with the weight of their unspoken grievances.

Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and measured. “I am what this realm needs, Daena. A ruler who is strong, who is capable. Aegon has shown time and again that he is not fit for the crown.”

Daena shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. “And what makes you think you’re worthy? Because you can swing a sword, recite ancient texts and ride the largest dragon in the world? There’s more to ruling than that, Aemond. There’s compassion, wisdom, and the ability to see beyond one’s own ambition.”

As Aemond turned to leave the room, Daena’s voice cut through the silence, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do you ever feel guilty?”

Aemond froze, his hand still on the door handle. He turned slowly to face her, his expression guarded. “What?”

Daena took a deep breath, her voice trembling with emotion. “For killing Luke. For what happened to Jaehaerys. You were responsible for it. Your actions led to the death of an innocent child. How can you even dare to look Helaena in the face, knowing that it's your fault? That you’re the reason she lost her son, why Aegon lost his son?”

Aemond’s face contorted with rage as Daena’s words hit him like a blow. His fists clenched at his sides, and his eye burned with a fierce intensity.

“Do you know they came here for you that night?” Daena continued, her voice steady despite the tempest brewing in the room. “But they couldn’t find you, so they took Jaehaerys’ life instead.”

Aemond’s expression darkened further, his jaw tightening. “Where were you that night, Aemond?” Daena pressed, her eyes piercing his. “-What were you doing?”

Aemond remained silent, his face a mask of defiance.

Daena’s gaze softened, tinged with sadness. “I know exactly where you were” she admitted quietly.

Aemond’s eye widened in surprise and anger. “If you already knew, then why did you ask?”

“I wanted to see if you would lie,” Daena replied, her voice tinged with regret. “After all it’s not exactly something you’d want everyone to know about, given your open disdain for Aegon’s repeated visits to the whores on the Street of Silk.”

Aemond’s face flushed with fury and humiliation. “Let me guess, Aegon told you, and the two of you had a good laugh at my expense.”

“Aegon did tell me,” Daena said softly, shaking her head. “But I didn’t find it amusing. If anything, I found it quite sad. That you have to resort to such a place to find the comfort and love you’ve been denied-”

Aemond’s anger flared even hotter. “I am not weak!” he spat, his voice trembling with rage.

Daena took a step closer, her eyes filled with empathy. “Seeking comfort doesn’t make you weak, Aemond”.

“Y-You wouldn’t understand-”

Daena took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “Tell me the truth, Aemond. Did you deliberately harm Aegon at Rook’s Rest?”

Aemond’s expression hardened, his eye narrowing. “Aegon shouldn’t have been there in the first fucking place,” he replied, his voice cold and dismissive. “But he interfered and suffered the consequences.”

Daena shook her head in disbelief, her eyes filled with hurt and anger. “You’ve been plotting with Cole behind Aegon’s back and undermining his authority in the council meetings. The only reason you have a place on that council is because Aegon granted it to you, he thought he could trust you and this is how you repay him? By attacking him with Vhagar and grasping for his crown?”

Aemond’s face twisted with a mix of rage and frustration. “Aegon is weak. He’s never been fit to rule. I did what needed to be done.”

“What’s next, Aemond?” Daena demanded, her voice rising. “Are you going to take Helaena as well-”

Aemond's face twisted in rage, and he stepped forward, his voice rising. "No!” His hands clenched into fists, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. "She is not the sister I desire"

Daena's eyes widened, and she took a step back, her heart pounding. "W-What?"

Aemond’s face was a mask of conflicting emotions: anger, longing, and something darker. "You think I plot and scheme only for power? You think I care only for the crown? You're wrong. I want you, Daena. I've always wanted you. And I will take you, just as I have taken everything else that was denied to me."

Daena backed away from Aemond, as she watched him remove the belt that held his weapons in place, the loud clang of metal upon stone as it slid from his hands and hit the floor made her jump.

His fingers quickly occupying themselves with removing the bandolier strap before moving onto his green leather riding jacket.

"This isn’t you. The brother I knew would never hurt our family like this. Please, Aemond, let it go”

Aemond's expression was a tumult of emotions—anger, longing, and something darker. He moved closer to her, his presence overwhelming, and reached out to gently place his hand on the back of her neck. He pressed their foreheads together, his breath warm against her skin.

"Kostilus lēkia," Daena whispered, her voice trembling. (Please, brother)

Aemond smiled, a chilling blend of affection and possession in his gaze. "Ao issi ñuhon, se nyke jāhor emagon ao," he murmured. (You are mine, and I will have you).

Daena shook her head, her heart pounding as she tried to back away from Aemond. But he wouldn’t let her, his voice dropping to a whisper, his words caressing her ear.

"I may have one eye, but I'm not blind. I see the way you look at me. I know you desire me the same way I desire you." He leaned even closer, his breath warm against her skin.

"Aemond-"

"Tepagon isse dōna mandia, se nyke jāhor gūrogon ao hae issa ābrazȳrys, se mazverdagon ao issa dāria” (Give in, sweet sister, and I will take you as my wife, and make you my Queen).

Daena's heart ached with a confusing mix of emotions. "It's wrong, Aemond," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Aemond's smirk was both confident and predatory. "How can it be wrong when it feels so right?"

Daena's mind raced, searching for something to anchor herself. "What about your promise to marry Floris Baratheon?"

Aemond's smirk widened into a grin, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eye. "A boar is no match for a dragon."

Before she could respond, he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss searing and insistent.

Daena pulled away, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and desire. But the intensity of his kiss, the depth of his longing, was too much to resist.

With a soft moan, she gave in, winding her arms around his neck and kissing him back passionately.

Aemond’s hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, his kisses growing more fervent.

Aemond's kisses grew more insistent, his hands roaming over Daena's back as he slowly backed them towards the bed. Their lips never parted; each kiss more fervent than the last. Daena's breath hitched as she felt his long fingers deftly begin to untie the laces of her dress.

As the laces came undone, Aemond's hands brushed against her bare skin. Daena shivered at his touch, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

When the back of her legs touched the edge of the bed, Aemond paused for a moment, pulling back to look into her eyes.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Daena’s answer was in her eyes, in the way she pulled him closer, her fingers threading through his hair. "Yes," she breathed.

Aemond smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usual intensity. He leaned down, capturing her lips once more as he guided her onto the bed. His hands moved with purpose, sliding the dress from her shoulders and down her body, exposing her skin to the cool air and his burning touch.

Daena’s hands found their way to Aemond’s own clothing, eager to remove the barriers between them.

Once she had removed the out layers of his clothing, her fingers explored the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. Aemond groaned softly at her touch, his lips trailing down her neck as he pressed her back against the soft sheets.

Aemond positioned himself above her, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

Daena’s breath caught in her throat as she gently cupped his face with her hands. Her fingers brushed against the rough texture of his scar, a reminder of the pain and loss he had endured.

Slowly, she slipped off his eyepatch, revealing the sapphire he had placed where his eye once was.

With tenderness, Daena leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his scarred cheek. Her lips lingered there, as if trying to heal the wounds that had marred his flesh and his soul. She felt Aemond’s sharp intake of breath, a moment of pure vulnerability passing between them.

Her fingers moved to the tie that bound his long, silver hair. With a gentle tug, she undid it, and his hair cascaded down, framing his chiselled face. Daena smiled as she ran her fingers through the silken strands, marvelling at his beauty.

“So beautiful,” whispered Daera, her voice filled with affection.

Aemond’s gaze softened, the fierce intensity giving way to something more tender, more real. He lowered himself closer to her, their faces mere inches apart. His hand came up to rest against her cheek, his thumb brushing gently across her skin.

“Daena,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"Aemond," she began softly, her voice trembling, "Will I be enough for you? I cannot love you if you seek out others."

Aemond's expression softened, and he stroked her cheek "My visits to Sylvi are over. I won't go back there anymore. I promise-"

Daena smiled and silenced him with a gentle kiss. Aemond responded with a fervour that matched her own, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.

“My love-my sweetest-” whispered Aemond as he pulled away and descended down her body, kissing and nipping at her skin as he went.

“W-What are you doing?”

“I want to kiss you-here” replied Aemond as he pressed forward and ran his tongue over her warm wet folds.

She bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to slowly tease her entrance.

“None of that. I want to hear how good I make you feel” growled Aemond as he began moving his tongue against her, in rhythm with his fingers.

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Daena, as she writhed against the sheets.

“That’s it-such a good girl for me” growled Aemond.

“OH-” whimpered Daena, as Aemond continued to move his tongue and fingers over her centre.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen. Come for me” whispered Aemond, his tongue moving across her pearl.

Daena arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond slowly crawled up her body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Daena blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself issa zaldrīzes” muttered Aemond, as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth, sucking off her slick. (My dragon).

Goosebumps erupted over Daena’s skin as Aemond removed his hand from his mouth and then took hold of her breast, his fingers gently teasing her rosy bud.

“W-What are you doing?” asked Daena as Aemond’s hand slid down her body and began teasing her folds.

“I-I need to prepare you a little more” whispered Aemond.

“P-prepare me?” whispered Daena.

“You are a maiden-I don’t want to hurt you” replied Aemond.

“Aemond” exclaimed Daena as he slowly slipped a finger inside her, the slick from her first peak easing the way.

Aemond buried his face in Daena’s neck as he began peppering kisses along her smooth skin as he added another finger, moving them in and out slowly.

“So warm-so wet for me” rasped Aemond, his hot breath tickling her skin.

“I-I think I’m ready” whispered Daena.

Aemond removed his fingers and then moved between her open legs, supporting his weight on his left arm as he reached down and took his hard cock in his hand and placed the tip of it against her slick entrance.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yes-” replied Daena as she felt him running his cock along her entrance.

“Y-You must tell me if it hurts” whispered Aemond.

Daena nodded and shut her eyes tight, taking a deep breath as Aemond sheathed himself within her.

“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.

“I-It h-hurts-“ whimpered Daena, the burning sensation bringing tears to her eyes.

“If it’s too much I can pull out-” offered Aemond.

“N-No just give me a moment” replied Daena softly as the tears ran down her cheeks.

Aemond leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to her cheeks, his tongue catching her fallen tears.

Aemond’s cock twitched and throbbed with need, and he released a shuddered breath while Daena sighed in relief. 

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I-I think you can move now” whispered Daena her hands running along the smooth plans of Aemond’s back.

Slowly Aemond withdrew and then moved forward, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“Are you ok?” repeated Aemond as he thrust inside her.

“Y-yes-I think you can move faster”.

Aemond rested his head in the crook of her neck as he thrusts faster, his moans muffled against her skin.

“Ooh Aemond-that feels good” whined Daena.

“Your perfect-” whispered Aemond.

Feeling a spark of pleasure Daena dug her fingers into Aemonds back, holding him close.

“P-please Aemond. F-faster. H-harder” exclaimed Daena.

“Daera-” moaned Aemond as he began to pound into her, his hips slapping against hers.

“-I-I f-feel-” whimpered Daena, an odd sensation creeping across her stomach.

“-Let it happen-my sweetest, peak for me” exclaimed Aemond.

“DON’T STOP-PLEASE”

“Fuck-that’s it-that’s it” muttered Aemond as he slipped his hand between their bodies and slowly began rubbing her pearl.

“AEMOND” screamed Daena as her peak exploded, making her entire body shake.

Aemond stopped, and rested for a moment as he allowed Daena’s peak to subside, his teeth grazing her shoulder.

“Did you enjoy that?” asked Aemond his voice quiet and raspy.

“Yes” replied Daena, fidgeting as she felt his hard length twitching inside her.

“Good-” said Aemond as he withdrew and quickly manoeuvred Daena onto all fours.

“What are you doing?”

“Now-I’m going to fuck you until you scream” said Aemond, delighting in the way Daena began nodding and whimpering as she pushed herself backwards against him.

“P-Please-Lēkia” whispered Daera (Brother).

“FUCK” groaned Aemond as he took his cock in hand and began rubbing it along Daena’s wet folds.

“Please. I want it-I want you, please don’t make me wait anymore” begged Daena.

“Fuck, that’s it” moaned Aemond his hard length filling her cunny in one smooth stroke.

“God. Yes. Aemond” sighed Daena.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

Aemond marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his sister was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.

He was her first and he would be her only. There would be no others.

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, plunging his cock into her cunny over and over, thrilling to hear Daena’s moans of need echoing around the room.

Bracing her arms, she pushed against him so he could shove his cock in. Harder and faster, his fingers digging into her hips.

Aemond felt his stones draw in; his peak was fast approaching. Gods he wanted to keep going, the feeling of her tight wet heat wrapped around him was just otherworldly.

But he supposed he could always take her again; he knew it wouldn’t take long after he spilled his seed for him to be ready once more.

He planned to take her many times, he needed to ensure that his seed had a chance to take root.

He couldn’t wait to see her all round and swollen with his child, for everyone to know that it was his son that she carried inside of her.

Part of him and her together-nourished by her mother’s body, her milk swollen breasts-fuck he could feel it building, he was going to spill, he was going to fill her up.

But he didn’t want to, not like this, he wanted to see her face.

Aemond quickly withdrew, ignoring Daena’s whimper of protest as he rolled her onto her back and sheathed himself inside her again.

She wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, drawing him closer as he began to thrust inside her, his cock reaching deep inside.

“I-I’m going to give you my seed-see you all round and swollen with my child- moaned Aemond.

“Yes-yes. Aemond. I want it-” babbled Daena as his thrusts became more frantic.

“Fuck-” groaned Aemond as he felt the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“-Aemond” whimpered Daena.

“ñuhon, ry ñuhon” moaned Aemond pushed into the hilt for one last time, his cock throbbing as he spilled rope after rope of his seed (Mine, all mine).

“Ry aōhon” whispered Daena, as Aemond rested on top of her (All yours).

“A-Are you ok?”  Aemond as he gently pulled his softened cock from Daena, he looked down and saw the mixture of his seed and her maidens blood dripping onto the sheet.

Daena nodded slowly, as she allowed him to enfold her in his arms and hold her close.

As they lay together in the dim light of Daena's chambers, their bodies entwined and their hearts beating in sync, a sense of peace settled over them. Daena's head rested on Aemond's chest, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his skin. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken promises of their newfound bond.

After a while, Daena broke the silence, her voice a soft whisper. "What will we do now, Aemond?"

Aemond's arm tightened around her, his gaze thoughtful as he stared at the ceiling. "First, I will wait for the council to name me regent. Once I have their backing, I will declare my intentions to marry you"

Daena lifted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and concern. "And what about the war?”

Aemond's expression hardened, a determined fire lighting up his eye. "I will make plans with Cole. We will see an end to this war and to Rhaenyra and her brood of bastards”

"What about Aegon? If he recovers, he will no doubt resume his place upon the Iron Throne."

Aemond's face darkened for a moment, but then a small, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Yes—if," he replied, the word hanging heavily in the air.

Daena's heart clenched, and she bit her lip in an attempt to stifle a sob. The reality of what she done crashed over her like a wave.

She had given into Aemond, and by doing that, she had set herself against Aegon.

Aemond noticed her distress and gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Don’t worry my love, all will be well in the end-you’ll see”

Daena smiled slightly, but deep down inside, a part of her realised that she had just made a terrible mistake.

The monster had been unleashed and she had no idea how to stop it.

[junipers-archive]

i just read your recent Spencer Reid fic and ugh, I’m absolutely in love with your writing, do you think you could write something about him having a crush on the pilot who flies the BAU jet?

OMG sorry this is so late and it took me so long to get to this request but i hope i did it justice!! {this needs to become a consistent au on my blog!}

word count: 500

"Sorry for the delay! The maintenance engineers are just making sure the plane will be completely compliant with the controls." You're smiling brightly as you enter the cabin of the plane where sits the team you've just recently started flying for.

"I-Its really no problem! If you'd like I could help- I-I have a phd in engineering and I could-" Spencer, who you've only known for about two months now stops abruptly. Much to your dismay because the way the ends of his eyes crinkled and grin spread had butterflies swarming in your stomach.

Looking around you see why, Morgan is just barley containing his smile behind his fist, whilst Hotch has seen to busying himself with the files.

"Uh-Actually sure that would be great Dr.Reid!" You're trying to break the awkwardness but the way he gets up and trips over part of the carpet has you struggling to contain a giggle.

And he is just... starstruck everytime he see's you. Always so taken by how beautiful you look, especially in your pilots uniform.

Once you're outside once more you take the alone time as a chance to finally get to know the young doctor.

"So-uh with all the phds, I'd guess you were a professor of some kind?"

"Uh-yea-yea-well not really" he was trying his best to keep his cool but the flush that continued to return to his cheeks eveytime he was in your presence seemed persistent.

"I-I was scouted after completing my last one by the BAU and put to work with several other high functioning fbi workers-of course I skipped the well to do training in combat because-"

He stopped abruptly, which made you immediately frown. "What's wrong?"

He glances at you surprised, "Sorry, its just I tend to ramble-and it makes people uncomftorable and- and- I'm doing again aren't I?"

You stop and turn to him in a very serious manner that has him standing straighter, "You are not a burden. Do not apologize for having a brain that functions twice as fast as others. Ever."

And if he wasn't in love with you before, he definitely is now. But before he gets to quite literally confess said love or at least ask you on a date the maintenance engineers are hollering for your attention.

With a quick smile you turn to leave, but before you turn completely you see the unsettled dissapointment you're about to leave the young doctor with and decide to be a little more forward that you usually are. Stepping towards his quite fast, you give him a peck on the cheek and walk off with a grin spread wide across your face.

And Spencer, well he doesn't care that Morgan and Rossi just saw the interaction, or that he'll be teased for possibly the next years to come for the dumbfounded expression across his face at the moment because you kissed him. On the cheek maybe. But still. It counts, right?

[night-raven-miscellany]

For the second afternoon in a row that week, Mace found himself walking down the same corridor of the Diasomnia dorms. He would have come by sooner, having finished downloading all of the stuff onto the drive way earlier, but he got a bit distracted doing... a few different things. He hoped Casimir didn't mind the wait too much. It would be a shame if he did.

Approaching Casimir's door, he knocked the same way he did last time, before stepping back.

"Yello~! Guess who it is~!"

He called out, combing his fingers through his hair to neaten it up a bit while he waited for the door to open. Not that he was trying to make it look extra neat. But more... trying to make it seem like he didn't just crawl out of bed a few hours ago, just to only make it in time to attend the last class of the day. Because he definitely didn't. Definitely.

- Mace (🔌) [ @nrc-asteryn-crew ]

( ooc// i cannot the way he starts monologuing in his thoughts then gets more sentimental STOPP I CANT DO THIS I LOVE HIM SM ACTUALLY if he was in game i WOULD whale /pos silly guy if anything ur inability to control ur UM is just making mace more interested in you (i actually love that it does that tho its so silly) anyway I FINALLY MADE THE GOSH DARN BLOG . well sorta i more so just had to revamp the pinned post that was already there but YEA!!! :D )

*the knocking on the door startled Casimir from his thoughts that, today, mainly consisted of some nonsense on a homework page. He relaxed though, at the recognition of the knocking pattern and voice and stood up*

*He took a deep breath to compose himself and adopt his typical, grandiose persona before opening the door*

Greetings to you, Vassal Mace! It is a pleasure to see that you have decided to return to my lair on this day.

I assume that your being here means you have successfully completed your quest?

*Casimir did his best to contain his excitement, tapping his fingers together in what, to most appearances, could be read as excitement or a gesture of evil plotting - the perfect gesture for one of his status, now that he thought about it.*

(✨HELL YEAH! banger that u have a blog now! I think I'm already following ur acct from my main but yaur!!! Also thank u SM that means. A lot actually bc I'm just here like "yeah this silly guy who exists in my brain is gonna get thrown from a window" and I really appreciate when other ppl like my silly guys dhhdsjdj. I'm so excited to be able to learn more Abt ur guys now tho too whehehehe >:3¢. Probably should've done this from the tags. Anyways.)

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 20: All The Little Things 

Summary: Arthur takes note of all the little things you do for him and tries to decide if he’s ready to take your relationship to the next level. 

Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW - This one is a bit longer than I planned, sorry!

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*This beautiful images comes from the always stunning @foundynnel

*Beta-read by the wonderfully supportive @readingcoco (Thank you for herding in my thoughts, my friend!)

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4​ @bimbo-dollz​ @pine4pple-b0i​ @redwritr​ @kuri-chans-blog​ @queer-sadie-adler​ @joelmillerswifey​ @gimmethosedaddymilkers​ @pcotarelo​ @delilah-grimes​ @maemortem​ @wistfulwisteriawitch​ @lilacxxdreams​ @mentallyillfrogs​ @absolutegeek​ @spurz​ @sophiaj650​ @uniqueclodzinevoid​ @lookingformaurice​ @pawoui​ @randomidk-123​ @yyiikes​ @eddiemetalheadmunson​ @twola​ @kmartkiddieisle​ @red-dead-simp @regwishesshehadmagic​  @rhehr241​  @earwen-x​ @akariver75​ @djennty​ @nervousmumbling​ @xliliths​ @unbotheredbeeeee​ @onnetonprinsessa​ @kittiowolf210​ @ezrynn​ @suhiss @arthurmargon​​ @codnerd1999 @queer-sadie-adler​​ @alice-vanderlinde​​ @sweetandstoned21​​ @j4llyf7sh @spooky631​​ @m0r4rx @ilovrxats​​ @i-69-urmom​​ @ddbluesie @ivuravix @nervousmumbling @sickvictorianangel @tirededuxhours @ezzythereal1 @chloepluto1306 @ivys-valentine @spiritcatcherxo @lea-khena @brccklynbaby1 @foundynnel @readingcoco @carmelamontezlikr @ultraporcelainpig @sofiaa-xcx

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

It’s been a few weeks since you and Arthur proclaimed your affections for each other and you have quickly settled into a comfortable routine. With Arthur being a senior member of the gang, and with you as his woman, you feel that you need to step up and contribute more to the Van Der Linde Gang. And Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw couldn’t be more thrilled. 

The gang must always come first - that is what Arthur has instilled in you and it’s what you have come to adopt as your own adage too. You feel that same sense of belonging and responsibility for these people and finally begin to truly understand Arthur’s unrelenting loyalty to them. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and as long as the gang does well, the people within it will prosper. 

You are quickly becoming more embedded into this rag-tag group than you had ever thought you would. It’s not just a group of random individuals or a place for you to hide for safety, they are your family now, just as they are Arthur’s. These are the people who comfort you when you need it, and protect you as one of their own. They laugh with you; they yell and stomp angrily with you. You affectionately think of them and pick-up little gifts that will make their day, and you are rewarded with their love and appreciation in return. This is what Arthur is devoutly devoted to, this sense of belonging. For this is much more than a gang of lawbreakers. These people chose each other, which is a bond tighter than most blood relatives. 

The sun is just climbing into its zenith in the autumn sky, desperately trying to break its radiant beams through the gray, overcast clouds to shine down upon the earth below. You and Tilly rumble into camp on a wagon, having just come back from town with a load full of supplies. Mr. Pearson greets you as the old wooden vehicle creaks to a halt. He waddles over and peers his chubby face over the side. The cook is thrilled, seeing an extra crate of potatoes, two more tins of lard and a sack of grain more than he expected you to return with. 

“I guess battin’ those eyelashes of yours at the store owner goes a lot further than I thought,” the portly man teases you as he grabs some of the items from the back of the wagon. 

You beam back at him with a smile of pride as you hike up your skirt into your hand and climb down from the wagon seat. “What is it they say? ‘Catch more flies with honey than vinegar?’”, you hum.

“Well, don’t be surprised if I start sending you out more often, then. We’ll probably get further along with your pretty face than mine.” Pearson’s round figure vibrates slightly with the laughter of his own joke.

“Just let me know what you need, I’ll be happy to help.” Suddenly you halt dead in your tracks, realizing that you’ve just repeated one of Arthur’s sayings. Tilly is right:  you and Arthur are already starting to act like an old married couple. The phrase causes you to shake your head before moving back to the wagon to grab more of the items to unpack.

You pick up one of the smaller boxes and turn to head over to the tables where the men lazily sit about, discussing random topics and enjoying a brief moment of peace and quiet. Arthur and Hosea sit, each relaxing with a cigarette in hand, listening to Dutch carry on about something that he's read recently. He’s been obsessed with “An American Eden” by Evelyn Miller lately and takes it upon himself to “preach its teachings”, as it were, to whomever is within the sound of his voice to hear it. The small group of men currently around him are not what you’d call “high-brow” and his philosophy lessons tends to fall on deaf ears sometimes. 

“Hello, boys!” you sing as you saunter over, being met with a collection of head-nods and grins of acknowledgement.

As you grab their attention, you proceed to hand-out a few thoughtful extras that you pilfered in town. You toss a package of new guitar strings to Javier who snatches them out of the air with one of his nimble hands. 

“Gracias, mi amor!” he beams happily as he examines the small bundle in his hands. “Where did you come across these?”

“Don’t you worry about it. I have my ways,” you smirk with an accompanying wink.

You reach over to hand a new book to Hosea with a smile, and offer a premium cigar to Dutch, who gratefully accepts your gift with appreciative eyes. Placing the empty box on the table, you look over at Arthur. “Oh, and by the way, Arthur, I think I saw that jack-rabbit you’re chasing in town today.”

Arthur’s head perks up right away. “The Petersen bounty?”

“Yeah. He was over by the brothel. By the looks of it, he’ll be holed up there for a while,” you say nonchalantly as you pull an apple out of your skirt pocket and rub its red skin against your sleeve before biting into the crisp, juicy fruit. 

“Well shit, why are you just telling me this now?” Arthur huffs impatiently as he quickly gets up and starts moving towards the horses.

“Like I said, he’s in no hurry.” You shrug. “Do I get a finder’s fee for my part?” you call after him with a grin as you watch him pull Buck from the hitching posts. 

Arthur just waves you off as he slides his dusty boot into the stirrup and hastily slings up into Buck’s saddle, taking off for town. 

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

The flames of the evening’s campfire pop and crackle softly as they roll and crawl over the slightly damp wood. The aroma of heady oak permeates the air and the smoky plumes rise and dance up towards the night sky. You and Arthur sit alone on the ground by the fire, leaning back against a log with a blanket wrapped over your legs. The night is quiet as the stars sparkle overhead. Most people are playing cards at one of the tables, or have drifted off to their tents for the evening. 

The fire offers its warmth and golden glow, creating a soft ambiance. Arthur pulls you in for a gentle, absentminded kiss, and you find yourselves wholly content with each other, forgetting that the rest of the world exists as lovers often do. Your lips run languidly, with no urgency or demand as if working of their own accord. You start to gently rake your fingers across Arthur’s chest, slowly flexing to curl around the worn fabric of his faded brown shirt and occasionally reaching up to caress along his neck and chin. The feeling of his skin radiates through your fingertips and down into the palm of your soft hand. Eyes rolling shut, you smile into his mouth in blissful happiness as his arms lovingly and protectively envelop you. 

Arthur’s strong hand sits on your hip, lightly grasping at the supple flesh hidden under the fabric of your skirt. He loves the feeling of your skin on his, it doesn’t matter what the scenario is. Whether it’s his fingers grazing yours when he hands you a cup of fresh-brewed coffee, or when his hips are pounding into yours in the throws of passion, or even just as it is now when the softest of kisses land upon his chapped lips: the feeling of you against him is like electricity pulsing throughout his entire body, bringing him to life, just like that weird story by Mary Shelley that you read to him.  

It’s a rare thing for the two of you to be left alone in camp like this. Usually you have to hide away if you want any sort of privacy. But truth be told, the rest of the gang is respectfully giving the two of you some space. It’s nice not having a bitter and angry Arthur around all of the time. Ever since you publicly claimed him in the middle of camp as yours, he hasn’t been as snarky or barking at people like he usually does. And of course, people will do anything for you. The demands of daytime chores and responsibilities are one thing, but the calm evenings are left for you two. Sure, not every night is as peaceful as this, so you revel in the rare moment of solitude when the two of you can get it. 

Arthur’s lips eventually part from yours to leave a trail of delicate kisses under your jaw and down your neck, hitting that favorite spot of his. The place behind your ear is where the softest skin he has found on your body is hidden. That spot always tastes so heavenly to him and draws that little breathless noise from you that drives him wild. 

Arthur’s nose buries into your hair, picking up the floral notes of the soap you use to wash it with. You giggle and nuzzle him as your hands come up to cradle his head, your fingers entwined into the locks of his hair, hugging him to you as your nose wrinkles in merriment when his beard stubble delightfully tickles your sensitive skin. 

And suddenly, as you roll your body closer into his, before you can even think twice about it, the words just float from your lips like a dandelion seed being carried on a summer breeze. 

“I love you, Arthur.” Your voice is a breathless sigh of utter contentment, a melody singing through the air.

You haven’t seen his face yet, but feel his movements halt as his whole body goes rigid against you. Arthur slowly pulls his face from your neck and looks at you, speechless, with shocked and confused eyes, face flushed a shade of scarlet to rival the fire in front of you.

But you quickly place your fingers over his lips as if to hush any sort of protest he may have. “Now before you go crazy, Arthur, you don’t have to say it back. I simply said it because I wanted to, because it felt right just now.” You give him a soft and reassuring smile, amused by his reaction as he continues to stare at you, blinking quietly. You can tell he wants to say something in return, but can’t find the words as his mouth begins to work, but no sound comes out. 

“It’s okay, Arthur,” you giggle. “Really. I didn’t tell you that to hear it back. I just wanted to make sure you know it. And you can say it if, and when, you’re ready.”

You pause to give him a moment to answer, to make sure he understands that you have no demand of him, but you can see that he is still troubled and finding it hard to articulate what he needs to say. You honestly do not need him to say it back to you. How he treats you is how he feels about you, regardless of words stated or not. Words are used to manipulate people. His actions show you everything you need to know. So thankfully, you put him out of his misery by leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth as he continues to look at you dumbstruck.

“Don’t get too worked up over it, Arthur.” You pat his cheek affectionately as a look of empathy sits upon your face. “I don’t need you having a heart attack over it. Like I said, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know where my heart lies.” 

Arthur’s forehead creases as he watches you stand up, brushing the dried leaves out of your skirt before reaching down for your blanket. You bend over to catch his scarred chin in your fingertips. “Goodnight, Arthur,” you whisper and kiss him again. You give him an impish little grin before heading over to your tent for the night. 

You leave Arthur still sitting speechless on the ground, a troubled look settled upon his handsome face as he watches your lovely form fade into the darkness of night before disappearing from view altogether as you close your tent. 

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

In the days that follow, Dutch announces that he is going to move the camp again. You are all sitting around the fire when he proceeds with an impassioned speech about moving south just outside of a town called Blackwater. 

You watch Dutch as he presents himself to the group, noting how he carries himself in front of others. He is charismatic and passionate, a natural-born leader. Since you have known the dark-haired devil, he has always had a dramatic and commanding presence, drawing his people to him with his idealism and wit. 

You find it amusing how Dutch’s boldness and optimism is a perfect compliment to Hosea’s skeptical wisdom. The two of them together make quite the dynamic duo, two sides of the same coin. Sometimes you wonder at the true nature of their relationship. Are they “brothers”, just as Arthur and John are, or is there more there, smoldering under the surface like hot coals left after a raging fire has burned down? Both men had their lady-loves in their lives, and both were left devastated when these sparks of light were extinguished in their otherwise dark lives. But you can’t help but wonder if there was ever more to Dutch and Hosea’s relationship than meets the eye. The “curious couple and their unruly sons.” The very idea of it makes you regard them with a softer spot in your heart.

The gang is preparing to go to work and the new location has some hot tips emanating from it. The camp is abuzz with packing and planning with everyone sprinting about and working on their assigned tasks. Arthur and Hosea are discussing a real estate tip around West Elizabeth, while Micah and Dutch have their own plan…something about a ferry boat. 

Arthur and Hosea wander to sit at one of the campfires, away from distractions, and are busy discussing their tip and planning for the new move when Hosea casually asks Arthur about you.

“So…how’s things going with (Y/N)?” He gives Arthur a sly smile with that twinkle in his eye. Hosea has been silently observing the budding courtship from the beginning, carefully watching for any signs of discord that would need to be nipped in the bud before trouble brews. 

A slight pink dusts Arthur’s face at the older man’s inquiry, visible even under his week-old beard. A sheepish little grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he purses his lips in thought. 

“Have you ever wanted to listen to every word someone says, even about the smallest thing in the world just so you can see their face light up and hear their voice?” 

Hosea gives a light-hearted chuckle as he brings his cigarette to his wrinkled lips. “Yeah, that girl broke down those walls of yours without you even noticing she was doin’ it, didn’t she?”

But the smile slowly drips from Arthur’s face as a dark cloud settles over his features. A deep and sad sigh pushes its way from his broad chest under his worn beige jacket. His eyes relax their focus and stray to look out over the camp as he absentmindedly chews on his bottom lip. Hosea notices the change in mood and immediately fears the worst. 

“Ah, shit, what did you do?” accuses the old man in disappointment.

“Nothing!” Arthur counters defensively as his face snaps back to Hosea’s attention. But he is met with the clever fox’s skeptical scowl. Arthur hesitates to share what’s on his mind, afraid that once he verbalizes the phrase again, it will become all too real. 

“She…she told me that she loves me,” Arthur admits quietly, before letting his gaze float to the worn leather of his boots, his toe poking at the grass.

Like a switch has been pulled, Hosea’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Well, that’s great news, my boy!” He claps Arthur on the shoulder in congratulations. “Although I could’ve told you that after the first week she was here with us.” But when Arthur doesn't return his friend’s enthusiasm, Hosea’s smile quickly turns down again in confusion, eying him up cautiously. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“What, are you tellin’ me that you don’t love her?” Hosea asks incredulously, his face drawing up in disbelief. 

“No, I wasn’t sayin’ that at all,” pouts Arthur. “‘Cause I do,” he says with a slight, yet definitive nod. The man fidgets slightly, his hands suddenly sweaty and shaky as he finally admits outloud what he’s known internally for awhile. A short, yet sharp exhale escapes him, as the statement is now out there, exposing his fragile heart for the first time in a long while. 

“Well, then I fail to see the problem,” presses Hosea with a flippant wave of his hand in exasperation.

Arthur fidgets with the cigarette in his fingers, slowly rolling it between his thumb and index finger. “What if she realizes that she doesn’t? Love me, I mean?” He catches Hosea’s eye. “What if she wakes up one mornin’ and decides she don’t want me no more?” He turns his gaze outward, focusing on nothing again. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Arthur cringes when he hears his own voice whining about being loved, bitching about the same thing he said to Marston a few weeks ago. Yes, it’s sooo horrible to have a wonderful woman love me. He thinks sarcastically. God, I’m pathetic.

“I suppose I see your point.” Hosea nods his head in understanding, as Arthur’s worry becomes all too clear. “So what if she does one day? Hmm?” The old man waves his hand dismissively in the air. “But, what if it turns out that (Y/N) wants to be with you forever?” Hosea squints at Arthur. “Don't you think she’s worth the gamble?”

Arthur turns his pained eyes back to his old friend. “I can’t go through that again, Hosea. I just…I can’t do it.” He leans out on his elbows onto his thighs, head swimming with ever-present self-doubt, coupled with the desperate yearning for the love and acceptance he’s craved since he was a child. 

“Arthur, if (Y/N) tells you she loves you, you better believe her.” Hosea points his weathered, crooked finger at Arthur, poking him in the chest. “Don’t be afraid to start over. You may like your new story better this time around. (Y/N) ain’t like that other one,” he grumbles, his jaw clenching slightly without even needing to mention Mary by name. 

“No, I suppose you’re right. She surely ain’t.” Arthur sits quietly for a moment, mulling over Hosea’s words. Hosea always has a way of getting him to see reason, always had since Arthur was a kid. Hosea could quiet his mind with just the simplest words. Arthur takes another deep drag of his cigarette before that roguish little grin pops up again. “You know…if I somehow manage not to screw this up, Hosea…I’m gonna marry her.”

The admission makes the old man’s heart almost burst with happiness as he huffs out a laugh and pats Arthur’s shoulder again in approval. “God willing, I’ll live long enough to see that.”

The two men share a soft chuckle between them. They have been through so much together to get to this point in their lives and the idea of hope and love in the future gives them a feeling of contentment that is rare for their kind of life.

Arthur wants you, of that, there is no doubt. After Mary and Eliza, ‘love’ was just a word to Arthur, some meaningless string of letters that he’d hear from Mary-Beth as she read her silly stories. Four little characters that created an empty and almost cold feeling for him. L.O.V.E

But now, the word has taken a whole new form in you. You are his definition of desire. Arthur never knew how engulfing the flames of love could be until now, until you uttered those three simple little words to him. You are the only thing that could have brought him back to life with your hands, your lips, your soul. Arthur would journey to the ends of the earth to keep you in his life. He misses you from the moment you separate. All he knows is that nothing else makes as much sense to him as loving you. This is what it feels like to fall and not know, or care, where you land. 

You have no idea the depth of how you affect Arthur, how you calm the chaos in his head and still the tornado of thoughts that threaten his sanity. When he holds you in his arms, you become the eye of his storm, the center that is safe while the gale rages wildly around him. 

When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to each other. The very presence that is felt through a hand held close, a voice heard drifting into one’s ear, or even that slightest smile that you know is only for you. Souls do not have clocks or calendars; they do not function with the idea of time or distance. Devoted souls only know it feels right once they have found each other. Like a magnet to steel, beloved hearts will always be drawn to each other with that force of nature that is undeniable. 

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

“Uh oh”, whispers Abigail. Her brunette head pops up as she watches with trepidation from where you both pack supplies into one of the wagons. 

You lift your head to follow her sightline and see Micah and Arthur arguing again. The two of them have been at it for the last few days as the plans to move out of the area are beginning to be set into motion. You wonder how Dutch could put his trust in two men who are so drastically different. It follows suit that Micah will run his mouth with Arthur getting a few verbal, sarcastic jabs in here and there. But it usually ends with Arthur simply towering over the much smaller man until he shrinks down into submission in fear of an iron fist landing into that filthy mouth of his. 

This latest fight seems to be in regards to the competing jobs which have been planned for once you all move down towards Blackwater. Arthur wants nothing to do with this ferry job that Micah is pushing, citing it to be reckless and overreaching. The gang has been in the law’s cross-hairs for some time now and he and Hosea both think sticking to smaller, more reliable jobs is best right now. But Micah has been pitching a more grandiose scheme, arguing that the gang needs to strike bold and quick, garnering as much money as you can so you can start to move away from the civilization that is slowly strangling the gang. Unfortunately for Arthur, Micah seems to be like an earworm, burrowing into Dutch’s brain and playing on his already inflated ego.

You and Abigail observe with baited breath to see how far this current argument will go. But it appears Micah is not backing down this time, continuing to push Arthur to the limits of his patience. Suddenly, in a bold move of newfound courage, Micah steps up right in Arthur’s face, almost nose to nose. The cool autumn air is sucked sharply into your lungs as you gasp and your whole body freezes in apprehension, adrenaline like a knife suddenly thrown into your belly. 

“(Y/N)…” Abigail warns, placing her hand on your forearm. But you are already ahead of her, quick to stride over to the feuding men. As you get closer, a small group begins to gather as the yelling continues to escalate. 

“I’d take a step back and reconsider myself if I were you, Micah,” John smirks with a half-hearted warning from where he sits off to the side, sharpening his knife. John knows full-well that it is only a matter of time before this gets physical, as Arthur has little patience. He has seen Arthur pummel men into a pulp for less offensive actions. But truth be told, John would love to see Micah get his ass beat by Arthur. Hell, he’d even consider paying for it. 

Arthur isn’t saying much but you can tell by the heaving of his chest and the scowl etched into his face that he’s a bomb seconds away from exploding. His broad shoulders set hard as stone as Arthur stands even straighter, towering over Micah. His large hands slowly curl into themselves, fists clenched tight like boulders at the end of his pulsing forearms.

Carefully, you approach the two men from the side, watching them closely and trying to gauge how much time you have before Arthur’s fuse burns to the end of the powder-keg. The tension in the air builds uncomfortably, causing a knot to settle in your stomach. 

“Arthur?'' You call his name softly, trying not to startle him. You tilt your head to look up into his face, trying to catch his attention, but Arthur’s icy stare is trained only on Micah. But then you notice that Micah’s hand is hovering at his side, fingers flexing over his gun in its holster. 

This has now elevated to a precarious situation that needs to be diffused quickly and delicately. You don’t understand why no one else is stepping in to break this up, but assume it’s probably to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Out of everyone in the gang, these are probably the two men that you absolutely would not want to tangle with. 

Dutch, conveniently, is not around for this show, which may be why Micah is suddenly so bold to openly challenge Arthur like this. While he likes showing off for Dutch, Micah knows he can push the envelope when the leader of the gang is not around, as if trying to insert himself into that coveted role. Over Arthur’s dead body, that is. 

When Arthur still doesn’t answer you, you inch even closer. Carefully, your arm lifts and moves fluidly across Arthur’s chest to lay your hand against his cheek. You calmly say his name again, “Arthur.” 

The simple act cuts to the outlaw instantly as he blinks out of his angry trance and turns to look at you, confused as if he hadn’t even noticed you were standing there. 

Once you catch his attention, you offer Arthur the softest of smiles, your eyes bright and sparkling, distracting him from the weasel that is his ire at the moment.

“Come with me, please.” Your request is quiet yet authoritative.

“What for?!” he snaps, the fury radiating off of him as you can feel how his whole body is flexed and rigid.

A slow and deep exhale emanates from you as you intensely hold his gaze. “Would you rather go for a walk with me..alone…by the river where it’s peaceful and quiet? Or sit here and argue with Micah Bell?” 

You can see Arthur’s mind trying to process your words, his anger and frustration wrestling with your simple logic.

 “Fine,” he barks, not really directing his venom at you.

Arthur reluctantly lets you snake your arm around his and turn him away from Micah. It’s like trying to pull a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. But Micah will not be dismissed so easily. His eyes narrow as he stares you down, just as you begin to maneuver Arthur away. 

“Oh sure, run and hide behind a skirt!" Micah teases. “Pretty damn sad, Morgan!”

“Shut your damn mouth, Micah, or I will shut it for you. Permanently!” Arthur’s voice booms through the camp as his finger points in Micah’s direction to accent his point. Arthur’s eyes lock coldly with Micah’s as he cranes his neck to shoot Micah one last heated glare before he continues to walk away with you.

“Come on, you,” you delicately chide Arthur, your arm and hands tightening around his bicep just a bit more, eager to get the two of them separated as fast as you can. 

Behind you, Micah stands pouting as the two of you walk away. A pain clicks in his chest as he watches how you handle Arthur. He sucks his lip between his jagged teeth, jaw clamping down on the tender skin. He’s irritated to no end with Arthur, but even more so, with your infatuation with the man. A pang of jealousy cuts deep into Micah as his fists clench open and closed as they still hover over his holster at his side.

“Micah’s got a point. Looks like Arthur’s gone soft on us,” Bill snarks as he stands with his thumbs hanging on his gunbelt.

“I’d like to see you tell him that to his face, Bill,” John quips. 

“Mock all you want, gentlemen,” adds Javier, waving his hand towards Micah and Bill. “But the fact of the matter is, that man is taking that woman to bed tonight.” And he points in your direction. “You two have fun all by yourselves in your tents later.”

“Shut up, Javier,” mumbles Bill. But Micah only stands in angry silence before spinning on his heels and heading off in a huff to get a whiskey bottle from one of the supply wagons to sulk.

The wind kicks up a bit, biting at your cheeks as you walk down the path out of the camp. Arthur is heatedly silent as you walk. It is little wonder to you why so many find him so intimidating and fearsome. 

Passing by the hitching posts, your gray Gypsy gets antsy, whinnying and stomping the ground in a tantrum at the possibility of being left behind. “Ugh, are you acting ornery today, too?” you huff as if scolding a child. “Alright, come on. You can come along, too.” You quickly grab Blue to follow, as he’s been pent up quite a bit lately and is itching to move about. 

You lead Arthur, with your horse in tow, as the path takes you down to the river’s edge. The soft lapping of the water against the sandy edge of the bank offers a calm and welcomed change of scenery. And it is here that you turn Arthur loose, letting him vent loudly, while you simply agree with everything he says, replying occasionally with “I know” and “I get it”. 

“Goddamn fool! Don’t know his ass from a hole in the ground!” shouts Arthur, waving his arms around.

“I know,” you reply calmly as you rub your hand along Blue’s nose and face. The horse nickers softly and nudges into you, like a cat purring in your hands as you watch Arthur pace back and forth in frustration like a wild animal in a cage. 

“And Dutch is gonna go along with it?! Just like that?” He flashes his intense blue eyes at you. 

“I know, it’s crazy,” you shake your head at him.

“Are they even thinkin’ ‘bout the rest o’ us?”

You just shrug. “I don’t get it, either,” you say calmly.

Arthur momentarily stops in his ranting and looks at you, finally taking a moment to breathe. Why you are not as heated as he is is beyond him. “Is that all you’re gonna say?” 

“Well, I figured I’d let you carry-on and wear yourself out and when it’s my turn to yell, you just point and then I’ll go.” You cross your arms over your chest and give him a little smirk. 

But Arthur’s face holds anything but amusement, as he firmly plants his hands on his hips in frustration. “I ain't in the mood for jokes, (Y/N),” he grits out slowly. 

A grin creeps its way across your face. “I bet I could get you to laugh.” 

“I doubt it,” he grumbles with a slight eye roll.

Squinting slightly in challenge with a teasing look, you walk over to him, placing your hands on his ribs before letting them slowly drift down to his waist. He raises an eyebrow at you but is quickly disappointed when your hands divert from his waistline to reach into his satchel and dig around until you pull out his leather gloves. Confused, Arthur’s eyes follow you as you saunter over to Blue and step up towards his great head, stopping to place each glove over one of the horse’s ears. As your horse twitches his ears, the gloves appear to be hands waving back and forth at you. 

“Huh…Huh?” You point at Blue, a huge grin erupting over your face, clearly pleased with yourself and your childish little distraction. 

Arthur just stares at you blankly, totally taken aback at your adolescent behavior. “You’re ridiculous,” he snorts with an eye roll to the heavens.

“Oh, come on, that’s funny and you know it!” you snicker, hugging Blue’s neck affectionately. 

Arthur rolls his eyes skyward once more, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at your nonsense as he finally ambles over to you. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he huffs. 

Knowing he’s been beaten, Arthur sighs with resignation, wrapping you up against his barrel chest and bear-hugging you tightly. Your glittering laugh gets muffled by his chest as your arms hook under his to return his embrace. Arthur pulls back for a moment, collecting your happy little face into his giant hands, and looks down at you. But all he can do is shake his head once more before hugging you again, placing his chin atop of your head. 

Amazingly, you were right: he has forgotten all about Micah Bell. 

Later, after you’ve gotten Arthur to calm down enough to safely be around other people again, the two of you are tucked away in his tent. He sits on the cot, scribbling something in his journal, as you stand in front of his shaving mirror, unpinning your hair and getting ready to retire for the evening. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I found something for you!” Your face lights up with excitement as you spin around back to his table and pick up one of the items sitting there. You eagerly shove a small aluminum tin into his face, hardly able to contain yourself. Arthur peers inside, curious what it is that has you so worked up. 

“Cherries?” he questions, surprised to see the little jeweled fruit inside. 

“Yeah! I found a cherry tree that the birds hadn’t gotten into yet, so I picked some for you. I remember you telling me that your mother used to make cherry cobbler for you as a kid. So I was going to try and make you some.” You look down at the tin of deep red fruit, shaking it a bit and watching them roll about. “I’ll have to mix these with some that we’ve jarred up, so it probably won’t be as good as hers,” you admit, mouth twisting a bit in disappointment, “but we’ll see.” You look back at him with a simple smile and shrug before turning to set the tin back down on the table. 

Arthur stares at you, thinking back to the other night at the fire when you whispered those lovely little words to him. His mind rolls over how you treat him, how you care for him, how you’ve made him your focus like no one ever has before. 

“Hey, you”, he mutters softly. 

You lift your face back to him, eyebrows arched awaiting him to continue. “Hmm?” 

The outlaw reaches out with his calloused hand and gently wraps it around your bicep, pulling you over to him. You stand between Arthur’s knees as he holds your hips and stares up at your angelic face. You lean over and kiss his forehead, his eyes fluttering closed as you run your fingers through his hair. After a moment, his eyes slowly open again, drinking you in. And Arthur realizes as he stares into your beautiful eyes that he has fallen in love with all of the millions of simple little things that you do, things that you do all of the time, and don’t even realize you’re doing them. 

“I love you, (Y/N).” 

You smile brightly down at him as his gravelly voice utters those amazing words so softly from his lips. You observe the seriousness in his face, so earnest in his declaration, as if he is trying to convince you of it. Arthur waits for your reply, hoping he hasn’t taken too long to tell you, fearing you’ve had second thoughts. 

After a brief moment you lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose. “I know,” you whisper, raising an eyebrow with that smart look you get. 

“I mean it”, he insists. “I never wanted more ‘til I had you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” His hands grasp a bit tighter as if he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him. “I suppose I was just too afraid to let myself go there again.” 

“It’s not love that you’re afraid of, Arthur. It’s that the next person that you love will be like the person who left you broken.” You cup your hands around his face, your thumbs drawing against the weathered skin of his cheeks. “I promise, I won’t do that to you.” 

Arthur’s eyebrows crease even further, that shadow of worry cascading over his face again. “(Y/N), I can’t give you the life you want, the life that you deserve.” 

“Are we doing this again?” you ask with a tinge of admonishment. “Arthur, I don't want someone who will promise me the world. I want someone who will hold me when I need it; who will bring me coffee in the morning; who will pull the blanket over me on cold nights when I’m sleeping. I want someone who will love me the same as I love them: madly, uncontrollably, inconveniently, and, yeah, maybe even foolishly.” A bright smile illuminates your face. “And I think you’re just the fool I’ve been waiting for.”

This makes a small chuckle break from his stern face as he shakes his head.

You pull his stubbled face in closer to yours. “I don’t care how complicated this gets, Arthur. I still want you.”

He lifts his hands from your hips and wraps them around your wrists as you continue to hold his face. “Maybe I’m afraid because you mean more to me than anyone ever has. I don’t want to mess that up.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you won’t mess it up, Arthur.”

You watch the idea of it settle over Arthur, wrapping him up like a warm blanket and just as comforting as one, too. The tension in his shoulders ebbs away and his eyes soften and twinkle, making them rival the bluest ocean. 

He smiles up at you again. “Say it.” 

“What?”

“Say it again for me, would ya? Say you love me.” Arthur beams up at you as he wraps his arms completely around your hips, pulling you in and holding you tightly.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. More than you can ever know or even comprehend.” You lean your face in close again, hovering sweetly over his. “We can do this, Arthur. I promise.” 

“Yeah, we can.”

—--------------------

The next day, Arthur, Charles and Javier have gone into town to get more supplies and stop for a round of poker and a quick drink. A quick drink soon turns into many. And many drinks turns into an argument with the locals. One that ends with the boys coming home victorious, but pretty banged up. Even as drunk as they were, the Van Der Linde gang is not a group of men to be messed with. 

Charles and Javier come back with mostly superficial wounds, black eyes and bruised ribs. Arthur, of course, always seems to carry the brunt of the trauma in these situations. If he’s not taking on the largest brawler, he’s dealing with more than one man at a time. Either way, Arthur is always the one to come home more torn up than the others.

But thankfully, you now have Arthur safely in your med tent, stitching up a shallow knife laceration in his side as he sits quiet and guilty. Arthur sheepishly avoids your eyes, as you are unusually silent about the situation, a clear indication that you are not happy about it. You tug on the thread of his stitches a little too aggressively as short huffs emanate from your nose in frustration.

“What if you get tired of this?” Arthur grumbles as he watches how you carefully pull the thread through his red and inflamed skin, wincing slightly as the needle pushes into his flesh over and over again. 

“Of what? Patching holes in you that you get from being reckless and stupid? Or seeing you without your shirt on? Because those are two totally different things,” you quip as your eyes briefly dart up to meet his before going back to your handiwork.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, I do hate seeing you all busted up and bleeding,” you frown. Your delicate fingers dance across the damaged skin, deftly folding the thread around your fingertips with expert precision.

“It ain’t so bad. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy’s knuckles,” Arthur jokes.

“Funny,” you deadpan.

“You ain’t the only one who’s funny, you know.” He pokes his long finger into your ribs in jest, making you squirm as you try to keep your hands steady.

“Point taken.” You continue to fuss, cleaning his wound and scrutinizing the stitchwork. “I will always take care of you, Arthur. I promise.” 

“And I will always be reckless and stupid,” he snickers. 

An exasperated sigh escapes you. “That wasn’t the point.” 

“Nope, can’t go back on your promise now,” he gloats.

—--------------------------------

You wake in the middle of the night in your tent, cold and lonely. Arthur was still out of camp when you went to bed tonight, but you miss him terribly. Sometimes when you are separated, you get this overwhelming feeling of emptiness without him. Maybe it is the ever-impending threat of danger that you live in. Or maybe it is that you just love him so much that it hurts to be apart. 

Still half asleep, you meander out of your tent and quietly pad over to Arthur’s, hoping to find him there. When you get to his tent and pull back the opening, you find him asleep on his cot. He still has his boots on, too, which means he came home and just plopped down and passed out. (Usually he will stop by your tent upon returning to camp, but you figure he was either too tired or didn’t want to disturb you.)

You smile with a great sense of relief and slip inside the tent, affixing the tent door down behind you again in privacy. You tiptoe over to the cot and carefully crawl onto the bedding. You snuggle-up next to Arthur’s side, lifting his arm and wrapping it around yourself as you rest your head on his chest. Once settled, you breathe out a sigh of contentment, nuzzling your face into his chest and eager to feel the warmth that radiates off of him. Within moments, you are back asleep, tucked safely under Arthur’s arm.

But while you fall back to sleep, Arthur is awake for the next hour that follows. He stirs at the feeling of your delicate hand around his wrist when you settle in next to him, but he has a hard time going back to sleep now. As you lay there together, Arthur listens to your peaceful breathing and inhales your flowery scent. He relishes the feeling of your weight on his chest and your feline-like body up against him. As he lays in the soothing darkness, his gaze lands on your gently sleeping form laying upon him. He observes how your chest steadily rises and falls with each delicate breath. He notices how you have carefully entwined your leg around his own, and your fingers gracefully splay across his beating heart. Arthur realizes that he has in his grasp what he’s always wanted:  someone to come home to, someone waiting for just him. And he doesn’t want to miss a single moment that he gets to hold you like this. 

When Arthur eventually shifts his weight, it causes you to stir from your comforted slumber. A large and deep yawn escapes you as you roll your eyes up to meet his blue orbs gazing down at you. A sleepy grin blooms across your face when you see that he is awake. 

Arthur softly runs the back of his dirt-stained knuckles against your cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, it’s alright. I should probably be getting up anyway.” You sigh with a slight pang of disappointment as you roll yourself up and stand off the cot. 

“Aw c’mon, stay with me,” Arthur whines, catching your hand and holding it tightly. 

“All night?”

“Yeah, all night,” he insists. “It ain’t like people don’t know what we’re up to in here. And either way, it’s none of their business anyway.” He rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he continues to hold yours, playing with your fingers and drawing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Do you really want to roll over and wake up with my face smashed into yours?” you tease.

“More than anything.” Arthur tugs you back down to him and kisses the corner of your eye, making you giggle. ”I’ll make it worth your while,” he utters out in a sultry tone, causing your knees to go weak. Your only response is a flutter of your eyelashes and a deep kiss to his pillowy lips as you climb back onto his cot. 

Arthur shifts his body and wraps his muscled arm around you to usher you back down, pinning you under him. A quiet hum escapes into the quiet, still air as he quickly deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing past your sweet lips. You hungrily reciprocate his affection, your hand gliding from his cheek to the back of his head as your fingers card through his hair. The feeling of your fingernails gently scraping along his scalp sends shivers throughout his whole tired body. Slowly, your knee bends, rubbing your leg against his much larger frame, indicating that you want more. 

Arthur’s hand roams freely and greedily over your sumptuous body as his palm firmly clamps over your breast, massaging the tender flesh before his mouth encompasses it over the thin cotton of your nightgown. Your chin floats back at the feeling of him touching you, your mind already lost in an incoherent fog. He works his way from your breast to your sternum, and proceeds to leave a trail of kisses and caresses down your figure. And as things go, your heat begins to tingle and ache with dire need. The anticipation is wreaking havoc with you, drawing soft whines and moans from your throat. 

The delicious sounds emanating from you set Arthur ablaze inside. He quickly sits up onto his knees as he begins to impatiently pull at your nightgown. But instead of just pushing it up, he yanks the obstructing article up and over your head. With the top half of your body exposed, Arthur makes quick work of your bloomers, folding your legs up in front of him so he can work the fabric down your lovely calves and over your feet. 

You are now completely bare to him, your large, shining eyes staring up at him as he looms over you like a predator. Arthur’s own eyes are filled with a divine mixture of love and lust, just for you. Your arms stretch out to him as a silent plea for him to continue. With a smirk, Arthur is quick to pull his shirt over his head and undo the buttons of his trousers and union suit underneath. You reach up and clumsily tug at the sleeves of his undergarment, exposing his chest to the cold night air. He has no time to strip himself down completely, as once his hard cock springs free from its confines, it is very clear he is ready to get things moving along. 

Arthur covers your body with his own once more, slowly rocking back and forth with a hypnotic motion. Your leg snakes around his backside in response, your heel digging into his thigh. Hot, steamy breaths cover each other’s faces from the barrage of wet heated kisses as the intimacy quickly escalates. Arthur’s hand drifts down between your two bodies to seek out your tender folds. A sharp moan jumps from your lips as the pads of his fingers sublimely rake across the delicate skin between your legs and your pelvis jerks up to grind against his palm. 

“Christ Almighty,” Arthur pants with his lips crushed against your temple.

“I know”, you sigh in agreement. 

A deep and guttural groan erupts from his chest, filled with want and desire for you. Feeling how your slick coats his fingers already, Arthur reluctantly withdraws his fingers to give himself a few quick pumps of his cock, using your wetness to lubricate himself. He rolls his hips to align his large body at your entrance, looking down at where your hips conjoin. Your hands find their way under his arms and grasp tightly to the flesh of his back, urging him to move forward and to do it quickly. Arthur’s chin lifts to meet your gaze, finding your mouth gaped and eyes heavy-lidded with wondrous longing as his name falls as a whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

He hastily pushes himself into you, his usual slow and careful pace forgotten about. The feeling of his thick cock being roughly shoved into you makes you cry out, but you are quickly muffled with his scorching mouth over top of yours. Arthur is quick to start a fast pace, as his hips snap sharply into yours, rutting deeply into your core. The velvety walls of your cunt flutter tightly around him when you feel his length twitching inside you. The grinding is euphoric, sending waves of pleasure shooting throughout your bodies. The way the two of you sync up in the throws of passion is glorious, transcending any pleasure either of you have ever known. 

Arthur proceeds to sit back up onto his knees so he can fully take in the vision of you, your body shuddering beneath him from his force. The cot creaks beneath you as the very strength of its joints is being tested. He wraps his hands around your soft thighs for leverage as he observes how his cock glides in and out of you. Your back lifts off of the cot, arching to angle your pelvis towards him, eager for him to fill you even more, if that is even possible. Your hands seek out his thick wrists, slightly pulling yourself towards him to match his motion. When your head drops back against the canvas of the cot again, Arthur immediately falls forward to suck on your exposed jugular, leaving slight bite marks that pinch your overly sensitive skin. 

“You are so fucking amazing,” he garbles into your skin. “I don’t ever want to leave this tent.”

His burly body covers yours once again, encasing you under his muscled limbs as his arm snakes around your head, his face tucked tightly into your neck. 

“Then we won’t,” you whisper. You turn your face towards his, your bottom teeth dragging across the plump skin of his earlobe, your panting hissing in his ear as he continues to rock into you. You can taste the saltiness of his skin and the faint notes of earthy musk from being out all day in the elements as your tongue flicks at the bare skin of his shoulder as you attempt to muffle your moans into the muscle there. Your whole naked body feels as if it’s on fire with every inch of it touching him right now. The sound of your beloved outlaw grunting lustfully into your ear erases any and all other outside distractions or thoughts. And as his torso lurches back and forth over you, you feel that oh-so lovely lightning barrling its way towards your climax. 

“Whatever you do, don’t stop now,” you whine. Your arms encircle Arthur even tighter as you await that rapturous feeling that you know is coming. 

As usual, your whole body clamps down around him when your climax hits. Your wanton squeaks and moans are a bewitching melody in Arthur’s mind. The already-tight walls of your cunt restrict around his hefty cock, drawing out a brief whimper from him, pushing him to his own orgasm as he pulls himself out of you and rubs himself against your stomach in search of that friction needed to finish. 

Arthur instinctively clutches you to himself when he climaxes with an almost bone-crushing pressure. You tremble slightly, more from the overstimulation than from the damp night air encompassing you. You curl up into him, clinging desperately to his frame. Your fingertips dig into the valley of his spine, the soft chestnut colored hair that decorates his back sticking to his skin with a thin layer of sweat. The two of you have been together quite a few times by now, but every damn time it is exquisite, just as if it was the first time all over again.

The feeling of Arthur’s chest rapidly rising and falling beneath your arms mesmerizes you as you feel the very life of him coursing through your hands while you lay there wrapped up in each other. You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek as you nestle your face into that coveted space where his massive shoulder and neck meet. The weight of Arthur on top of you is so comforting. Where some may consider Arthur’s sheer bulk smothering, you find it calming. You wonder how he could ever think you are not safe when you’re with him, as that is always where you feel the most secure.

Your hips are always a bit sore after making love to Arthur, not used to opening up so wide to accommodate such a large man, but you snicker as you tell yourself that you’ll just have to do it more often to get used to it. The more you are together, the more comfortable and relaxed you become, giving in to the sweet intoxicating feeling of the other. The societal shame and guilt that often gets attributed to the act of sex have long been discarded. You two are no longer self conscious about being too loud, and are no longer hiding your bodies from each other in fear of rejection. Playful giggles of excitement, needy and eager hands, and exploratory kisses are the norm for you two now. 

Both fully expended and exhausted, Arthur hands you one of his towels to clean your stomach of his pearly spend that scatters across your skin. Once you toss the soiled linen to the side, Arthur shifts his body lower so he can lay his head onto your chest and pulls his blanket up and over the two of you. Your lips lay against the crown of his head as you play with the thick waves of hair while your fingertips drag along his forearm that tightly holds you to him. And within moments, you are both fast asleep again. 

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

After breakfast, you finish washing up the last of the dirty dishes, drying your hands on your short apron as you head over to the horses to give them the vegetable scraps. Arthur is already over there, throwing down some grain and fresh water for the lot. He catches your eye as you approach, giving you a smile and nod as you return his gaze with a blushing grin, the memory of last night still fresh in your mind as well as between your thighs. 

Arthur watches you as you toss the greens into the horses’ buckets, laughing lightly as they push each other to get to you. “Alright, piglets, hold on. There’s enough to go around.” You lovingly pat Taimia on the neck, as she is the best behaved out of all of these “spoiled children”. Arthur draws on the cigarette that hangs from his mouth, his eyes hovering over you. He squints slightly as he fidgets with the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, his thoughts kicking around in his head since last night.

“Hey, so I’ve been doin’ some thinkin’...” he starts nervously, his voice hesitant as he tosses the butt into the grass. 

You look over your shoulder back to Arthur as you try to keep Blue from nipping at your pockets, looking for treats. “Yeah?”

 “When we setup the new camp in a few days, what if you put your things in my tent?” He averts his gaze from yours for a second, unsure of how you will react to his suggestion.

But you simply give him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

Arthur takes a tentative breath before he elaborates. “You know, move your things over and, um…stay there.”

It takes a moment to register, but the idea of it causes a huge smile to slowly spread across your face from ear to ear. “Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to share your tent with you?” Your cheeks flush like a brilliant rose and you nibble your bottom lip with excitement.

Arthur reciprocates with a big grin of his own. “I kinda like the idea of waking up next to you every mornin’.” He swaggers over closer to you. “Although you do snore, though.”

“I do not!” you exclaim in playful offense, your hands planting onto your hips.

“Yeah, you do. It’s cute, though,” he snickers. “Like a cat meowing.” He proceeds to imitate a snore/meow sound as he pulls you to him by your waist. 

You slap his arm as you playfully scowl at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” Arthur arches an eyebrow at you as he ducks his head to kiss under your jawline. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” smirking as you roll your eyes. “I'm kind of already invested in you and all.”

“It kinda works out nice that way. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

Your effervescent giggle makes Arthur’s heart melt. “I’ll take that deal.”

Arthur cups his hand around your cheek, his thumb pushing your chin up so he can look into your glittering eyes. “I’ll ride with you through all the bullshit, Y/N, just as long as you don’t bullshit me. Fair?”

Your delicate hands run up his chest and push over his strong shoulders where your fingers lace together behind his neck. “I can only make you two promises, Arthur:  That I will never hurt you in the way that I, myself, have been hurt, and that I will love you in the ways that you, yourself, have never been loved.” 

You stare into those sapphire eyes of his, trying not to get distracted by the full-range of emotions he has dammed up behind them, emotions that you have only just begun to unleash. “I don't want to just be with you, Arthur. I want to live and love with you. I want to experience every single thing, stupid or great, that our time on this Earth is willing to give us together.” 

A deep and relaxing breath is pulled into Arthur’s lungs and released, taking with it any of the anxiety and doubt that he’s been fostering over this new thing, this new beginning that you have gifted him and that he cannot wait to start.

“Just be with me now and we’ll figure out the details later, I suppose,” he hums. He leans down to catch the rose petals of your lips into a delicate kiss. Your eyes float close and you smile into his mouth. The kiss is not too short, nor too long, but just perfect, as it carries all of the affection you both hold within it.

Arthur pulls back from you, and cradles your face in both of his large hands, staring down at your happy, sparkling expression. 

“In my life full of wrongs, Y/N,  you’re the thing that’s right in it. And I don’t want to miss a minute of it.” 

[faraway-archive]

I Finally Saw You Again

Yan!Childhood friend x GN reader

Tw: typical yandere stuff, possession (kinda hinted at)

AN; I should really post their intro post before writing their ficts n' stuff & this has a lot of fluff and not really a lot of yandere-ish. Oopsie. Also put your age on your blog or I will block you <3

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

It's been a long time since you've last seen your best friend. He has been with you through thick and thin but suddenly had to move away to his parents to find a better job. You hope he's been doing well and that one day you will find him again. You cherish the fond memories as a kid up till high school were his parents decided to go somewhere else. You always wish he had written back since you've seen so many letters but none ever got returned.

And here you are entering college with no traces of him anywhere on social media. You hope nothing has happened to him or his family since they also have gone radio silent on your parents as well. But at least the show must go on and you continue your academic studies.

While you were entering one of your classes, you didn't notice that your childhood best friend was also in your class. You were so absorbed in trying to find the best spot to sit you didn't see his way in the back of the class. Staring at you and fidgeting with his pencil wondering if he should go and talk to you. Biting his lip he decided not to talk to you. Yet. He just watches you from afar. And thus, class started and ended in a blur. He watches you scramble to get to your next class as he casually walks out.

You were here and he couldn't believe it. All this time you've stayed in your home town while he has been away.

After your last class ends, you quickly rush to the dining hall. Dreading the long wait line as everyone else seemed also ended class as well. While waiting you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around. It was your childhood best friend, Wren. Jumping with joy you hug him and he wraps his arms around you. Once you both let go of your hugs, you realize it is time to enter the dining hall so you quickly grab a seat and wait for Wren to enter in. Soon after you had a lot of time catching up.

"So how have you been Wren? How's your siblings?"

"Things have been well, it was hard adjusting to a new school but I managed. Dove and Robin have been doing well. How have you been doing? Hope you've been doing well. It's nice to see you again," He gives a wink after that last remark.

Blushing from the sudden gesture you replied, "Well I've been doing good as well. I have to ask though, why didn't you respond to my letters?"

Wren taking a bite of his food, "Well, I thought they were being sent to you since I gave them to my parents. But I guess they didn't send it or something came up and it never got to you. Which sucks I will say. Since I thought they were being sent and you just never replied to me. Thought you were ignoring my letters." He softly chuckles at that idea. Either way, he thought, you were going to be his no matter what because he would find you. He would have traveled all over the world to find you because you were the only one who made his heart flutter. You are the reason that he gets out of bed every day because he knows that you are alive.

Taking a sip of your drink you replied, "Well that's strange, I wonder why your parents did that because I was for sure expecting you to ignore me and forget me since, you know, I didn't get any letters back no matter how hard I got them mailed to you. I thought I was going insane."

He hums in response as he continues to eat his food, you on the other hand kept looking at him. You never notice how cute he was or how muscular he has gotten. It's driving you insane with how much he has changed over the years. While staring he can't help but smirk at you looking at him.

"You like what you see darling?"

Taken aback by his words you covered your mouth and quickly stuttered out, "No, I was just admiring the painting behind you. Yeah!"

Softly chuckling at your attempt to hide your reaction, "Ah I see. If you say so."

Quickly finishing your meal you thank him for meeting up with him and rush to go back into your dorm. Embarrassed that he caught you in the act of looking at him. And while doing so he can't help but fall in love again. Smiling at the fact that you are now in his reach. Now that he can truly keep you with him forever he will never let you escape once again.

Ever since Wren saw you in his class, he couldn't stop thinking about you and wanting you. He stalks and follows your every movement. His love for you has re-sparked (not that it was gone in the first place) and he is determined to make sure you are his partner forever.

He couldn't help but stare at you, how beautiful and amazing you looked to him as a kid. You treated him so kindly as if he was a normal person. You were everything to him. He wants you oh so badly you have no idea how much he is wrapped around your pretty finger. Now that he doesn't have his parents on his ass controlling him, he can finally do whatever he wants. What a shame that his parents never gave him your letters but no matter, as long as you were within his sight he could never lose you.

[sh0ek0]

midnight love (part 4)

please find the other parts via my masterlist in the pinned post on my blog!

pairing: megumi x f!reader summary: after surprising you on your 21st birthday, you ditch your friends to be with Megumi and finally talk. How will things be between the two of you, after everything that happened? genre: angst, but there's smut in the end heh content warning: !aged up characters!, college au, abusive/toxic relationship and dynamics, dark content, euphoria inspired dialogue (the part in the car is heavily inspired but I just love that conversation), mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking/cigarettes, explicit smut I guess lol word count: 6.7k

a/n: honestly, even if one person likes and comments on my writing it motivates me to keep going so thank you @denkisupremacist ily. also thanks to everyone else that commented/liked/reblogged the other parts. if u want to be tagged just dm me <3

recommended songs: midnight love - girl in red / I THINK - Tyler, The Creator / Altitude - Montell Fish / Exscape - Montell Fish

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD ! MDNI ! 18+

It wasn't that you liked lying to your friends. But as soon as you stepped back into the bar and slipped the necklace Megumi had just given you into your pocket, you knew you had to come up with an excuse to get out of here as quickly as possible.

"There you are!"

Yuji and Yuta were standing in front of you. They had both put on their jackets and looked at you with relief as you walked through the door.

"We came to check on you, you've been gone for almost half an hour," Yuji says, and you see Yuta's eyes follow your hand as you stuff the necklace into your pocket, but he says nothing.

"Uh—sorry, guys I could’ve texted one of you," you mumble, "my mum, she, uh, just had a lot to talk about." 

Yuji’s is about to return to the others and take you with him to complete his mission as you link arms with him, when suddenly you both hear Yuta clear his throat. You spin around, feeling caught as you see the tall boy still standing there, frozen in place, his expression telling you that he didn't buy your story. 

You hesitate for a moment, but then you give Yuta a questioning look.

"Really? Did something happen? I mean, it's late, why didn't she call you earlier if she wanted to talk?", Yuta asks and you let go of Yuji's arm, who oblivious to the suggestiveness in Yuta's voice. You watch him make his way back to your table before turning back to Yuta.

"No, everything's fine," you start as Yuta avoids your gaze and looks outside through the large windows in the entrance, as if he expected someone to be waiting there, "I guess my mum just misses me.

"Are you waiting for someone or shall we go back?" you finally ask him with a smile on your lips as he turns back to you.

"The texts that popped up on your phone earlier weren't from your mum, y/n." 

You flinch, barely noticeable, as you hear what Yuta says to you. You had already turned away from him to join the others, deciding that if he wanted to investigate any further, he could do so on his own.

"Yuta, please…", you groan and look at him, rolling your eyes.

Now you really wanted to avoid him, so instead of going back to the others, you made your way through the people towards the bar in the back.

"No, stop avoiding me, I know he texted you." You heard his voice from right behind you. Great, he followed you.

"What do you want to hear now?", you ask him, turning to look him straight in the eye. He holds your gaze, towering over you as he takes off his jacket. You climb onto one of the stools by the bar and cross your arms like a stubborn child.

"I want to hear that you're not only getting older but also more mature, y/n," Yuta sighs, plopping down on the bar stool right next to you.

"How long have we known each other now? Three years? Four years? You were already Maki's best friend when I met you two."

"What’s you point, Yuta? Is it because of Maki? I don't think he'll do anything to her, I can assure you..."

"No, y/n, he won't do anything to her, but he will do something to you, and you don't want to realize that."

"Yuta, he said he’s sorry, he was drunk and he saw me with Choso, that was kind of my fault, I-", you protest, "I triggered that reaction." 

You could see the spark of desperation flash across Yuta's face. It wasn't your fault, you didn't provoke him, you didn't trigger his reaction - but you weren't ready to admit that. 

"He would never hurt me on purpose, I think he just needs... help," you added, "I can help him."

Yuta pressed his lips together and closed his eyes for a tiny moment. His sigh was clearly audible, he rubbed his temples as if his head hurt. 

"None of us can protect you," he admitted, before taking a deep breath, "and I can't bear to hold my girlfriend in my arms over and over again while she cries because her best friend wakes up next to her from a panic attack five nights in a row, because she was assaulted and almost strangled by a guy she thinks loves her."

His words force you to look up at him and your eyes widen as you realize what he had just said. Maki has always been so strong for you, you don't remember when you last saw her crying, and now you realize how selfish you have been. You were only able to put up with everything Megumi had done to you because your friends were there to catch you.

"And I'm afraid of the day I'll find out that this guy has gone too far and I'll never be able to see my friend again." Yuta takes one of the two beers he ordered for both of you and takes a sip.

You swallow, amazed at how quickly this conversation had turned.

"Yuta, you know Megumi, you know what his problems are, I can't leave him, I love him," you blurt out, "I can't leave him."

"I haven't really known him for a while now, and I think he needs therapy before he's allowed to ever come near you again."

"You're not his personal punching bag, fuck, y/n, I've seen that before with my mum and my - my dad." 

Your heart starts beating faster as you listen to what he reveals. He's never told you that before.

"He won't change," he mumbles, taking another sip, his gaze averted from you.

"That," his eyes were on your neck now, making you want to turn away from him, "you can still cover up. Next will be the black eye and the broken nose."

"If you’re lucky," he adds quietly. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

It was just like the conversation with Yuji, you just couldn't argue, you had no arguments. You could justify everything to yourself, but to Yuta? To Yuji? To Maki? Of course they were right, but you didn't want to hear it. You didn't believe that you could be alone and you didn't believe that you could ever love another person the way you loved Megumi. What could you say to your friends, your friends who had been worried from the beginning? 

Megumi had once belonged to this group, until he changed more and more and your relationship grew more difficult. 

So you wondered what you should tell your friends in the future. Right in this moment, you couldn't even look Yuta in the eye, especially him, he had been the first to notice…

"Let me go, Megumi, you’re hurting me," you begged, pressed up against the wall. It was dark, of course it was, you went out tonight with all of your friends and you were far away from the dance floors upstairs. It was so dark that you could barely make out his face, only occasionally did a few lights flash across his features.

He had one hand on your hip, his fingers digging into your bare skin, while the other had a firm grip on your jaw, forcing you to look at him. 

"What was that, huh?", he spat at you, he was nearly fuming, his body pressed up against yours in an attempt to keep you in place, "Were you flirting with him? I saw the looks you gave him."

"'Gumi he’s in one of my seminars, it was noth—ow!" You grimace in pain as his hand leaves your hip and grabs your upper arm instead, pulling you along with him. He walks a few steps until you are at the foot of the stairs leading up. Megumi rears up in front of you, towering over you as he forces you a few more steps backwards into the cramped space between the stairs and the wall.

"No, stop, what are you doing, I don’t-", you protest, but you have no chance to escape, "Stop this nonsense, Megumi, nothing happened, let me..."

"You’re dressed like a fucking hooker for what, hmm? For him?", he growled, the tone of his voice silencing you in an instant, "Wanna show me what you wanted to do to him?" He pushed you against the wall. You groaned as you lost your balance for a second and hit the back of your head.

"Come on, don’t be so shy now." 

You stared up at your boyfriend, trapped between him and the wall behind you. His hands were groping all over your body, and you felt his right hand move up to grab your chin again, but this time it didn't stay there. Instead, his fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly, but none of that seemed familiar. He had done this before, in another setting, he knew you liked it, but this time was different. Even though it was dark, you could see the lust in his eyes, but there was none in yours. And you could feel how upset he was, he was angry and rough and you knew that he didn't care what you wanted at the moment.

"Stop, I—I don’t want this, let me go," you sobbed and tried to wriggle out of his grip, "Megumi, please, let me go…"

"What the fuck, man, leave her alone."

You looked up to see Yuta rushing down the stairs, grabbing Megumi by the shoulders and pulling him back without waiting for any more context. He read the situation right, so he didn't need you to confirm anything for him. 

He heard you the first time.

"Fuck, man, what was that supposed to be? What's wrong with you?", he shouted at him, pushing him back, further down the hall. Yuta actually was a bit taller than Megumi and was able to keep him in check, even if he fought back. You had probably never seen Yuta this upset and Megumi seemed to think the same, but you had no intention of staying to see what they would make of it. 

As soon as Megumi was busy with Yuta, you gave him a thankful look and hurried up the stairs, right into Maki’s arms. She quickly realised what was going on and sent Yuji to separate the two. 

After that, you left with her and Nobara and that was the first of many nights you spent in Maki's bed, instead of your own.

"Hey, guys, there you are," Maki interrupts the two of you as she walks over to her boyfriend and puts her arm around his waist.

Noticing that the others have also gathered around you, obviously ready to leave, you look in the other direction and wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes. 

"We've decided to move on," Yuji says excitedly, "we'll either go to another bar or back to our apartment, what do you think?"

"That's actually a good idea," Yuta chimes in, standing up and grabbing his jacket before taking Maki's hand, "let's go."

You stand up as well and take your chance while you can.

"Guys, I would love to come with you, but I have to retake an exam on Monday and I think I really need to catch up on some sleep," you explain, and you're not even lying, "Shoko offered to drive me home, she's already waiting for me outside, so I think I should go."

Well, that was a lie.

Your friends protest, but you ignored them - you had already put on your jacket and were about to give each of them a big hug.

"Thank you for the surprise," you say and wave goodbye, "Honestly guys, it was so much fun with you, thank you."

You smile and did your best to avoid their glances, trying not to look at Yuta, Choso or Maki, who had probably already seen through you as well.

"See you," you mumble and turn around, taking your phone out of your purse to text Megumi before you had even left the bar.

You grin to yourself, eyes glued to you phone as you push open the door, your other hand fishing the necklace out of the pocket of your jeans. You put your phone back in your purse before you put your necklace back on when you hear another notification.

Megumi had sent you his location, so you followed the map on your phone screen without looking back. You were already quite far away and out of sight, but if you had turned around, you would have seen how your friends left the bar. And then you would have seen how Gojo and Getou were standing outside with them, with Shoko in their middle, waiting for the others. 

Shoko, who, as you told them earlier, was supposed to drive you home.

You are just about to get into his car as a call from Maki appears on your screen. Instead of answering it, you reject the call, and you lean over to Megumi to kiss him. Then you turn off your phone.

***

I know I don’t want to Be the one that you run to When you got nowhere else to go When you need some love

You watched as Megumi tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, while you were silently listening to the music playing in the car. He had one hand on your thigh and while he was driving the two of you sat in comfortable silence. The setting was much too familiar for you to be nervous around him.

"Why did you not even hesitate for a second when I texted you earlier?"

I know I’m the last one You try to call but I always give in To give  you  it  all

"What?", you ask after a moment. You understood what he said, but still.

"I know I hurt you, I mean-" He looked over to you, before turning back to the street.

"I mean, not only physically but also.. emotionally." 

Yue. 

The images of him being all over her came back flooding to your brain and you just shook your head as if you were trying to get those thoughts out of your mind. 

"Can we not talk about that?", you ask and try to smile at him, while you feel his hand squeezing your thigh.

I can’t be your midnight love When your silver is my gold

Megumi stays quiet after that. You sink deeper into the seat and think about the last time you sat here, think about what you said to him.

"Sometimes I feel like you've ruined me forever," you say after a while, staring out of the windshield in front of you. You let your head fall back against the headrest, before turning to look at him.

In this light, I swear I’m blind In this light, I swear you’re mine

"Well, it does sound romantic when you say it like that," Megumi replies after thinking about your words for a little while.

"I still love you, you know that?" He looks at you.

"Yeah, you said that, after kissing me goodbye earlier," you mumble, not taking your eyes off him,

"But why, though? Why do you love me, when you do all this?"

You can see that he thinks about your question for a moment, and when he speaks, it’s probably not quite what you wanted to hear. Rather, you wanted to hear why he hurt you so much, again and again, when he said he loved you.

"'Cause you’re smart. And cruel, in a way, but not really. You’re so beautiful I don’t ever get tired of looking at you."

"Not really smart?", you ask.

"Not really cruel," Megumi says.

You nod and you don’t say anything after that, at least not for little while. Instead, you watch the lights go by as the car pulls off the highway and slows down after another few minutes, eventually coming to a stop and you realize you're in the parking lot in front of Megumis dorm building. 

You look over at him, once again.

"You know, it’s funny that you say that," you observe, "it’s funny because that’s something I didn’t really realize until after you broke up with me."

"That you’re the cruel one, and not me."

You swallow and feel his hand leaving your thigh to turn off the car.

"Did you know that I loved you?", you ask, without taking your eyes off of him, "Of course you know that, I’ve told you often enough."

You told him right in this car, a few weeks ago. The exact same thing.

"I’ll probably sound like a broken record but I’m not talking about obsessing over you, or fighting or fucking," you declare and your hands start trembling, "I’m talking about love."

"Did you feel loved by me?" The question rolls of your tongue so easily but the minute you asked, you were afraid of the answer.

"I don’t know." He says, almost to quiet for you to hear him. That’s what you were afraid of.

"I don’t know if I feel anything, really," he adds,

"I just know that I love you. And I haven’t stopped, ever, since the moment I first saw you."

I hope that the right time one day arrives So I’ll be willing to let this die Able to look you right in the eyes Say I’m not your consolation prize

"You wanna stay the night?", he then asks, one hand still on the steering wheel, as if he needs to hold on to something. 

"I’d love to," you reply immediately.

***

You hadn't even made it into his dorm room as you were already pressed up against him, the two of you tightly entwined, one of his hands roaming your body while the other one was trying to unlock the door. As soon as you stepped into the building together you'd closed the distance between you, pressed your lips so gently to his, and he didn't stop kissing or touching you since, the way up to the second floor taking longer than expected.

You couldn't even begin to describe how good it was to feel him, to taste him, to smell him, to be pressed up against his body, to feel his breath on your skin as you heard the small pants he released into your mouth.

When Megumi finally manages to open the door, you almost lose your balance and you interrupt the kiss to catch yourself from stumbling. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he was able to catch you, his arms already wrapped around your body anyway. You noticed how content he looked, his eyes never once leaving yours, instead he seemed to get lost in them as he maneuvered you backwards into his apartment.

"What abou—mhmm," you try to ask, but you're quickly interrupted by Megumi pressing his lips to yours again as he closes the door behind you. 

"What about Noritoshi?", you try again as he pulls away.

"Hmm?", he asks, and you can almost see the question marks popping up above his head. 

Not a second later it dawns on him. 

"Ohh, no, he's still out of the country," he says, kicking off his shoes, before locking his lips with yours again.

Right, his roommate's semester abroad, you almost forgot that he’s living alone at the moment.

"Thank God," you murmur against his lips as you slip your hands under his hoodie and t-shirt, pushing them both up and feeling the goosebumps on his skin as you touch him. He grins at your words and you help him out of his clothes, which he tosses carelessly to the side.

Standing with your back to the door, you had already slipped out of your jacket, it had found its place on the floor next to his clothes. Your noses bump together in the heat of the moment as Megumi pulls your shirt over your head, his lips so desperate to find yours again after being separated for a moment. 

It causes both of you to giggle.

You look at him in awe, and even though you noticed earlier tonight that he must have lost some weight, he still looked so good. You reach out to him and touch his chest, your fingertips ghosting over his skin, tracing the outline of his abs down his stomach until you hook a finger into the waistband of his jeans, and you manage to open them up with the help of your other hand. 

You don't get much further than that, as Megumi presses you up against the door slightly, his hands roaming your body before opening up your bra in a swift motion, tossing it to the side just like he did with your other clothes. His lips were on yours again and he relaxes into the kiss, supporting himself with his left hand next to your face, while his right caressed your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips and tapping your thigh once, then twice, signaling you to wrap your hands around his neck, so you did. He picked you up with ease, his lips never leaving yours even for a second while your legs wrapped around his waist and he carries you through the room, over to his bed.

Megumi sets you down carefully on the mattress, pulling back for a moment to get rid of his jeans and pulling yours down as well before crawling after you. He hovers over you, supporting himself with both hands next to your face, taking a good look at your body before pressing his mouth to yours and forcing his tongue inside, making you moan against his lips.

His lips trail up your jaw, then down your neck to suck on your sensitive skin. You were lost in thought and the sensation made you flinch for a split second as you were still afraid of any kind of touch to your neck. You did your best not to show it, but of course he noticed.

"'m sorry, baby," Megumi mumbles against your skin, kissing up to the corner of your mouth, while you assure him that everything's alright. 

"It’s okay," you breathe, cupping his face with one hand as you look into his eyes. He hesitates for a moment, but you can see a smile tugging at his lips.

"What?", you ask, brushing a black strand of hair out of his face.

"You look so pretty," he sighs. After all, he was the only one that was able to make you blush like that.

"Oh, stop it." You loved it when he talked like this.

"No, I missed your pretty face," he insists.

"Missed those two pretty girls," he continues, as his lips trail down your chest, kissing your soft skin and latching his mouth onto your hardened nipple, while his hand began to play with the other bud. He drew a few soft moans from you, your fingertips grabbing at his messy hair. 

After giving some attention to them, he released your already swollen nipple with a lewd pop! to move his lips further down your body, peppering your stomach with kisses, his nose brushing over your skin and the cold air hitting your wet buds sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn’t help but whine as he kissed down the inside of your thighs, spreading them apart with his large hands while his fingertips were digging into you skin, revealing the damp fabric of your panties. As he kissed the wet patch that was already starting to form you had no other response for him than the needy moan that escaped your lips, and when you felt his teeth grazing at the seam of your underwear, you grew impatient.

"'Gumi, please," you whimper, your fingers still buried in his dark hair, now slightly tugging at the ends.

"Missed my pretty pussy," he groans, before pulling your wet panties to the side, making you shiver once again as the cold air met your slick. 

"Fuck, you’re so wet for me," Megumi hisses, swiping his thumb over your clit and through your folds, gathering your juices.

"All for me," he muses, looking up at you as you lie there, looking so pretty for him, with flushed cheeks and those lewd moans that you couldn’t stop from escaping your throat.

"Megumi, please," you plead, again, wriggling your hips downwards in his direction, "n-need you, now."

But he ignored your begging, savoured this moment to the fullest while he inspected your pussy, admiring how wet you were just from making out with him.

"Stop being such a fucking tease," you whimper and close your eyes, throwing your head back in a stubborn attempt to grasp a single, clear thought, while your mind was already growing so dizzy with him taking his time.

"Mhm, won’t let me enjoy the view for a moment, huh? So needy already", Megumi groans with a sly grin on his lips. He pulls down your panties in an agonizingly slow motion, keeping them in his hands before coming back up to press a kiss to your lips, which you return hungrily, causing him to chuckle. 

He pulls away, while staring deep into your eyes.

"Open your mouth," he orders while you just stare at him through glassy eyes. You’re perplexed for a second, looking at your panties in his hand.

"I said," he coos, lowering himself down to your ear, "open your mouth."

You finally obey, parting your lips and showing your tongue. Without another word he stuffs your dampened panties into your mouth, the sensation of your own taste on your tongue drawing a muffled moan from you. 

"Next time think twice before giving me orders," he growls into your ear, his low voice making you rub your thighs together in anticipation. You nod, moaning against the fabric as Megumi returns to his original position, and hooks his arms around your legs. Without another warning he licks a thick stripe along your dripping cunt, swirling his tongue through your wet folds, but never quite hitting your clit. He was still teasing you, not giving you what you wanted just because you acted up.

You let out a desperate moan, even though it’s muffled by the soft fabric stuffed into your mouth. A fat tear rolls down your cheek while you’re squirming beneath him, desperate for some attention on your swollen bud. 

His tongue circles your entrance, licking through your folds while he’s eager on not giving your clit too much attention. You whimper and whine, your body trembling underneath him as your hands let go of his hair, moving up your thighs towards your core when you couldn’t wait any longer for him to finally give you what you wanted.

The vibrations of Megumi humming against your slick left you wanting for more, and just as you were about to let your own fingers dive in, giving yourself some kind of release and rubbing at your clit, he grabs both of your wrists with one of his large hands and holds them tightly while he continued to lap at your sweet pussy. You’re left whining and begging, most of your sounds being inaudible, but he could hear how desperate you were. 

You almost choke on your own spit as you suddenly feel him sucking hard on your neglected clit, your hips bucking up towards him made him release your wrists from his tight grip. He dug his fingers into the plush of your thighs to force them back open and keep you from suffocating him between your legs, after they clamped down around his head at the unexpected sensation.

Those deep groans he was releasing into your sopping pussy made you even wetter, and it felt like Megumi wanted to drown in you, his tongue pushing in and out of your hole, circling your clit and sucking on it, while you were only able to roll your eyes back and whine in desperation, your moans getting swallowed as your mouth was stuffed full. 

You throw your head back again, breathing hard through your nose, while hot tears kept flowing down your cheeks, you couldn’t take it, it was just too much for you. 

Megumi glances up at you, watching you squirm and wriggle under his grip, enjoying every second of your struggle, while you felt your core tighten with every swipe of his tongue against your cunt. 

"Oh, I really fucking missed this pussy," he growls, with a grin on his lips, while all you could do was moan so desperately in return.

Your body tenses up as he flicks his tongue against your clit, and just when you thought that you were about to lose your mind, he brings a hand up to push a long digit inside of your clenching hole, sliding in a second as a response to your loud moans right after, pumping them in and out of you slowly, and stretching you out as your walls squeeze down on him. 

"Hnnngh," you whimper, everything else getting swallowed by your soaked panties. You were so close and he knew that, picking up the pace at which he was pumping his digits in and out of you, curling his fingers into your core, while his tongue was relentlessly drawing circles on your sensitive bud. 

"What was that?", he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips, "Speak up." 

You whine and squeeze your thighs together, when finally he pulls the fabric out of your mouth, a string of saliva still clinging to it as drool trickles down the corner of your mouth. 

"So nasty," he grunts, tossing your panties aside, "you’re close?" 

You nod with your eyes closed. "Mhmm," you whine, "’Gonna cum, please, make me cum." 

"Fuck, you look so hot," he groans lowly, "gonna cum for me? Go ahead, baby."

"I’ve got you, cum on my tongue." 

And just as he pushes a third finger inside you, tongue still relentlessly lapping at your wet folds, you let out a loud cry and your head falls back against the mattress. You can feel your cunt squeezing down against his fingers as your orgasm washes over you and your thighs start to shake as he pulls his fingers out, lazily rubbing your throbbing clit through your high, leaving you shuddering while seeing only stars behind your closed eyes.

It takes a while for you to come down again and you peel your eyes open to see Megumi hovering over your body, admiring the fucked out expression on your face. He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips, a small whimper falling from your mouth in return. You cup his face, almost too weak to reach your arm out for him, while he soothingly brushes his thumb over your cheek.

"Did so, so good for me, baby," he coos, you enjoy his praise, and having his warm body pressed up against you felt so familiar.

You’re too overwhelmed as you watch him pull off his briefs, the sight of his cock making you dizzy once again. It’s not like it’s the first time you see him, but every time he manages to make your mouth water just at the sight of how big he his, so big that you can already feel the sting he would cause while stretching you out.

"Tired?", he asks with a smirk on his face, and without waiting for an answer he grabs you by your hips and pulls you towards him. 

"Let me take care of that," he groans, helping you up to place a pillow underneath your hips, "Just relax for me, baby." 

Your face was still so hot, and your cheeks still flushed a deep shade of pink. Your head lolls to the side, exhaustion pulling at your heavy eyelids, as Megumi grabs your chin and turns your face towards him.

"Hey, look at me, babygirl," he chuckles, "'Wanna see your pretty face when my dick’s buried deep inside of you." 

Megumi wastes no time, smearing pre-cum that leaked from his tip along your still completely soaked cunt, and lining himself up with your entrance. You can’t do anything else than let out a helpless gasp as he presses the head of his dick into you.

"Fuck," he hisses, "'Been thinking about this since the last time I’ve got to fuck you." 

He pushes himself in slowly, the stretch of his girth still giving you a stinging sensation, even though his fingers were already trying to prepare you earlier. You can hear your own desperate whines bouncing off the walls of his bedroom, and as he grabs both of your legs to throw them over his shoulder to bottom out completely, a high-pitched moan escapes your throat.

"Fuck, y’feel so good, 'Gumi," you whine, "S-so big, stretching me out so well."

"You’re still so fucking tight," Megumi huffs, kissing your ankles while his hands grab onto your legs for support, "I won’t last long if you’re squeezing me like that, fuck."

All you could hear was the sound of his wet skin, coated in your juices, slapping against your ass, while he pushed into you, increasing his pace with every thrust, fucking you senseless. There was nothing there to muffle the lewd moans that left your lips and you were so fucked out that you didn’t care about his neighbors anymore, you weren’t even able to hold back your sounds.

He hit your cervix a few times in a row, causing you to see stars and desperately search for anything to hold on to. Those whimpers and whines that fell from your lips were in sync with his thrusts, and soon you were nothing but a crying mess beneath him.

"F-fuck, M-megumi," you sob, trying to catch your breath, your fingers digging into the sheets, "S-slow down, it’s too—nnghh." 

"Slow down?", a low groan escapes him as he rolls his hips into yours at a steady pace, "already got lost in this pussy, you better hold on tight." You look up at him, your eyebrows drawn together, and you see sweat trickling down his temples.

"Oh god," you moan out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, while he fills you all the way up with every snap of his hips against yours. You feel like losing your mind for the second time tonight, your walls clenching and throbbing around him, sucking him in so deep that you’re wondering how he’s even able to thrust in and out of you at that pace. 

"Shit," Megumi curses, and you’re so close that you nearly cum again with one harsh brush of his pelvis against your swollen clit. He had already fucked you dumb, tears stinging in your eyes and when he leaned down, pushing your legs up to your chest, you knew that he was close too. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him made him falter and he had to support himself by clutching onto the headboard, to not completely crush you while leaning onto your body. 

You can feel how your walls tighten around his length and hearing his low, breathy moans against your ear made your second orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Megumi notices how you grab tighter onto the sheets, so he moves the angle of his hips just a bit to hit your sweet spot and it immediately does it’s magic, you’re left sobbing when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

"You gonna cum with me, baby?", Megumi pants and while you’re unable to form any logical sentence, all you’re able to reply is a drawn-out moan as he pushes you over the edge a second time tonight. You feel his thrusts getting sloppier with every stroke while your second high washes over you and then he practically collapses on top of your body. His body is trembling as he releases thick ropes of his load deep into your abused pussy, and you hold him while he curses and whines 'Fuck, you feel so good' and 'Shit, I was so afraid I lost you for good this time' 

and also 'I love you so much'.

He almost crushes you with his weight as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, drowning in that afterglow. You're too exhausted to say anything, so you’re just stroking his back soothingly, listening to your heart beating in sync, while you’re coming down from your high.

After a while he slides off you, not without planting another kiss on your temple, and grabs the blanket at the foot of his bed to pull it over you both, his body pressed up against yours behind you, one arm draped over your waist. You both lie in silence for a while, just enjoying each others warmth.

"I didn’t hesitate because I missed you so much I couldn’t even think straight," you mumble, answering the question he asked you in the car earlier.

"The moment you left the room, I knew I wouldn't see you again for a while."

"You do this every time, do you know that?", you swallow when you feel him pulling you in against his chest, "You treat me like shit, then we make up and you say you’ll stay, and then you're gone."

"Y/n…" You hear his raspy voice against your hair.

"No, we have to work on this," you insist and turn around to face him, your hand placed flat against his bare chest, "I don’t wanna lose you." Your voice sounded brittle, almost fragile.

Megumi sits up again, resting his back against the headboard, while you stay in your position, scooting over to him a little bit to lean your head against his side. "I promise you we’ll work this out, y/n." You were naive enough that this was sufficient for you. After all, you had no other choice but to rely on his words.

You climb out of his bed to put on your t-shirt and search for your underwear until you remember what happened to it. How convenient that you left some clothes at his place a while ago, so you go over to his wardrobe to find something suitable. You cringe a little at the sight of the white thong embroidered with the words 'Lucky You'. 

You bought it when you were like eighteen and you have to chuckle while putting it on. Well, you weren’t so wrong back then.

Megumi looks up after hearing you giggle and you throw him a pair of grey sweatpants and his black hoodie, which he puts on, but not without taking another look at you.

"Mhmm—guess I am," he rasps, lifting the covers to motion for you to come back to him, "Come here."

You grab your phone and walk over to him, cuddling up to his warm body while turning your phone back on. You wanted to know what time it was, and you remembered turning it off earlier when Maki tried to call you. 

Your phone screen turns white before you see your lock screen, a picture of you, Maki and Nobara, and as soon as it gets a signal, several notifications pop up all at once. You had about six missed calls from Maki and Yuta, even Shoko had texted you and right at the bottom of the screen were three messages from Choso.

'Are you with him?'

'Text me if you’re alright'

'I swear to god, y/n, if he hurts you, I’m gon…'

You weren’t fast enough to hide the texts from Megumi.

I can’t be your second best Close but not your favorite I keep going back for more Where there’s nothing from before

[toothpastecanyon]

Return, to the Scene of the Crime

Playing human again, Alcor makes it longer than he usually does. He's in college now, juggling classes, family, a curious vampire, and a strange, increasingly sinister web of mysteries weaving themselves around him. Without his omniscience to guide the way, he'll have to work hard to get to the bottom of this before it spirals out of control.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

Lucy Ann was asleep when her phone rang. She grumbled and turned over, fishing in her pocket to mute it. Then it rang again, and with a heavy sigh, she cracked open an eyelid to see who it was.

“Alcor,” she muttered. “Ugh… fine, alright.”

Sitting up, she pushed the lid of the coffin open, and shielded her phone from the screams in the funeral home as she put it to her ear.

“Yeah, what?”

“Lucy Ann?”

“Yeah, it’s me, dude.” She rubbed her eyes. “What is it? Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Oh, do you want me to – I can call back-”

“What is it?”

She heard him take a deep breath, and rolled her eyes. She stood up and stretched as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

“I…” he started. “I’m going away for a while. I wanted to call you before I… I won’t be summonable, so I wanted to let you know how to, how to reach me if you need me.”

“Ah, this is one of these Noie deals, huh? Glad you’re finally giving me a heads up.”

“Yeah, I don’t – I-I know how it went last time, I don’t want that to happen again.”

Lucy Ann glanced down at the glove on her hand. He kept going.

“So I’m giving you a special circle you can use to contact me – uh, it’ll break my enchantments, so if it could be an emergencies only kind of thing…?”

“Got it.”

“Okay… yeah, thanks. And if you need to see me in person, I’ll be down in the California Isles. The family’s really nice – they, hah, they actually own a funeral home-”

“No way! In Maine?”

“In- no, California. I just told you-”

“Oh, yeah! Right.” Lucy Ann gave a little chuckle as she looked at an urn. “Sorry, I got carried away there. That would’ve been a hell of a coincidence.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it, uh,” she cleared her throat. “Okay. That sounds good. Thanks for letting me know, Al.”

“Of course. I’ll send the circle to you and then… get set up.” He seemed like he wanted to say more; after a moment, he spoke again. “So, uh, see you in a couple decades?”

“Yeah, see you then,” she said, and then grinned. “Or who knows, maybe I’ll pay a visit.”

“Pay a visit? What?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see if you loosen up a bit without that demon angst you’ve always got going on.” She heard him laugh, and gave a little chuckle herself… but soon it faded, and she cleared her throat again. “Uh, anyway, good luck with that, I guess. See you around.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.”

When Lucy Ann hung up the call, the little joke she’d made about dropping in on him had already slipped her mind. For almost twenty years she went on wandering as she always did, thinking of Alcor only rarely, wondering how he was doing. She wasn’t ever thinking of actually following through on that joke… but, you know, sometimes things don’t happen for anything as grand as fate or careful planning.

Sometimes they just fall into place.

She was bouncing around the Isles when she remembered Alcor. googled the name of that funeral home he’d given her, as she sometimes did – just to see if they were still in business, but she came across a little blog post the owners posted: ‘HE GOT INTO HONORS COLLEGE!!!’ It was a picture of Dipper with a dorky smile and a graduation cap, and she couldn’t help but snicker to herself at the glowing paragraphs his parents had posted to their business page. Jeez, he was still going, wasn’t he? She didn’t want to be rude on the phone, but she was expecting this thing to flame out early as it usually did.

So… he was just living the regular human life, huh?

Huh.

…

Lucy Ann looked around the motel room she was in, decided she didn’t have anything interesting going on, and started packing.

______________________________________________________________

“Murdered! She was murdered!”

“Dude.”

“I can’t believe it, who would do this! I just can’t-”

“Dude, Darren!” Dipper put his hands on the guy’s shoulders. “Keep your voice down. I thought you came to me because you didn’t want the RA to hear!”

Lucy Ann chuckled a bit as Darren shut his mouth. She watched Dipper walk back to the bird cage under the dorm room bed. There was a little pile of ash under the perch; opening the cage, he pinched some between his fingers.

“Look,” Dipper said. “Nobody killed your phoenix, okay? This isn’t phoenix ash.”

“Wha- what?”

“Phoenix ash is highly magical.” He brought out a little necklace tucked under his shirt; there was a dull blue glass pendant on the end of it, and nothing happened when he brought the ash to it. “See? My necklace lights up when it’s repelling magic, and it’s getting nothing here. It’s just regular ash.”

Darren sniffed and wiped his nose. “So… so Flamey’s alive?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, man, she’s alive.” He paused, meaningfully. “But… someone wanted you to think she was dead.”

Darren gasped. Lucy Ann watched with a grin as Dipper got to his feet, dusting off his hands.

“My guess is it’s some kind of prank, but it could be that someone stole your phoenix for themselves. Who else knows about Flamey?”

“I-I don’t… no one, I think!” He wrung his shirt. “I mean my dorm mate does, but he wouldn’t steal her – Alex hates living with her!”

“Hates living with her, eh?” Lucy Ann raised her eyebrows at Dipper. “Maybe it’s not been stolen to keep.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Dipper nodded to himself. Darren leaned in further.

“You think… you think Alex murdered Flamey?”

“No, I told you, no one murdered-” There was a knock at the door just then, and Dipper looked up. “Hello?”

“Uh, hello?” Said the voice. “This is my room, who’s in here?”

“That’s Alex,” Darren murmured, and then he called out: “Just some friends of mine!”

The door opened slowly, and Alex popped his head in, frowning. “Uh, okay. Hey, Darren, how long are they gonna be here? I’ve gotta study.”

“Oh, we’re just wrapping up,” Dipper said, letting what he probably thought was a very sly smile snake across his face. “But, uh… Alex, was it? I just got one question for you.”

“Uh, sure?”

“You got a lighter?”

Alex frowned. “A lighter? No.”

“Oh, okay.” Dipper glanced across the room. “That’s weird, then. You got a scented candle on your desk.”

Darren groaned. “I hate that candle, man, it smells like old people. And isn’t it, like, a fire hazard?”

“Fire hazard?” Alex crossed his arms. “Seriously, man? You’re going on about a fire hazard?”

“You don’t like that he keeps a phoenix under his bed, do you?”

Alex blinked, and then scowled at Dipper. “Yeah, duh, would you?”

“So you stole it.”

“So- wait, what? I didn’t – hey, who is this guy, Darren?”

“You stole Flamey?” Darren stared slackjawed at him. “You did, didn’t you!”

“And then you burned some paper and planted it in her cage so he’d think she was dead.” Dipper crossed his arms. “Pets aren’t allowed in the dorms, so you thought Darren wouldn’t report it to anybody. It was the perfect crime!”

“I… I…” Alex blinked a few times, then huffed and threw up his hands. “Okay, fine! I gave her to my aunt!”

“Alex!”

“And I’d do it again! You know what the real crime is? Keeping a flaming fucking bird in a tiny cage under your bed! I was doing you and her a favour!”

“I can’t believe you! You get her back, okay! You get her back or, or… or I’ll tell the RA about the candles!”

“Oh-hoh, okay, you tell them about the candles and I’ll tell them about the giant bird you had under your bed! We’ll see what they’re more interested in!”

“Flamey!”

Dipper and Lucy Ann strolled out of the dorm room together. Lucy Ann took one look at his smug face and poked him in the ribs.

“Wha- hey! What was that for?”

“If your head gets any bigger it’s not gonna fit in the doorway.” She smirked at him. “I guess you did okay, though. Quick thinking on the ash.”

“Yeah, heh…” He rubbed his side. “That was not what I expected when Darren came over. Still, that was pretty good, wasn’t it? It was like being a detective!”

“You’re a real Sherlock Holmes.”

With a laugh, Dipper unlocked his dorm, held it open for her, and followed her in. It was a tiny space, but at least it was a one-bedroom; a bunk bed slotted against one wall, and a desk was crammed against the other, leaving only a narrow walkway from the door to a tiny square of window. Dipper’s desk was covered in books and notes; his magi-orb was open but asleep, and he made his way over to wake it up.

On the way, he got a little tangled with the sleeping bag on the floor – more accurately, this used to be a one-bedroom. Lucy Ann snorted.

“Hey, you’re stepping on my pillows!”

“Oops, sorry.” He watched her lounge out on the floor with a raised eyebrow. “You know, you sure you still want to stay here?”

“Yup.” She picked up a book beside her bed, and glanced over at him. “What, you tired of me?”

“No, no! I just – I mean, it’s been so cool to meet the real Lucy Ann, but I still don’t get why you’ve decided to hang around me.” He watched her face twist into a knowing grin, and rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna tell me why, are you.”

She just winked at that, and buried her head in her book. Shaking his head, he turned back to his magi-orb and tapped it a few times; it flared to life, and Dipper’s necklace gave off a soft blue glow as he started scrolling. A news article popped up, and he clicked on it.

“Huh.” He said to himself. “Hey, you remember that jewellery store robbery last week?”

“No.”

“It was that one super close to campus – we got alerts about it.”

She just shrugged, so he started reading off the article.

“Suspect in jewellery store stick up still at large after mysterious disappearance, magical influence suspected.” His eyes skipped further down. “Oh, nice, looks like the guy he shot got out of the hospital today.”

“Good for him.”

“Mysterious disappearance… they say he went into a back room away from the cameras and just disappeared. No windows in the room either, isn’t that weird?”

Finally, Lucy Ann glanced up from her book and gave him an odd look. “Yeah, I guess it’s weird. Why, you wanna rob a jewellery store or something? It’s not as fun as it sounds.”

“No, I’m just… how did he disappear like that?” He sat back in his chair, stroking his chin. “I mean, locked room, no windows-”

Lucy Ann let out the biggest groan. “Oh, no. You call a guy Sherlock once and he becomes insufferable – if you start reading every random crime report to me I really will leave, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up. “Sheesh. I just thought it was a cool mystery. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“I’m not biting your head off, I’m just saying that’s cop shit.” She flashed a fanged grin at him. “Come on, your life’s too short to care who makes off with some pretty rocks or whatever. The world’s full of way more interesting mysteries than that.”

“Hm.” He sat there for a second, and then reached out and closed the news article. “I guess you’re right.”

She watched him sit back, and sat up. “Hey, you wanna do something tonight?”

“Huh?”

“You know, go out somewhere. I saw this thing the other day for an escape room – you ever done one of those?”

“I haven’t. That sounds cool, but…”

“You gotta study?”

“Ahh,” he checked his phone. “Actually, Mom texted, asked if I could drop some groceries off at home tonight. I’ll probably stay for dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” Lucy Ann sat back and picked up her book again. “Sounds good.”

______________________________________________________________

Quicksilver Funeral Home & Crematory was on the southernmost tip of the New Fresno Peninsula, about a fifty minute’s drive from Dipper’s university. It was, politely, in the middle of nowhere; Dipper always smiled when he remembered the long, lazy days he spent in the forests behind his house… just as much as he’d remember the long drive to school, the friends he could never casually invite over. As remote as it was, though, his dad always liked to remind him that at least they were on the mainland.

“Oh, we’re hardly in the middle of nowhere, son. If you wanna see the middle of nowhere, take a skylift out to one of those floating islands down south. Poor saps are so remote their dead get brought to us in helicopters!”

It was, if not a convincing argument, a very illustrative one. Dipper thought of his dad’s voice as he pulled up the driveway, and a little grimace tugged his lips down. He turned off his car, glanced at the groceries on the seat next to him, and sighed.

Then he sat up, opened the door, and got out. Picking up the groceries, he made his way to the side entrance and rang the doorbell. There was a muffled, “I got it,” and footsteps up to the door.

It unlatched, swung open, and revealed his sister in the doorway. Mallory nodded at him.

“Hey,” she said, and stepped aside to let him in. He smiled at her.

“Hey, Mal. Got the groceries!”

“I see that. Need a hand?”

“No, I got it, thanks.” He headed down the hallway into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom! That smells great!”

“Dipper!” His Mom looked up from a pot of bubbling soup; her face creased into a smile, and she gave him a big hug. “It’s so great to see you, honey!”

“It’s great to see you too – oh, watch out, eggs!” He put the bags on the counter before hugging back. “How’ve you been? Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in the living room with Mallory – I can put all this away if you wanna see him!”

“You sure?”

“Of course! He’ll be delighted to see you!”

The living room was just around the corner; Dipper hesitated for a second before walking in.

“Hey, Dad.”

His Dad was sitting back in his favourite green armchair, and for a second Dipper could just pretend he’d fallen asleep in it as he loved to do, and him and Mallory were two giggling kids about to balance as many toys as they could on his body until he finally woke up, made a show of stretching and going, “Whoa, what’s all this!” as they both shrieked with laughter. He could see it so clearly… but then there was the bed behind him, hastily dragged down the stairs into the living room, and the hospital wheelchair at the foot of it. His Dad’s eyes were closed, but they were struggling to open; his head fell to the side, and he gave a lopsided smile, a weak wave. Dipper waved back, and then he moved in closer to give him a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He said, squeezing carefully, and then standing up. Mallory put a hand on his shoulder; he glanced at her. “How’s he… I-I mean, how’re you doing, Dad?”

There was a pause, and then his hand flopped very deliberately to the side, as if to say, “How do you think?” His eyebrow quirked up too, and Dipper gave a little laugh.

“Yeah, hah, makes, makes sense.”

“We’ve been doing some exercises,” Mallory said; she turned on the TV, picked up a foam ball, and gently opened their Dad’s hand to place it in. “Do you know there’s one where you’re supposed to crumple up a sheet of paper? That’s been my favourite.”

“Hah, really?” He looked towards the bin, which was overflowing with tightly-crumpled balls of notepaper. “Hey, he’s doing really well on that one!”

Mallory didn’t respond; she shrugged obliquely, and then crushed a sheet of paper between her hands. His smile turned awkward.

“Oh, uh…” He rubbed his neck. “So! What are we watching?”

Dinner was ready soon. Dipper helped his Dad into the wheelchair, and Mallory guided him into the dining room. Their Mom had set out plates; they all took a seat, Mallory next to her Dad. Dipper watched him pick up a spoon with a shaking hand and dip it into the soup.

“So how’re classes going, honey?”

“Huh?” Dipper blinked, and looked to his Mom. “Oh! Um, they’re going good… yeah, good.”

“That’s good.” She smiled. “Midterms are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!”

“Ooh, how’re you feeling about that?”

“Pretty, pretty prepared, I think!” He grinned. “And then it’ll be winter break soon! I can come back home for Christmas.”

“That’ll be great, honey! We’ve missed having you around. And you know, we could use a little help around the-”

“I’m doing the best I can.”

Mallory’s voice cut her right off. She saw them both stare at her, and narrowed her eyes.

“What? I just said I’m doing the best I can.” She glared at their Mom. “You’re talking like I’m not doing anything around here, I just wanted to say I am doing stuff, okay?”

“I didn’t say that, honey, we really appreciate-”

“I know, I’m just saying-”

“-could help take some things off your plate-”

“I was just saying-!” Mallory stopped and put up her hands. “You know what, forget I said anything.”

“Honey-”

“I said forget it, Mom.”

“But-”

“Forget it, okay? I don’t want to do this again.”

The room froze into a tense silence. Dipper glanced nervously between the two of them, and took a long drink of water. There was a grunting sound from across the table; their Dad was pointing at something.

“Dad?” Dipper blinked. “What do you-”

“He wants the salt.” Mallory rubbed her forehead. “Dad, I told you, you’re not supposed to have too much-”

“Oh, just give him the salt, dear.”

Mallory froze. She looked up at their Mom, grabbed the salt, and slammed it down on the table next to their Dad before getting up and walking away. A door shut hard down the hallway; their Mom gave Dipper a tight smile.

“Sorry, honey.” She said. “She’s not… she’s finding this all a bit hard to adjust to. But she’s really happy to see you!”

“Yeah…” Dipper looked down at the soup. He half stood up; then looked at her. “Can I…?”

“Oh, of course! She’s probably in the crematorium.”

Dipper nodded, and followed after her. There was a door by the stairs that opened into the main foyer of the funeral home; he passed by the front desk, by an empty viewing room filled with chairs, up to a door tucked away in the back with a very clear ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign. Through there was the crematorium: its concrete floors, stainless steel gurneys, and safety tape stood in stark, clinical contrast to the rest of the building, but Dipper had long since gotten used to this place. The shining metal cremation machine dominated the middle of the space, and though it wasn’t on, there was a whirring sound behind it. Dipper walked past a row of body freezers set into the wall to find Mallory.

“Uh, hey,” he said. She was standing arms crossed in front of a little glass kiln, and didn’t look up at his voice. He hung back, a nervous smile on his face. “Mal? Are you okay?”

Mallory raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Doing great.”

“Mal-”

“You want a plate?” She sifted through a little pile of things next to the kiln. “I was saving this for you – here.”

She held out a small, multicoloured glass plate. Dipper blinked as he took it from her; he held it up to the light, and marvelled at the colours splashing on the side of his hand. “Wow, this is really pretty! Is this enchanted too?”

The slight smile on Mallory’s face vanished. “No, it’s just a plate. Why would I enchant a plate?”

“Oh, I just-”

“Your necklace was a lot of work, you know. I don’t do that for every single thing I make! Sometimes I just want to make a fucking plate, okay?”

“Okay, sorry!” He watched her turn away. “Mal, I’m sorry! I didn’t- it’s really good, thank you!”

“Oh, I don’t know, you sure you don’t want me to melt it down and put an enchantment on it first?”

“No, no…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Mal, that was really dumb of me. I really like the plate, okay? Thank you for giving it to me.”

“Hm.” She stayed like that for a second, then looked back and grinned at him. “You’re welcome, dummy. I’m glad you like it.”

He grinned back. “I do, it’s really beautiful! How’d you get all the colours like that? I’ve never seen something like this from you.”

“Huh, that? Oh, I started buying this coloured glass scrap.” She opened a drawer; in it was a box full of big and small shards of coloured glass. “You can get it in bulk for super cheap – nobody gave me a scholarship for this, so I make do.”

Another sharp remark – Dipper cringed again. “Mal?” He asked, and she started picking through the shards. “Are you… is everything okay?”

“No, obviously, everything’s not okay.” She took a look at his expression and rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s not- I’ll survive. It’s fine.”

“Mal…”

“It’s hard on us all right now, okay?” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that with Mom over dinner. She’s just been – just been getting on my nerves lately, you know?” She picked up a blue shard, and looked through it. “Just on and on about how I’m so good with the families, I should totally take over!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Oh, god, yeah.”

“She even found a mortuary sciences course at my college, just tried to ‘casually’ bring it up to me the other day.” A chuckle. “You know how she acts when she thinks she’s being subtle.”

“Heh, yeah… how’s your classes going?”

“I withdrew this semester.”

“Oh… Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” He watched her pause, staring into the middle distance. He stepped a little closer. “You know, Mom and Dad always said they only wanted us to take over if we wanted to. I don’t think she’d want you to feel obligated.”

“Yeah, but I am obligated, aren’t I?” She glared at him. “What are they gonna do now if I leave? Mom can't run this whole place on her own.”

“They always said they’d hire-”

“Hire someone else, yeah, like they can afford that right now.” Rolling her eyes, she pushed off the counter and started pacing. “And they can’t sell the place either – where’s Mom gonna find another job? No, unless Dad gets better fast, I’m stuck here.”

“You’re not-” Dipper struggled for words. “You don’t have to… it’s not your responsibility. They wouldn’t want you to feel like this.”

“Oh, okay then.” She stopped, and looked straight at him. “So how about I leave, and you come back home to take care of Dad. How’s that sound?”

Dipper blinked. “I…” he started, and frowned as she flashed a grin. “Hey, come on, Mal, that’s not… You’re not being fair.”

She scoffed at that, and crossed her arms.

“Mal-”

“I’m not actually asking you to do that – obviously. But it’s you or me, okay? And if it’s gonna be me, can you stop acting like I could just walk away from them?”

Dipper hesitated, and then he sighed. “You’re… you’re right. I’m sorry. That sounds really hard.”

“Thank you,” she rubbed her eyes. “Look, how about you just go back to dinner?”

“What? What about you?”

“I’ll be out in a bit, I just…” She looked back at the shards she’d taken out, picked one up, and tossed it back into the drawer. “I just need to cool off.”

“Wh… you sure? I can stay here if you-”

“It’s fine.” Glancing back at him, she managed a smile. “It’s fine, okay? I’ll be out soon.”

Dipper lingered for a second longer, and then, with a sigh, he turned and made for the door. One last glance over the shoulder showed how he left her: a small figure hunched over a desk, disappearing behind the machinery.

He opened the door, and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

“You’re back late,” Lucy Ann said as he made his way into his dorm the next morning. “I thought you were only staying for dinner?”

“Yeah… I was just, I was trying to be helpful.” He closed the door, and leaned against it for a second. “It’s just… it’s like… do you think I’m…?”

Lucy Ann watched him for a moment, her eyebrow slowly arching. “Do I think you’re what?”

“It’s… nevermind.” With a sigh, he went to his desk and tapped his magi-orb. “I’m only here to pick up some stuff for class. Are you coming?”

“Depends, what you got on?”

“Uh… public speaking’s first – shoot, my presentation’s today!”

With a cackle she hopped to her feet. “Oh, I’m definitely coming for that one!”

Dipper shook his head at her, but before he could reply, there came a knock at the door. Lucy Ann groaned.

“Shit, is that the RA?”

“I’ll see… uh, hello? Who is it?”

“Dude, it’s Darren!”

“Oh, thank the stars.” She dropped her sleeping bag. “I didn’t want to have to hide again.”

Dipper frowned as he opened the door. “Darren? What’s up?”

“Hey, dude!” Darren looked a little out of breath, but he perked up at the sight of him. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the other day – thanks for finding Flamey for me! Alex drove me over and-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” Dipper started to close the door. “Look, I gotta get to class-”

“Oh, wait! That wasn’t what I came over for!”

“Huh?”

“I was telling my buddy Marsh about how you found her the other day – and you know, Alex’s aunt, she actually has a whole aviary, it’s amazing! She has so much room to fly around-”

“Darren…”

“Right, right! So I was telling Marsh about how crazy it was when you put all the clues together, and he was saying he could use your help!”

Lucy Ann snorted. “Congrats, on the new job, Dipper. Campus animal control.”

“I don’t-” Dipper looked from her to Darren. “I don’t know, man. What’s the problem?”

“It was something about a weird ghost in his apartment… I-I don’t remember exactly, but I said I’d give you his number and he could tell you about it!”

“A ghost?” Dipper blinked. He opened the door a little wider. “Huh… Uh, yeah, what’s his number? I gotta go… like right now, but I can call him after class! What was his name, Marsh?”

Behind them, Lucy Ann shook her head. She wanted to know what he was like without demon powers?

It turns out he wasn’t so different – he could still be such a dork.

[featherandferns]

guilty as sin : where are they now?

jj maybank x routledge!fem!reader

word count: 700

read guilty as sin (part 1) | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…

Raleigh airport was rather slow paced compared to Denver. People moved with minimal urgency and staff didn’t feel the need to yell at half-asleep passengers at three in the morning at TSA. It didn’t feel all that long ago that you were here last, but as a person, you feel years older. Your eyes stay steady on JJ, who’s wandered up to a departures board and is studying it intently. He turns around, half-smiles, and walks back over to you, hands in his pockets. 

“A’right,” he says once he’s near. “Says Gate B21. They ain’t boarding yet but…”

“I should probably go through soon,” you mumble, finishing his sentence for him. You purse your lips and look at the TSA queue. It’s not very long. Sensing your hesitance, JJ runs a hand down your arm, guiding your attention back to him. There’s a queasy smile on his face. It’s reassuring but also somewhat reluctant. 

“I’ll see you soon,” JJ says, “just two weeks.”

“In hell,” you mutter. 

Chuckling shortly, JJ shrugs. “Yeah, well, two weeks for a life in Kildare. A deal’s a deal.”

“True,” you sigh. “Just kinda wish you could come with.”

“Same.”

The PSA announcement for a different flight serves well as a prompt to go through TSA. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Besides, JJ was right: only two weeks. You had your bag full of ever growing art supplies, including the paints from JJ, to keep distracted. Your mom had “requested” you return to Colorado at least three times a year, one of which being for one of the holidays. It was finally time to hold up your end of the deal. 

“Well, guess I’ll see you later,” you say, smiling up at him. 

JJ dips his head and plants a kiss to your lips. It’s short and fleeting, but stings just as much knowing that you won’t feel it for two weeks. It’s a tough pill to swallow after being attached at the hip for the past three months. 

“See you around, Little Routledge,” JJ tries to joke.

He picks up your carry on and hands it to you, and you begin to walk towards the TSA line. You turn one last time to give him a wave and JJ waves back, smiling that same smile from before. Two weeks, you tell yourself. Two weeks of your mother’s prying questions and her boyfriend’s abusive arrogance. Your friends from Colorado made you somewhat excited to return. They’d been making plans since you said you were coming back to visit, including a three-day stay at a campsite by the lakes, which already granted you some escape. Besides, you knew this time that you were coming back to Kildare. More importantly, you knew you were coming back to JJ. With that final reminder, you pass through security and venture to your gate. As promised, you drop JJ a text when you board and another just before you take off, switching to aeroplane mode. 

About an hour into your flight, you decide to dig through your backpack to retrieve your smallest palette of paints. The pocket sized sketchbook you pull out serves almost as a journal for Kildare, keeping track of the houses, the stores, the beaches and the marshes. Littered amongst the scenery are sketches and paintings of your friends and, of course, JJ. There’s a couple of pages littered with JJ’s doodles too. Cartoonish things, one of which is you circled in a love heart. It’s purposefully sappy and sweet, and it makes you smile every time you flip through that page. Just before the next blank page, something catches your eye. A short note that you didn’t write. You recognise the hand though. It’s JJ. 

Little Routledge

I’m not good at writing letters so I’ll keep it brief. I miss you and can’t wait for you to come back home. Stay safe in Colorado and call whenever you need. Happy Thanksgiving. 

Love JJ

You smile to yourself. It’s nothing that Shakespeare might envy but you know JJ isn’t the sort to write letters or leave love-notes. These few lines mean the world and more. You’re careful not to mark the page as you begin to sketch on the opposite side of the book. Today’s drawing? Of JJ, just moments before, as you recalled him in the airport, waving goodbye (for now). 

[donghyckl]

✧.* TINDER TENDER - p. sunghoon smau

synopsis : park sunghoon, a well known young CEO in fashion industry,infamous for his scandalous dating rumours. but, those rumours stopped as soon as he got kicked off to the US and after years he finally returned to South Korea for a fresh start

or one day, his sneaky self decided to download tinder because he claimed he hasn’t feel the touch of a woman for years and met you, who happens to be the daughter of his father’s best friend and let’s say… his pull out game was weak

pairing : ceo! sunghoon x fem! reader

genre : social media au, super angst, fluff, smut, strangers to…?

warnings : smut in chapters ( will give warning ) , very suggestive and swearing

start date : 15.07.23

end date : TBA

taglist : send an ask/comment ! only 18+ will be added ( will check blog )

update time : TBA

author’s note : this is my first time writing smau so please be nice 😞🙏🏻 i’m super excited to write one to fulfill my ceo sunghoon thoughts !! feel free to send me your thoughts on my smau <3

ೃ⁀➷ profiles : the line haters the trio girls

ೃ⁀➷ chapters :

guess who’s back !!

girl hit the jackpot

[the-himawari]

A3! Outing Event Translation - You're my first and last love. (8/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Sakyo: —Everyone’s here now. Alright, let’s start our planning meeting over again. We’re at the stage to start finalizin’ our plan now… anyone got any ideas?

Masumi: …I do.

Sakyo: What is it?

Masumi: …I’d like to do a play.

Sakyo: …

Masumi: …

Sakuya: So you see, I thought about it with him and realized that if we’re considering our fans, then a play is the way to go!

Misumi: I agree! If it’s something we have fun doing, then I’m sure our fans will feel the same way!

Azami: We don’t have much time to prepare, but I’ll take care of the makeup. We’ve done the Mankai Show before, so it’s nothin’ I can’t handle.

Masumi: The other day, you said that my idea was probably something I wanted to do for Director. That was true. The reason I want to do a play is for Director—. But I think I can return my feelings of gratitude to everyone else through my acting which I encountered because of her.

Sakyo: …*Sigh*, as expected.

Troupe members: Huh?

Sakyo: I never said plays weren’t allowed. It’s just that considering the venue and the prep time, we can’t do it the same way as usual. Even so, all the other teams keep sayin’ they wanna do a play too.

Hisoka: Oh really?

Sakyo: Yeah. …At the end of the day, everyone kept sayin’ they love acting. When I told Director, she laughed and said she felt the same way.

Masumi: (…She laughed and said she felt the same way? Then that means back then—.) (…Thank goodness.)

Sakuya: So you mean…!

Sakyo: Right. If it’s MANKAI Company's consensus, then we have no choice but to go for it.

Misumi: Great news! Right, Masumi!

Masumi: Hey! Don’t hug me. It hurts.

Sakyo: …I had a hunch Usui was worried about somethin’. It looks like he was finally able to spit out what he wants to do.

Azami: So he was actually just waitin’ for us to say what he wanted to hear?

Masumi: …Damn him.

Sakyo: What’d you say?

Sakuya: A-Anyways! Now that we’ve decided which direction to go, let’s proceed with our discussion!

Sakyo: Yeah, good idea.

Hisoka: …That’s great, Masumi.

Masumi: …Yeah.

Azami: Guess we gotta let the other teams know.

Misumi: I’m sure everyone’s gonna be glad to hear it.

Masumi: That being said, there’s one more thing I’d like to do.

Sakyo: …?

-pause-

Izumi: …There. It looks like the costumes are good to go. How’s it going over there, Masumi-kun?

Masumi: I’ve gathered all the props.

Izumi: Great. It looks like we’re going to make it in time. By the way. You sure have grown, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Huh?

Izumi: When we were approached for this White Day event, you were the one who suggested the idea of a thank you event, weren't you?

Masumi: No, well. Sakuya was the one who said he wanted to do it first…

Izumi: That might be true, but you were the one who spoke up about actually going for it. If it were you from the past, then I don’t think you would’ve jumped into action that quickly just because someone else said they wanted to do something.

Masumi: …There's just one thing that will never change though. My primary motivation is all for you.

Izumi: That part of you sure doesn’t waver. But that’s just like you, isn’t it?

Masumi: … (There’s a lot of reasons why I put in so much effort this time. But I'm sure that I couldn’t have tried so hard if it wasn’t for Director.) (That’s why I want to return the favour to you on White Day.) (I’m always receiving so many things. Our upcoming play is just another example.)

Izumi: …I guess this is all we need. Alright. Let’s get going, shall we?

Masumi: You don’t have to carry anything. I’ll take everything over.

Izumi: Hold on now, this is a lot of stuff!

Masumi: (That’s why I’m going to load my feeling for you into my acting again this time.) (One day, I hope these feelings will be conveyed to you. That’s what I’m wishing for.)

---

previous | next

[calibabii21]

|| Isn't The Sky Beautiful? || k.dy

pairing: model!Doyoung x stylist!reader

genre: smut, mature *mdni*

warning(s): fingering, choking, unprotected sex, squirting, pet names (ie: angel, princess, bunny, pup), singular use of "daddy", dumbification, kinda mean Doyoung, dom!Doyoung, sub!reader, bitchy reader, sexual frustration, shenanigans all around

wc: *roughly* 2.9k

a/n: some sort of continuation of work your magic. @tinypink-macaron hopefully this helps you feel better🫶🏾

disclaimer: there's no official mention of a safe word, but the predetermined safe word that will be universally used- for fics and just on the blog in general (regarding emergencies) is lighthouse.

"Ah. You guys I have to go soon." You exit the Instagram app with a sigh and toss your phone on the bed. It wasn't fair. Simply sitting there talking to a phone, yet looking so damn handsome.

Your low grumbling continues as you look through your suitcase, pulling out your black velvet silver shimmer gown for tonight's red carpet event. You'd gotten a natural face with heavy smokey eye look done earlier in the day. Who knew Milan would be the place for a 12 hour lasting beat. "Wait.." you shake you head chuckling to yourself nevermind, that was dumb.

On your way out of the door, it crosses your mind to make a quick post of your final look, but you decide against it. Whoever wanted to see you would just have to wait. Suppose it was more you trying to convince yourself than genuinely play hard to get. "Lord give me strength," you pray as the door closes behind you.

If you were given a dollar for every compliment you've received tonight- well, you wouldn't be rich, but, you wouldn't complain either. Not mention how hard you had to refrain from fangirling when Luke Hemmings greeted you with a DOUBLE cheek kiss and called you stunning. Nothing could top that. Except-

"Why are you avoiding me?" a voice startles you out of taking in the leopard print decorated room. "What reason would I have to be avoiding you," your aggressive defense has you internally wincing. "That's exactly my question," there's a hint amusement in his tone, "you look good."

Finally you bring yourself to look at him, his princely appearance far more fitting for the throne he sits on than you anticipated. Immediately your eyes narrow, "fuck he's so handsome." A bashful smile spreads across his lips, "thank you," now realizing you'd spoken your thoughts aloud, you turn away from him with a scowl. "Well, I should get going.."

Soft, manicured fingers grasp your wrist, pausing you, "did....have I done something?" You feel a little guilty for treating him this way, "not at all." Which wasn't a lie, but your unenthusiastic reassurance made him falter and release you before walking away without another word. Guess this night is over.

By the time it's almost midnight, you're out of your heels and eagerly heading to soak in your suite's spacious garden tub. As you're grabbing the last of your things to head into the bathroom, there's a knock at your door.

Your breath hitches when you see the man casually leaning against the hall wall, playing with the ring on his index finger. "Doyoung?" what is he doing here? You're certain the confusion is plastered on your face, yet he silently shows himself inside, inspecting the room as he paces. There's nothing for you to say as you drink in his well-cinched waist covered only by an onyx-rhinestone detailed blazer. Still, neither of you say anything, you observing him inspecting your suite.

"They told me to return my suit to you." Finally, an explanation. It still doesn't make sense. "To me? Okay, but..you still have it on..." your thoughts slowly gather together as he begins to circle you, "it could have been dropped off in the morning."

You can feel it. Something is going to happen. "I could have," he says open-endedly, as if sarcastically considering the seemingly absurd idea. "but then I wouldn't get a chance to handle you." An immediate scoff escapes as you feel slightly offended, "handle, me? What the fuck does that even mean??"

It is already ridiculous to think about, but to say something so.. outdated to your face? Only now do you notice that he has removed his blazer, exposing his taut torso to you. "You know, you've had the shittiest attitude since that day." You don't even have the chance to rebuttal because he's speaking again, "What? having my dick in your mouth wasn't enough?"

Stunned can't even describe your current state- not to mention aroused beyond belief. Face to face with him, you can't bring yourself to speak. "Can't speak?" your chin is grasped between his thumb and forefinger, "why have you been so mean to me baby?" You can feel your tough facade breaking "I..it's embarrassing.." he furrows his brows, "it can't be that bad."

A pregnant pause lingers as you gather the courage to fess up, "Fine.. I was upset because...you're too damn attractive and seeing all the comments on your posts and lives bothered me.." You can't even look away to hide your shame because he tightens his grip on your chin as he processes your words.

You can feel yourself overheating under the robe due to the intense embarrassment you feel. Unexpectedly, boisterous laughter erupts, startling you, "That's your reason for avoiding me? That's so fucking stupid." With the way he's doubled over, it must be really fucking funny.

He's suddenly standing upright, centimeters from your face "you're damn right it's fucking funny." oh shit, you did it again. "I've been racking my brain trying to figure what I did- turns out you were just too jealous of my fans to have a proper conversation with me."

His voice becomes soft spoken as his right hand caresses your cheek, "if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask," your lashes can't help but flutter as your lips brush one another's. Kisses planted on each cheek to emphasize his words, "if you want," kiss, "my cock," kiss. "all you have to do," forehead kiss, "is ask." The words whispered so lightly against your lips you can't help the moan that slips.

"But you didn't." He pulls away from you and looks at you with mock disappointment. "Closed mouths don't get fed, Angel." Your eyes are quite literally glossing over from the overwhelming want you have for this man. "What do you want?" He's stalking toward you, backing you until the back of your legs make contact with the mattress. Again, silence. Afraid that if you speak, sobs will come out.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" It's rhetorical, yet you find yourself nodding. There's nowhere to go as he hovers over your seated body. "Look at me, Angel," his hand is at the side of your neck, feeling your pulse race as you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. His beautiful, sparkling eyes.

"You want me to make you my pretty little bitch?" Instantly you're whimpering and tears are welling in your eyes again. "Ohh. You like it when I call you that hm? My pretty. little. bitch." As if seeing you further in a new light, Doyoung looks at you with an enamored smile. "Open your mouth, baby." You part your lips enough to fully extend your tongue. "Swallow it all, like a good little slut." Your eyes close as you whimper blissfully, swallowing his saliva with your own.

It's known to you that you aren't into pet play, however, you find yourself eager to please him like an obedient puppy. "Please, fuck me," you whisper with such a sinful innocence it almost makes him lose his composure and take you right then and there. "Not quite yet sweetheart." Then he's walking across the room, back over to his blazer, re-placing it back on his body, "you go ahead and take your bath. I'll see you in the morning." And just like that, he's gone.

He said he'd see you in the morning, but he had you all the way fucked up if he thought you were dragging this out any longer. After thirty minutes of the most frustrating bath you've ever taken, you're marching to his hotel room and banging on the door. By the time he opens the door, you're seething, "how dare you-" before you could even finish, he's yanked you into his room and pinned you against the door.

"How dare I? How dare you." You're sputtering and blinking at the sudden change in roles, his half naked body short-circuiting your brain, "w-what do you mean?" He scoffs with a chuckle as he looks you up and down. "You come banging on my door- at nearly one in the morning, mind you- covered in only this tempting robe, your freshly bathed skin gleaming at me-" his hand beside your head curls into a fist as if to instill restraint. "Missed my touch that much, did you?" he says more to himself than you.

"Is this what you came here for?" he's now lowered the tone of his voice. "Did you come to seduce me?" his featherlight traces from your neck to the collar of your robe leave goosebumps on your skin as he begins removing the thick article of cloth. "Did you come here, knowing, I would fuck you properly? Put you in your place?"

It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and suck him dry. "Answer me, Princess." You knew he wouldn't let you anyway, that's too undeserving a reward. The silence must have gone on too long because, next thing you know, he's guiding you to the couch by the nape of your neck forcing you bent over the arm.

His crotch is flush against your lace clad sex, hands massaging your ass before landing a harsh slap making you jolt forward. "I don't take too kindly to being ignored." You notice, not only the bite in his tone, but his lack of use of a pet name. "I'm sor-RY" your pitch hikes at the sudden sharp stinging of his palm on your skin, "I don't want any apologies. I only want to hear 'yes sir's' and 'thank you's' from you."

You've never seen this side of him, but you can't deny that you are enjoying it. "Y-Yes sir." If you were looking to be praised for your obedience, it unfortunately never came. Not a sound comes out of your mouth as he continues kneading your flesh. It isn't until you feel his breath against your core that you become fidgety, squeezing your thighs together.

"Oh, is this where you want me, Beautiful?" you wordlessly nod as his fingers trace the outline of your lips, "I need words, Gorgeous." Searching your brain for words you move your hips closer to his face "yes, please sir." He gives your ass a pat of praise at your obedience and hooks his index finger onto your panties to pull them aside, "mmm," you hear him taking in the scent of your arousal, "look how pretty and puffy your pussy is," he slips his first and second digits into your slit, "glistening just for me isn't it?"

His tone, so soft and condescending, paired with his long, slender fingers has you tensing with anticipation of climax. "Already? I've barely gotten started baby." As if emphasizing his statement, he plants an open mouthed kiss on your clit, immediately sucking it into his mouth. "Oh fUCK" you grind your heat back onto his face, "fuck fuck fuck, don't stop," your demand makes him increase the speed of his fingers.

"Aww, look at the desperate bunny thinking she's in charge." You let out an incoherent whine as you feel the pressure building in your tummy. "please please please can I cum?" He expresses his satisfaction with your response by rapidly lapping at your clit, "of course you're gonna cum baby, and you're not going to stop until I tell you."

His fingers curl inside of you and you're tipping over the edge- rising on your toes, nails digging into the couch cushions. "Breathe." it isn't until the firm command and a strong smack to your ass that you inhale deeply. "Oh fuck, I'm-" "Again." And you do. The orgasm becoming so intense as he removes his fingers from inside you, and rips your thong before using your slick to swiftly rub your clit. "come on, Angel, ride it out."

The high pitched sounds coming from you are unrecognizable to your own ears. You soon find out why as liquid spurts out of you and coats Doyoung's satin boxers. "Ohhohoho baby. Look at what a mess you're making." But you're too busy muttering thank you's for it to register in your mind, even when you see said puddle as you are guided to and shoved back onto the queen sized mattress.

Everything is happening in slow motion, but you're snapped out of it the minute you blink and see a fully nude Doyoung. Your eyes are zoned in on his beautiful cock- tip gleaming with precum, before letting them trail up his torso to meet his heady gaze. "God, you're such a fucking tease." He climbs onto the bed, hovering, drinking in the visual of you.

"You look so gorgeous, legs all spread and patiently waiting for me," can't help but beam and spread your legs wider at such high praise. "And I know you'll take my cock so well, won't you?" "Yes, daddy," you whimper and nod as he aligns himself with your entrance, his girth stretching you the perfect amount, "Ohh fuck, Jesus, it's like your body was made just for me."

His thrusts start off slow as to allow you a chance to adjust, but also to save him from premature nut. "Fuck, baby, you gonna cum already?" You nod as your brows furrow, "mhmm." He speeds up his hips, thrusting them in a 'J' motion that has the tip of his length continuously press against a spot within you that no later has you spasming and moaning uncontrollably.

A hand semi-tightly enwraps your throat, "F-F-Fuuuuucckkk," you drag out as your mouth drops open and your tongue naturally lolls out. "Look at my little cock-drunk princess. So dumb and fucked out, and it's only the third orgasm," he punctuates his mean words by allowing a dribble of saliva to run from his mouth, to yours. "Such a dirty little angel, squeezing around me at such filth." But that only makes you squeeze his dick more, nails digging into the flesh of his tight back.

You can feel him getting closer to his high when his thrusts become more powerful, "Princess, I'm so close," a warning or simple declaration you do not know, but you're relieved you're not the only one near climax. "Shit- fuck baby, your greedy cunt is milking me so much." The feeling of his hot cum releasing inside of you has your own juices spouting out as he bottoms out. "I knew you could take me well," but your eyes are fluttering closed as you're catching your breath.

By daybreak, you're unsure of if you passed out from exhaustion, or the intensity of your final orgasm. You feel a little sore, but your spirits are higher than you'd ever thought possible. A chuckle can't help but leave you, not me being dickmatized after one fuck. Hopefully the man doesn't mind.

Speaking of- you look around the room to see him nowhere to be found. putting on the zebra print robe you see lying around, you search throughout the room to find him out on the balcony. "Good mor-" you immediately slap a hand over your mouth when you see he's in the middle of an Instagram live. "Have any of you ever been to Milan?" he's addressing his fans, but he's looking at you, "everything here is so gorgeous."

His eyes smile as he looks you over and discreetly beckons you over. The exaggerated shake of your head has him rolling his eyes. He motions for you to crawl under the table. You look at him skeptically before throwing caution to the wind and getting on your knees beneath the transparent table.

Without any further acknowledgment from him, you- as quietly as possible, undo his pants button and zipper. It is as hard as it sounds. Both his dick and not getting caught. You release his hardness from its confines and bring it to your lips. His sharp intake of breath and attempt at covering his groan that was so clearly heard boosts your ego a bit. It is now your mission to make him slip up on live, so you waste no time taking him into your mouth and giving him slow, strong sucks as one of your hands gently fondles with his scrotum.

"Ah, 난 좆됐어" you understand that as a swear word and give yourself internal praise. He brings one of his hands underneath the table and pushes the back of your head so that you take him in deeper, "Mmm-" almost lost in the pleasure he snaps himself back to reality and reads the comments. "I look blissful? Haha, thank you?" He must be close with the way looks down at you with a quick lip bite as you deep-throat him. His hand now holding you against him as he releases down your throat.

Although his deep breaths prevent him from making noise, his head still rolls back to rest against the railing as he chants and praises you in his mind. "Dear Jesus, give me strength," he whispers a prayer to himself before sitting back upright caressing your cheek as he reads the incoming comments, "am I in pain? No, I am quite..satisfied," his innuendo is nowhere near subtle, but his fans seem to eat it all up. "Isn't the sky beautiful?"

*mdni banner made by @cafekitsune*

[koiiiji]

I'm spamming cuz u said spam me soo.. pls do windbreaker wooin x reader

doing nails with Wooin...

author’s note ; ahhh!! again so sorry for such long respond!! again drafts from 2022🥳

author’s note 2 ; please no spam likes, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!

tw ; fluff, can be platonic or romantic, as you will interpret it😌

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈౨ৎ┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

sunlight streamed through the freshly cleaned windows, casting soft, warm light on the pristine apartment. it was saturday afternoon, and everything had fallen into place. you stirred in your bed, the smooth new linen cool against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth of your body. the faint scent of lavender from yesterday’s deep cleaning still lingered in the air. there was something so comforting about waking up to a space that was clean, organized, and entirely yours.

you stretched, feeling the remnants of sleep slip away, and smiled to yourself. unhurried weekend was still stretching ahead of you. your head felt clear and unburdened — a reflection of the tidiness surrounding you. self-care alway felt like a right decision. you had done all the right things: face masks, hair treatments, a long, hot bath. with the day ahead free and easy, you decided to focus on things that nourished your soul. a lazy shopping trip was in order — a gentle drift through your favorite stores, picking up fresh produce and maybe a little something sweet for later.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈౨ৎ┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

by the time you returned home, arms full of groceries, you felt content but not quite ready to let go of the calm, indulgent mood that had enveloped you since yesterday. spa day, round two, you thought with a smile. why not?

today you were going to update your manicure, maybe try that new shade of mauve you’d been eyeing. but just as you settled into the comfort of the moment, fingers brushing over the row of nail polishes, your phone vibrated insistently with multiplate notifications, from the shelf beside you. startled, you paused mid-reach and grabbed it, eyes scanning the screen.

Wooin.

you blinked. of course. your friend always seemed to know, to sense, right when you were slipping into that quiet space of solitude, as if it was some secret alarm only he could hear. with a grin tugging at your lips, you typed an answer.

[hey] [what r u doing cupcake?😎🖕🏻]

you chuckled, leaning back against the counter. he always called you that sweet nickname. ignoring his question, you typed another message.

[let me guess. you need something from me, right?] [mmm, maybe🥱 how do you know?] [somehow you always know im about to do something, and you texting me🤯🤯]

a low chuckle rumbled from his mouth, when he already was in his car, waiting when he can ask his final question.

[oh?? did i interrupt something important?))] [maybe. just another self-care session] [too pity, cupcake... [...i hate to interrupt, but i was thinkin to joined in😎🖕🏻]

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but laugh. you liked how Wooin didnt even bored to ask your premission to join.

[you? spa day?] [i think i could use a little pampering] [fine]

you typed, feigning reluctance.

[but if you’re coming over, you’re bringing snacks]

[😎🖕🏻]

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈౨ৎ┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

just as you finished setting up your little manicure station in the living room, a familiar knock rattled the door — three short taps, and you just knew this bastard knocked by his foot. grinning to yourself, you opened the door to see Wooin standing there, cocky as ever, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“look who’s finally decided to grace me with his presence,” you teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“of course,” he said, slipping past you with the kind of swagger only he could pull off. “someone has to save you from your boring solo spa day. you’re welcome, by the way.”

he dropped a bag of snacks on the coffee table and gave the nail polish bottles a once-over, his brow lifting. “wow. all of this just for me?” his voice was dripping with fake awe. “so sweet from you, cupcake!”

“hey, this is my self-care,” you replied, plopping down on the couch. “something you clearly know nothing about.”

Wooin raised an eyebrow, that mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. “is that a challenge?” he flopped onto the couch beside you, propping his feet up like he owned the place. “because if you’re daring me to take over this whole operation, i’m in.”

“are you serious?” you shot him a doubtful look, waving a nail polish bottle in his direction. “you’re gonna do my nails?”

he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head, the picture of pure confidence. “why not? i’ve got the skills.” his grin widened as he showed one of his manicured hands. black polish brightly reflected the light. “actually, you’re lucky.” he said shooting finger gun at you, dead serious.

without missing a beat, he grabbed the nail polish from the table. “alright, sit back, relax and let the master work.”

you eyed him with skepticism, but extended your hand anyway. “if this goes south, i’m never letting you touch my nails again.”

“don’t worry, i’ve got steady hands. steadier than yours, probably.”

you rolled your eyes. “sure, Picasso. just don’t paint my whole nail off.”

he chuckled but proceeded with surprising precision, his touch careful, yet annoyingly smug. “you know, i could totally charge for this. nail bars would pay good money to have someone like me.”

“oh yeah?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow, you watched as he dipped the brush into the bottle with an overly serious expression, like he was handling precious cargo. when he finally swiped the first brush stroke over your nail, it was surprisingly… good.

“see?” he smirked, clearly proud of himself. “i told you i’d nail it.”

you groaned at the pun. “you’ve been waiting to say that, haven’t you?”

“maybe,” he winked, adding another stroke to your nail. “but you’ve gotta admit, i’m kinda killing this.” you glanced at your nails, then back at him. “i hate to say it, but... you’re not half bad.”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈౨ৎ┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

he finished painting your nails, each stroke getting a little faster, a little cockier. “you know, i should’ve charged for this. professional-quality work right here.”

you lifted your hand to inspect the final product, and, annoyingly, it was good. the polish was smooth, no smudges, no streaks.

“you’re actually pretty decent at this,” you admitted, narrowing your eyes at him. “i hate it.”

“aw, are you jealous of my superior skills?” he teased, tossing the brush back onto the table with a flourish. “i told you, i’m multi-talented.” he leaned back, grinning smugly and you cant help but rolled your eyes again, couldn’t hide your smile.

as the two of you lounged on the couch, snacking and bickering, you glanced at your freshly painted nails and couldn’t help but feel… lighter. there was something about Wooin’s playful, teasing presence that made everything feel more… comfortable.

“alright, alright,” you admitted, breaking the comfortable silence. “you did good.”

“Damn right, i did,” he said, flashing you a grin. “you’re welcome, cupcake”

shaking your head, you grabbed a chocolate bar and tossed it at him. “don’t get too cocky. next time, i’m making you paint your own nails.”

“oh, please. i’d rock it,” he said, catching the bar effortlessly. “you’d be begging me to teach you.”

you laughed, sinking deeper into the cushions of your sofa. maybe Wooin’s cocky, mischievous charm wasn’t so bad after all.

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MASTERLIST

[guess-that-ship]

Guess That Ship Tournament S5: Finals

Keep your enemies close

A and B are childhood friends from wealthy/powerful families. However when A gets older his political opinions change drastically and he disowns his mother and creates an anarchist biker gang. Meanwhile B's father dies so he takes over his company and becomes powerful. A and B begin to have conflicts from their differing beliefs. A sees them as fundamentally opposed to one another while B sees it as them using different approaches towards the same goal.

Things between them escalate and they end up fighting against each other, culminating with B sending his men to beat A into a coma. When A wakes up, he goes on a revenge quest against B and the two of them try to kill each other a few times, but both are unable to. B admits that given countless times he could never kill A because he still sees him as a friend despite everything. A points a gun at B and B tells him to kill him but something in A prevents him from doing so. A, unable to kill B but not able to let him walk free due to the threat he poses, decides on returning the favor and putting him in a coma instead.

The most unbearable people on the planet go on a roadtrip through hell

Found family can consist of anything and anyone; found family can also consist of 12 temporarily immortal employees, a worried manager who lost their head (figuratively and literally), a tired guide and his adoptive child who happens to drive a man-eating, magical bus as well as said man-eating, magical bus. And what’s worse is that they’re probably the most unbearable people on the planet – all stuck in that damn bus.

Even so, they travel throughout a variety of broken districts and cities, making various attempts in fulfilling the requests of citizens and alike – albeit in their own chaotic and messy way. Along the ride they struggle, fight each other, share laughs, comfort one another as well as discover each other's pasts and regrets. Despite their differences and conflicts, in this hellish world they live in, they'll learn to depend on each other and survive together as co-workers (and as a broken but healing family).

Because even through the infinite possibilities, billions of timelines, as well as countless alternate universes they reach through, they'll always and inevitably be stuck as co-workers – whether they like it or not.

(Ahem... if I can ask my fellow tournament runners to campaign for this on their personal blog instead of their tournament blog, that'd be appreciated.)

[theewokingdead]

The Princess Bride

Pairing: Benny Miller x wife!Reader (1st Person POV; Benergy Universe) Summary: Benny always breaks into random movie references when you least expect it. Word Count: 800+ Rating: No rating but my blog is 18+ Warnings: Includes lines from The Princess Bride Notes: My husband said the Mosquito Montoya line today and it sparked a fic idea. As always, Benergy is a collection of one-shots so this can be read without having read anything else. ***If you enjoy this fic, please tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)***

Masterlist Benergy Masterlist

Having grown up in Colorado’s beautiful mountains, Benny loves being outside. So much so that sometimes he lets the outside in. Even in Florida’s sticky summer heat, Benny will leave the back door wide open behind him whenever he goes out onto the patio. I guess he figures there's no point in closing the door when he'll be back sometime between now and three hours from now.

Eyeroll.

He’s come in and out of the house at least a half dozen times in the past five minutes alone. A task as simple as grilling burgers for the four of us is turning into a hundred step process as first he forgets the spatula, then the cheese, and finally a clean plate to put the cooked burgers on. Then he suddenly decides he wants hot dogs as well.

And this man swears he doesn’t have ADHD.

A hot, humid breeze dances over my body as I stand at the sink, cleaning dishes I had let pile up. The AC unit rumbles in the distance, trying to fight off the heat creeping in, but it’s a losing battle. I've given up on reminding Benny to close the door.

Sophie, our youngest, isn't as agreeable. She's sitting at the kitchen island behind me, a coloring book and a box of crayons strewn in front of her. She whines, and when I turn toward her, I can see the tension building in her shoulders as her eyes seem to follow something around the room.

“A mosquito!” she screams. I have no idea how she's a product of Benny when she hates the outdoors, especially insects, so much.

I don’t immediately see whatever she sees, though I'm certain if our backyard wasn't covered with a screen, all of the state's wildlife would've snuck in by now. There could be a gator climbing up the wall for all I know. I’m honestly not surprised that a mosquito snuck through the netting and got into the house, but I really could not care less about playing bug catcher right now.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” I say, turning back to the dish in my hand. “If you don’t bother it, it won’t bother you.”

“But it will bite me,” she whines, squirming in her seat.

“I’ll get it in a minute, sweetheart,” I offer, hoping she’ll just forget about it and move on. “I promise it won’t bite you.”

“I don’t want it to bite me!” Sophie cries, growing more distraught. “No, no, no! Go away, mosquito!”

Exhaling sharply, I drop the dish in my hand into the sink and turn off the water. Following her gaze, I finally see the source of her fear. There, on a wall nowhere near where she is, is a housefly, minding its own business.

Knowing she won't stop whining until it's taken care of, I grab a swatter and kill it, leaving a black mark on the wall to deal with later. Better yet, I’ll make Benny clean it up, since he’s the one who invited all of nature indoors.

“There. Better?” I ask, turning to look at Sophie, hoping she's satisfied and will let me return to my task.

“Yay! You’re my superhero!” Sophie cheers, clapping and smiling giddily.

"Thank you, baby." I offer her a small smile before turning back to the sink

As soon as I return to washing the dishes, Benny walks into the kitchen, a plate full of cooked food in one hand and a dirty spatula in the other.

“Hello. My name is Mosquito Montoya,” he says with the worst Spanish accent, and I can just sense him pointing the spatula at me. “You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

Sophie squeals with laughter, finding anything and everything her father does entertaining. If anything, she’s always encouraging him.

I go still, staring blankly at the wall in front of me. Sometimes I cannot believe the things that come out of his mouth.

“I swear to god I’m leaving,” I say, shutting off the water and reaching for a towel to dry my hands. He’s been in a playful mood all day and I’m just over it – well, not really, but I can’t let him know that. He’s incorrigible. “I am running away and never coming back.”

“You keep saying that,” Benny says. He drops back into the Spanish accent and adds, “I do not think it means what you think it means.”

“Jesus Christ,” I say, tossing the towel onto the counter. I throw my hands in the air, feigning defeat. “I'm done.” I walk out of the kitchen, shaking my head and biting my lip to hide the laughter. He might be annoying as hell at times, but he’s hilarious - I just can’t let him know it.

“True wuv will fowow you foreva,” Benny quotes, following closely behind me.

“Oh my God! Stop!” I exclaim, laughter creeping up in my voice. I pretend to cover my ears.

“So tweasure your wuv!” he exclaims.

“Never!” I shout, but I'm quickly breaking into giggles while trying to escape him.

“Get back, witch!" Benny finally exclaims between laughs. He reaches out and grabs my wrist, spinning me around and pulling me into a kiss before I can protest further. As his lips touch mine, everything else melts away. I surrender to the pleasure, a soft moan escaping my lips as I kiss him back with more intensity.

After a moment, I push him away, and he stares at me in confusion.

“I’m not a witch, I’m your wife,” I say, and his lips immediately twist into a more mischievous smile. He knows that I almost always go along with his nonsense. “And after what you just said, I’m not even sure I want to be that anymore.”

“You never had it so good,” he replies, bringing me in for another kiss.

I can’t argue that.

[draconicsparkle]

I am such a fan of reading and writing physical contact between characters. Luckily, Nagizuru is similar in enjoying physical contact with his bff too!

Fellas, is it gay for you to hold someone close and carry them carefully and respectfully through your home? Hajime ain’t sure quite yet, but I’m sure he’ll get there one day!

Also, a bit of news. I’m gonna have to take a break from writing fics for this au. Sadly, I’ve currently run out of ideas I can do and will need some time away from it. I do hope you can understand. I do intend to return should Karu or I think of anything else! But when will that be? I can’t say. This is also not a guarantee of anything, so do keep that in mind.

Huge thank you again to @karugoround for letting me write for these babies for this long. It’s been a crazy adventure and I had tons of fun! Please go check out their art on their blog and give them love and attention!

And with that, I bid you a good day!

Another day. Another round of sedatives. Another dreamless sleep caused by them. It should have by all intents and purposes been another boring and dull day.

But Izuru made up his mind to find some sort of entertainment come evening. He had a plan, and he found himself more than eager to execute it. All he needed was for his caretaker to come in.

And right on time, the door opened. In stepped his caretaker, so diligent and thoughtful. So reliable and… easy to convince. It was a part of his charm, and something Izuru was secretly fond of. Though he would admit he was both amused and frustrated at the lack of awareness Hajime sometimes displayed. Most of his subtle hints went unnoticed, not registering in that simple little mind of his. But again, it was a part of his charm. And Izuru was not quite ready to reveal it all to the other. After all, they were still trapped in hell.

But he still desired to indulge in pastimes he found entertaining. And his current favorite? Interacting and teasing his dear caretaker.

“Welcome back. Your presence was deeply missed,” he greeted, sitting up on his bed to gaze at the brunette.

That adorable pink flush filled the caretaker’s cheeks. “Y-you missed me?”

Izuru nodded. “Of course. You remain the sole human on this planet who I desire to see. No other has earned that privilege.”

He wasn’t lying when he said this, but he still enjoyed weaving together such declarations of affection to see the reactions again. He would never tire of them, and this one was just as glorious as the others. Hajime stuttered as he replied. “I-I’m honored, sir.”

Izuru then decided to begin putting his plan into action. “Hajime, there is something I wish to do. Something that we shall do once these ridiculous tests are done.”

“Huh? You want to… do something? May I ask what you want to do?” Hajime asked as he prepared the instruments on his cart.

Izuru reached forward and took hold of the chain, lightly tugging it. “I wish to see the floor you live on. To explore a section of this building I have yet to see. That is doable, yes?”

That flush increased, turning several shades darker as the words processed in Hajime’s mind. “You… want to see the fifth floor? I… I guess we can do that. No one ever comes to that floor other than me, so it’ll be safe.”

Izuru leaned in, whispering into his ear. “Perfect.” His smile grew when he saw the shiver that single word elicited. He then extended his arms, resigning himself to the tests that ruled his life. He did his best to ignore the dullness of it all, eyes roaming his caretaker’s form and observing every little detail. It didn’t matter that he had long since memorized every microscopic part, it was still thrilling to rediscover it all.

Finally, it finished. Everything was completed and stored back on the cart in their proper places. How organized, his caretaker was. But that wasn’t important for now. No, he had something else to say. “Since I have the sedatives in my system, I will require you to carry me. That won’t be difficult for you, right?” he sweetly asked, widening his eyes and easing his expression into one that would be hard to refuse.

Hajime wasn’t able to reply, too overwhelmed by the request. But still, his caretaker was reliable and willing, never refusing a direct order from the Ultimate Hope. Thus, the brunette carefully wrapped his arms around his thin, pale body. He was lifted effortlessly, held tightly and securely as if he was a freshly married bride being carried off to his honeymoon. What a nice mental image that was.

But that was something he could picture later, as he felt Hajime begin moving once more. Out of the doorway and to the beautiful elevator. Oh, he loved these devices. Such a smooth ride with amazing technology behind it. If only he was able to ride it more often. And when he got out of the lighthouse, he would insist on a place with access to an elevator. He knew he would receive no objections to this request.

The ride ended, the twin metal doors opening to reveal the new floor to him. He gazed around with interest, taking it all in. Hajime saw this and began talking. “I can give you a tour, if you would like. Show you all I have here.”

Izuru turned his head so it rested on Hajime’s shoulder. “That would be preferred. Proceed.”

After another of those full body shivers, the caretaker did just that. He was shown the kitchen, where all his meals were prepared and the ingredients were stored. It looked as though Hajime had procured more of a variety of items through the luck blessing, and he was eager to see what was to come. Next was the side room, where the washer and dryer combination was along with shelves of clean towels and linens. He also saw an ironing board with a suit on it. Seemed like his caretaker was diligent in many other aspects.

And finally, Hajime showed him his own bedroom. It was small and cramped, the bed looking like something stolen right out of a hospital. But still, he couldn’t deny his sudden desire.

“Hajime, I am beginning to feel the effects of the sedatives. Place me down on your bed so that I may rest. You will join me on it,” he declared, turning his head so that he could see the reaction.

As predicted, it was fantastic. Intense flush, eye darting around everywhere but at him, and fidgeting. “You… want to rest on my bed? But… wouldn’t you rather go back to your own?”

Izuru shook his head, lifting a hand to the brunette’s cheek and forcing him to meet his eyes. “No. I wish to lie on yours. Won’t you indulge me, my dear caretaker?”

With a gulp, Hajime did as requested. He carefully laid the Ultimate Hope down on the bed, making sure his long hair was out of the way. He rushed over to a tiny closet nearby, pulling a fluffy blanket out. “I… managed to snag this afternoon. I was waiting to bring it to you tomorrow for you to have it all day. But I guess this works, too.”

Izuru watched as Hajime unfolded the blanket and spread it out on top of him. It was warm and cozy, settling on his body and relaxing him. But he knew something that would make it better. “Hajime, I will ask you to recall the second part of my request.”

From the way Hajime appeared to be biting the inside of his lip, that request had not been forgotten. “If… you want me to. I’ll do anything you ask of me,” the brunette assured, pulling part of the blanket up and slipping underneath it.

Once he was fully under, Izuru pounced. He locked Hajime in his grip, arms holding him tight and not letting go. Izuru rested his chin on top of Hajime’s head, so his caretaker was leaning against his sternum. “This is to be our positions for this. You are not to leave unless absolutely necessary.”

He didn’t need to hear the reply, the warmth and sedatives lulling his mind back into unconsciousness. And as he drifted off, holding the only human worthy of his presence, he had a thought.

He pictured them in this exact position, in a king sized bed in a decorated room full of personal effects. A gorgeous sunset visible out the window, painting the sky with vibrant colors. And Hajime was asleep, no worry lines on his face. Peaceful. That was the best way to describe it.

And one day, he would make that a reality.

Masterpost

[pudding-parade]

Simblr New Years Resolution 2024

Because @papermint-airplane is lazy and demanding…and I promise not to whine too much.

What's your Resolution for your Simblr? I dunno. I always say that I want to be less flaky and "here today, gone tomorrow" about it, but I never actually follow through with that. Life happens and, when I can, there are many things that I'd rather be doing than sitting at a computer messing around on a blog. Right now, I don't have a whole lot of other options available, so…Enjoy it while it lasts? Hate it while it lasts? I guess? But even so, there are other games I want to play besides Sims, and since this is a (mostly) Sims-dedicated blog…Well, there we are.

What do you want from the Sims Franchise? All I want for Christmas is a 64-bit TS3 so that I don't have to keep checking how much RAM the game is using and then saving and reloading before it hits the Point of No Return. It must really suck for people who play bigger and more heavily-populated worlds than I do.

I'm convinced a 64-bit TS3 will never happen, though. Even though, last I checked, EA still sells the game. At full price, even.

Any other New Years Resolutions? I've never been one to make resolutions. Life is too unpredictable, so I just go with the flow, doing the best I can day by day. I'm old enough now that I know that who I basically am and what I will do in my life is not going to change much, if at all. I've done chameleon-like change enough in the past -- sometimes willingly, sometimes not -- that I don't feel that I need to change anything else, ever. I'm happy with who and what I am, but it's taken me about 50 years to get to that level of I-don't-give-a-shit-what-anyone-else-thinks zen, so…yeah. LOL

On the other hand, not to be really strange and probably macabre, but…Until recently, I wasn't supposed to live for very much longer. I'd already outlived expectations, in fact. I'd been given about 5 to 7 years of "meaningful" life when I was diagnosed in 2013, meaning that after that it was predicted that I'd pretty much be hospital- or at least bed-bound until I finally kicked it. Or offed myself, which was my plan for when I became incapacitated because that is no kind of life.

So, how long I could've kept going was an open question, but I think it probably wouldn't have been much more than a year, realistically. Things went downhill pretty fast this past year. And I had come to grips with that and had things all arranged. But now that I will live longer, perhaps even a normal lifespan, I'm kind of feeling flummoxed about what I'm going to do with all that time that I hadn't planned on. So maybe my resolution should be figuring that shit out. Yeah.

Anyway! I, too, am lazy and demanding, so I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you read this and decide to do it, too, tell 'em I sent ya.