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smileysuh · 7 months

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Love, Cupid

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, love drunk Mingyu, fingering, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, hand-holding during sex, Mingyu is somewhat subby/switchy, mainly missionary to accommodate for his wings, sensitive wings, hand job, mention of birth control, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, etc… I pet names: (his) big guy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.4k

🍭 aus. mythical/roman/cupid au, soulmate au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this man has me in a chokehold

Prologue - the accident

“I’m still not really sure why we needed a new cupid,” Mingyu confesses, toying with the elegantly curved, white bow in his hands. “But I guess if anyone is going to teach you how to do this, it should be me.”

It’s no secret that out of the twelve high council cupids, Mingyu is the one who is most obsessed with love. He lives, breathes and dreams of it. Every second of the immortal man’s life is dedicated to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Out of all of Venus’s children, Mingyu is the favorite, and he has no worries that training this new cupid will lead to competition in that regard. Chan seems nice enough, but Mingyu can already tell that the kid has a lot to learn when it comes to the duty of being a matchmaker.

“Our arrows are the most powerful weapon on earth,” Mingyu explains, hovering with his new younger brother over the busy city street. They each have large angelic wings that keep them aloft, and extra cupid magic makes it so they’re invisible to the human eye. Mingyu’s favorite place to people-watch is from the sky, it gives him a bird’s eye view, and an easy way to trail his targets without anything getting in the way.

“I thought Jupiter’s lightning bolt was the most powerful weapon on earth,” Chan muses.

“It’s not.”

“Neptune’s trident then.”

Mingyu lets out a deep sigh. “Are you here to learn or not?”

“I just want you to explain it to me. How is your bow and arrow the most powerful weapon?” Chan acts as if he’s just looking for information, but Mingyu gets the sneaking suspicion that the young cupid is toying with him. He seems to be cut from the same cloth as the likes of Jeonghan and Soonyoung, who identify as more mischievous and tricksy than most deities supposedly enamored with love.

“Love is the most powerful thing on Earth,” Mingyu states, “and our tools are the makers of love, for humans anyways. Do you know how many wars were started in the name of love? How many people have died for love? Love is the most important and powerful emotion. Without it, humanity has nothing.”

“I’m still not sure I agree with you on this,” Chan sighs.

“You don’t have to agree with me, because I’m right, and I know I’m right. Now shut up and watch,” Mingyu shushes the younger cupid, pointing at the street below. “Do you see that human?”

Chan flies closer to Mingyu, angling his head toward the elder cupid’s large bicep, looking down his arm to the point of his finger. “The pretty girl?”

“Yes, exactly! Her!”

“Are we going to shoot her?”

“Yes, but we can’t just shoot her randomly- when we shoot her, she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees- the first person she looks at, and we can’t have her falling in love with just anyone on the street. That would be very irresponsible of us. Once shot, a soul connection forms- our arrows can never miss, and they can never be shot nonchalantly.”

“Or what?”

“Or it would be very, very bad, and as I said, irresponsible, and just… not good. Our job is to find a good match for as many humans as possible, and we can do this by looking at their auras. You see how her aura is pink?” God, Mingyu loves looking at your aura. You’ve got one of the prettiest auras he’s ever seen, and Mingyu’s been around for an extremely long time. “Each aura means something different. Pink souls are romantics, they’re soft. Pinks do best with other pinks, other pinks make them the most fulfilled. They can also manage a red, as they’ll draw on each other’s mutual passions. White auras are also suitable for pinks.”

“Yeah, I know about arua colour.,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Blues work best with blues, they can also do well with greens or purples. Greens do best with yellows, greens or blues. Purple does blue or red. I’m not in primary school.”

Mingyu has no clue how old the new cupid is. It’s a very human joke to make- mentioning primary school. Cupids are born, sure, but they age differently than humans, faster. Mingyu supposes that as the newest cupid, maybe Chan is a representation of the times- but if he starts bringing out Gen Z humor and saying things like “this is lit” while shooting his marks, Mingyu might just have a heart attack.

“These days, pink can be a rare aura to find in men,” Mingyu admits. “I’ve considered a few red auras for her- but she’s so soft, I wouldn’t want her to be overwhelmed. Reds are prone to anger, and a pink can soften them out, but a red aura will always be red, and I don’t think I want that for her.”

“Are you always this wrapped up in the matches you make?” Chan asks. “This shit seems easy- I see an orange aura, I match them with an orange, yellow, or red. I see a pink, I match her with a pink, white or red. It’s not that serious.”

“How could it be anything but serious!?” Mingyu groans. “I told you, our arrow is the most dangerous weapon in the world- you can’t just go around shooting people randomly!”

“But you haven’t actually explained what would happen if I did,” the new cupid points out.

“I told you, it’s irresponsible.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

“It means bad things would happen!”

“Bad things like what, though?”

Mingyu loves love. He’s a soft cupid. But for the love of Venus, he’s beginning to want to strangle Chan.

Instead of answering, Mingyu’s gaze finds you again. Chan doesn’t have to take this seriously, Mingyu’s on a mission to find you a soulmate, and he’ll stop at nothing-

“Ouch!” Mingyu flinches, tearing his eyes from you and grabbing at his arm, where an arrow is protruding from his bicep. The cupid’s jaw drops, and he looks to the younger mischief maker.

“Oops?” Chan shrugs.

“Why did you do that!?” Mingyu screams, tearing the arrow out and covering the wound before it begins to drip his golden immortal blood.

“I wanted to see what would happen if I randomly shot a couple without doing research. She’s pink. You’re the pinkest soul I’ve ever even seen- it’s a good match, no?” Chan grins. “Like… what’s the worst that could happen?”

Mingyu can’t even speak. He can’t find the words.

Never, in the history of the world - as far as Mingyu knows it - has one cupid shot another, let alone with the intention of binding their soul to a mortal’s.

But to be completely fair, Mingyu can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Chan. For one, he should have never given the new cupid his own bow and arrow, and maybe more importantly- Chan might have been right in binding the two of you. Because holy shit, you’ve got the prettiest soul Mingyu’s ever seen, and he’s been hesitant to match you up with someone, worried they’d be unworthy-

What’s a better fit for your pretty pink aura than his own vibrant magenta self?

One - the cupid council

“And then…” Mingyu looks around at the council of Cupids, taking a deep breath as he gets to the climax of the report, “Chan shot me.”

“He shot you?” Seungcheol grins, adjusting in his golden throne as he looks at the two immortals in the center of the room.

“With an arrow,” Mingyu clarifies. “Yeah.”

The eldest cupid stifles laughter, lifting a hand to half cover his mouth as he giggles and looks around at the others. Jeonghan meets the eldest’s gaze, also grinning. There are mixed reactions from others, and it’s Soonyoung of all people who stands up as if this whole thing is blasphemy, declaring, “Take the kid’s arrows away!”

“Why did this kid even get made,” Jihoon groans, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

“Hey!” Chan declares, offended at the notion of him being a useless creation from their godly mother.

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “take his arrows away.”

“Wait, no, I earned these!” Chan holds his bow and quiver close to his chest, hiding behind Mingyu when one of the other cupids gets closer to relieve him of his weapons.

“You shot an elder cupid,” Seungcheol says dismissively. “How does that count as earning your bow and arrow, or for that matter, your wings.” The eldest eyes the small white protrusions that flutter behind Chan, who shudders at the idea of them being taken away along with his cupid tools.

“Okay, everyone relax,” Jeonghan sighs, standing from his throne to address the room. “This isn’t Chan’s fault. I’d heard Mingyu was having trouble with a mark, being indecisive- and I wasn’t the only one who heard about it. This instruction came from Mother herself. Chan was just following orders. He has earned his bow and arrow, as well as his wings.”

“This order came from Mother?” Seungcheol sits up in his chair, jaw-dropping.

Venus is generally very hands-off with her sons. The idea that she’d heard about Mingyu’s predicament, and stepped in with an idea like this- well, it’s completely abnormal, and it’s clear that everyone on the cupid council is shocked by the revelation.

“She said something along the lines of… ‘Mingyu loves love, and it’s time he experiences it for himself.’” Jeonghan waves a hand nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

“What were you doing with Mother?” Wonwoo asks, and it’s clear in his tone that he’s not entirely trusting of the elder, more mischievous cupid.

“She has favorites, you know,” Jeonghan grins. “To Mingyu, she gifted love, to me, she gifted the role of messenger.”

“That’s some gift,” Seungcheol scoffs, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol wishes he’d been the one chosen to be privy to this information. “So Mother wants Mingyu to do what? Seduce a human?”

“Like it will be hard?” Jeonghan lets out a barking laugh. “This is our Mingyu we’re talking about. If anyone can seduce a human, it’s him.”

Two - the first meet

“Ok, but what if you shoot her too?” Mingyu suggests as he and Chan follow you from a distance, flying through the clear evening sky while you head home from work.

“Why don’t you shoot her?” Chan retorts.

“Jeeze,” Mingyu rolls his eyes at the newness of his sidekick. “You shot me, so I’m bonded to her now, which means only you can make her second connection. It’s a rule to make sure cupids don’t get in each other’s way. You shot me to fall for her, and if I shot her to fall for anyone else, that would lead to unrequited love, which isn’t fun for anyone.”

“A rule? What would happen if you tried to shoot her though? I mean, unless you and all the other cupids constantly communicate about your marks, there’s no way to know which human belongs to which cupid, is there?”

“What’s with you and breaking rules?” Mingyu sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Listen, I’m not testing fate again… also, most cities are split into small zones. Cupids stick to their zones.”

“Humans don’t though,” Chan points out.

“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

“So will you shoot her for me?”

“Mmmm,” Chan makes a face. “I don’t think so.”

“What?!” Mingyu stops flying, staring at the cupid that he’s supposed to be training. “But… but I’m your teacher, and I’m telling you to shoot her for me!”

“That would be too easy though, right?” Chan flashes a grin. “Plus- that would be an abuse of power, Mingyu. You’re in love with her now, so telling me to force her to fall for you isn’t very fair, now is it?”

“I-” Mingyu bites at his tongue. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well… we know I’m best for her. It wouldn’t be an abuse because we know I’ll treat her right.”

“The thing is…” Chan lets out a yawn, “I’m still not convinced.”

“So you expect me to just go and talk to her?”

“Yeah?” The younger cupid shrugs. “You’re supposed to be some sex god, aren’t you?”

“No one’s ever called me that…” Mingyu can feel his skin heating at the notion. “I’m a love cupid, not a sex god.”

“Same thing,” Chan scoffs. “Just go talk to her. Come on, follow me.” He takes a nose dive, approaching the ground at a speed that makes Mingyu worry for his safety- only for Chan to land like a pro, waving at him to hurry up.

With a groan, Mingyu follows the younger cupid, his feet touching down onto the pavement of the crowded street.

“You can’t go talk to her looking like this,” Chan explains, looking Mingyu up and down.

As immortal beings, they’re impervious to the temperatures of the evening. Dressed in a cream-coloured toga, Mingyu stands out amongst the jackets and hats worn to protect human skin from the cold. “Give me a sec,” Mingyu sighs, using some cupid magic to transform his outward appearance, conjuring an outfit he thinks might draw you in. “How’s this?”

“A suit? Seriously?” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Suits are in!” Mingyu insists.

“Yeah, if you want to look like a sugar daddy.”

“Maybe she wants a sugar daddy?” Mingyu suggests.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some human expert? She’s a pink soul, Mingyu, how many pink souls really value money over personality?”

“So you know more about humans than I do now?” Mingyu can’t believe what he’s hearing out of his ward’s mouth.

“I think love is blinding you, dude,” Chan says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s expensive silk tie. “You’re pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m rich,” Mingyu insists.

“Sure, but you’re not a sugar daddy, you’re a cupid.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So what would you want me to wear?”

“Blue jeans, maybe a hoodie, something that screams ‘make me your boyfriend.’”

Mingyu has to concede that Chan might be onto something, but he refuses to admit it out loud. In fact, Mingyu buries deeper into his conviction that you’ll like the suit. “This outfit is staying,” he states.

“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

With one final grin and giggle at his own double entendre, Chan pushes Mingyu roughly, causing him to fall back and bump directly into you. The rough contact jolts Mingyu into a corporeal form, putting him fully into your visibility as you steady yourself and blink up at him.

“Oh, uh… excuse me?” You’re a little stunned- but Mingyu supposes that's what happens when a man appears out of thin air.

“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu assures you quickly. “I uh… two left feet.”

“Right…” You look down, then back up at Mingyu, giving him a soft smile before stepping past him to continue on with your night.

Mingyu watches you in shock, then he pulls himself out of it, rushing to follow you. “I uh- I should make it up to you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave a hand.

“But I do worry about it,” Mingyu insists, putting himself in front of you this time. “Here,” he conjures a flower from behind his back, holding it out to you, “Something to say sorry.”

You stop, staring up at him and then down at the rose. “You just happen to have that?” you ask quizically. “Were you trying to bump into me or something?”

“No, I just had the flower.” Mingyu would be sweating if he was a being who could sweat.

“Sure you did,” you laugh. “Look, I’m sure whatever girl you actually had that flower for would like it more than me.”

“I swear, it’s for you- look, forget the flower,” Mingyu tosses it onto the ground. “There must be some way I can make this up to you.”

“Dude, you bumped into me on the street, we’re good.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply says, “Please?”

You let out a sigh. “If I give you my number, will you let this go?”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you have a pen?”

Mingyu conjures one in his pocket, pulling it out to give it to you. When you take the pen, you grab his wrist, pulling his palm close so you can scrawl across it.

The cupid watches your every action, etching it into his memory. You’re so lovely, your pretty pink aura wrapped around you like a warm halo. When he takes in a deep breath, he can smell the touch of roses in the air, a lover-girl scent-

“There,” you sigh, releasing his hand. “Now I really have somewhere to be.”

“Okay,” Mingyu murmurs, holding his palm close. “Have a good night.”

“You too, big guy,” you say, laughing to yourself as you brush past him.

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize he never got your name and vice versa. He’s tempted to rush after you, only for a hand to clap down on his shoulder.

“Dude,” Chan grins, “that was embarrassing to watch. You have like, zero rizz.”

Three - the date

Mingyu is doing his best. He’d texted you a safe amount to plan your date. He’d picked you up in an expensive car, held doors open for you, and now, you’re eating at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.

Even so, Mingyu can tell that something is off with you. As you pick at the appetizer, Mingyu finally gets the courage to ask what’s wrong.

“You want the honest truth?” you laugh, leaning back in your chair.

“Always.” Mingyu puts down his fork and knife, focusing on you completely.

“I’m thankful for the date,” you start. “Taking me somewhere nice is really sweet of you and everything, it’s just… I don’t know. I think lots of men these days think all girls want is money. As nice as this is- as nice as your car is, and this restaurant, I don’t think I’m the kind of girl that fits with this vibe.”

“You’re not?”

You shake your head. “You’re clearly a guy that’s well off, and I’m happy for you about that, but… I feel like when guys take me to nice places, they always expect something in return. There’s this expectation that when money gets put down, the girl has to put out too, just… in other ways.”

“Other ways? Like what?”

You scoff, giving him a look. “You know what other ways.”

Except Mingyu doesn’t know, because he’s never actually been on a date, especially not with a human. He has no idea what sort of expectations are normal, especially in your mundane world. As a cupid, he sets up the matches, but he doesn’t really follow along with the journey and see what his marks get up to after being shot with his arrow.

“Can I be honest too?” Mingyu asks after a moment of contemplation.

“Of course.”

“I uh…” He picks his words carefully. “I don’t really date often. So… whatever expectations you think I might have, just know that I don’t have any. I just want to get to know you. That’s it. I promise.”

You stare at him, and Mingyu gets lost in your eyes. He’s more than happy to wait patiently while you think of a response, it gives him time to appreciate your beautiful form-

“You’re serious?” you ask finally.

“Uh huh,” Mingyu nods. “You seem surprised.”

“I just... You’re all handsome and dressed well, and you have a nice car, and you’ve obviously got money- I just sort of assumed you were a sugar daddy or something. Someone used to taking girls out.”

Mingyu hates the use of the term ‘sugar daddy.’ It’s clear to him that Chan was right about the vibes of his clothing choices, and the cupid will admit that the car he conjured was maybe a tad too fancy. He’s been going about this all wrong, putting up a facade, creating a version of himself that he thought you would like.

Maybe Mingyu truly doesn’t know anything about you. He just hopes this misstep isn't enough to drive you away.

“I’ve been single a long time,” Mingyu admits. “I guess, maybe I got wrapped up in doing the things I thought you would like. I figured most girls like to be wined and dined, but I never really asked you what you wanted to do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Can we start over?” Mingyu suggests.

You smile softly, nodding.

Mingyu thinks about it for a moment before he comes up with a question that he thinks could redirect this whole situation for the better. “If I could go back, and let you choose what type of date this would be, what would we have ended up doing?”

“I find that first dates where we can walk around and see stuff together are kind of nice,” you admit. “Formal things like this, face to face, over food- they kind of make me anxious. And lulls in the conversation are more obvious.”

You’re very right about that. Every long moment of silence has made Mingyu’s heart race, and he’s rushed to fill it with surface-level questions that never seemed to hit their mark. It’s interesting that he’s learning about dating from you.

Mingyu has never realized how little he actually knows about the rituals of love.

“How do you feel about me covering the bill for our drinks and appetizer, then we can get out of here?” Mingyu suggests.

“You don’t want dinner?”

“If you want food, I’ll get you food,” he tells you, “but it sounds like you’d rather be on a walk, so let's go for a walk.”

You offer him another soft smile, and Mingyu can see the way your pink aura flutters with interest. It’s the first time you’ve really glowed for him tonight, so he knows he’s headed in the right direction with this line of thought.

“A walk would be perfect.”

Half an hour later, the two of you are walking side by side through one of the small city parks.

You were right about the awkward pauses disappearing. Conversation is flowing steadily, and Mingyu couldn’t be happier. You tell him about your job, your friends, the things you do that make you happy, hobbies that have stuck with you since you were younger.

Mingyu is practically overflowing with questions now, and every response you give him is committed to memory.

“It’s such a nice night,” you say wistfully, pausing to look up at the sky, which is visible through a clearing in the tree canopy.

“It is,” Mingyu agrees, taking a deep breath and simply enjoying the moment.

That’s when a familiar cupid flies across his view, and Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest.

“Should we sit down somewhere?” Mingyu asks, looking at a bench a short distance away. It’s next to a large Oak, and Mingyu hopes that the leaf foliage can give him some privacy with you, away from any curious eyes.

You nod, gently grabbing onto his arm as you begin to walk.

Mingyu’s breath catches at the contact, a jolt of energy running through his entire form. He can feel his heart lurching again, but this is a much more pleasant feeling than before. His throat is dry, and he swallows thickly to clear it, skin heating into something like a blush.

He’s happy you’re not seated across from each other in some stuffy restaurant. With the low light of street lamps that line the walkway, there’s no way you’ll be able to see the flush of his skin. As much as Mingyu is a love cupid, he doesn’t want it to be too obvious that he’s enraptured with you.

He’s terrified that anything he does could scare you off, and he’d hate himself if that ever happened.

“Anyways,” you sigh as the two of you sit down, “enough about me, what about you?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu shuffles, turning to look at you only to find that you’ve angled your body toward him, your gaze fixed on his profile.

“What do you do for work?”

“Uh…” Mingyu doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the full truth either. “I’m a matchmaker, actually.”

“A matchmaker?” you repeat, surprise evident in the tone of your voice.

“Yeah. I set people up.”

“I didn’t know that was an actual job.”

“There’s lots of Korean Ajummas who want to set up their daughters or relatives with good men,” Mingyu explains, opting for a white lie.

“I see,” you nod. “A matchmaker who doesn’t date.”

“Yeah…” Mingyu clears his throat again. “Would you believe me if I said I’m pretty good at my job?”

“Maybe,” you grin. “What makes you good at your job? If not experience in the dating arena.”

“I think I’ve just always been someone who reads people. Matching is in my blood- although, after my mess up on reading you, I’m starting to wonder how successful I’ve actually been.”

“You didn’t mess up that badly,” you assure him. “And when given the opportunity to correct your misread, you did. I’m having a really good time with you now that we’re on a walk.”

“You are?” Mingyu feels like jumping up and celebrating, but he holds himself down to earth. “I’m uh, I’m having a really good time with you too.”

Instead of responding, you simply lean your head onto his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

The cupid holds very still, not wanting to move a muscle in the fear that you’ll pull away.

“Do you have any family?” you ask.

“A few brothers,” Mingyu responds.

“Are you close?”

Mingyu laughs. “With some.”

“Family can be an interesting experience,” you muse.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mingyu admits, looking out at the dark field in front of you, where Chan does another fly-by.

“I hate to say this, but I have an early morning work thing,” you sigh. “I should probably be getting home.”

“Wanna go back to my car at the restaurant? I can drive you.”

“My place actually isn’t that far from here, I was thinking I might just walk… but then again,” you let out a laugh, “these heels are kind of killing my feet.”

“What if I carry you home?”

You pull away from his shoulder, giving him a doubtful look.

“You don’t think I can carry you?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“It’s not that-”

“Come on,” Mingyu gets to his feet. “Get on my back, it will be fun, I promise.”

You give him another unsure look, but finally you stand too. Mingyu turns around, bending so you can jump onto his back. The moment you’re pressed against him, he feels like he’s in heaven. He can feel your breath along the back of his neck, and it sets every inch of him on fire.

“Hold on,” he tells you, enjoying the way you wrap your grip tighter around his broad shoulders, locking your fingers together by his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you admit with a shaky laugh.

“You trusted me,” Mingyu says, “and I’m not going to let you down… until we get to your apartment.”

You giggle again, and the sound is music to his ears.

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, and yet, your aura is buzzing so bright it nearly envelopes Mingyu with how tightly you’re pressed together.

“Something tells me you don’t mind.”

Four - the fuck up

“You know what you said about zones the other day?” Chan asks while he and Mingyu sit on the ledge of a tall building, looking down at the humans below.

“Yeah?”

“You said that cupids stick to their zones, right?”

“Yup.” Mingyu’s so annoyed by Chan he could scream. They’re supposed to be looking at auras, looking for a target for the day, but Chan’s head is off in the clouds-

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.”

Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning to look at Chan. “What was the point of those questions?”

“Just that… well, that’s Seokmin, isn’t it?” Chan points, and Mingyu follows his line of sight. Low and behold, Seokmin is flying two city blocks away, and it looks like he’s trailing something.

“We’re on the zone border,” Mingyu explains, but as he gets a bearing for the auras below, one stands out to him. “Shit.”

“I didn’t know you could cuss, grandpa,” Chan laughs, but Mingyu’s already pushing off from the ledge, his large wings unfurrowing so they can beat at the air, carrying him quickly toward the other cupid, leaving Chan in his dust. “Wait! Slow down!”

But Mingyu can’t slow down, because if he’s correct, it looks like Seokmin is trailing a very familiar pink aura that weaves amongst the muted people below.

Mingyu’s wings are large. They’re the largest of any of the cupids, and yet, as Seokmin draws his arrow, it’s clear that Mingyu’s superior size and speed won’t help him make it to his brother in time.

“Seokmin!” he yells, catching the man’s attention just as he lets his arrow fly.

Mingyu comes to a halt in the air, breath caught as he watches the arrow. It feels like everything is in slow motion, the arrow speeding through the sky toward you-

But then, it’s as if the arrow hits your aura and the pink hue acts as some sort of protective shield. The arrow falls to the ground, bursting into flower petals that melt away into the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?” Chan has caught up to Mingyu, and his words ring true to the situation. “Did Seokmin’s arrow just miss?”

“My arrows never miss!” Seokmin insists, fluttering over.

“But that one did,” Chan points out.

Seokmin’s eyes are wide with shock. “It didn’t! It was going to hit her!”

Chan rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t hit her!”

Mingyu can’t even speak. His gaze is fixed on you. The arrow missed, but you’ve come to a stop in your tracks, as if you could sense the close call you’d just somehow evaded.

“What are you two doing here anyways?” Seokmin glares. “You distracted me.”

“That’s Mingyu’s girl,” Chan responds nonchalantly.

“Who is?”

“The chick you just tried to shoot!”

Mingyu respects that Chan is getting so worked up about this, it’s kind of like the new cupid is trying to protect Mingyu and his love life endeavors.

“Wait, that’s the girl Mingyu likes?!” Seokmin bellows.

“That’s the girl he loves!” Chan insists.

“Can you both just- be quiet for a minute!?” Mingyu can’t deal with their arguing anymore, not when you’re so much more interesting.

He watches you pull out your phone-

“Do arrows even work on her?” Chan asks. “We all saw that right? It like… bounced off her aura?”

“They should work on everyone,” Seokmin responds quietly. “I mean, your arrow worked on Mingyu, for Venus’s sake.”

Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, the pocket he’d had conjured into his toga just to hold a line of communication with you. The other cupids turn to watch Mingyu as he lifts the human device to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey you.” Your voice is a little off. “You busy?”

“No,” Mingyu blurts out dumbly.

“Okay, good. Uh… I wasn’t sure if I should call or text-”

“Calling is good,” he assures you.

“That’s good to know.” You let out a small laugh, tucking in closer to the building and away from the busy street traffic. “It’s the weirdest thing, but you just popped into my mind. I guess, usually I let guys ask me out for a second date, and it’s only been two days since I saw you last, but I sort of just thought fuck it, I’d call you.”

Mingyu doesn’t even know how to respond. His mind is running a million miles a minute.

“Mingyu?” you ask. “Are you still there?”

“Sorry, yeah.”

“So… do you want to see each other again?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good!”

Even from a distance, Mingyu can see the way you light up, the way your aura twinkles with pretty pinks and magentas. “When… when are you free?” he asks, dazzled dumb by your beauty.

“This sounds crazy, and I get it if you’re busy, but… are you around?”

“Yeah?”

“Could we meet in an hour?”

“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mingyu has to physically give his head a shake to speak coherently, “I’ll come pick you up.”

“Can’t wait,” you smile. “Bye, Gyu.”

“Bye.”

You hang up, but Mingyu still feels frozen. It takes a moment before he’s able to pocket his phone.

“Dude, you’re still so lame when you speak to her,” Chan muses, nudging his mentor with a grin.

“We just watched her somehow block a cupid’s arrow,” Mingyu snaps, “excuse me for needing a minute.”

“Mingyu?” This time it’s Seokmin speaking, and Mingyu hates the way he immediately flashes a glare at his brother. “Sorry, it’s just… what’s that on your wrist?”

Five - the red string

Mingyu can’t seem to take his eyes off the red string around his wrist. He picks at the fine threads as he waits in his car for you to come down from your apartment. In fact, he’s so focused on the mysterious new bracelet that he forgets to get out of the vehicle to open your door for you.

When you open your own door it causes him to jump, heart lurching in fright- then he remembers where he is, and he’s quick to pull the sleeve of his sweater down, hiding the red string. “Hi,” he says, forcing a smile.

“You okay? I didn’t scare you, did I?” you grin, getting into the car.

“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Where, uh… where do you wanna go today?”

“Well, I was going to let you choose, but I didn’t want to end up in a fancy restaurant again, so I was thinking something simple like coffee?”

“Coffee sounds nice,” Mingyu admits. “Any specific place you like?”

“There’s a cafe by the park we were at last time, I’ll give you directions.” You reach over, gently squeezing his thigh. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he smiles, and this time, it’s not forced at all.

You make it to the cafe. After you order, Mingyu pays, and soon, the two of you are sitting in a cute little secluded booth in the corner. As you tell him about your day, Mingyu watches you take your jacket off. He admires your choice of clothes, the way the colours compliment your skin tone and the pretty pink aura you can’t even see.

When you settle and reach for your tea, Mingyu notices something around your wrist, and he nearly chokes on his coffee.

“You good?” you laugh, reaching out to touch his hand.

“Yeah.” Mingyu steadies himself. “Uh- what’s that red thread bracelet? I didn’t notice that on our last date.”

“Oh, this?” you look down at your wrist, lifting it a little. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Trust me,” the cupid laughs, “nothing you say could ever make me think you’re crazy.”

You give him an assessing look, but finally give in with a sigh. “Okay, so basically, one of my close friends is a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Still think I’m not crazy?”

“You’re not crazy, but I haven’t met this friend yet,” Mingyu teases.

“Anyways,” you take a deep breath, “she prays to Venus, and she swears on her life that Venus helped her meet her fiance. We had a bachelorette party about a week ago and she got all us bridesmaids these ‘Red Strings of Fate.’ It’s supposed to help us meet our own soulmates, or so she says.”

“Huh,” Mingyu sits back, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve never heard about ‘Red Strings of Fate.’”

“Really? But… I mean,” your gaze dips down, “you’re wearing one too?”

Mingyu’s heart lurches, and he looks at his wrist, where the mysterious red string had appeared an hour ago. “Right…”

“Did you not know about that when you bought it? Or…?” You cock your head to the side, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, when I saw you playing with that in the car when you picked me up, I’d kind of thought you’d gotten it to match mine.”

“I seriously didn’t even notice you had yours when we were on our last date,” Mingyu admits.

“Hmm…” Mingyu can see a glimmer of something behind your eyes, and then you grin broadly. “I guess maybe it’s just fate, huh?”

“Maybe,” Mingyu laughs.

“Where did you even gets yours?”

“It just kind of appeared,” Mingyu says honestly, only realizing what he’s said as the words leave his mouth.

“It just kind of appeared,” you repeat, looking very skeptical. Even so, you don’t question it, you simply lean back, your aura shimmering. “Guess it really is fate.”

Mingyu can’t even come up with anything else to say, so he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Listen…” you drum your fingers gently against the table, “I’ve been meaning to find a date for Luna’s wedding, but it can be hard to just run into someone you want to take to something like that. Then we quite literally ran into each other on the street, and now this whole string thing… if it’s not to soon, or too last minute, if you’d want to come to the wedding next week with me, I’d really appreciate the plus one.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu can’t believe his luck, can’t believe the cute determined set of your lips when you nod in the affirmative. “I’d love to go to this witch wedding with you.”

“As long as you don’t call her a witch to her face,” you laugh. “I think she prefers the term wicca.”

Mingyu makes a cross over his heart. “I won’t do anything to mess it up, I promise.”

Six - the consensus

The council is silent after Seokmin and Mingyu’s testaments on the oddities related to you. The younger cupids look to the elders to come up with a consensus, and Seungcheol is the first to finally speak.

“An arrow that didn’t strike, a red string, and a girl who thinks she’s a witch.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, Mingyu.”

Mingyu stays quiet, looking at his feet as he stands in the center of the council room, Seokmin and Chan on either side of him.

For a new cupid who stands up to his mentor all the time, Chan is being oddly quiet today. He hasn’t said a word, not even when Seokmin and Mingyu were recounting the story of how your aura had seemingly repelled an arrow. Chan’s nervousness is making Mingyu even more anxious, although he’s not sure what he has to be anxious about.

“While I’m certain we all appreciate the report,” Jeonghan says, “this union between Mingyu and his human is ordained by Mother. There’s no use discussing this further.”

“She avoided an arrow. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how a mortal did that?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s not usual for Wonwoo to speak, and the fact that he’s found this story of interest makes Mingyu’s skin tingle with more worry.

Jeonghan makes a face, shaking his head. “No.”

“I’m more focused on this witch,” Jihoon admits, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Magic isn’t anything new, but I wonder if this friend’s ‘connection to Venus’ is what made our mother step in.”

“I’ve never heard of a ‘red string of fate,’” Soonyoung adds. “This all seems very suspicious. Chan, what do you think?”

Chan fidgets next to Mingyu. “Uh… me?”

“No, the other cupid named Chan.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, you!”

“What do I think about what?” Chan asks dumbly.

Seungcheol sighs, Jeonghan snickers, and other cupids simply seem amused by the new cupid.

“What do you think about all of this?” Soonyoung clarifies. “New age Venus witches and strings of fate?”

“I think…” Chan swallows, looking over at Mingyu. When he speaks again, Chan’s voice has gained confidence, and he squares his shoulders. “I think that this whole thing started when Jeonghan gave me mother’s directions to pair Mingyu up with the girl he’d been trying to match for a while. But even if I hadn’t been directed to do it, when I look at Mingyu and the human, their auras just match. I’ve never seen an aura like hers. The only aura close to it in colour is Mingyu’s. I don’t know anything about red strings of fate or witches, but I do know that nothing bad could come out of a match like this one. Or at least, that’s what my heart is telling me.”

The council is silent while they process the new cupid’s words. Mingyu can feel a warmth spreading through his chest. For a dude who’s been nothing but an annoyance and hindrance so far, Chan is growing on Mingyu.

“Chan’s right,” Seokmin says. “Her aura is just like Mingyu’s. If anyone deserves a chance to fall in love, it’s them.”

“When did you all become so sentimental,” Jihoon groans, but there’s something of a smirk under his unamused expression.

“Seokmin,” Seungcheol’s voice draws all eyes, “since you dragged yourself into this, I want you to go with Chan and Mingyu to the wedding. I trust your opinion more than Chan’s. And Mingyu, see what information you can get from the witch. Even if this is all orchestrated by mother, I want to know the ins and outs of what power this wicca believes she has.”

Seven - the witch’s wedding

Mingyu hadn’t realized that being a plus one to someone in the wedding party meant that he’d be sitting alone in the venue while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t know anyone here except for Chan and Seokmin, who are floating around eying up the singletons. Mingyu had made them promise not to shoot too many people today, but there’s already been two meet-cutes and successful matches.

The love cupid is somewhat jealous of his brothers’ ability to work, their ability to form attachments while he’s made to sit and wait. To clear his mind, he fidgets with the red string on his wrist, hidden under his suit.

The red string has become somewhat of a soothing mechanism for the cupid. It feels tangible, in an odd sort of way. He enjoys the feeling as he gently drags it across his skin, looping it over and over again-

Music begins to play through the speakers, guests turn in their seats. A young flower girl walks up the aisle, the petals she’s tossing match the soft pink dress she’s wearing, and the tie around Mingyu’s neck. You’d shown up with the fabric when he’d come to pick you up, bashfully asking him if he wanted to match with you and the bridal party.

It was a small exchange, but it had meant the world to Mingyu. He loves the fact that he’s matching with you and your friends, loves the fact that the bride had chosen soft pink as one of the color themes.

After the flower girl, the bridesmaids begin to file in, arm in arm with groomsmen. Mingyu studies the auras, noting that many of the people in the party have pink tones to match their outfits. He likes seeing so many pinks in one area, it’s no wonder you talk so highly of your friends, you’re all pieces torn from the same cloth. Like him.

You step into view, and Mingyu can feel his heart beginning to race. You look stunning today, even more so than usual. The joy you feel radiates off of you, illuminating your aura with shimmery glitter.

When you walk by, you meet Mingyu’s gaze, and he feels his grin widening. All the waiting has been worth it if even for that one smile, the brief eye contact-

Venus, he loves you.

Everyone stands when the bride enters. She’s dressed in a white laced gown, with flowers in her hair, and pretty rose quartz jewelry. There’s definitely something different about her, a richness and vibrancy to her aura that screams power.

To Mingyu’s surprise, the bride meets his eyes as she walks past, offering a small tilt to her head before she continues up the aisle.

Mingyu thinks about the small motion from the bride throughout the ceremony.

He hasn’t met a real witch since the dark ages. People with a true connection to the gods are few and far in between these days. Mingyu wonders what kind of power your friend holds, and what it means in regard to him and the other cupids floating around.

Even with all these wonderings, Mingyu focuses on the example of love set before him. He listens to the vows, and the grandma next to him offers him tissues to wipe away his tears. The first kiss as man and wife makes Mingyu want to cheer with joy, his heart practically exploding in his chest.

He loves love.

When the bride and groom exit, you stand by the podium, explaining that the reception will take place in a venue two doors down from the ceremony hall. Mingyu watches you hurry out after the bride before he slowly dispurses with the rest of the guests, the kind grandma who had given him tissues latched to his arm for support.

He’s unsure of himself when he reaches the reception. There’s an entryway station that details table arrangements. “What’s your name dear?” the grandma next to him asks, adjusting some glasses on the tip of her nose.

“I don’t think I’m on the list,” Mingyu admits, scanning the seating cards.

He tells the old woman your name and she gives him an amused look. “A plus one to the bridal party,” she nods. “Table one.”

“And where are you seated?” the cupid asks. “I’ll help you there.”

After doing his duty with the old woman, Mingyu finds himself at a table full of pink-souled love birds. They’re all gushing about the ceremony, and are more than happy to welcome the cupid into the discussion. Mingyu’s never felt so immediately at ease, and you find him this way, laughing with his new group of love-obsessed peers.

“Hi,” you whisper, slipping into the seat next to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, about to turn and look at you- only for your lips to press to his cheek. Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest, his body freezing for a moment before he’s able to look into your eyes. “What was that for?”

“I’m just happy you came,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Mingyu retorts, and he really does mean it.

Being with you is so easy. He’d fallen for your pink vibration, and now he’s falling for the auras that your friends exude too.

Before Mingyu even knows it, your table is being called up for food. He sticks to your side like glue as you fill your plates, and when you begin to head back to sit down, the bride waves you over. Mingyu sticks to you even as you approach your friend, who stands from the newly wed table with a grin.

“So this must be the famous Mingyu I’ve heard so much about.” The witch grins. “I’m Luna.”

She holds out a hand, and Mingyu doesn’t even hesitate to take it. There’s an immediate jolt of energy that runs through him when their skin touch, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Luna meets his gaze with a steady smile.

“Y/N, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of wine from the open bar?” Luna asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You squeeze Mingyu’s arm before darting away.

The cupid opens his mouth to say something, only for Luna to cut him off. “I can see your wings.”

“What?” Mingyu nearly chokes on air.

“And your friends flying around,” Luna’s gaze lifts, trailing Chan as he soars over the dance floor. “Three cupids, and yet you’re the only one with a vibrant pink aura. It’s the pretties I’ve ever seen, aside from Y/N’s, of course.”

“You really can see us,” Mingyu breathes. “My brothers, my wings, my aura-”

“I bet you thought I wasn’t a real witch, didn’t you, big guy?” Luna laughs.

“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet her eyes now, especially since she’s just used your petname for him. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were real.”

“Most people don’t think you’re real,” the witch retorts. “Cupids? In twenty twenty four? It’s kind of shocking, not to mention outdated.”

“We’re not outdated,” Mingyu goes to defend himself, but the look Luna shoots him makes his voice catch in his throat.

“My first fiance was a bad match,” Luna says, capturing Mingyu’s full attention with the power of her tone. “Some white haired cupid shot me. I guess he figured I had a pink soul and this man had a red one so we’d even out. But we never did. It was bad. So bad that I started praying to Venus. When I got away from the guy, I was determined to find my next partner all by myself. A match based on actual connection. That’s how I met Jae.” Her gaze floats to her new husband, and an expression of love fills her features, her aura shimmering. “Listen. I know that you cupids try to do what you believe is right, but your matches don’t always work. That’s why I gave all my friends red strings of fate. To protect them from bad arrows… although, based off of the way you look at y/n, I’m pretty sure it’s not her who’s been shot.”

Mingyu can feel a lump in his throat. He can also feel a presence at his shoulder, and Chan leans forward to whisper, “Damn, dude, she read you for filth.”

Luna grins, looking at the new cupid behind Mingyu. “Stop shooting my guests.”

“You got it,” Chan agrees immediately.

“Look, we don’t have much time,” Luna sighs, “but what’s the deal with this whole thing. How did you even get shot? Are you guys drinking on the job, or what?”

“Actually, Venus herself instructed I shoot Mingyu and make him fall for your friend,” Chan defends himself. “Although, he was pretty much already in love with her anyways.”

Luna’s eyes widen in shock. “Venus did this?”

“Indirectly,” Chan nods.

“I don’t trust you guys, but I trust her,” the witch states. “I prayed to her that my friends find their soulmates, and now here you are.”

Could this really all be the witch’s doing?

Mingyu can hardly even think, he can only stand there dumbly, staring at Luna like she’s grown three extra heads and a beaver tail.

“You have to tell y/n,” Luna says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s shoulder. “You can’t lie to her about all of this.”

“I can’t tell her-” Mingyu tries to argue, but once more, his tongue gets caught.

“You will. And we’ll hang out again soon,” Luna insists, sounding so certain that for a moment, Mingyu wonders if she has the gift of future sight.

“Hey, you two,” you appear at Mingyu’s side, holding out a glass for the bride. “What did I miss?”

“Just your new boo being adorable,” Luna grins. “He’s a keeper, this one.”

“What?” You let out a laugh, looking between Mingyu and your best friend. “But… you usually hate the guys I go out with!”

“Well, I like Mingyu,” Luna shrugs. “Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”

With a lift of her glass, the witch goes to sit down with her husband again, leaving you and Mingyu shocked. As you head back to your table, you cling tight to his side. “What did you even say to her?” you whisper.

“I hardly said anything,” Mingyu admits.

“Was it an aura thing? Luna always says she can read auras-”

Mingyu nearly chokes on air and it makes you grip his arm tighter.

“It was an aura thing, wasn’t it?”

“Something like that.” Mingyu doesn’t want to get into auras with you. The witch had been pretty specific about him coming clean to you, but now is definitely not the right time.

He’s very lucky that when you take your seats, a few of your friends immediately strike up a conversation. Mingyu hides behind the discussion, staying in the peripheries while he contemplates what his life has become.

Eight - the time to come clean

If Mingyu had been obsessed with you before the wedding, things are now on an entire other level. After his run in with the witch, you’d invited Mingyu to come dance with you. Holding you close while a slow song played had made the cupid feel in a way he’s never felt. Then, when he’d taken you home, you’d kissed him at your door step.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips pressing across his own, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine you’re still there with him.

It’s been a distraction to say the least. Two days have gone by since that night, with you running through his mind like an olympic level track star.

You’d invited him to come for a date at your place, offered to cook dinner, and Mingyu’s been practically holding his breath in anticipation.

He fiddles with the string around his wrist as he approaches your home, knocking lightly on the door. His breathing is shallow, and he gnaws on his lower lip while he waits.

Mingyu can’t even help himself when you open your door, he pulls you into an immediate hug, breathing in your scent and letting out a deep breath.

“Hey, big guy,” you laugh, cuddling closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Missed you,” Mingyu admits.

Your giggling continues. “Luna was right about you being a keeper, mister softie.”

You invite him into your home, giving Mingyu a tour. It’s hard for him to keep his focus on anything you’re saying though. You look adorably comfortable in your cute sweatpant outfit. He’s never seen you laid back like this before, and it feels like an honour that you’re trusting enough of him now to let him witness this side of you.

Soon, he finds himself in your kitchen, doing everything he can to help you prep the meal.

If you’re the head chef, he’ll be your line cook, and be damned happy to do it.

Talking to you is just so easy these days, especially since Mingyu can monitor your aura to pick up on the topics that truly make your heart sing. He sticks to your hobbies, your friends, things that have you glowing. He enjoys when you ramble on, as it gives him a chance to stare at your lips and imagine them on his own once again.

After dinner, Mingyu treads carefully. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s in your home, and he’d never want to overstep anything with you.

When you invite him to watch a movie, he sits a respectable distance, but when you ask him if he wants to cuddle, Mingyu can feel his resolve getting thin.

He shuffles over to be the big spoon, watching you carefully get in position in front of him. You snuggle back, your bum brushing by the front of his blue jeans, and Mingyu’s breath catches. His hand finds your hip, keeping you still.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I just uh… it’s nothing.”

There’s a knowing in your eyes, and your aura glimmers with a mischievous tint that Mingyu usually sees with Soonyoung and Jeonghan.

You roll over, facing Mingyu. Your gaze dips to his lips then back up again. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s voice cracks. “Thinking about what?”

“That wedding date was really nice,” you muse, reaching up to trace your finger along his jaw. “I asked a lot of you when I invited you to that, but you came through for me. Luna even likes you, and I don’t think you understand how rare that is.”

“I’m more than willing to please,” Mingyu admits.

“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” You let out a giggle, your aura practically humming with happiness. “I’ve also been thinking about that kiss.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your grin widens, and you tuck in closer to his chest.

“Can I… do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Mingyu,” you coo, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The cupid takes in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek and staring into your eyes before he closes the distance between your lips. The first kiss had been soft, and this one is just as gentle, however, as you slant your mouth against his own, it begins to last much longer than the first one had.

You let out a small sigh, grabbing at the front of his shirt to drag yourself even closer. Your tongue darts out to lick at his lip and it makes Mingyu groan. His hand slips down to your hip, then the small of your back, pulling you the last few inches so you’re pressed to his chest.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

Mingyu’s spent his whole life matching humans, but now to be matched himself- there’s truly nothing like it in the whole world.

He gets lost in your lips, the way you let out more whimpers. He commits your sounds to memory, his fingers gently pressing at your skin. He’s doing his best not to be overbearing, he wants you to have all the control, and yet, he hopes it’s clear how much he wants you… how much he needs you, like the air he needs to breathe.

Luckily for Mingyu, you don’t mind taking a bit of control. With an annoyed groan, you move to straddle him, forcing Mingyu onto his back while your knees press into the couch on either side of his hips.

Your hands find his chest, and you stare down at him.

You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

Mingyu can hardly find his voice, but he manages to let out a choked, “Yeah.”

You lean down, pressing your lips against him again. Your tongue tastes his own, and as he’s leaning up to deepen the kiss, you pull away. Your hand finds his jaw, pushing his head to the side so you can access his throat, where you pepper his skin. You lick at sensitive spots that have him shivering, grabbing at the couch for any grip that can keep him from floating away from how good this feels.

Mingyu knows where this is going. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, which presses up against blue denim. He can even feel the heat between your own legs, an unspoken need that’s only building with each passing second.

His heart thunders in his chest. He hates to do it, but he whispers your name, prompting you to slow down your movements.

“Yes, Gyu?”

“I need…” he swallows thickly, closing his eyes in concentration. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is now the right time?” you giggle, licking his sweet spot and making a shiver run through his entire form.

“I can’t- I can’t do this without telling you everything about myself.”

“Sounds serious.” You pull away, sitting up so you can look down at him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m uh… really okay.” Mingyu does his best to steady his breathing, but with the view in front of him, it’s difficult. “I don’t even know how to tell you what I need to tell you.”

“Take your time,” you assure him, pressing your hand gently to his chest, palm over his heart. “I won’t judge you.”

“It’s not about judgment,” Mingyu sighs, placing his hand over your own. “I don’t know if you’ll even believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy or something.”

“Try me.”

Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a match maker.”

“Uh huh.”

“And that’s true- but… I didn’t tell you the extent of it.”

“The extent of it,” you repeat, and Mingyu can see you trying to figure out where he’s going with this.

“I really don’t know how to say this with you looking at me with your pretty eyes,” Mingyu groans.

“Here.” You lift your free hand, covering your face. “Is this easier?” your words are slightly muffled by your palm, and the goofiness of it immediately relaxes Mingyu.

“Actually, yes.” He can’t help but giggle, and you join in with him while he takes the moment to ground himself. “Okay so basically…” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I’m a cupid.”

“Huh?” You still have your hand over your face, but it’s clear you’ve furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Luna can verify it. She’s a real witch, which…I was honestly kind of shocked at, and I’m a cupid, so if you don’t believe me about this, I get it, I really do. Listen- I was trying to match you with someone, and I just couldn’t do it. Then a cupid I was training shot me while I was looking at you, and long story short, Luna has a connection to Venus or something and Venus thought it would be a good idea if one of her sons actually fell in love, and now here I am, and it’s a mess, but… yeah.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. Your aura flutters with mixed emotions, and it makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into knots about how you’ll react.

“Can I look at you?” you ask finally.

“Sure.”

You remove your hands from your eyes, gnawing on your lip and tilting your head while you study him. “I want to see your wings.”

“You what?”

“If you want me to believe you, I think I should see your wings. You’re a cupid, right? So you must have wings?”

Mingyu considers it a for a moment. He’s never shown a human his wings before, but he’s also never fallen in love with one either. He lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to be on top to show you.”

You’re quick to agree, and after a short shuffle, Mingyu finds himself kneeling between your thighs. You’re resting on your back, propped against a pillow, and you’re watching him carefully.

“I’m gonna take my shirt off,” he warns you, grabbing at the hem of his white v-neck.

You stay quiet, eyes taking in each inch of exposed skin as Mingyu slowly strips his torso bare.

“I should tell you… I’ve been in human form when I’m with you. But when I show you my wings- when I go full cupid, you might not be able to resist me.”

You rake your gaze across his sculpted chest, enjoying the tanned skin, pretty pectoral muscles and washboard abs. “I’ve hardly been able to resist you like this,” you muse. “Dazzle me, Mingyu. I’m ready.”

The cupid takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he lets go of the walls he’s built up. He allows his full self to come into form, his large white wings taking shape behind him. When he’s human, he kind of forgets about the wings, they’re always with him, just not always physical. Now that they’re out, he can feel the temperature of your apartment, the slight cool sensation against his sensitive feathers.

Mingyu can’t help but stretch the appendages, allowing his full wing span to protrude outward from his back.

He hears a small squeak of surprise that escapes your lips, and you sit up immediately, clearly wanting a better look at the marvelous wings.

“Are you sure you’re a cupid and not an angel?” you ask, your gaze meeting his as your fingers extend to hook in the waistline of his jeans.

“I can be anything you want me to be,” Mingyu whispers.

You lick your lips, eying his wings again. “Are they sensitive?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Can I… Can I touch?”

Mingyu stares at you for a second. No hands but his own have ever touched his wings. Cupid wings are sacred, like their bows and arrows. Mingyu doesn’t touch his brothers’ sacred things, and they don’t touch his.

But you’re not one of his brothers.

He slowly nods. He can’t find it within himself to give you a verbal confirmation, not when he holds his breath waiting for contact.

“I’ll be gentle,” you promise. It’s almost as if you can sense his hesitancy about this- although, from the tense way Mingyu’s holding his body, he supposes it’s no secret.

As one final show of trust, Mingyu adjusts his right wing, folding it around his body so you don’t have to reach so far. He watches you close the distance between your fingers and the white feathers.

When your digits make contact, a shiver runs through him. You’re quick to pull your hand away, eyes widening. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Mingyu shakes his head, catching his breath. “I just… no one has ever touched my wings.”

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you haven’t dated a lot.”

“I’ve never dated,” Mingyu corrects the white lie from when he’d first met you.

“Never?”

“Never,” the cupid confirms. “I’ve had… interactions with other immortals, but I never let them see my wings. You’re the first human to ever see me. Like this, and in all ways.”

Your aura beats with adoration for him, and the emotion written across your face doesn’t need to be said.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips press against yours.

Mingyu flattens a palm against the arm of your couch to steady himself, half leaning over your form while the kiss deepens.

You trail your hand from his neck to his shoulder, moving slowly and gently, another wordless communication.

When you touch his wing again, it’s not sudden, instead, it’s anticipated, and Mingyu can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him.

Your fingers glide over a feather, tracing it. When you repeat the motion, Mingyu thinks he might faint from how good it feels.

“Oh my Gods,” Mingyu whimpers, breaking the kiss to pant heavily against your neck while you trail your lips along his cheek bone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?”

“So good,” he admits, his jeans feeling painfully tight now.

It’s as if you can read him. As if he’s a book that you’ve memorized, dog earring your favourite things. Each touch has him enthralled by you, and each touch is perfection.

You drag your free hand along his chest, moving down-

His breath catches when you cup him through his jeans.

He must be as hard as a rock, and you trace the outline of his bulge, teasing your digits along the tip.

“Please-” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting of their own accord, looking for any friction he can find while you continue to stroke his wing.

“Tell me what you need,” you encourage him, applying more pressure to his cock.

“I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

“Then taste me,” you practically purr.

Mingyu’s had his fair share of one night stands with sirens and demi gods and other beings of the like- he knows what he’s doing as he gets off the couch and sinks to his knees.

He grabs at you, man handling you into a position that works for him before tugging off your sweat pants.

You release a giggle, leaning back against the couch cushions while he spreads your thighs. Mingyu looks up at you, meeting your gaze as he begins to kiss up your legs, taking his time to pepper your skin.

That pretty pink aura practically blinds him as he works his way closer and closer to where you need him most. He can see a wet patch along the fabric of your panties, and he can’t help but spread your legs open even more, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit through the silky material.

You let out a sigh of happiness as Mingyu begins to lick and prod your panty clad core. He can taste you along the fabric and it’s driving him insane.

His fingers squeeze your thighs, and he allows you to adjust one over his shoulder- then your toes brush past the base of his wing, causing him to moan loudly. You shiver from the vibrations of it, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He eats you through your panties until you’re bucking against his face- until his cock is throbbing so hard he physically can’t wait any longer.

Hooking his fingers in the fabric, he tugs your underwear down your legs, and then he’s burying his tongue in your core.

You release a squeal of delight, tightening your grip in his hair. You pull him even closer, wrapping your legs around his head as he licks your pussy like he’s never licked anything in his entire life.

The sounds you’re making now are better than all the angel songs Mingyu’s ever heard. He could listen to you whine and moan for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, just like that, oh my God- Gyu-”

He wraps his lips around your clit and you whimper, pussy beginning to throb in preparation for the orgasm Mingyu can’t wait to drag out of you.

Your fingers tug on his hair, and the pain only makes him go harder. He sucks hard on your sensitive bud, flicking at it and groaning at your taste.

Mingyu’s eaten fruit from the Garden of Eden. He’s eaten fairy nectar and every mystical delicacy he could get his hands on. But nothing - nothing - has ever tasted the way you do.

He could get drunk from your pussy- in fact, he already is.

His mind is going hazy, words are losing their meaning. It’s as animalistic as Mingyu’s ever felt, he has two goals: the first, to make you cum harder than you ever have, and the second, to do it again, but with his cock.

“I’m gonna-” you whimper, rutting against his face. “Please, don’t stop-”

Your sounds get pitchier and pitchier until you let out a gasp. Your pussy clenches around nothing while he sucks on your clit, intent on drawing out your orgasm.

You begin to squirm and he holds you down with both hands, eating you out until you’re a moaning, shaking mess.

When your grip loosens on his hair, he pulls away, looking up at you.

You’re an absolute vision. Your chest is heaving under your shirt, your lips puffy from kissing and biting. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back, body still twitching.

Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. He undoes his jeans, pausing for a moment before pushing them down. “Still want this?” he clarifies.

You open your eyes, looking up at him with the most fucked out expression he’s ever seen. “If you don’t fuck me, so help me God, I’ll get Luna to cast a spell on you.”

Mingyu can only laugh. “Like… a love spell?” Mingyu asks as he pushes his pants and underwear down. “Because trust me, nothing in the world could make me more into you than I already am.”

“Is that so?” you grin, pulling off your shirt to join him in nudity.

“Uh huh. Which is why I can’t fuck you on this couch.” Mingyu reaches down, scooping you up into his arms. “Which way’s the bedroom?”

“Last door on the left down the hall,” you sigh, tucking close to his chest.

You pepper his throat in kisses the entire way to your room, where Mingyu gently sets you onto the bed.

“Do we… should we use protection?” you ask.

Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I can conjure my bow and arrow-”

You let out a laugh, your aura glimmering with amusement. “No, silly, I mean like condoms.”

“Oh…” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Should we?”

“I mean… I’m on birth control…” you look him up and down. “Your magic cupid cock isn’t gonna outsmart the pill, is it?”

“That’s a good question.” Mingyu looks down at his rock hard length, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some of the pressure there.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You hold your arms open for him. “Just get inside of me.”

Mingyu laughs, getting onto the bed. He holds himself over you with an elbow pressed to the mattress, his free palm finding your abdomen. “I should work you open a little first,” he tells you, pressing his lips to your own.

“I don’t mind a little pain.” You reach for his cock, stroking the precum on the tip and tracing the length of it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mingyu admits. “Ever.”

You don’t respond, you simply kiss him deeper. Mingyu takes this as a confirmation to drag his fingers down to your core. He starts with his middle digit, teasingly pushing it in and out of your wet hole.

You pump his cock while he works you open, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge. He adds a second finger and you mewl desperately against his lips, hips rutting to match his pace.

You’re practically drenching his hand. At this point, he knows you could take him- he just wants to see how much you’ll allow before your beg for it.

Mingyu loves playing with you like this. He enjoys the act of love making, and he’s in no rush- although, his cock is starting to be something near painful with the amount of blood that has him standing at attention.

“Gyu…” you whimper, pumping him even harder.

It’s clear you’re about to beg- but he can’t stand to actually have you do it. He gives in immediately, pulling his fingers from your core. He brushes your hand away from his length, lining himself up with your pussy.

Mingyu presses his lips to yours as he pushes inside, moving slowly so you can adjust to inch after inch of his girthy cock.

You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, gently digging your nails into his skin. No matter how hard you try, Mingyu doubts you could actually draw blood, and what might be painful to a human is nothing more than an annoying tingle, but it’s hardly a distraction from the feeling of your pussy swollowing him up.

He can’t help the groans that leave him as he kisses you, finally flush with your body. Your walls throb around him, adjusting to the intrusion.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Please-”

He begins slowly. Mingyu’s not sure how fragile humans truly are, and he doesn’t want to fuck you so hard that your back breaks. Instead, he takes his time, adding more and more speed and power. He notes your reactions, notes what makes you squeal.

When he’s satisfied with a particular whimper, he stays doing what motion had earned the sound. The whole bed is rocking from his thrusts, and you’ve turned into a moaning mess for him again- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Shit, you’re so good-” you gasp, breaking the kiss to lick at his throat, circling his sweet spot while he fucks you into the mattress.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers as he fucks you. There’s something intimate about the hand holding- and when he looks up, he realizes it’s the hands that have red strings on their wrists.

However, as he fucks you even faster, he notices the strings aren’t simply their own bracelets anymore- they’re somehow intertwined.

Mingyu can’t bring himself to think about it too hard, not when your wriggling under him, your wet pussy engulfing him with each thrust-

Your free hand reaches around his back, fingers brushing over a feather, and Mingyu almost cums right then and there.

“Fuck-” he whimpers. “If you do that again, I’m gonna-”

“Cum with me,” you whisper. “Please, I’m so close- if you fill me up, I just know I’ll get there.”

You stroke another feather and Mingyu’s entire body twitches, his muscles tensing with pleasure.

“Please, Mingyu!”

You’re on the verge of tears, and when Mingyu looks down at you, he’s completely overtaken by how much you’re glowing. He’s never seen a human aura glow like yours- and now, you look absolutely godly beneath him.

One more stroke of his feathers has Mingyu groaning loudly. He buries his face in your neck, squeezing your hand as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as it can go. He can feel each heavy beat of his heart as he fills you with rope upon rope of cum-

Your pussy clenches tightly around him, and from the way you’re moaning in his ear, he knows you’ve reached your high too.

All you can do is hold each other, breathing each other in while you get lost in a pleasure that could never be topped.

He’s in love with you, body and soul.

Mingyu’s not sure how long he cums, all he knows is that he’s practically spent as he comes down from the high. He’s breathing heavily, you both are, and he stays on top of you while you ground yourselves again.

You begin to stroke the back of his neck, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to put some distance between your chests so he can get a good look at you.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Better than okay,” you muse with a lazy grin. “And Gyu?”

“Yeah?”

“As crazy as this is… I love you too.”

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize what you’re saying, because he hasn’t directly said those words- and yet, he’d betrayed himself multiple times without even realizing it. He’d mentioned getting shot with an arrow, Venus wanting a son to fall in love. He’d even said that no love potion could make his feelings stronger than they already are.

Mingyu had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even known that all of his walls had come crumbling down.

There’s no secret he’ll ever be able to keep from you, and that’s clear now.

But there’s no secret he’d ever want to keep from you.

You’re his other half. His pink aura baby. And staring down at you in the aftermaths of the best sex of his life, Mingyu knows that whatever happens, you’ll be his soulmate till the day he ceases to exist.

Nine - the note

Hi, gorgeous. I’m sorry you have to wake up alone. Duty calls. I’ve got council meetings this morning that I can’t miss. But we’re connected now. One tug on your red string and I’ll know you’re trying to connect. There’s no where in your world or mine that I could go where you can’t reach me. I love you. I’m here for the long run. If you want, I can see you tonight. Give the string three tugs anytime after noon, and I’ll be there faster than you can even imagine.

Hugs & kisses

Love,

Cupid

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all us Gyu obsessed hotties

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🔮 preview. You’re practically drooling as Mingyu shrugs the fabric off of his body, revealing a form that was literally sculpted by the Gods. You could stare at him forever and never get bored. He’s the sexiest person you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, earning a loud groan, you know that he’s all yours.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu loves pussy, oral (m/f receiving), big dick Mingyu, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, deep throating, face fucking, touching cupid wings as a sexual stimulus, female masturbation while giving a blow job, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, etc… I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. (his) big guy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s Valentine’s Day and you wake up alone, and yet, you don’t really mind.

In the few months you’ve been dating your Cupid, he’s stepped up his game when it comes to checking in on the matches he’s made. As he’s become closer with Luna, and heard her failed love story, Mingyu’s been increasingly diligent on all things human relations.

He’s left a note for you on your pillow, as he does every morning he has to work instead of waking up with you.

You read it with a smile, enjoying all the hearts he’s drawn across the lined paper.

You don’t mind spending the first part of your Valentine’s Day alone. Three rough tugs on the string around your wrist would draw your lover back, but you figure his job is important today of all days.

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#mingyu #mingyu smut #svthub #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #mingyu svt #svt mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu svt smut #svt mingyu smut #cupid mingyu

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

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Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted

Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader

Warning the full length fic will include the following: gang banging, dub-con / non-con, forced oral, forced orgasm, BDSM themes… which just means they aren’t easy on you whatsoever, humiliation, bukkake, outdoor sex, brain washing, etc etc etc

A/N: so I will say, this fic is going to be a darker one. I don’t think I’ve ever written like… full on non-con… honestly this fic will somehow lean towards dub-con anyways. Like let’s be honest, it’s gonna be a very morally gray fic. I mean we aren’t moral people let’s be real.

You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”

The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.

“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.

He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.

You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”

His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.

“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.

“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”

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mimicmimikyuwrites · 7 months

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The Sin of Lust - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You confide in Lucifer about just how unsatisfied your husband, Adam, is leaving you. Lucifer decides to show you a whole new, much more pleasurable side of things, a side that leaves you wanting even more of it.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Cheating (Reader is cheating on Adam w/ Lucifer), Side Adam x Reader, Religious themes, Religious guilt/shame, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Fingering, P in V sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, SMUT, MDNI, this shit is depraved in a good way 😊

Your favorite spot in the whole of Eden was a small clearing no different from the rest of the garden. It was hidden away just enough that your husband, Adam, didn't know of its existence; making it your little getaway spot. You'd come here often, especially on days like today; days where Adam was more annoying than usual.

It was your duty and sole reason for creation to serve him, and you were trying your best to show thanks to your Lord by fulfilling your purpose, but it was growing harder and harder every day. Adam wasn't a bad person at his core, but he was insufferable in more ways than one. He was arrogant, felt he was better than you simply because he had a dick, and constantly treated you like you were useless unless it came to sex.

Sex with your husband was okay, and that was all it was, just okay. It wasn't horrible, sometimes it felt nice, but Adam always left you unsatisfied; longing for something more that you couldn't identify. That's how it was last night, and that's how you were sure it'd be again today. That's why you retreated to where you were now.

You sat on the soft grass, basking in the comfortable silence that came with the lack of your husband's presence. All days were nice in Eden, but today was even more so; with the sun bathing you in the perfect amount of warmth and the melodic chirping of birds filling the air. You wished it could stay like this forever, but you knew all good things must eventually meet their end.

Sooner than later you'd have to return Adam, knowing that if you were gone too long he'd come looking for you. You were dreading it, to say the least. Maybe you could pretend to be sick tonight? Or maybe you could go to sleep early? Or maybe you—

"Adam's looking for you, y'know."

You turned your head toward the voice, spotting God's most beautiful angel himself: Lucifer. You had hoped you would see him. The Lord's angels weren't supposed to mingle with humans in the way Lucifer had always mingled with you; your meetings had always been a secret that you two kept under lock and key, both of you not wanting to know the outcome of his fellow angels, or your husband, catching you two.

"Lucifer!" You exclaimed happily, looking up at him as he hovered in the air, gorgeous ivory white wings holding him up. You opened your arms, and he came down, warmly embracing you. He tilted your chin up before pressing a loving kiss to your lips; it felt like it had been years since you last kissed him, even though it had merely been days.

"I missed you." He said, affectionately tucking back a stray lock of your hair. "Heaven's not the paradise it's supposed to be without you to be there with me." You smiled at his comment before the words he said earlier finally sunk in.

"Adam's looking for me? Fuck, I've been away too long." This was bad, really bad. You had never been gone long enough for Adam to go searching for you. He was going to ask questions, and you knew you couldn't answer them, at least not honestly.

"Don't worry, I 'helpfully' suggested he go in the opposite direction," Lucifer reassured you with an almost mischievous grin. Relief filled you, he had bought you more than enough time. "Thank you, Luci." You smiled, sitting back down on the grass, patting the spot next to you. Lucifer joined you, holding your hand in his after he had sat.

"I know you like your time away from Adam, but you've been away from him longer than usual. Is something bothering you? Did he do something...?" Lucifer questioned, voice soft and laced with concern. You nervously bit your lip, unsure of how to approach the topic without being too overwhelmingly blunt.

"I...." You began, pausing to take a deep breath, almost embarrassed by what you were going to say next. "I don't want to have sex with him, not today. Or ever." You admitted, shame filling you.

You were meant to fulfill your Husband's desires, it was why you were created. You already felt guilty about avoiding him today, along with your boundary-pushing relationship with Lucifer, so to finally verbalize how you had been feeling felt like you had just sinned in the worst way imaginable. You were failing to fulfill your sole reason for living.

"He leaves me unsatisfied, yearning for something more. I know it's selfish of me, I know it's downright sinful, but I wish that I could feel the same amount of pleasure Adam feels for just once in my life, even if its not needed for me to get pregnant." You refused to meet Lucifer's gaze. The angel had always been a good-intentioned rule-breaker, but at the end of the day, he was still an angel. One of the beings meant to carry out your creator's will, and your creator willed that you be submissive to your husband and birth his children.

Lucifer must be disgusted.

The last thing you expected was for him to begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone, something you weren't entirely unfamiliar with, just not from him. It was the same thing Adam did to signal he wanted you, albeit Adam's kisses were much more hurried and sloppier; nowhere near as delightful as Lucifer's.

"L-Lucifer..." You breathed out, letting him lay you down and begin kissing lower and lower, all the way until his head was at your thighs. He placed his hands on them, but before he did anything, he looked up at you. "May I?" He asked, catching you off guard.

"W–What?" You stuttered in response. Your only other experience was with Adam, and while he knew that 'no' meant 'no', he was certainly more commanding than Lucifer was being right now.

"I need to know that you want this," Lucifer explained, lightly kissing the outside of your thigh. "I'm not him. You don't need to feel pressured into anything. I want you to be the one who feels good for once, yeah?"

You hesitated. Kissing Lucifer was one thing, but this was another; there'd be no going back from this. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but at the same time your desire for the man who made you feel things your husband never could was quickly overtaking you. You didn't just want this, you craved it. You needed it.

"Show me, Lucifer," You finally said, giving in, spreading your legs for him. "Show me what I've been missing out on." Lucifer placed a kiss on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your wet sex, before diving in like an animal starved. The feeling of his tongue licking at your cunt ignited a newfound ecstasy within you, your legs beginning to quiver not too long into it.

Your hands gripped at the grass beneath you, only got him to grab them, leading them to his hair. You grabbed at it instictively, pulling at the locks, eliciting a low moan from him; the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.

"Lucifer!" You cried out, feeling him sucking on your clit. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the lewd noises escaping you; as if it would lessen the sin of the act you were committing. His mouth left your needy pussy, his fingers replacing it soon after.

"No no no," He cooed, using his free hand to uncover your mouth. "Let me hear those sweet sounds you're making. Let me know how good you feel." You threw your head back with a pleasured whine as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot deep within you that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck—Your mouth, use your mouth—" You gasped, pulling his head back down, guiding him to where you needed him most by tugging at his hair. His fingers continued to fuck into you while his tongue lapped at whatever it could, the angel becoming drunk on your taste. His hand left your cunt, joining his other hand in locking your thighs in place as your legs trembled from the sensation of him going down on you.

"Close—So fucking close! Don't stop!" You pleaded. The impending feeling of orgasm was something you had felt before, but never before had you reached its climax; at least not until now. With one more 'come hither' motion of your lover's fingers, you were cumming for the first time in your life, your toes curling and a primal noise leaving you. He helped you ride out the waves of your orgasm, licking at your drenched sex, drinking up the juices of your climax until you couldn't take anymore, pushing his head away in a desperate attempt to escape the growing overstimulation.

Lucifer pulled away, eyes half-lidded and filled with mixed satisfaction and lust, your slick covering the corners of his mouth and fingers. He made a show of licking it off, moaning at the taste as it reached his tongue.

You let a content sigh, coming down from the absolute ecstasy you had experienced just moments prior. The feeling of contentment didn't last for long as you saw the bulge in Lucifer's pants; a sight that reignited the desires you had started with. To say he had done a good job would've been an understatement, but after finally witnessing just how amazing sex could feel, you knew you needed more.

You crawled into his lap, straddling him as you kissed, tasting yourself on his lips. You grinded down on him, and he separated from the kiss to let out a small groan. You continued your movements, feeling his cock growing harder through the fabric of his pants.

"Wait," He told you, placing his hands on your forearms in a signal for you to stop. You halted your actions, eyes widened in worry, and a blush creeping onto your face; scared you may have done something wrong. Did he not want you...?

"Hey, relax," He soothed, rubbing your arms comfortingly, taking notice of how you tensed up. "Do you want this? You're not obligated to return the favor or anything like that." You nodded in response. It was true, you wanted him more than anything. "I need you, need you so much." You rubbed down against him once more. "I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me."

He smirked at your words, he had waited far too long to hear you say that. How many nights had he spent fucking into his hand, pretending it was your tight pussy, a hand clamped over his mouth so he wouldn't be caught by his fellow angels? To hear those words, so lewd and sinful, spill out of those perfect lips of yours sounded like music to his ears.

"I'm here to fulfill every single desire you have, honey." He purred, moving your hands down to the waistband of his pants. You pulled them down swiftly, his cock springing out. God, it was a sight to behold. You bit your lip, already imagining it inside of you; the leaky tip parting your folds, teasing you before finally thrusting in, the thickness of it stretching you out, and the length reaching that same sweet spot his fingers had touched earlier. It was everything you had ever wanted.

Your hands rested on his shoulders as he lined the tip up with your dripping cunt, giving you the honor of actually putting it in. You sunk down, sliding it in with ease. You moaned at the way he stretched you out, just as you imagined he would. His hands found your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, moans leaving you both.

You used him like you would a toy, something he had no problem with. You were lost in your own lust, focused purely on your pleasure; just the way Lucifer wanted it. There were no expectations placed on you except to put yourself first, to feel good for once. Lucifer wanted you to use him, and so you did.

"Fuck yes!" You cried, increasing your pace, the sound of skin on skin filling the air. Lucifer cursed, holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise. He moved one to your clit, rubbing at it, finding enjoyment in the way you threw your head back in ectasy at the combined sensations.

Your orgasm was sudden and caught you by surprise, your body trembling as it coursed through you. Your climax triggered his, and he spilled into you, warm cum filling you deep.

You pulled him in, lips finding his, pouring all of your love and passion for him into the kiss. You continued to kiss him sweetly as both of your orgasms subsided, enjoying the feeling of him still buried inside of you. That itch for more still resonated deep inside of you, and you were determined to satisfy it, even if it meant giving in to more and more of your sins.

Lucifer laid you down, lips never leaving yours as he began to move again; the same lustful urges having overtaken him as well. A second round turned into a third, and so on. You continued until you couldn't anymore, exhaustion being only what remained, and the day turning to night. All good things must come to an end, and eventually you bid Lucifer farewell.

Although you ended up bathing away the physical proof, your sin still remained as you returned to your husband.

"Where the FUCK have you been!?" Adam shouted upon seeing you, and you only ignored him, moving past the man and towards where you slept. Lucifer had awoken something within you, something equal parts liberating and devious. He had shown you a new world of possibilities, and you were more than ready to continue indulging in them.

The sins you had committed during your day were just the first of many, and you couldn't have been happier.

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honeykaes · 7 months

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to land and sea

neuvillette x adepti!reader II 2.7k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, yandere themes, adepti!reader, reader is from fontaine, monsterfucking, pool sex, biting, creampie, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, hurt/comfort, angst, cucking, non consensual voyeurism, mention of blood, fontaine story spoilers, unedited

synopsis: with lanturn rite finally done, you decide to go relax at luhua pool only to find your former lover you haven’t seen in centuries confused on what your doing there.

The end of Lanturn Rite always felt freeing to you. With fewer responsibilities of protecting the harbor from threats to ruin the event, you finally had an opportunity to use your time as you saw fit—and most importantly, get away from him for a little while.

You walked along Luhua Pools, letting your bare curl themselves in the soft sand. The area was desolate from humans and adepti alike, for now, only accompanied by an occasional singing sparrow or the soft ruffles of swaying trees. You always admired the pools. The blues and faint greens of the vibrant waters always reminded you of your former homeland.

Your eyes gazed at a sparrow beginning to flap its wings heading northwest beyond the large mountains of Liyue. Your eyes softened as your smile began to falter wondering if that bird would be headed towards Fontaine.

How long has it been since you were in that nation…at home? Was there still a home there for you?

You pull the robes of your attire, folding them up and placing them on the base of a nearby tree before picking one of the smaller pools and dipping into the waters. You shivered, your body trying to adjust to the temperature before letting your body completely submerge itself in the pool.

Would the cobblestone be the same? Would the food and culture be the same?

You knew how quickly humans adapted, even in Liyue. You had already heard and witnessed Fontaine’s technological feats during this Lanturn Rite. They were the nation now leading in technology, a far cry from how things used to be when you were there.

You wondered what happened to Furina.

…To Neuvillette.

“What became of you, Neuvillette…” you whispered to yourself. Your mind spiraled trying to remember his appearance from hundreds of years ago. Did he still keep that noble shape of his?

Did the reincarnation of the former dragon sovereign still have those lilac eyes of his that softened whenever he tucked a rainbow rose in your ear?

You dipped further in the water, blowing bubbles in the salty pool before sighing once more.

“I miss you…”

A few hours pass as sunset begins to settle. Golden hour begins brightly as its rays highlight your skin as you sway your arms admiring the ripples of the water.

Swoosh.

Your eyes dart up, looking around you to search for where that strange noise is coming from. Was it him? You didn’t exactly want to deal with your lord at the moment; you had plenty of time forced at his side for Lanturn Rite.

Your eyes whipped around scanning the land, but you didn’t see anything unusual. As you moved your gaze to the sea where the various pools resided you narrowed your eyes seeing a strange blue glowing coming from beneath the waters. It was moving fast, whatever this was, was an adept swimmer.

Before you summoned your weapon and left the pool to get your clothes, you gasped watching a head pop up from where the glowing was coming from. His hair was long and as white as snow, flowing behind him like a small river adorned with two stripes of blue. His skin was pale and dewy from the water, also illuminated in gold from the sunset.

Your eyes felt misty focusing on every curve of his face: his high cheekbones, his thin rosy lips. After all these years, he kept the same form.

“Neuvillette…” you called out. You couldn’t stop those words from leaving your mouth. His head slowly turned to meet yours, eyes widening in recognition as he looked at your form in the pool.

The two of you remained frozen, drinking up each other's appearance desperate to make sure each other's eyes were not playing tricks.

His gaze softened before he soon swam near you. Water clung to his suit as he descended up to the pool you rescinded in. He kneeled near the edge, leaning down to your size.

“It’s you right? (Y/n)...” he muttered before placing his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, chuckling as tears cascaded down your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved upwards as his thumb tenderly caressed you.

“I thought the usurpers would never allow my eyes to gaze upon yours again. I should have come to this nation much sooner,” Neuvillette whispered. You shook your head, hastily wiping your tears.

“What are you doing here anyway? How’s Furina?” you asked. Neuvillette’s eyes twinged in pain, a sad smile coaxed over him as clouds began to form blocking the golden light of the sun.

“ She…freed her people of their curse. The nation of Fontaine is thriving more than ever,” he replied. He turned his head away, smile faltering, recalling the months that still haunted him.

“...Furina did? I wish Egeria lived to see it. I’m sure Furina is as happy as ever—”

”...The cost was a part of her life. She destroyed her throne for her people. She is now just a human, set to age as all others do,” he admitted. Your gaze leaves his, looking down at your bare body.

“I see…” you trailed off. Your heart ached. You wondered if she still remembered you. Both she and Neuvillette had to go through such troubles alone. You wondered if they felt abandoned by you.

You take a deep breath trying to process everything. You were even sure if you’d be able to see Furina in her human lifetime.

”I hope she didn’t think I abandoned her before she passed. I hope you didn’t either. I left to try to find a solution to our problem, asking the other Archons for their help or ideas but…I ran into trouble as you can imagine,” you whispered. The softness in Neuvillette’s eyes hardened quickly momentarily.

“If you’re in Liyue, I’m guessing it has something to do with Morax?” he asked. You ball your fist tightly beneath the water, nails harpooning against your palm before sighing and letting it go.

“I was almost killed by these..abyssal beasts and their poison before he found me. Apparently, he was familiar with my work in Fontaine. He offered his help to save my life and give me a solution to Fontaine’s problem. In desperation, I agreed. I was forced to become one of his adepti by that contract,” you revealed.

Neuvillette sighed, anger coaxing his brows but he didn’t touch further on your life with Morax.

“Shouldn’t your contract be fulfilled now that Fontaine is saved?” Neuvillette asked. You clenched your jaw, slowly shaking your head.

“...No. Our contract had been written that he had to give me the solution. By not telling me himself, our contract is now fulfilled and I’m stuck subservient to him. I tried to go back to Fontaine but…”

You sighed, pressing your lips against his soft palm resting on your cheek. You missed his touch, it always calmed you in times of uncertainty. Neuvillette’s gaze softened once more as he leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

“I missed you more. Furina always said I looked happier whenever you were with me,” he replied. Your arms reached out, placing your hands on his cheeks. His eyes still had that same love and loneliness peeking through his long white eyelashes as you last saw them. He was the same as before…but yet different.

Whatever had happened in Fontaine had changed him.

You slowly leaned, pressing your lips against his own. The juxtaposition of the softness of his lips and the electricity igniting by his touch in your once barren veins was jarring; but yet it remained as slow and sensual, desperate to reclaim the hundreds of years they’ve been apart from.

At the moment, you two felt as though you were back in Fontaine 500 years ago, in a field of rainbow roses near the sea, promising each other everything was going to work out.

You leaned away feeling a sharp pain on your bottom lip and the taste of iron on your tongue. The haze in Neuvillette’s eyes lightened up, realizing his mistake as he tongue grazed one of his elongated canines. He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment.

“I apologize. It’s been a long time since I had these types of desires and affection,” he admitted. You smiled as your hands trailed down finding their way on his neckpiece, slowly taking it off.

“As have I,” you whispered. One by one, his articles of clothing that were soaked in seawater—adorned in the finest materials and jewels—fell onto the sand of the beach. In his nude form, he slowly dipped in the pool, joining you.

Your hands wandered through his body, admiring the sapphire scales that sometimes shined on his shoulders. As your hands gently glided on them, his body shuttered in response. He sucked a sharp breath in, feeling your hand grab his hardening cock, pumping gently.

His cock held unnatural bumps and ridges. As it grew thicker and longer in your palm, you could see the bluish tone beneath the water. This was one indication that he wasn’t human; he was the incarnation of the hydro dragon sovereign after all.

Neuvillette bit his lip hard, showing off the elongated fangs peeking through his lip. His thigh moved your leg as his hand dipped beneath the water to cup your cunt. A soft moan escaped from your lips feeling his long fingers rub between your folds before settling on your clit.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered out. It was a forgotten melody he had missed, your voice in that tone—it brought shivers throughout his body.

His other hand, grab your hand that was wrapped around his now pulsating cock before lifting it and placing it on his chest.

”I don’t want anyone else to take you away from me…” he whispered. Neuvillette leaned in once more, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before diving beneath the water of the pool. You paused, blinking to try to process what he was up to.

“Neuvillette what are you— Oh!” you yelped. You feel his tight grip on the globe of your ass and thigh. He widened your legs, admiring the view of your quivering hole beneath the glistening light above. He leaned in, opening his mouth wide, before taking a long stripe of your cunt.

”God, I miss this taste. I always went crazy going through my ruts without getting to taste you again,” he muttered but you couldn’t hear as all that came up to the surface was bubbles. His tongue swirls against your clit, sucking the nub hard as you can feel his nails beginning to elongate and prod at the skin he clung onto.

You squirmed under his touch, trying to grind your pelvis to get any bit of friction you could to satiate your desires. Neuvillette offered a tender kiss on your clit before smiling.

”I hope you can forgive me if I become too rough..” Neuvillette murmured.

He opened his mouth again, prodding his tongue out, and soon began to grow longer and thicker in size. Pressing itself at your entrance, his elongated tongue slowly sank inside of you— shuddering at the taste of your arousal mixed with the waters of the Luhua Pools.

Your hands grabbed at his now glowing antenna on top of his head as he groaned beneath you in response. He pumped his tongue inside of you, keeping your body in place, as you tried to squirm from his touch.

Moving his grip around, he moved one hand to toy with your clit. While he rubbed tight circles along the bundle of nerves, his tongue curled against your spongy walls. You grabbed a mound of your chest, arching your back as the muffled noises of his name came from above.

Your essences flooded his tongue as Neuvillette desperately drank every drop that gushed out of you. As he slipped his tongue out of you, he left your overstimulated clit with one more kiss before lifting his upper body to the surface. You leaned against his firm chest, catching your breath.

“Was that too much…?” he whispered, pressing another kiss on top of your head. You shook your head, breath heavy as you tried to come down from your high.

”No. I want more of you Neuvillette,” you whispered, gaze half-lidded looking up at him. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip as he leaned in with a soft smile.

”Then more you shall receive,” he replied. Neuvillette lifted your chin before capturing your lips once more.

Neuvillette hooked your leg up as his cock slid itself against your puffy folds. Your body trembled as his blueish tip grazed against your clit. He soon sank his cock inside of you slowly. As he sheathed himself deeper inside, you could feel the faint burn from your walls stretching out to accommodate his large size.

His lips peppered themselves throughout your chin and neck before he finally bottomed out. Letting your leg go, you quickly wrapped your legs around his thin waist as he reached deeper inside of you.

He lifted his head, leaning in close to let his nose graze yours.

“I don’t want this moment to ever end. I loved you then, I love you now. I always will,” he whispered. You two share another kiss before he begins to move. His hips rocked as the waves rippled in the pool to his pace.

One of his large hands found a way to your ass once more, gripping it tight as he rutted against you faster. You can feel his tip curve and nudge against your cervix.

As your head lulled to the side, focusing on the pleasure ripping through your body, Neuvillette gently grabbed your chin while grunting.

”Please don’t look away…I want to burn your expression into my mind…” he softly begged. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip, wiping the drool peaking out before you gently bit down the tip of it.

Your walls fluttered, squeezing against Neuvillette’s cock pulsating and thrusting inside of you. You feel his nails sinking into the spongy flesh of your ass.

”Neuvil…ette. Neuvill—ette. Neuvillette!” you stammered out. Your eyes shut tight in pleasure, as a whine left your lips. With an inhumane growl, Neuvillette buried his face into your neck, cock throbbing inside of you before his hips began to falter.

Tears pricked your eyes as you clung to him tighter, crying out his name. Your walls clamped down, quivering as you climaxed. Neuvillette struggled to continue, his ruts getting slower and sloppier.

With a few thrusts, he shuttered, holding you tight as he emptied himself inside of you. You could feel globs of his thick cum filling you up as he gently bucked inside of you, nursing himself from your high.

You kept your eyes closed. Sweat clung to your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Neuvillette lifted his head from the nape of your neck admiring your look. Just as he gently caressed your cheek, his eyes narrowed, noticing an odd sigil glowing that wasn’t there before.

A Geo sigil.

Neuvillette held you tight, shielding your form as he watched a man emerge from behind you in silence.

”I thought avoiding you would have been the best situation, but to think you’d find them…” the formerly known god as Morax murmured with a practiced saccharine smile on his face.

Neuvillette was thankful your back was to him. His golden eyes were slitted in pindrops and glowing in envy. He was trying to hold his anger back.

”The Usurper Morax, know this: I’m done with you all taking things that don’t belong to you,” Neuvillette stated, narrowing his eyes.

Zhongli simply put his hand behind himself, closing his eyes as he pondered Neuvillette’s words momentarily before a soft chuckle left his lips.

“And that’s where you're wrong. Although you control the notion of justice, I still have authority over contracts,” Zhongli replied. His eyes opened, much colder than before. The earth began to shake slightly—a warning of what he was still capable of.

“You got a taste of your desires. Now, you should head back to your newly settled nation. I don’t think after such conflicts, a war is what you would look to have. No?”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette scenarios #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader

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justaz · 8 months

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after magic is legalized, when merlin is bored he likes to just make various animals and lets them roam free. there’s a ton of cats and dogs and mice and frogs and birds and even a horse that one time (sorry leon) and so. many. butterflies. just around the castle

so arthur gets used to it and likes to pet all the cute and cuddly ones. BUT. merlin often likes to shapeshift and arthur will mistake him for one of the animals he’s created so it goes like

arthur, picking up the cat who was head butting his legs and rubbing his body all over him: cat! :o

merlin, purring in his arms and really laying on the charm:

arthur, absolutely enamored with the cat and thinking up names for him, he just can’t let this one go it’s too cute: what a cute kitty

merlin, in arthur’s arms, soaking up all the affection, purring louder than a motor (ahem what’s that?): *shifts back into human form* why thank you my lord. you’re not so bad yourself

arthur, annoyed: *drops merlin onto the ground* i want a new court sorcerer

#merlin (groaning on the ground): you LOVE me #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #merthur #shapeshifter merlin (?)#i guess #hc #headcanon #head canon

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lxkeee · 7 months

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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART FIVE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Depression and mentions of self h*rm.

Notes: Heads-up, this chapter is filled with the Caeles Family trauma/lore lmao.

PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX | NAVIGATION

Two angelic beings—currently in their human forms, sat across each other outside their garden, early morning sunlight streaming past the leaves of the large wisteria, they sat underneath the tree, a tea table in the middle with of course, a steaming and freshly brewed lavender tea and a platter of tea sandwiches to go with. The smell of roses and lavender is present around the garden as the sun rises through the horizon, calm and gentle cool breeze caressing their skins as they enjoy this peace and quiet. They are in the mortal realm at the moment, they didn't want heaven's ears to listen.

Xavier can be seen talking animatedly to his mother, his eyebrows furrowed as he did so, his hands moving around comically as he explained something to the older woman. [Y/n] sighs and nodded, bringing back the teacup into the table.

“So you're saying that Sera approved of this cleansing without the other's knowledge?” [y/n] asked with a small hum, bringing the teacup to her lips once more, pinky extended, she sipped her tea slowly before bringing the teacup back down to the table, making sure to use her pinky as a cushion to avoid making unnecessary noise.

She was awestruck, in disbelief by the information Xavier told her. Unacceptable. Sera's decision mocks the heavenly hierarchy, who is she to play God? Sure, God left her in charge as the higher being is off to who knows where but the reason God chose Sera is because the Seven Virtues were busy with work in the mortal realm. To think she made a major decision such as this without consulting the Seven virtues is unacceptable.

[Y/n] was bubbling in fury inside, as the angel of kindness, she can't imagine what the sinners are going through with the cleansing. Sera's decision is truly unacceptable. It felt like Sera didn't respect the status of the seven virtues and that is something she cannot allow. She worked so hard to be here, to where she is now. After Lucifer messed up and left an empty spot with the seven, she worked herself to the bone to fill that spot and is now one of the strongest and Sera couldn't even consult one single virtue to this decision. Blasphemy.

Xavier looked worried as he could tell that his mother is beyond pissed despite the gentle and calm look on her face, but he knows her. He could tell just by how tense her shoulders are, how deep the exhale she let out or the way her left eye twitched.

“I am glad you told me, I'll request a meeting with the others soon but I doubt it'll happen immediately as everyone is busy here on earth.” [y/n] sighs, picking up a small tuna sandwich and taking a bite of it. Xavier nodded as he took a sip of his own tea, nodding at her.

“I couldn't let Sera get away with this, after all.” He answered, looking away from his mother and to gaze at the garden. [Y/n] chuckles, her eyes darkened a bit as she follows where Xavier is looking—at the mini pond of the garden, two ducks and two swans swimming around. Surprisingly, a duck and swan were playing with each other. It brought a smile to [y/n]'s face, remembering the times she and Lucifer would play together in the skies, laughing and giggling. Times were easy and peaceful before. Oh how she wished she could turn back time.

Xavier's eyes narrowed slightly as he watches the two birds swimming around. A sigh escaping his lips before turning back to look at his mother once more.

“What do you want me to do for the time being?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, [y/n] smiled as she looked at her son, he grew up so fast. Proud of how far he came in life, though, she still felt a little guilt and sadness within her as she remembers how she neglected him during his toddler years, she was far too depressed that just one look at her son she would spiral into depression as Xavier bears so much resemblance to Lucifer. Her negligence to Xavier caused the boy to hate his looks so much to the point he tried to carve out his face with his weapon, thankfully Azrael was there to stop him and it served as a wake up call to her and realized how her actions affected Xavier so much. It took awhile and lots of therapy for her to finally face her son without having a mental breakdown and she apologized to the boy over and over again for the horrible things she had done and it took some serious therapy for Xavier too to accept his face—though, he hasn't fully accepted it but it isn't as worse as before.

[Y/n] sighs softly, shaking away the depressing memories. She's healing now and finally getting better, she doesn't need to look back at the negative memories. She smiled at Xavier, a look of adoration in her eyes, proud of her son for all the things he did for her. Her pride and joy.

Placing her hands on her lap, she gave him a small nod, “Just continue doing your duties, I'll take care of the rest, hmm?” she suggested with a smile and Xavier nodded, “Alright, I'll leave you to deal with it mother.” he says and [y/n] hummed in agreement.

[Y/n] took out her phone, typing something. Her fingers danced across the screen as she pressed the letters.

You: @everyone, when will you guys be available for a meeting? Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Uriel

Michael: I won't be available for a couple days, I am unsure about the others. Why? Did something happen? Seen by [Y/n], Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel

Azrael: Did someone mess up? lmao Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Camuel: It's rare for you to actually summon us for once @Y/n Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel, Jophiel, [Y/n]

You: I am requesting for a meeting as a certain Seraphim left in charge is currently playing God. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Gabriel: What the fuck? Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael

Azrael: Hey, watch your fucking language ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel

Uriel: Well... That is certainly news.. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: Indeed. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Uriel, Azrael

Michael: We'll have a meeting in a week, all of us are far too busy at the moment. Thank you for telling us, [n/n]. Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Michael: Is the schedule fine with you guys? @everyone Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael

Jophiel: The schedule is fine, I guess I'll meet you guys soon. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Azrael and everyone heart reacted to his message

[Y/n] turns off her phone and slips it back to her pocket, Xavier looks at her with a raised eyebrow, “So...?”

[Y/n] chuckles a bit, “I already told them and we'll have a meeting in a week or so. We'll handle it, don't worry.” she says, sipping her tea. “I am sure Michael will do something about it.”

“That meeting certainly didn't go well for me.” [y/n] muttered in annoyance as she left the office of the Seven. They just finished holding the meeting and Michael thought it was a good idea to make her take care of it, Azrael offered to help her but he has his own plate of responsibilities to finish, he is the angel of death after all. “Why did I have to lose the rock-paper-scissors?!” she whined to herself, pouting slightly.

She looked down upon her hands to see it shaking and pale, she's scared of going down there, she's afraid of what'll happen to her if she ever sees Lucifer again.

Contrary to popular beliefs, [y/n] doesn't consider Lucifer her ex-husband, no divorce ever happened and even after all the pain she went through, she remained loyal and always acted upon her vows to him even if he wasn't here in heaven with her.

Her eyes landed on the gold metal band around her ring finger, the very ring that Lucifer slipped into her hand when they got married. She didn't have the power or the courage to remove it.

She won't remove it unless Lucifer actually tells her to, unless Lucifer says it to her face that he no longer loves her or needs her.

She'll let him go willingly once he tells her all those things. But for now, she'll hold on. No matter how bruised and wounded her hands are, she'll hold on. She hopes that they will be a complete family one day, heck, even Charlotte can join. She'll treat the girl like her own daughter. She just wants her family complete, is that too much to ask for?

She dreams to give her son the father he deserves, Xavier didn't say it but as his mother she can tell how envious the boy is when he looks at other families. The longing look in his eyes, he's jealous that Charlie had the father—the very same father that left him for another family.

Her steps faltered as she finally arrived at her own office, opening the door and quickly got inside and locking it. Her back pressed against the door, her body getting heavier as she slid down to the floor.

Looking up at the ceiling, the ceiling of her office, the chandelier with apple and duck crystals hanging from it—she commissioned it in memory of Lucifer.

“Some people long for a life that is simple and planned”

She softly sang, standing up from the floor, her eyes softening as she gazed outside the window of her office.

“Tied with a ribbon

Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land

To follow what's written”

She sang softly, her feet gracefully bringing her across the room, reaching to her desk. Her hand opened the cabinet of her desk, grabbing a small black box. Opening it to see a gold necklace with a pink crystal heart pendant. Sighing before closing the box once more and returning it back to the drawer.

“But I'd follow you to the great unknown

Off to a world we call our own”

She says softly, her eyes downcast as her voice became significantly lower. [Y/n] remembers Lucifer giving her the necklace for their first anniversary.

“Hand in my hand

And we promised to never let go”

A tear streamed down her cheek, remembering the promises they've made for each other. The room was tinted pink from the rays of the setting sun, shadows casting into her dull office.

“We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

The memories of them flying together in the skies, laughing and joking with each other.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, never know how far we could fall”

Lucifer catching her when her wings gave out.

“But it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you”

Despite fearing for her life, she trusted him to catch her always when she falls.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her steps light as a feather, graceful as she dances as if Lucifer is there with her. Slow dancing in her office like he's with her.

“Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between

Desert and ocean”

They promised to never let go of each other regardless of what comes in-between them.

“You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream

Always in motion”

She listened to all of his hopes and dreams of the future, future of the world and his future with her.

“So I risk it all just to be with you

And I risk it all for this life we choose”

She knew what she was getting into when she dated him, he was the most beautiful angel of all of creation. Many wanted him but she trusted him to only want her.

“Hand in my hand

And you promised to never let go

We're walking a tightrope

High in the sky

We can see the whole world down below”

With a flex of her wrists, golden dusts of her power came of her hands, forming a faux Lucifer. She still remembers what he looked like. The Lucifer made of golden dust smiled at her, holding her body close as they waltzed across the room.

“We're walking a tightrope

Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”

[Y/n] was crying softly, Lucifer wipes away her tears with his thumb, leaving specks of golden dust in her cheeks. Lucifer twirls her and dips her, effortlessly catching her. He pulls her up to allow her to stand.

With a sad smile, [y/n] waves her hand and the Lucifer made of golden dust gently disappears like a dust in the wind. [Y/n] extending her hand, as if to stop the love of her life from disappearing once more. Even if it was just something she conjured up with her powers.

“Well, it's all an adventure

That comes with a breathtaking view

Walking a tightrope

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you, ooh, ooh, ooh

With you.”

[Y/n] grabbed her handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing the fabric onto her eyes. No matter how much she tries to dry her eyes, tears never seem to stop falling.

“After all these years, I am still a mess without you.” she whispers, eyes gazing outside the window of her office, the sunlight shining down on her like the universe is listening to her anguish. She grips the fabric of her dress, on where her heart is beating and aching.

“What happened to death do us apart? Why did you leave me Lucifer? WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!” She asked, screaming in anguish and as always, no answer to her questions.

“I need you, Lucifer... I still do...” she whispers, defeated as she dragged her emotionally heavy body to her office chair, slumping down with a loud and choked out sob.

With shaky breaths and trembling hands. She calms herself down, calming herself down. She still has work to do.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

#hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne

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vavoom-sorted-art · 9 months

Text

Sleight Of Hand - Chapter 1: The Pledge

@moonyinpisces and I proudly present Chapter 1 of “Sleight Of Hand”: The Pledge!

Read on Ao3 (with extra Comic pages!)

Early release of comic pages as well as sketches and uncensored Versions on my Patreon.

---

“It’s our last night on Earth,” Crowley says, voice wrung together in chapped, rusted parts. “Six thousand years of this. Of never– of not getting to– *eurgh!”* Uncaring of the styling, Crowley runs frantic hands through his hair, mussing it up in tight, torturous fists. “Six thousand years. And it’s a bloody *photograph* that does us in.”

His eyes are golden, molten in the warm, ambient light. The pulse at his long, taut neck is fluttering like a trapped bird, the skin there thin, delicate. “Hm,” Aziraphale says distractedly, without thinking too much of it. “I’d always thought it would’ve been what we’d got up to at Job’s.”

Crowley zeroes in on Aziraphale, at that point. All of this has been musings to himself, of attacks towards nobody in particular. Perhaps God. Most likely God. But now he’s not looking at God, and he’s looking at Aziraphale instead. It sets Aziraphale on edge, prickles the angelic sense at the back of his neck. It quickens his pulse, settles the heat of his body decidedly southward. But more than that, perhaps most of all; it makes Aziraphale be as reminded of Crowley’s human body as he is of his own, at this exact moment.

The demon takes a step forward. Aziraphale, a stuttered step back. His fingers are curled into the top of his opposite sleeve, tips brushing the edge of the polaroid he’d nearly grabbed.

“Calm down, Crowley,” he says waveringly.

“Calm *down?*” Crowley repeats quietly, dangerously. He’s looking Aziraphale in the eye, now. He’s looking nowhere else.

Another step. Forward, back. Aziraphale licks his lips.

“It’s all going to be alright, my dear boy,” he tries. He clears his throat, shifts his fingers further into his sleeve. “You see–”

He’s cut off. Quick as a flash, Crowley’s gripping him around the shoulders, shoves him back so his arse is pressed to the lip of the vanity, the lit-up mirror alighting him from behind. Aziraphale’s arms draw up around the demon’s shoulders in surprise. There’s nowhere else to go, no more steps to take. The look in Crowley’s eye speaks of a hunger all-too-familiar to Aziraphale. Reminiscent of meat, of basements, of languishing drunkenly at the end of another man’s Earth. Behind Crowley’s head, Aziraphale has the photograph clenched in one hand.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers.

“Don’t–” Crowley’s expression is fierce, desperate. “Don’t say *anything–*”

Aziraphale opens his mouth to say something else.

*“Angel.”* Crowley makes a desperate sort of sound, and then their lips are pressed together, and Aziraphale freezes altogether.

---

Keep reading

#ineffable smut war #good omens #good omens fanart #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #art #ineffable husbands #goodomens #good omens fic #good omens art #vavoom smut war #vavoomcomic #Sleight of Hand #vavoomart

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sprout-fics · 2 months

Text

Yarrow in Bloom

(Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Wordcount: 13.5k Tags: Angst, Fluff, Female Reader, Flashbacks, Blood/Injury, Vaginal sex, Slowburn, Hurt/Comfort, Happy ending, The only thing I'll write for RDR2 I swear, (doesn't post for months, drops 13k, leaves)

Summary: You lose him. He finds you. Despite everything, you still love him.

The sun sets quickly north of Annesburg, golden resplendent twilight of the mountains soaking your lonely mountain cabin in long shadows of citrine and amber where the evening wind sweeps through the aging firs. The old creak of wood floorboards under your feet is a familiar echo to the solitude of your existence, here on the fringes of the rapidly dwindling frontier you call home. The logs in your fireplace crack, the stew inside offering a slow simmer of venison and wild carrots that curls through the air of the cabin in a beckoning whisper.

You ignore it, instead standing by the window and watching the long shadows of autumn dance through the clearing outside. Quiet, you listen to the bird calls of a wilderness tamed by human hands.

There’s something about evenings like this that invoke memories of the past, have them wrap their slender arms around your shoulders and murmur through your thoughts with the aching sound of regret, of a hope since lost.

It’s in your reverie you spot the shadow that flickers through the underbrush.

Your heart doesn’t hammer as you set down the tin cup in your hands, gently deposit the shawl from your shoulders on the back of your chair. Rather, it’s with practiced ease that you reach for the rifle next to your door, slinking against the wall next to the window and carefully peering outside to watch the creeping intruder who dares to sneak up on your isolated homestead.

It’s minutes before he emerges, slowly, like a panther creeping through the brush. All muscle and subtle movement, crouched low and placing every footstep carefully, deliberately against the fir needle earth. There’s a kerchief drawn up over his mouth and nose, a tightness to his shoulder that speaks less of rigidity and more of decades of experience, a life hard lived and a youth far gone. He moves quickly, silently, moving from the underbrush to the side of your stable, and from there you watch him peek his head out from behind the corner.

Then, he lifts his eyes to the fading light.

and you know.

Like the thunderclap of gunfire, the air in your chest is punched from your lungs in one solid exhale, legs weakening as the ghosts of years past stalk and whisper at the surface of your mournful soul. In your memories the blue of his eyes sparkles like the sky over the Heartlands, a cloudless joy of something hopeful, intangible, looking ever west towards a distant future he holds cupped in his palms.

The front door of your cabin creaks loudly as you step outside, your voice carrying like a clarion across the clearing.

“Are you here to rob me, Arthur Morgan?”

- - -

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

You eye Hosea uneasily as he sits next to you at the saloon in Armadillo, where the dry desert heat bakes the back of your neck and the sun carves scorching paths into the dusty ground outside. The cash from the bounty you turned in but an hour ago burns in your pocket- a fact not unnoticed by the gunslinger beside you with gray dotting his temples.

Still, he’d been kind enough to buy you a drink upon spotting you, and rather than arouse suspicion you accepted his offer of conversation with the both of you seated towards the back of the saloon. He’d told you of his travels, sparse in details in a way you’d come to recognize from conmen. Yet underneath there lay a sincerity, a gleam in his eyes that spoke less of sinister intentions and more of genuine curiosity.

“That so.” You drawl, finishing the warm beer in your hand and setting it back on the table with a thunk. Hosea huffs a laugh at you, bemused if anything else, but makes a low hum of assent anyways.

“I’ll compensate you for your time, of course.” He goes on, eyes remaining focused on you even as you avoid his gaze. “Simply to hear us out. If you decide you’re not interested, then at least I have had the pleasant experience of your company.”

Spinning a yarn. Silver tongue. A viper hidden in the underbrush.

You open your mouth to say you aren’t interested when the saloon doors swing open and Hosea sits up to regard the newest guests.

“There they are!” He crows triumphantly, beckoning over the two men who catch sight of their companion instantly- pausing to eye you over from a distance with an equal amount of suspicion. “Gentlemen, come meet my new friend here.”

The older one, a man with slicked back, jet hair and a curling smile is the first to speak.

“Hosea.” He greets before turning his attention to you. “and...?”

His smile only broadens when you mumble your name, and for some reason it reminds you of a wolf lingering at the edge of a campfire. Hungry. Watching.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” He offers smoothly, easing into the seat on your other side even as the younger man behind him lingers, standing. “Arthur, take a seat.”

It’s only then that you turn your attention towards him, pausing, blinking as you catch sight of his glinting steel gaze. He’s young. Slightly younger than you, perhaps. Yet there’s a set to his jaw that speaks less of boyishness and more of persistence, a stubbornness that comes with youth as much as it comes with the lives you both lead.

He’s handsome.

“Arthur Morgan.” He tells you, voice firm but eyes locked on yours. Unblinking. Blue like a Sunday morning where the missionary church bells ring.

- - -

“I’ll be damned.”

Arthur lowers the kerchief from his face as he stands from the bushes, hands above his head and holding his pistol in an open grip. He doesn’t seem to look at the rifle in your hands, looking past its sight with wide eyed, astonished wonder at your face.

When he says your name, it feels like the first time.

Your chest aches.

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure if you can. What do you say to someone you lost? Someone you loved, only for them to leave?

When Arthur looks at you, his eyes are sad. You watch his lips part, words forming on his tongue, before his jaw flexes shut and he decides against it.

The setting sun catches on his hair. You remember the sensation of it between your fingers when you kissed him.

You lower the gun. There’s a scrape in your throat when you speak.

“You can hitch your horse inside the stable there.” You offer quietly, turning so he can’t see the bitterness in your eyes. “There’s...soup on the stove.”

You feel his eyes burn into your back as you turn away, leaving the door open behind you and waiting just inside. There’s a moment where you think maybe he’ll go back the way he came, will mount his horse and ride off into the setting sun the way he did all those years ago. Maybe that will be the end of your story, maybe then your ghosts will be put to rest.

There’s a whistle as he calls for his mare, a jangle of reins as he leads it to the barn.

You swallow the sob in your throat.

- - -

It’s late. Midnight engulfs the camp seated outside Armadillo, where the endless expanse of stars glimmers above the dark desert. The distant, pale light of the moon rises over distant bluffs just as coyotes raise their wayward cries towards the open skies. You’ve never had a home, not truly. On nights like this, it feels pretty damn close.

The firelight dances against your features as you sit at the scout fire, crackling low as cottonwood smoke curls upwards. You huddle under your jacket, the night breeze slithering across your nape as you idly read the book before you. The pages are frayed, torn at the edges with dog-ears that speak of the years spent lost in the words between.

Across from you sits Arthur. Watching. Contemplating. Neither of you lax enough to sleep in each other’s presence just yet. Gazes glinting, shoulders stiff- two wild animals at the same watering hole, waiting for the other to give an excuse to bare your fangs. You hear the howl of wild creatures in his flinty stare.

You try to ignore his eyes on you, but given that everyone else is asleep you find yourself unable to tolerate his terse silence for long.

“What?” You sigh at last, closing your book to scowl at him. Arthur only shrugs noncommittally.

“Nothin’.” He grumbles back despite his crossed arms, and avoids your eyes as they lock on him. It’s strangely petulant, his jaw set tight despite his feigned nonchalance.

In the silence that follows, you spot the journal by his side.

Your eyes flick to his fingers tapping on the inside of his elbow, and inwardly you feel something clever curl inside your stomach.

“Is that a journal?” You ask, watching him stiffen imperceptibly. Yet his eyes glance at you, glinting from the flames.

“...Somethin’ like that.”

You feel a smile tug at the corner of your mouth, bending towards your saddlebag beside you to withdraw a worn, leather-bound notebook. When you look back at Arthur, he’s leaning forward with interest.

“Funny.” You offer, and rather than display your notebook’s contents you lean back smugly and begin to write to yourself, enjoying the look of perplexity that flashes across his features.

“Are you...writing about me?” He asks, baffled.

“Mhm.” You chirp pleasantly. “All the horrible, nasty things I thought when I first laid eyes on you, Morgan.”

He barks a laugh loud enough to make you jump, and it sounds like the howl of coyotes singing to the moon.

- - -

The door creaks as he stands on the threshold, and the autumn air sweeps inside to tickle the flames in the hearth. You stand before it, quiet, faced away from him so he can’t see the heartache in your eyes.

There’s words on your tongue that you refuse to speak. Anger, betrayal, hurt, and most of all heartache. You want to go to him, to fold into his chest and beg to know why. The cold, bitter wind of growing winter has frosted over your heart long ago when you made a vow to live the life you always wanted- a life of peace.

You only thought maybe it would have been with him.

When he says your name again, it feels like an arrow piercing your soul. You remember the way he whispered it against your skin, the way he bellowed it amidst a hail of gunfire, the way he spoke it against your lips like the confession of a sin.

“You must be hungry.” and oh how you hate the way your voice trembles, the way your hands shake as you fetch him a plate. He stands unmoved, as if torn between staying and retreating. You feel it the same inside you. Begging him to remain, to give you just a few more minutes of his presence in hopes you can once more feel his love for you. Chasing him away, screaming, crying, the wild animal he loves in you, saying goodbye for the final time even though you know it will break you.

Yet when you look at him at last, when you look into those beloved blue eyes, you see the pain there, the regret, and you know.

He loves you even now.

- - -

“You can do better than that, Morgan, c’mon!”

Your knife finds the tree trunk just as John hollers from his seat behind you two, Hosea and Dutch leaning not far from him. If you were to turn, you’d see the broad smile on his sunburnt face shaded by his hat.

Arthur ignores him pointedly, focusing instead on the ‘WANTED’ poster of his likeness pinned to the tree in front of you both. Two of your own blades stick from it, while only one of Arthur’s lodges itself near the bottom.

“He’s right, Arthur.” Hosea calls, lifting his coffee back to his lips. “Don’t take it easy on her.”

“I’m not!” Arthur snaps back over his shoulder, before turning and throwing his knife, only for the handle to bounce off the trunk. Behind him, John whistles.

“Gettin’ sloppy Morgan.”

“Says the man who can’t keep it in his pants.” Arthur grumbles lowly beside you, and you laugh before raising your own blade once more and throw your blade forward with devastating accuracy- landing square between his eyes on the poster. Dutch’s laughter erupts behind you.

“If I hadn’t known better, I’d say you had a vendetta against our sharpshooter here.”

You twirl another blade in your grip, shooting a cat-like grin to the outlaw beside you, who levies an even gaze at you. You can see his eyes sparkle. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest.

“Y’know Dutch? I’m inclined to agree with you.” Arthur voices, and this time his knife finds a notch just behind his throat.

“There we go!” John shouts, leaning forward in his seat. “Didn’t think you’d let a girl beat you, Arthur.”

This time, your knife lodges itself into the earth at his feet, and John yelps and curses before looking down towards the dirt. A scorpion lays pinned under your blade, inches away from his boot.

Dutch explodes into laughter behind him, clapping loudly enough to make the horses startle.

You grin at Arthur, who dips his head respectfully. Even then, you see the mischief playing on his lips.

Distantly, you wonder what they would feel like against your own.

- - -

There’s silence as you both sit at your table.

What words are there to say? How do you say ‘I still love you’ to the person you lost, to the person you have said goodbye to? All these years you’ve done your best to forget him, to start anew, to convince yourself Arthur was dead and to mourn him. Even when you’d seen news of the gang in the papers you’d told yourself Arthur was not among them, that he was out west where he belonged, to the place where he always felt free.

Arthur sits with his hands folded, head tilted down so you can’t see his eyes past the brim of his hat. He’s less clean shaven now, rugged and older in a way that becomes him. Handsome still, you think with your chest aching. Hollow, just like the life you once led.

“I thought...” He says at last, voice tight, refusing to look you in the eyes.

You remember that night on the mountain, in the forest. You remember the smell of blood, the pain, the tears and the barest whisper of your voice when you called for him.

He looks at you at last, eyes sad.

You remember when he left you.

- - -

He catches you at the riverbank at dawn.

You sneak away from camp before sunrise, tiptoeing past the scout campfire and down the hill towards the river before anyone else can wake. The water is still, tenebrous and velvet as you slip bare into the gentle current, shivering as your arms wrap around your naked form. Smoothed pebbles knock against your feet as you wade deeper, soap in hand as you try to accustom yourself to the chill.

You vanish under the water for a moment, holding your breath down in the dark, liquid silence as the water closes in overhead. For a moment you’re buoyed gently by the river that washes over your limbs with a tender grazing touch, your heartbeat the only melody to your quiet existence. You emerge only a moment later with a gasp, shivering and hugging your arms tight around yourself to retain a fraction of warmth.

You rub your eyes clear of water, glancing back to the shore-

and find Arthur staring back at you.

The scream that erupts your throat is silenced by your own hand, and in a flash you vanish back up to your chin, ignoring the cold water and staring venomously at the gunslinger who immediately coughs and averts his eyes.

“Heard uh...uh commotion.” He tried to justify, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the scout campfire where he’d been dozing. “Thought maybe-”

“-That you’d what? Come sneak a peek?” You snarl, and you expect him to flinch, to bow his head, to look even mildly ashamed. Instead, Arthur smiles.

“Only if you’re offering.”

You feel your face warm, and quickly you send a splash of water that falls just short of his feet.

“Woah there.” He chuckles, holding up his hands placatingly. “I thought maybe some bandit was tryin’ to steal you off. Didn’ expect to find myself a mermaid.”

You snort. “What, you thought you’d come and rescue me?”

“Depends. You need rescuing?”

“Do I look like I need rescuing?”

Arthur’s smile tugs further at his mouth. “Not necessarily.”

“Then piss off, Arthur.”

Arthur huffs a laugh, and in doing so he shows his teeth. A coyote baring its fangs.

“Pardon me then, ma’am.”

You glower at him as he retreats a short distance, posting up by a tree nearby before lighting a cigarette. The match flame dances across his rugged features.

“What are you doing?”

Arthur doesn’t glance back at you, but flicks the match off into the bushes. “Still bandits about. Can’t have them stealing one of our best shooters bare-ass naked.”

You huff. “I think bandits are the least of my concern.”

Arthur puffs on his cigarette. “Course not, not while I’m here.”

“That’s my point.”

You can see the grin tug at his mouth, but he doesn’t answer, doesn’t turn. Eventually, when he doesn’t go away, you’re forced to go back to scrubbing, never once letting your eyes dart away from him. Yet when you dunk underwater once again to rinse the rest of your suds away and surface once more...

He’s gone.

- - -

“The others?” You ask, voice hoarse, and Arthur flexes his jaw. There’s an apology, or something akin to it building on his lips. You aren’t ready.

“We...lost some a few weeks back.” He begins. “We had a job in Blackwater that...”

You know how it goes. Dutch’s ambition was too great for his execution. You knew there would come a day when the gods of fortune would disown him. You never knew why he couldn’t see it, too blind, loyal to a fault.

“Pinkertons chased us over the mountains. Somewhere along the way we lost Davey and Jenny.”

You close your eyes at that. You’d liked Jenny, for the scant amount of time you’d spent with her in the gang. She was a sweet girl, too soft for the life you had lived then.

“John?” You ask quietly. Arthur pauses before he huffs a mirthless laugh.

“Bastard nearly got himself eaten by wolves. He’s alive. You should have seen the way Abigail tore into him. For a minute I thought it would have been better to leave him out there.”

You smile at that, the first smile you’ve had for a long time.

“Hosea is gettin’ on, but he’s as whip smart as ever.” Arthur goes on, and you see the tension begin to unspool from his shoulders. The love he has for his family is real, his loyalty to them more sacred than anything else.

Even you.

“and Jack- he’s growing so fast. He was just a baby when-”

He stops. Dares not echo the sin he’s committed. You don’t look away from him, refuse to break away from his blue eyes. The truth of the past, of what he did, of the oath he broke to you is etched across your face, in the bitterness in your eyes.

You wonder if he went back, if he would do it all over again. If he would leave you for this life of his, if he would break his promise to you one more time. This life of his, the life that was once yours, so full of violence and pain that in the end it left you alone, dying and wishing for him to return to you, begging God for the moment where he would kiss you once more.

You suppose, in the end, it was how it was supposed to be.

- - -

Whiskey stings against your tongue, the bite of it like teeth against the soft flesh of your throat. It feels like wood smoke and embers, a bite of rawness that your savor just like the untamed wilderness you’ve come to imbue inside your soul. You’ve yet to fully scrub the blood from your jacket, and if anything it adds to the flavor of violence, of brutality that marks the nature of this life you lead.

Yet Arthur’s laughter beside you fills the emptiness, brings with it the sound of rain against parched earth. It fills your soul, lifts you, and you hold it secret lest it be mistaken for weakness.

You look at him, at the way his mouth pulls sideways when he laughs. Lopsided, boyish, alive in this life without apology. Your heartbeat pulses low in your ears, a distant drum over the prairie where thunderclouds roil against the horizon. Fear is a thing that’s always existed inside you. The shadow of it drove you to a life of savagery- freedom as Arthur would call it.

In the firelight of his smile, you feel it wane low against your heart.

- - -

“I guess nothing has changed much then.” You offer in the silence that follows, your words layered with a meaning that has Arthur’s eyes flickering. “Trying to find the next big score, chased by the law, living life the way it’s supposed to be.”

“We’re living.” Arthur snaps back, shoulders tense once more, like an animal you’ve wandered too close to. Your mouth is a firm line when he looks at you, and he softens once more.

In the silence, multitudes remain unspoken.

There’s a part of you that wants to scream still, that wants to shriek like a wild thing, ignoring the tears that build in your eyes and curse him to the grave. The ghosts that linger beneath your gaze howl for reprieve, but in the end all you see in Arthur is a despair, a pain more alive than he is. It’s mirrored in your soul, in the ghost of you, the shell of yourself you’ve kept alive these years without him.

You want to kiss him, to let his arms wrap around you as you sob into his chest, in the only place that’s ever felt like home. You want to beg and plead for him to stay, to go back to that moment on that stormy night if only for the chance he would not abandon you once more.

You wonder, why despite it all, you still love him.

- - -

Fresh flowers, tucked into the bag of your saddle. You blink at them, feeling heat rush to your face just as John whistles beside you. You shove at him a little too hard- embarrassed, annoyed somehow at him witnessing the gesture, and John curses at you under his breath, bad tempered and juvenile. You don’t hear him, fingers tracing the red button blossoms.

Yarrow. You’ve seen Hosea put it in his mortar and pestle, grind them into a paste he swears does good for his heart. You wonder if Arthur knows as much, knows that the flowers he’s chosen convey so much without words.

You hide them before anyone else can see them, face warm and heart fluttering. You hide your smile when Dutch calls to you, tells both you and Arthur to ride over the horizon in sight of your next target. Even when you and Arthur mount up, your horses’ hooves thundering against the ground just as a storm brews on the horizon of the prairie, you hide the smile blossoming against your lips. You see his smirk tugging his mouth as he rides beside you. Knowing, mischievous.

While he sleeps, you press the flowers into your journal.

- - -

So what now?

Now that you’re both here, alive, regret the only thing you own in the presence of each other- what path leads forward? Is this a greeting, or a goodbye? Maybe it’s both- a chance to finally close the door on the person you were before, a farewell to the man you know will not change.

“I thought you were dead.” Arthur breathes at last, eyes full of emotion you dare not name. “I went back to look for you- nearly got shot more times than I could count. I took weeks to look for you but I never...”

He swallows, throat bobbing.

“Dutch told me to give up. They needed me. I wanted to keep looking but we had to move east. I told myself I’d go back but-”

The same as you, you think. Convincing yourself the other was dead just to avoid the heartache of a life apart from each other.

“I got picked up by some missionaries.” You mumble, looking down into your hands to avoid Arthur seeing your wet eyes. “They took care of me, nursed me, didn’t ask any questions or anything. When I finally was healed I-”

I couldn’t bear to look for you. Not after you left me.

“Sweetheart, I-”

“Don’t.” You snap sharply, emotion cracking at the cage of your ribs, and when you look up the tears finally spill over, eyes brimming with the anger and despair that has haunted you all these years. You stand sharply, the chair falling behind you so loud it sounds like thunder. “You don’t- don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”

Arthur looks wounded, and there’s a sick curl of satisfaction inside of you at seeing his pain, at seeing the guilt you wish he’s always had for what he did. Yet his eyes are open, the color in them a touch darker, like a summer thunderstorm like washes the earth clean.

When he speaks, it’s scarcely a whisper. A confession you’ve hoped for all these years, and now rings hollow inside your chest.

“I never stopped loving you, darlin.”

- - -

“Stay still.” You snap, and Arthur hisses through his teeth as you dab at the wound with alcohol, like the snake that bit him. Venom in his veins, cured only by a tonic of wild yarrow and ginseng that blossoms bright in the summer sun. He’s broken out in a cold sweat as his body fights the poison, face ashen and shivering as he clenches his jaw tight enough to pop.

He clenches and unclenches his hand, sitting wide and forcing a breath through his shivering shoulders. You raise a hand to wipe sweat from his brow and he catches it on instinct when you get too close, like a bear trap springing closed. You’re ready to snarl back at him, all teeth and fangs, when Arthur pulls you closer instead.

You think it’s the venom that has his eyes dancing with a strange sort of light- a coyote snapping its teeth at something in the tall grass. He licks his lips as he leans closer, wound forgotten as he bends towards you.

Poison, you think, as he kisses you for the first time. Poison of the sweetest kind, aching and open and desperate as he shivers fully against you- as you knock the hat from his head and loop your arms around his neck as if he’ll dare to part from you. You swallow him down fully, heedless of the venom, of the fever he possesses just for you, of the starving thing that hollows out both of your souls, only to be filled by the other.

- - -

Despite yourself, despite everything, you fold.

It begins like a distant rainstorm, the soft mist of rain against the earth. You swallow a sob despite the tears against your face, despite the urge to hold it all in. Showing weakness was how this story began. It was how he left you.

Your weakness has always been him.

A sob startles loose from your chest, and you vainly press your palms to your eyes as if it can contain your tears. Anger, despair, hopelessness but above all else longing for the things you lost, for the time you had with him, for the things you did just to stay with him.

You hate him, hate yourself, hate the things you both lived for even if it kept you alive just to be with each other. You want to go back to the sunny day where he kissed you under the open sky and confessed his love for you against your lips. You want to banish him and scream into your solitude, you want to go back to a time where you never knew him. You want him to never leave you again.

Wordless cries, desperate noises from the broken thing that’s resided in you all this time, and all at once you’re swallowed up by his arms. He presses you to his chest and you try to fight him, you do, but Arthur holds you despite your struggles, hushes you as he hugs you to him like he’ll never let you go again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers against you as you fall apart, as you shatter into pieces that have been held together by string all this time. It’s the words you’ve wished for all this time but it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s here, and you hate yourself for allowing yourself to weep into his arms despite your promises you never would again.

Then again, you’ve both been fools from the very start.

- - -

You don’t see the third coach guard crouched on the floor.

Wet, warm breaths cling to the fabric against your nose and chin, sweat beading your forehead as you peek out from behind the tree to check for any remaining gunmen. Corpses litter the ground on the country road, the horses whinnying frantically as shouts call out between the group of you. The scent of blood, of gunpowder is a familiar aura to you by now. It cloaks itself around you, drapes its skeletal arms about your shoulders and whispers a tender embrace of death.

You stare into the barrel of a rifle, eyes wide.

Death does not lend itself to you when the shot rings out- not his.

From the tree beside you, Arthur’s pistol smokes, the bullet having found its mark.

Your heart hammers too loudly, too close to keep it silent from him you think. It feels lodged in your throat, something akin to a scream, a sigh stuck there unable to release. Arthur’s eyes are flinty from above his bandanna, steel blue like platinum, like a blade so sharp it slices through your ribs and inward towards your soul.

You try to speak, all you can manage is a nod.

“You okay?” He asks, breathless, weapon still raised. Your hands shake.

“Fine.” Your voice is calmer than it should be. “...Thank you.”

Arthur shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave you, not for a long while.

“Let’s get this done!” Dutch calls, voice cracking with his volume as he darts towards the lockbox. You wait until Arthur goes after him to follow, unsteady on your feet.

You pass by the guard in the coach, halfway hanging out of the window, a red dribbling from the center of his head.

His eyes reflect you.

- - -

“I waited for you.” You sob, fingers gripping his shirt and bunching the fabric between your fists. “You told me you’d come back. You said-”

“I know.” Arthur soothes, voice cracking as you sniffle into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I told myself you were dead. When you didn’t come back, I told myself you died if only to spare myself the pain. I wanted-” You sob.

I wanted you to be dead rather than live a life without me.

There’s an ache inside you fit to burst, a seed planted the moment he kissed you goodbye with false promises of a reunion. It blossoms scarlet in eulogy, painting your remembrance in washes of crimson cast aphotic upon your soul. You want to burrow yourself inside its thorny stems where he can’t touch you, resign yourself to solitude in vain hope it will dull the pain.

Yet Arthur holds you, cradles you in his arms like a fawn hidden in the goldenrod where you empty yourself of cries, confessing to him the seed of grief he planted all those years ago.

“You’re okay.” He whispers into your hair, and his embrace nearly squeezes the air from your lungs with how tight he gathers you close to him. “I’m here.”

“I’m here.”

- - -

You awake with a gasp, back bowing off your bedroll and eyes wide with sightless terror. Your fingers curl into your blanket, a whimper bubbling up your throat. In the vision that plagues you, your hands are dipped red, holding a bloody rifle pointed at the eyes of the stagecoach guard. He reaches for you with a wet gurgle, offers a damnation that shivers under your skin and sinks into your bones.

His eyes reflect you.

Hands land on you, press your shoulders back against the ground and you struggle against them on pure instinct, throwing out your curled fist only for it to meet empty air.

“Hey- hey!” A voice whispers harshly above you, weight settling over your hips to pin you down. “Calm- calm down!”

It takes a few moments for the voice to register, and in that time Arthur wrestles your hands above your head in one gloved grip, the other holding your face with a gentle shake until your eyes focus on him.

“It’s me.” He breathes, shoulders heaving, eyes glimmering like stars in the darkness. “Just me.”

You’re shaking, trembling from head to toe as the scent of iron clogs your lungs and you try to think through the haze of terror gripping you. Arthur’s voice cuts through the fog, and you go lax under him. Trusting, sincere, knowing that of all the people in the world, it’s Arthur who will guard you- keep you safe.

“I’m here.” He whispers, softer, dropping his head towards you as you shudder. “You’re okay.”

- - -

“Why did you have to die, only to come back to haunt me?” You ask hoarsely into his chest, nose pressed against his shirt. You remember the feeling of the hair underneath as you traced it under the pads of your fingers.

Arthur is silent, one hand slowly tracing the curve of your spine as long shadows dance through the small, dim interior of your cabin. A single oil lantern casts you both in a yellow glow as sienna fades against the sunset fading west to the place where you both belong. Open, wild, free.

“You’re the ghost I never wanted to see.” You whisper, and Arthur stiffens. Yet you nuzzle closer into his chest. He still smells the same. Tangy sweat, acrid smoke of gunpowder, and beneath- something unshakable, tender, something that feels like home.

“Tell me to leave.” He tells you at last, and he sounds desperate in a way you haven’t heard in so long. “Tell me you hate me. Tell me to go and never come back.”

His hand cradles your head, presses you closer, and you melt further into his hold, into the thing you’ve hated yourself for ever wanting, and you go willingly.

“Tell me.” He says again, voice all wood smoke and pine, a forest campfire against a glimmering expanse of stars.

Yet you’re silent. The voice that holds your protests, your anger feels weak in his embrace, tendered by memory and the touch of him. The rational part of you knows you should, that you should let go of him forever and try to live a life free of violence in pursuit of glory. You know hanging onto Arthur means anchoring yourself to a ship destined to sink to the bottom of the ocean, but the part of you that remembers what it meant to kiss him, to be held by him, to be loved, doesn’t seem to care.

So instead the word that falls from your lips is:

“Stay.”

- - -

“Stay.” You ask him quietly, gripping at his sleeve as if you were a child. Arthur seems frozen to the spot, unbalanced and unsure. His own bedroll lays a short distance away, at the edge of the fire that licks warm against your bare arms. You half expect him to gently withdraw your hand from him, whisper a goodnight and turn with his back towards you. The taste of his lips upon yours those weeks ago lingers, and you wonder if the poison inside of you both has finally quelled the gnawing hunger inside both your souls.

Arthur turns to you, lips parted. You want to steal another kiss from them just as you live your life on thievery- this treasure more precious than all the others. You want to wrap yourself in him like smoke, bathe in the moonlight waters of his gaze and burrow deep into his chest where you’ve made your den. The wilderness of his soul feels inherent to yours, alight with the misty green valleys and towering, ancient forests of which you find yourselves in.

“Stay.” You say again, quieter. Softer. Pleading.

He goes to you, and it feels like a dream of a different nature. It feels like something from a vision, the way he bends to you, raises you to his lips and breathes whiskey onto your tongue.

“Sweetheart.” He whispers there, and you shudder at the slow, sweet drip of his voice onto your tongue. You crane towards him, shivering, too warm, wanting to burn alive in the cinders of his touch.

He kisses you again, harder, more forcefully, a low groan spilling past his lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, drag him down with you into hell, where the sins of the lives you’ve led taste just as sweet as the other upon your tongue.

- - -

“Just for tonight at least.” You whisper hoarsely, fingers gripping at his jacket, nose buried against the worn cotton of his shirt. You know from experience that Arthur’s loyalty runs deep, far too deep for even you to conquer. To ask him to stay is like asking a wild thing to release dying prey from the clutch of its maw. Even if you pry at his jaws and make your fingers bleed he won’t relent. Red from your palms blooms like yarrow under sunlight, and all it does is make his eyes glimmer with an unquenchable hunger.

“I just...you owe me that much.” You go on, and it’s a low blow, one he doesn’t deserve after the time he spent trying to search for you, but you’re selfish just as he is. In this moment you need him, you need him to stay just to call him yours for the scarce time you have together.

Arthur’s arms are still around you. You can hear his heartbeat thump against your cheek as you nuzzle against him. You can hear the hesitation held between his breaths just like the calm before a thunderstorm before it slaps against the space between sky and earth. Silently, you beg whatever god has not deserted you that you can be afforded this much, that you can close your eyes and pretend just for a moment he won’t leave you again.

Finally, Arthur breathes. Rather than speak, you feel the moment he surrenders with the tension bleeding from his shoulders, reaching to tip your chin upwards into his waiting mouth. You go without an ounce of resistance, too tired to fight, to scream, to even feel the tear that escapes the corner of your eye.

“Alrigh’.” Arthur sighs into your lips, and swallows your shuddering breath.

- - -

You’re drunk on the taste of him, on the low moan that rumbles from his chest. You taste endearments on his tongue as he whispers them with low, sinuous tones that make your toes curl. To kiss Arthur is to feel the vibrancy of life itself against your lips. Living without regret, without fear, reckless as he smiles to hail of gunfire and glinting knives. Alive, wild, untamed in a way you can’t seem to manage but want so desperately to be.

Arthur kisses you without any hesitation, without a sense of gentleness. Desperate, wet, noisy as he laps at the inside of your mouth, feeds on the mewl that bubbles up your throat. His teeth find your bottom lip, your jaw, your breast. He finds the pulsing vein of your throat and you wonder if he’ll bite down on that too, let red gush into his mouth if only to quench the hunger inside of him. It’s not enough- it never is. The very act of living isn’t nearly enough for his soul- as endless as the map of the world itself. Neither is the sensation of your blunted nails digging into his shoulders, crawling beneath his shirt and tracing through the coarse hair of his stomach just as his muscles jump under your touch.

The desire of being wanted, of being found, of belonging here is enough to make you fall apart in his arms, where he feasts upon the sin of your flesh. Into your neck he whispers “Darlin’.” Against your bared breasts he growls “Sweetheart.” Between your legs, where his tongue laps against your glistening folds he breathes. “Mine.”

All your life you have wandered in search of somewhere to rest the empty fringes of your heart, to lose yourself in someone else just as the horizon swallows up the setting western sun. If Arthur asked you to open yourself to him, to swear yourself to just him, to follow him into hell itself, you think you would follow just as long as he held your hand.

He kisses the tears of overwhelm from your eyes, and you taste the salt of them upon your lips.

Arthur devours you, and you allow him gladly.

- - -

He takes you to bed, gentle in a way that feels unfamiliar. A younger version of him would have met you with clacking teeth and a bruising grip- overeager, hungry and ferocious all at once. Now Arthur is softer, dulled at the edges like a worn knife. Still sharp enough to leave a jagged wound upon your heart. Every slow, languid kiss melts away at the loneliness that has kept you as your only companion for years. His hands pull carefully at your shawl, your shirt, popping each button with nimble hands trained from years of violence.

He tastes like bourbon, like cigarettes, like sweat and gun oil. Traces of the life he lives beyond the bounds of laws. Your fingers tangle in his overgrown hair, drag him down so he can lick inside your open mouth and pour careless whispers onto your tongue. You want him to surround you, to be inside you, to crack open your ribs and make himself home in the place where he’s always belonged no matter how much it might hurt you.

There’s a need inside you unlike anything else. To call it hunger would be to call a wolf tamed. It cannot be fed no matter how much he indulges you, and with every second he parts to breathe it howls with something primal and ferocious that threatens to bleed him dry. Your teeth snag on his bottom lip and Arthur growls in return, a low rumble of warning you dare not heed.

“I want you like you used to have me.” You pant, bracing his forehead against yours, feeling the sweat build against his nape as he presses you into the wall with his bulky frame. “Like we had nothing else to live for.”

You feel Arthur pause, feel a fission of tension run through his shoulders, his hand curling as it braces on the wall behind you.

“My girl.” He offers then, in a voice that haunts your waking dreams. “Mine.”

- - -

He’s looking west.

The sky arches over both of you, cloudless, azure, open to the horizon in any given direction. Prairie grass tickles your cheeks as you lay beside him, your hand trapped beneath his gun calloused palm. The wind ruffles his hair and in this moment you can’t help but think how alive Arthur looks- sunburned but smiling, wistful in his eyes as he stares at the western sky. Hoping, longing, desiring something you both will never reach.

You reach for him, and wordlessly he goes to you, breathing against your lips as if he would a prayer. Without words you understand each other, through touch alone you convey symphonies of the endless sky and all the hopes wished to it. Arthur kisses you like the wind that carves through the bluffs- wild and beautiful and home.

“My girl.” He rumbles from above you, braced on his elbows as he gazes down at you. You trace the growing lines on his face, of age that finds you both. Proof of the life you’ve both lived, of survival despite brutality and violence for the sake of this thing called freedom.

He is no longer the young man you knew when you found him all those years ago, and you find yourself have changed as well. You’re softer now, aged by the blood on your hands that sinks into your veins and transforms you. Guilt and regret are things that are not allowed to you, not with the sins engraved into your soul. You think the longing for peace is the same thing Arthur feels when he looks west. Freedom of a different kind.

Yet you know too that you’d do it all again for him, for this moment where he kisses you under the beautiful blue sky the same color of his eyes looking ever towards the horizon. In this moment you are happy, you are loved, and you would gladly drown yourself in sin if it means you can stay with him for just a moment longer.

- - -

The scars on him are different now. You trace them under the bare pads of your fingers as he pauses to hold his own between his bared teeth and pull off his gloves. Under him, you lean back to admire the strength in his bare shoulders, the sinewy muscle that lays under a thick thatch of curls that you trace down to his stomach. Arthur shudders above you, braced on his forearms, panting, hair falling into his wild, flinty eyes.

Arthur looks at you like he’s seen a ghost, too transfixed to look away. For a moment his eyes are distant, and you know where his mind goes, to that stormy night atop canyon bluffs where he had held your limp form and begged you for something you could not give.

“Arthur.” You whisper, and the light in his eyes changes. You watch his throat bob, his jaw tighten for a moment before he shudders into you, the bulge in his pants nudging insistently at your thighs, which you spread to either side of him with open invitation. “Arthur.”

He leans down to kiss you again, groaning openly into your mouth. It’s messy- wet and slick as he sucks at your tongue. Brow scrunched, he lets himself fall into you, allows himself the cardinal sin of remembrance amidst betrayal. You welcome him with open arms, knowing despite your fruitless efforts that you were meant to be here, in his embrace.

“You’re going to haunt me for the rest of my days.” He murmurs as his hand strokes the bareness of your inner thigh.

Outside, coyotes howl at the moon.

- - -

The golden glow of the fire casts him in resplendent light. Bare chested, sinewy with taut, lean muscle. His hair has gotten longer, clinging with sweat to his nape and brushed from his eyes. You follow the silvery skin of an old wound from his rib to his side- a shallow knife slash you stitched yourself. As he bends forward you long to knead the soft flesh of his stomach under your palms, trace the line of hair from his navel downwards into his lap where the worn, leather-bound notebook resides under his palms.

You lay on your side, bare under his draped bedroll, watching him sit beside you. He traces your likeness into the pages of his journal, eyes flickering like flames as they dart from you to the paper as if he can’t entirely trust himself to remember the vision of you. The spend of his leaks between your wet thighs, and you know by night’s end he will have added to it, so ravenous is his hunger for you.

“Writing about me?” You ask as he glances up at your face, a knowing smile on your lips.

He hums a low note, raspy in his chest as his mouth tugs into a smirk.

“Horrible, nasty things.” He muses, and you snort.

Your hand travels from under your chin, southward to cup the swell of your breast under his hungry gaze. You catch your lip between your teeth as you moan, watching his eyes glimmer and his hands pause over the pages. Temptation, bait for a wild creature who crawls towards you, over you, smiling into your purring mouth.

“Again.” You tell him without preamble, and you taste his smile against his lips.

- - -

He settles himself above you, all musk and smoke as he rolls his hips against yours in languid, slow thrusts. You feel his shoulders shiver under your bare hands, forehead pressed to yours and every rattling breath fanning across your skin. He’s indulging, gentle, remembering what it was like to have you as his. You wonder if he’s lost the memory of every scar, every dip and curve of your body against his.

The stretch is uncomfortable at first, larger than you remember as you whimper into his neck. A hand braces at your hip, rubs soothing circles into your skin as he angles with slow, powerful motions that drag at the burning need inside of you like a riptide. The tip of him nudges something deep inside you that’s remained untouched since you lost him, and the aftereffect sends coiling pleasure fissuring out along your limbs like gunpowder igniting under your skin.

Your need dribbles out around the plug of his girth, stretching you until your toes curl and you moan openly, baring your neck to his ravenous gaze. Arthur is loud above you, an endless stream of words and noise that burrows warm and viscous into your veins.

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuck- fuck. That’s my girl. So damn pretty.” He huffs, voice catching something low and rough in his chest. He moans long and loud as you clench up around him, gritting his teeth as his hips stutter for a moment- exhaling long through his nose. “Not gonna last if you tighten up like that, sweetheart.”

Cheeky, you flex down on him again and the noise that drops from his mouth is sinful. It only lengthens his thrusts, bracing himself so he can fuck down into you, his tip nudging your slick walls that grip him with every retreat. The pace is enough to drive you mad, gripping at him until bruises are sure to form along his skin. You want to leave a memory of you there, want to mark him so that when he leaves he’ll remember you for just a little longer.

and quietly, despite yourself, you hope he stays.

- - -

On the third dawn of your long ride with Arthur, you awake tangled in his arms, legs entwined with his as the low, blue glow of sunrise softly colors the sky above. The fire has burned down to cinders, and the cool bite of morning against your bare skin has you cuddle all the closer to him, listening to his sleepy groan as he rouses.

He whispers good morning against your soft lips, and in return you smile against the corner of his mouth. Arthur tastes like sweat and sunshine, like something wonderful and wild that you can never truly wrap your hands around despite the yearning inside you.

You should rise along with the sun, should pack up camp and continue on this scouting mission Dutch has sent you both on. You’ve taken long enough, should have been heading back days ago, but instead you find yourself here, tangled in each other's arms as the low, azure hues of dawn settle over your bare forms.

Arthur seems to think the same, because when you try to wiggle out of his arms, reach for your haphazardly shed clothes, his arms only fasten around you all the tighter, nose buried against your collarbone.

“Stay.”

For him? Always.

- - -

There’s tears brimming in your eyes. From the overwhelm of sensation as Arthur gently tugs one of your nipples between his teeth, from the sharp stab of memory between your ribs, you aren’t entirely sure. They well hot in your eyes, your voice caught between a sob and a moan, legs trembling as you press your heels into his back.

Arthur’s blue eyes fasten on you, look up at your knotted brow and trembling lip as he softens at the seams, takes your face in his hands and turns you up to him.

“Darlin’.” He rumbles, syrupy and sweet like the warm bite of bourbon. His lips descend to the corner of your fluttering eyes, drinking in the salt from your wounds laid bare beneath him.

“Arthur.” You whisper, voice cracking on the sound. It hurts, you think, somewhere deep inside of you, but the pain is buried by the sensation of him inside you, above you, around you, engulfing you like a tidal wave out to shore where all your reservations drown in the deep.

You kiss him, salt upon his tongue, melting into him. It’s what you’ve always wanted. It’s the place you thought you belonged for so long. In this moment, it’s the only thing you’ll ever have.

Arthur’s gun calloused hand slides down to the meat of your thigh, hauls you up so your calf is pressed against his shoulder and you moan, the new angle allowing him to press deeper inside you. It’s all you can do to cling to him as Arthur resumes his pace, whimpers bubbling up your throat as he leans back and begins to truly fuck you, grunting and groaning, words incoherent.

“Fuck- fuck beautiful. Feel so fuckin’ good, so pretty.” He pants, pausing to suck a bite into your calf which has you bow off the bed with a yelp. “Yeah, that’s it. Lemme hear you, honey.”

“Arthur-” You moan in return, and if it’s a plea or a prayer you aren’t sure. Everything feels too warm, too bright, nerves narrowing down to the feeling of him inside you, the press of his public bone into your clit as he claims you like you’re his.

You remember this. You remember the snarling, wet kisses and bruised lips and the feral sensation of it all, two wild things in the wilderness lost except for each other.

and, quietly, you find the words within you to say:

“I love you.”

- - -

He takes you there under the open blue sky, tucked away in an aspen grove where a vixen barks nearby. Sunshine fills your head, golden and honey-sweet as you laugh under him, his teeth nibbling against your neck where you can feel his smile. You’re wasting time, laying in the sun bare and uncaring, wrapped in each other, and you can’t think of any place you’d rather be than here.

Arthur braces on his arms suddenly, twisting off to the side and hauling your bare leg over his hip. You think for a moment he’ll slide inside you again, but instead Arthur pauses. Thinking, eyes distant.

“I...” he tries at first, suddenly hoarse. There’s an emotion in his stare you don’t have words for. His scraped knuckles brush your cheek. “I love you.”

You blink, caught off guard, eyes wide with wonderful realization that blossoms like yarrow under rising summer sun.

“You...I...” He tries again, at a loss. “Hell, I’ve never been good with words sweetheart, I-”

You lean forward, brush your lips with his. It silences him with a little noise of surprise, a breathless sort of shudder that trembles through the sinew of his shoulders.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” You whisper, fingers stroking through his sweat damp hair. “I love you.”

He grins, and you feel your chest flutter helplessly, surrendering completely to him.

“My girl.” He rumbles, lips descending to yours again as sunshine abounds inside your heart.

- - -

“I love you.” You say again, holding his face as Arthur pants into your mouth, chasing his release just as he chases yours. “Despite everything, I love you.”

His forehead drops to yours, tongues entwined as he groans into your mouth, lost in the haze. You can still taste the salt of your tears, and you wonder if Arthur allowed himself, if perhaps he’d cry too. For the regret of leaving you, for the pain of losing you, for the years spent without you, for this moment where you both pretend like this will be the rest of your lives.

“Gonna fill you up.” He growls, teeth catching on your lip. “Let me. Let me, please darlin. I want-”

“Tell me you love me.” You manage between gasps, hands tangled in his hair, hauling him down against you, legs locked around his hips to prevent any thoughts of escape. “Say it.”

“I love you. I love you. Fuck, honey- I love you. I’ve wanted you all this time, needed you-” Arthur babbles, hips stuttering. You can feel him twitch inside you, and you cant your hips up to meet him just as Arthur curses, leans back to rub a calloused thumb over your clit and your body sings. Lightning fractures your spine, the pressure building so fast and overwhelming you can hardly choke out a warning of your impending orgasm before it begins to crest.

“Cum fr’me, c’mon.” Arthur growls, jaw grinding as he thrusts into you with the beginning throes of his release. “C’mon sweetheart lemme feel it, need to feel it, c’mon- oh fuck-”

You sob as you finally cum, legs shaking as the pressure recoils taut through your muscles and spreads warm along your limbs. Your ears are ringing from the force of it, so severe and sudden it’s all you can do but to hang on to Arthur as he grinds his thumb into your clit, working you through it, punches the final few thrusts inside of you with a whine bitten off at the back of his throat.

“Good girl- damn. Good girl, my girl. So good fr’me.” He slurs, feeling the ricochets of your release ripple down over his length just as he empties inside of you, shuddering and grinding his release into you. “That’s it. My girl. Feels like heaven darlin.”

He cuts himself off with a low, shuddering groan before dropping his weight onto you, cock twitching still. You pepper his face with kisses. His mouth, his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and knotted brow. Arthur pants against you just as you catch your breath, skin damp with sweat and sex, the cabin too warm now in a way that makes you want to wrap yourself in him all that much more.

“I love you.” Arthur says again, but this time it’s aching, tender, and you hear the years spent without saying it in his voice. “Never stopped lovin’ you.”

He pauses, and you feel him swallow with his head dropped to your shoulder so you can’t see his eyes. “I tried. I tried to stop but...”

You raise his face to yours, and feel his confession upon his lips.

- - -

“I love you.” He says again, as the stars glimmer above, as the fire crackles beside your tent. Here in the middle of everything you are the only two creatures to exist, away from violence, from machinations and savagery and the curse you’ve both gained through the weight of your sins.

The fire catches golden against his eyes, his hair, his bare chest as he braces above you. Sweat beads his brow as he rolls his hips against you, your heels pressed into the small of his back as you swallow his confession with a breathless gasp. The dizzying intoxication of him glows warm in your veins, thrums under your skin and electrifies you. Pleasure curls hot and liquid below your belly but it doesn’t compare to the warmth in your chest as he echoes your name again, braces his forehead on yours.

“I love you.” He tells you, and it’s desperate somehow, as if he thinks you haven’t heard him, as if he’s never said it before and will somehow lose the chance. You kiss him, swallow his moan with your tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth, fingers tangled in his hair to drag him impossibly closer. “My girl. God-”

He sits up, hauls you with him so you’re braced into his lap. You loop your arms around his neck, bounce on his lap and feel the smile he presses to the corner of your lips when you giggle. His hands splay against your back, cup the swell of your ass just as he nips at your collarbone, knowing the mark he’ll leave there for the others to see. You don’t care. Let them know, you think, that the things you fight and kill for, the murders you commit, the lives you ruin, are for this- for the freedom he loves so much.

Freedom, if only to love him in return.

- - -

He lays with you tucked in his arms, fingers tracing along your nape, legs tangled. If you close your eyes, you can almost feel the desert stars above from all those years ago. It’s warm here, and your home is finally complete with him in it.

Yet the unspoken lingers, the whisper of goodbye both past and future quiet ghosts to this moment of peace you wish you could stay in. You cling to Arthur like a life raft amidst stormy seas, knowing at any moment he can be torn from you, that you’ll be cast into the cavernous depths below.

“I don’t want to be alone again.” You whisper to nobody but yourself.

Arthur’s fingers pause, and with his heart below your cheek you feel him shift, tip your face towards his.

Blue eyes. The color of a Sunday morning where missionary church bells ring. The color of skies promising rain, of the oceans you never got to see, of the waves that threaten to rip him from your hold.

“I am never leaving you alone again.” Arthur whispers, and the fierceness of it startles you, makes your heart leap in your chest. It would be a snarl if it weren’t for the tender caress of his hands against your bare form, the way his thumb presses down on the soft bed of your lip.

When he kisses you, it feels like a vow.

- - -

You stand atop the valley at sunset. Orange bleeds across the sky, where the train station waits below. Smoke curls up into the heavens from the steam engine, and you watch the distant glimmer of gold from high above as it’s loaded onto the train.

Beside you, Arthur whistles low and long, lowering his binoculars. There’s a telltale glimmer in his eyes, the kind you see only when he’s sizing up a score. Grinning, all teeth, fangs bared. If he had a tail, he’d be yipping at the sky.

A thief, through and through, even though you’re the one that stole his heart.

“Think we can manage it?” You ask, and your horse seems to sense your trepidation, pawing at the soft earth anxiously.

Arthur hums low, considering. “Need to do it smart, but with Dutch and the others I’d say so.”

Smart. You’ve known Dutch to be clever, wily, but smart...

You can’t shake the dark cloud that looms inky over your thoughts like distant thunderclouds, the feeling that this isn’t as easy as it looks. There’s something off here, and you can’t seem to place it.

Above, a vulture circles.

“Might get away with enough for me to buy you something.” Arthur murmurs, shooting a sidelong smirk at you. You huff, trying to cover the doubtful flicker of your eyes.

“Like what?”

“A ring?”

You stare at him, slack jawed, the wind whistling between you the only sound on earth. Flabbergasted, you try to speak, to question him, anything, but Arthur leans forward out of his saddle, uses his gloved knuckle to close your mouth.

“Gonna catch flies, sweetheart.”

You splutter, reaching for him, but he darts away. In fact, he urges his horse about, turning on his heel and racing back down the trail as your voice echoes after him indignantly.

Arthur laughs upwards towards the setting western sun.

- - -

He falls asleep holding you, arms wrapped around you as if he’ll never let you go, just as he says.

It takes effort not to cry.

You tell yourself you believe him, that this time he’ll stay. You tell yourself he loves you more than he loves freedom itself, that all that glitters is not gold. For the briefest, fleeting moments, you allow yourself to dream of him growing old by your side, of getting to watch the grays dot his temples, smile lines etched into his face. You think about what it would be like to watch the setting sun with him as you both slowly fade away.

You think about how you asked him to leave with you once, how you’d quietly confessed to him that you could no longer live this life but were unable to part from him.

You think about the heartbreak in his eyes.

and you know, deep inside yourself, here tucked in his embrace...

That it is better to think of this as just a dream.

- - -

You don’t feel the bullet. Not at first.

You hardly hear it above the din, the echo of gunshots all around you. Yelling, gun smoke, the shriek of horses as you try to out-ride your pursuers suffocates the world around you. Your mare stinks of foamy sweat as her legs pump under her, trying to carry both you and the bags of gold dust secured behind your saddle. The whites of her eyes show, wild as you race alongside the others, turning to fire behind you as gunfire glints in the darkness.

You can hardly tell the difference between the whistle of bullets and the slicing wind, the rain that drives hard against your skin, leaks into your eyes so you can hardly see.

It’s only after you raise your gun arm again, feel it fall limp and weak to your side that you notice something’s wrong.

As the world tilts, you hear Arthur scream.

You’re still trying to raise your gun when you slouch sideways in the saddle. Your mare races onward with you as her limp passenger, blind with fear and twice as fast.

Arthur is yelling as you fumble for the reins, as you finally notice how the rain seems to seep below your clothes, how it feels warm against your skin.

You focus on trying to sit up, trying to breathe against the blinding pain that erupts from your shoulder. Your ears are ringing, trying to discern the thunder from the eruption of guns behind you. There’s voices, muffled as you try to focus on them, movement on either side of you as John and Davey drop back to cover you. You try and urge your mare faster, spurs digging into her sides, and she only squeals.

All at once, arms fasten around your middle and you feel your body hauled abruptly sideways, off balance. They cradle you to his chest as you slouch sideways in his saddle, blood trickling down your arm and onto his.

“C’mon.” Arthur grits, trying to shake you before his voice goes breathy, desperate.

“Stay with me. Stay with me.”

- - -

You wake to an empty house, and a note.

Sweetheart, it reads, and you graze the torn edges of the paper, fresh from his journal

I’m sorry. There’s things I need to do, debts I need to settle. I’ll be back for you. I promise.

I love you.

- - -

“We need to draw them away. Keep them on our tail and then shake em.” Dutch announces, voice low and grim. You feel Arthur’s arms tighten around you. It feels as if you can barely grip his jacket. The fabric slips under your fingers, slick from the rain. The grove at the edge of the valley rise is dark in the rain. You can hardly see Dutch beyond the darkness. No lanterns lest your pursuers spot you. Even now, you can hear them in the distance. Hollering, searching.

“We can’t just leave her-” Arthur tries to protest, voice bordering on a snarl and-

“Arthur.” Dutch says, voice ringing deep with his baritone, and you hear Arthur’s jaw click shut almost instantly. Duty bound. Kept at heel.

There’s words then, quieter, more grim that you can’t make out. You drift in and out of awareness. The world around you feels too cold, the grip on the pistol in your hand too loose in a way you can’t seem to tighten. Blood oozes steadily from your wound, dresses you in a blossoming red of yarrow flowers laid upon your grave.

Then, Arthur.

“We gotta go darlin.” He breathes, voice tight, and you are awake just enough to try and shake your head no. Not like this. You always thought he would be here at the end. “Just- just stay alive. Please.”

“Arthur.” You wheeze, gripping at his coat, his arms, anywhere you can reach. Pistol forgotten so you can touch him. Just him.

He presses kisses to your scrunched brow, bloodied hands cupping your wan face as you whimper. You can feel the warmth of his breath spill across your skin as he speaks. It smells like cigarettes, and where you usually wrinkle your nose now it feels like the only tether to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be back soon. Stay here.”

Your protest is a dull, groaning sound in your ears as you try to grip at him, weak and exhausted as you are. You try to form words on your leaden tongue. Please, please. Just a little longer. Stay, until the end.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Arthur kisses the corner of your eyes, warmth beading in your liquid gaze. There’s a hiccup forming in your throat, and it clogs the words you want to say to him, a plea to stay just a little longer until you fall asleep forever.

“I’ll find you.” He promises, voice catching in his throat even as he begins to pull away. “I will. I promise.”

“No-” You try in one last, feeble attempt. “A-Arth...ur.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers against the corner of your mouth. “I love you.”

When he pulls away, the cold is all you feel.

- - -

Just like that, you’re back where you started. Except this time, it’s so much worse.

There’s traces of him everywhere in your home. The scent of him clings to your sheets, his empty dinner plate on your table, a stubbed cigarette burn on the porch outside. Undeniable, painful. It hurts to see the ghost of him after he had held you, told you he loved you, and promised to never leave again.

You should have known. You should have never allowed yourself to think even for a moment this could end any other way. Arthur could never be tethered down, could never be tamed by your gentle hands seeking his bloody fangs that squeezed tight down onto something he could never let go of. To think otherwise was beyond foolish, and yet you’d allowed your heart to open for a fleeting moment in which he nestled between your ribs, only to leave something bitter and rotten in its wake.

In the end, you try to convince yourself it was just a dream.

Even if you do wish it was real.

The seasons change. The golden afternoons of fall fade to winter. Snow blankets your homestead in silence, and you pretend not to notice the chill of tears against your cheeks as you stand on your front step and try not to look down the lonely road where you dare to hope he’ll return from.

You tell yourself he died, if only to make it easier.

As spring blossoms new life in the valley you think more about moving west again. It’s been years, and you know whatever life you lived there is long gone. The lives that stained your hands, the sins you committed, the person you were, died on the night Arthur left you. Nobody would recognize you now. You could tell them you’re a widow, say the man you loved died and you’re there for a new start. Folks would believe you, if only for the way your eyes always look a little lost, distant, looking for somewhere to belong again.

You think about Arthur riding up onto your empty home where the only thing left behind is the yarrow flowers you’ve kept pressed in your notebook all this time. You wonder if he’d hurt as much as you do.

It’s better this way, you tell yourself. Arthur was never going to change. He was never going to be the man you needed, but maybe that’s why you loved him so. You loved Arthur because he was intangible, yours but never truly there, his eyes always looking west, his gaze glimmering in a way you wished so dearly would be only for you.

You pack your things, quietly tell your neighbors you’ll be leaving. They wish you well, buying your meager belongings so the only things you have to your name fit on the back of your horse. It’s achingly familiar, living just from your saddle bag and satchel. You tuck your rifle along the saddle of your mare and pray you don’t need to use it, and make plans to head west.

The night before you leave, you cry until you’re hoarse.

and come dawn, he comes to you.

You awake to the sound of a horse neighing, and you know it isn’t yours. Your feet carry you to the porch before you even know you’re there, heart leaping wildly as you watch him quietly ride up to you. Slowly, each hoofbeat slower than your racing heartbeat, and when Arthur looks up at you from beneath his hat, you sob.

It’s the heartache that keeps you rooted to the spot when he dismounts, removes his hat to his heart. You want to laugh at the gesture, so unlike him, but the sadness, the plea in his eyes makes the air in your chest so thin it hurts to breathe.

You stare at each other. Words alone are unable to convey the depth of emotion shared in your gazes. Everything inside you screams to race down the steps, fling yourself into his arms, cry until you're empty and welcome him home to the place inside you that’s always been empty in his absence. You want to scream, to yell, to curse him, but the only sound that you can summon is simply: “Arthur.”

You watch his throat bob, at a loss for words before he finally speaks.

“I’m not going back.”

When you say nothing, he goes on.

“I...I’ve done things, bad things. I’m not a good man, that I know. I’ve made my peace with that. Even if I try, I’ll never...”

He pauses, and you see him struggle. You stand firm, unmoving, scarcely breathing as he offers himself to you.

“We...I-” He falters, and there’s an emotion that flashes over his face that you don’t recognize. A compass broken, his axis failed under him. Arthur stares through you towards something you cannot see, another future that plays out before his eyes with horrifying viscera that paints his gaze.

“I tried to settle debts, make things right. But Dutch-” His voice cracks. There’s something caught inside of him, guilt torn between devotion and realism that changes the polarity of his wayward path. “Dutch isn’t the man I thought he was. I shoulda seen it sooner but I’ve been so blind. Blind to...a lot of things.”

Arthur looks at you, looks at you, and for the first time you feel like he sees you.

“Things went down. The others, they’re fine. Hosea is lookin’ after em now. Gave me his blessing. I rode out of camp. Didn’t look back. I...don’t fancy myself a traitor but for the first time I managed to...to see things for what they were.”

He takes a step forward. You don’t move away, don’t move towards him, but you feel the tears overspill against your too-warm cheeks.

“There is a price on my head, and there will be until the day I die.” Arthur declares softly. “But...if you’ll have me, then I’ll stay. For good.”

You stare at him through the tears, try to school your face into a valiant attempt of passivity, of anger, of righteous fury, anything. Your fists sit clenched at your side. When you try to speak, the only thing that comes out is a hiccup.

Arthur takes a step towards you, eyes crestfallen, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to not fall apart at the seams.

“Why should I have you?” You demand at last, voice thick with tears. “You...you’re a no good, rotten bastard Arthur Morgan. You think you can be an honest man for me, hmm?”

Arthur looks wounded, but he takes it. He takes your anger, purses his lips and it makes you angrier.

“How the hell are you going to earn a living, huh? You only know how to kill and steal a-and-” You break off, scrubbing furiously at your face.

“I...” Arthur tries. “I can read, and write. I can...I can hunt and I’m good with horses-”

“and you probably don’t even have a penny to your name-”

“I can...I can ranch I suppose, but-” Arthur breaks off with a muttered curse. “Goddammit woman, will you have me or not?”

You stare at him, face wet, chest clogged with your cries...

...and you launch yourself down the steps and into his open embrace.

“Ride west with me.” You tell him as he parts from your kiss, his arms fastened around you, blue eyes sparkling. “They way I’ve always wanted.”

“West?” He breathes, breathless. His smile is so radiant it almost burns. “Where?”

“Past new Austin. Out towards Montana, or...I dunno, California. Past the mountains. Back to where it all started and then some.”

Arthur kisses you again, and again. You feel fit to burst at the seams, so outdone by joy and hope that you think you’ll float off into the dawning blue sky above.

“Anywhere.” He promises you. “I’ll buy you that ring, and I swear to God I’ll marry you.”

“You think I’m going to marry a no-good outlaw?” You ask him, tears overflowing.

“I’ll earn some money somehow, even if I have to pan it from a spring myself.”

You laugh, kiss him, hold his face in your hands and dare to dream of the future.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. I will never stop loving you until the day I die.”

Arthur’s eyes glimmer, and even without words you know the truth that lies in his gaze. Arthur will never leave you. Never again.

“Let’s go.” You whisper against his lips. “Let’s go be free.”

You ride west. In the empty house where he found you, yarrow blooms red in the sunlight.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan smut #I'm done looking at this take it

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