#has this been done before? fuck if i know

[chiscaralight]

nsfw kinich x fem reader. i love him, i miss him, choking, repaying favors iykyk

i’m so sorry but you know the part at the end of the last scions of the copy tribal quest where kinich says:

'promise me, if you need anything in the future you’ll come to me.’

so on a particularly tough night where your fingers aren’t doing enough, and humping your folded pillows insnt helping, you find yourself stumbling towards his home in the dead of the night. he swings the door open when he realizes it’s you, questioning why you’re here at such a weird hour.

“you said if i need anything i could come to you..”

“yeah, i did. what do you need?”

kinich is very precise with his work. it's something he's well known for, but you weren't too familiar with. but now, with his fingers expertly plunging in and out of your cunt as you struggle to keep your legs up, you understand what everyone means now. his face is inches from yours, breath fanning over your face as he studies your pleasured expression. your back is arching off the smooth wood of the door that he had you pressed against mere moments ago after you smashed your lips against his in the doorway.

his tongue is hot against your neck. you're desperately gripping at the wrist that's assaulting your sopping hole, weakly attempting to push it away from the sheer pleasure that's blooming throughout your lower half. you're whining, cries of his name dripping out of your lips as your thighs start to clamp down around your hand. and he's trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants because you came to him for help this time. you'd done a great deal for him, and it would be unfair to take something from you again so soon. but those eyes of yours, they're pleading, begging for him to just fill you up, as much as that perfect body of yours could take.

and he was right to trust his instincts because your cunt is sucking him in so well. his fingers are tight against your throat, pressing down as his free hand moves to wrap around your waist. he has perfect leverage like this, pulling your back against his chest as he fucks into you sharp and hard. your hands are gripping at nothing, the feeling of his cock combined with the lack of oxygen reaching your brain sending you into a sweet spiral. you can't even feel the words leave your mouth, soft whines and pleas surging into his ears as you mindlessly beg.

"i-inside, kinich. please, please-"

it's the least he could do, after everything you've done for him. he's also trying to convince himself that he's doing this for you, not because he's been thinking about pumping you full of his cum. sure, he'd finish his commissions early so he could drag mualani to come and hang out with the two of you, or purposefully rile up ajaw so he'd have a reason to put him in time out, giving him enough privacy to pump his length to the thought of you. but no, this was entirely about what he was willing to give back to you. so he'd free up your neck, letting your body softly drop to the bed, before securing your hips with both of his hands before ruining you. you're fisting the sheets, squealing hard as the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the room, his thrusts are messy and uncalculated, warmth painting your walls as his orgasm waves through the two of you. he's still smacking into you with such fervor, that you can't hold back your own climax, releasing around his still-hard length with a yell.

and he's obsessed with the white ring that's starting to form around the base of his cock from your orgasm. your pretty hole is still fluttering around him as he continues to move. he stills for just a second, then mutters an apology. he knows he's supposed to be assisting you here, but he just can’t help himself. he's going to have to take one more orgasm from you tonight, but he’ll make sure to give you one right back.

[mwagneto]

hungarian/nomadic magyar tumblr circa 998AD dashboard simulator

🏞️ vándor-ló-979 Follow

not yall still spreading emese's foundation myth??? she literally claims she fucked a bird????? like either she's lying or she cheated and she's trying to cover it up or well. i dont even want to consider the third option

🪺 magánügyek Follow

tengri forbid women do anything???

735 notes

🦅 szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay im sick of the discourse let's do this.

8,572 notes

🐎 istván-rovására Follow

that took so long lmao -> !!!!!!!∧◇ᛏ⋈∧

481 notes

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

i'm so serious rn if you support """istván""" in any way just unfollow and block me. we do NOT need him or his dumbass god and what he's been doing to our people to spread his religion is shameful.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

btw we all know your real name is vajk stop larping as a christian it's EMBARRASSINGGGG

✝️ esztergom-örökké Follow

love seeing my mutuals reblogging this /s anyway op has multiple posts on their blog supporting quartering and human sacrifice. in case you were wondering. anyway stand with István

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

1) we dont even do human sacrifices, are you fucking stupid??? show me ONE post where i talk about that. 2) are you seriously forgetting that your bestie istván LITERALLY QUARTERED HIS UNCLE?????

#sorry to put this dumbass on the dash😭 dont even engage just block them #ur not making it up the tree of life lmao #discourse

3,264 notes

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

friendly reminder that just because you're white passing doesn't mean you're not a real magyar!! people with mixed parents are just as valid <3

🏇 attila-népe Follow

cranky coz ur ancestors decided to mix with the europeans arent you

🧺 lemezelő Follow

isnt your girlfriend literally frankish????

🏇 attila-népe Follow

you had to have done some serious stalking to find that💀 and first of all i didn't have a choice, my parents picked the tribe, and second of all she's not my "girlfriend" i got her via ritual kidnapping (WITH consent. before anyone gets weird)

🌐 a-kiber-kovács Follow

Couldn't you have kidnapped another magyar woman? Or someone from another mongoloid tribe?

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

ohh sure so now human pet guy is gonna chime in to advocate for the kidnapping of our women while being lowkey racist. what are you even doing on nomadblr????

🌅 bolygó-kárpáti Follow

what the fuck happened to my post

19,276 notes

🪔 rakabonciás Follow

for the nth time, you're only a true shaman if you were born with teeth OR with extra fingers OR in the sac. the rest of you are faking & we can tell.

🦅szél-könnyű-szárnyán-szállj Follow

okay people keep spreading this but this is literally just wrong?? like congrats on the 6 fingers op im glad u and Little Golden Father have a special connection (genuinely) but like. táltos and sámán and mágus and garabonciás and javas etc are all different things with completely different requirements and life paths which you should definitely know if you're claiming to be one?? especially since your post says shaman but you're listing the criteria for a táltos, and your username looks like a play on garabonciás so. which is it🤔 maybe get your facts in order before trying to gatekeep

anyway don't listen to op!! your connection to the Upper World is yours alone and you're the best judge of what the Fathers and Mothers want your path in life to be!!

646 notes

🛐 mea-culpa Follow

It breaks my heart that the majority of my people still refuse to see the One True God and insist on sticking to their pagan spirits. I fear that when judgement day comes, we will all be wiped out thanks to their foul godless ways.

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

how tf am i godless when i literally have dozens of gods? little mothers and little fathers are in everything all around us & it must suck ass to live in a world where you're not surrounded by the small gods that inhabit everything. manifesting that the fene and the guta tag team beat your ass tonight

🔅 hadúrsimp Follow

hadúr will literally strike op down personally. he told me himself. whispered it to me sweetly even

🐴 csillagösvény Follow

while i agree with you, i feel like you might also have ulterior motives, nomadblr user hadúrsimp

#but live your truth! doubly so on the posts of these freak repressed bible lovers. meanwhile on the #COOL side of magyarhood we walk around butt ass naked!!! op have fun never experiencing joy ever again tho #discourse

198 notes

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

posting from an alt so i don't get cancelled but lowkey i'm starting to think koppány was right.... maybe this christianity thing isn't gonna work out after all

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

WRONG BLOG

👑 sanctus-stephanus Follow

THIS WAS A JOKE. IGNORE THIS

🪺 magánügyek Follow

ISTVÁN????????????? 💀

[darnell-la]

can we get some nsfw of logan heavily infantilizing reader? i know he's a mean mean man and i want him to make us cry 🥺 just wanna be doted on but also fucked like a beast

note: Logan is a very nasty individual in this story. He’s degrading, calls the reader out of her name many times, fucks rough, is manipulative, possessive, and more…

having Logan Howlett claim you are one of the best-given things that could happen.

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“You’re so fuckin’ childish, y/n, do you know that!? So fuckin’ childish!” Logan shouted at the girl as he placed her into his passenger seat. The man slammed the door in her face before walking around to the car.

Y/m scoffed as she crossed her arms, knowing she was wrong for what she’d done tonight, but at least she had fun.

Logan treats y/n like she has no idea what the world is like. Wade speaks to him, telling him he should take it easy because is his friend. Not Logan’s.

“Well, if I’m gonna stay in an apartment with two kids, I expect them to have manners and respect. If not, then I’m out of here,” Logan threatened a few months ago when he first got here.

Y/n had come home drunk out of her mind at three in the morning after Logan and Wade had been worried all night.

Her phone had died. She explained that to them, and Wade understood, but when she came through that door smiling, laughing, and giggling with the friend who dropped her off, it triggered Logan.

“I know pay the bills, and the apartment is his, but I’ll kick you the fuck out, kid,” Logan threatened as he got into the car and started it up, ready to get home and rest without stressing about y/n.

“I’m a grown woman, Logan. If I wanna go out and get drunk with my friends, I can!” Y/n turned towards the man just to yell before turning back towards the door, looking out of the window.

“What kinda fun is that, y/n? You’re a college student, you’ve got classes in the afternoon, you need to study, but instead, you’re out almost every weekend, pissy drunk and begging for a man to touch you,”

“What!? I don’t even go out with men! I reject them all,” y/n said, confused about why he even cared about her getting with anyone.

“Sure you don’t. Every time I pick you up or you walk through that door, you’re dressed sluttier. Every fucking time!” Logan yelled, hands groping the wheel as he drove through the city to head home.

“At this point, you’re just stressing yourself out. Let me live my life like I let you, okay? Fuck!” Y/n complained.

“So slutting around is living life now? God, you kids are fucking dumb,” Logan shook his head. “I don’t slut around!” Y/n basically screamed at the man.

“Lower your fucking tone when you talk to me, young lady!” Logan looked her way. The anger in his voice made her back up, trying to keep a straight face, but it was hard.

“Always fuckin’ yellin'. Can you ever shut the fuck up for once? Just do better in life and shut the fuck up — Grow up! Because you’re a-fucking-nnoying,” the man got out.

Y/n looked out of the window in silence, holding back her tears as the man continued.

“Be a fuckin’ lady, and respect yourself for once. For once!” He hit the wheel, making the girl jump. “Respect me!” The man hit the wheel again, but harder.

Y/n wiped a tear from her cheek quickly so he wouldn’t notice, but he did. Once he did, the man laughed to himself. “Unbelievable,” the man shook his head, disappointed in her.

“You can yell at me, but when I start yellin’ and tellin’ you what you look like, you start carrying. Fucking pathetic. Seriously!”

Logan didn’t mean to hurt the girl's feelings. He was just angry. He hated seeing her out and doing things he didn’t want her to do. Why can’t she just listen to him? Why does she need other people to make her happy when she has Wade and him at home.

The rest of the car ride was silent. Y/n wouldn’t sniff here and there, but low so she wouldn’t start Logan up again. She was embarrassed and disappointed in herself.

Right as Logan parked the car, y/n pulled on the handle to get out, but he had locked the door before she could.

“Looks y/n-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off. “Let me out,” y/n said with a stern voice. “Y/n, just hear me out-“ he tried to say again. “Let me out!” She yelled, not even looking at the man.

“Hey!” Logan reached for her arm and grabbed it tightly. Y/n tried yanking herself away, but he was stronger. “Let me go!” Y/n yelled, only angering the man further. He had become obvious to the strength he had.

“Ow, Logan!” Y/n shouted at the man, but all he did was grip harder. “Stay still, y/n!” Logan demanded. “You're hurting me!” She finally said as tears streamed from her eyes.

The way she looked at the man in pain, not just from his grip, but more so from his words. Looking into his eyes, he realized he had gone too far.

“Y/n,” Logan said low as she fought the man, slapping his hand, but he wouldn’t let go. He only loosened his grip. “Let me go!” She could barely yell, only cry.

Logan shifted his body and lifted his other hand to cup her cheek. When he did, she tried shaking her head to get him off, but it wouldn’t leave.

“Please!” She cried, but Logan didn’t let her leave. All he did was let her arm go, only to push her seat back and hover over her quickly, the other hand still on her cheek.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Logan said, but she couldn’t stop. She sobbed as she weakly slapped Logan’s body, telling him to leave her alone, but that was the last thing he was going to do.

“Baby, look at him — It’s okay, just look at me,” Logan said as he placed the other hand on her other cheek, forcing her to look at him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, okay? I’m sorry,” Logan spoke. That was when y/n cried harder with no words. “Aw, baby,” Logan said, trying to wipe her tears away, but they kept rolling.

“All I wanted was for you to be safe, baby. That it. It’s dangerous out here. You can’t just be goin’ out every night, looking the way you do. You just can’t,” Logan said.

“If you wanna drink, we got it at the house. You know that. No more goin’ out, and you won’t look like this anymore,” he said, hoping to manipulate her into staying in the house, and in his sight.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Logan said and kept repeating until she ducked in her cries. It took her a while, but she managed.

“Please understand that I want you safe, y/n. Do you understand that?” Logan asked. Y/n slowly nodded her head with a sniff, making him smile slightly.

“That’s it, baby. All I want is for my baby to be safe — No more goin’ out after tonight. Maybe with me, but I have to be by your side. It’s too dangerous,” he said.

“B-But my friends,” y/n sniffed. “They’ll be fine, baby. They love you and will understand. You want me to trust you and not be stressed out, right? You want me to be? I’m gettin’ old, and ion needa be stressin’ about my girl,” Logan said.

Y/n nodded her head, halfway understanding what he wanted, but not fully. She didn’t ask though. She just knew by the way he always acted that he wanted her in sight and safe with no funny business.

“Good, baby, good,” Logan said, looking into the girl's eyes as she looked back up at him, eyes bloody and eyelashes batting.

“You’re too pretty to be seen without me, baby, and you know that, don’t you? Don’t you, baby?” Logan asked, making her nod again.

“That's right, and you're sorry for disobeying me, right?” He asked. The way he spoke to her, made her feel like she’s actually done something wrong.

“S-Sorry,” she said low. A groan slipped past the man’s lips at her words and voice. She was too sweet to believe she was real.

“Ah huh, and are you gonna show me just how sorry you are?” He asked. Y/n surprisingly nodded quickly, wanting him to know that she meant nothing personal by the way she lived.

“Good girl — Now turn around for me,” Logan said. Her mind wasn’t honking straight, but she did as told, apologizing for her body rubbing on his as she did so. “It’s okay, baby - You’re all good,”

“I’m just a little angry, and you understand that, right? It’s acceptable to why I am, right, baby?” He asked her, making her him with a nod.

“Ah huh, and you’re gonna help me relax, right, baby?” He asked and she repeated what she had done before, but more shaky. “That right,”

Logan began unbuckling his belt, watching the girl underneath him shiver from how drunk she was, the cold air coming through the cracked window, her crying session, and the confusion of this situation.

“Never listenin’ to me, baby. I don’t like that,” Logan said before giving y/n a hard slap on her ass that was covered in her tight thin dress. A whine had slipped from her mouth, only making the man groan.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna bring all this anger right out on and into you, baby,” Logan said as he pulled himself out. “And guess what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna lay here, and take it like the disrespectful little slut you are,”

Y/n whined at his words, feeling shitty for not being respectful towards the older man, but she’ll soon understand to listen.

“Every time I pick you up or watch you walk through those doors, you’re fuckin’ soaked. I just know you’re out and about, waiting for some random man to offer his cock,”

“I know you’re whore enough to take it too, now ain’t you?” Logan asked. “N-No,” y/n shook her head with a whine as he pulled her dress up, revealing her dark wet patch.

“Sure you’re not, baby. You know the drunk sluts always say that, right? Until they’re caught being stuffed and fucked in some bar bathroom,”

Y/n whined again at his comment about what he thought of her as his fingers hooked around her pants. The man pulled his fingers back, causing the panties to rip perfectly.

“You wanna be treated like some dirty slut at the bar?” Logan asked as he put his cock in his hand. “No,” y/n truly spoke, but he didn’t believe her.

The man grabbed a handful of her hair and then pushed her head into the seat. “Are you sure, baby? Because you’re gonna spreading in my passenger seat just like them club whores,”

Before y/n could say anything, the man laughed into her, forcing his huge length through her walls, knowing she would barely be able to take him.

“Logan!” Y/n cried out loud, voice crazy as she gripped and clawed at the seats. “Nah uh, you shut the fuck up!” Logan spat through his teeth as he leaned over and into the girl's ear.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, I know you want this. You always do. Comin’ back from the fuckin’ bar all soaked and full of attitude. I just know you rub that shit in my face,”

“I fuckin’ know you come through those doors wanting me to fuck your drunk ass through my mattress,” the man snapped his hips hard.

“Oh yeah? Can't take it?” Logan asked as the young girl cried in pain and pleasure. “S-Sorry, sorry,” she quickly whined as she back arched.

“No, you’re fucking not. You’re only sayin’ it now because I’m fucking this cunt dumb,” Logan growled in the girl's ear as he tugged on her hair.

“Slutty fuckin’ cunt - Grippin’ me like she ain’t been fucked in the club already,” Logan said, making the girl shake her head.

“N-No,” she managed to say. “Oh yeah? You’re tellin’ me no man has been in this cunt at the club? Fuckin’ you silly in the bathroom as you pass out from the liquor?” Logan asked.

He had already known the answer, but he was angry. He wanted to get everything out. If he could smell how wet she was every weekend, he could smell a man on her, and thankfully for her, he never has.

“N-No,” y/n whined as she came around him without warning. He hadn’t cared that she soaked his leather seats. All he cared about was how could he could fuck he’d. Maybe if he fucked he’d be good enough, she wouldn’t dare leave the apartment again.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You don’t let another man touch you. Never!” He pounded, knowing the wind out of her with every thrust.

“I swear, if you do, baby, ima kill him. Ima fuckin’ kill him then lock your ass in my room,” Logan threatened, only making y/n moan.

“My fuckin’ cunt — Mine! All fuckin’ mine and you know it. You’ve been known it, Bub, and because you wanted to play games, I’m gonna teach you what the fuck happens when you do,”

Logan took the seatbelt to the car and tied it around her wrist after pulling them man. The man soon continued his anger by slamming into her until she cried, begging him to stop.

He was rough, but y/n knew deep down that she deserved it. She was disrespectful and didn’t listen to him. He should get what he wants.

“You're mine, right, baby? All mine to use like those I want at the bar and club?” Logan asked as y/n could barely keep herself conscious. “Y-Yes,” was all she could get out.

“That’s my girl,”

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k

a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here

── .✦

“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 

“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 

He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 

You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 

The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 

“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 

The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 

Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 

She shrugs, “Need a snack.”

Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 

“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 

“Candy?”

“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”

She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 

Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 

And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 

You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 

Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 

You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 

“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 

Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 

“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 

“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 

A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 

Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”

She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 

When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 

“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 

“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 

It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 

Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 

Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 

You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 

“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 

Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 

“You want to?” He asks.

She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 

“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 

“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 

Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 

You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.

He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 

Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 

“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  

And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 

Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 

“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 

She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”

You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 

She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 

“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 

She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  

“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 

She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 

“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 

“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 

“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 

She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 

“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 

“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 

She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 

“Why only sometimes?” 

She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 

“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 

Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 

You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 

“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  

“No? Why’s that?” 

“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 

“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 

Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.

“Why not?”

“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 

“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 

“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.

You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 

Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 

You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  

“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 

“I’m coloring my family.” 

“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 

“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 

“What? Why’s that silly?” 

She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 

“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 

“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”

“What! Why does he think that?” 

Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 

“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”

She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 

“It is! You can’t tell?” 

She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 

You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”

Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 

“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”

“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.

The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 

“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”

“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 

She bobs her head animatedly. 

“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 

“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 

“Well, does she live with you?”

Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”

“She sort of lives with you?”

“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 

“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”

“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 

Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 

“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 

“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 

“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 

“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 

“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  

“White!” 

“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 

“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 

You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 

“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”

“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 

“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 

You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 

Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 

“Your dad is very right about that.” 

She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”

“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 

And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 

The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  

“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 

Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 

Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 

“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”

She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 

Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 

“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 

“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 

He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 

She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 

His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”

Penelope huffs. 

“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 

She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 

If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 

“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 

“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 

You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”

Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 

The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 

She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 

Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 

A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”

“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 

Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 

“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 

“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 

You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”

“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”

“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.

“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.

She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 

“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 

Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 

“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 

Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”

Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”

“Thank you for helping me clean!”

Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 

His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”

She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”

“A million? Surely not.” 

“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 

His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 

You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”

A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 

Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 

You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”

“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 

“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 

“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 

You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 

“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 

Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”

“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 

“I can! I did at school!”

“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 

Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 

“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 

“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 

“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 

Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 

You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 

“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 

“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 

“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 

She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 

“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 

“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.

You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 

“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”

“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  

Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 

She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 

Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 

He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 

She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”

“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  

He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”

“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 

“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 

“Better help her look then.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 

“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”

“Well, maybe next time.” 

You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 

You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 

“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 

“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  

“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 

“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”

“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 

“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 

He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 

“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 

“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 

You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 

“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 

A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.

[muzaktomyears]

Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed

they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great 

before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread

John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED

when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap

when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on

John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk

some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)

instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)

'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)

George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.

"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)

"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit

"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight

when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)

the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......

they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.

the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.

Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")

the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)

Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him

during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say

I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre

the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)

Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)

they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)

John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings

when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess

the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????

yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek

anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU

[kingdomvel]

Steddie | 2.3k | first part

“Okay, what was that?” Gareth asks the moment they are inside the room they are using as a dressing room for tonight.

“What was what,” Eddie answers.

“You know damn well what I mean.”

Eddie doesn’t answer, putting his best poker face on.

“That weird mating ritual you have been performing with the boy in the front row the whole night, maybe?” Jeff adds.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Eddie says, his voice flat as he tries to avoid the other’s gazes. He takes a towel to dab at his forehead.

“Come on, man,” Freak butts in, “you told him to stay after the concert, you have told Chrissy to get them here. We said we were not going to be that kind of band, that we were going to be like My Chemical Romance: no groupies and after concert dnd sessions.”

“Yeah, if you go with that guy what happens to our dnd session.”

“We can play dnd any other day, okay?” Eddie snaps, his hands stretched in front of him. A part of him thinks he looks like that meme of Chris Pratt in front of the dinosaurs, the other part of him detests that he thought of him. “I will make it up to you.”

“Who are you and what have you done to our DM?” Freak asks, his voice serious.

“Yeah, what is this talk about postponing dnd for some boy?” Gareth adds, there is something in his tone Eddie doesn’t like.

“Some boy? Some boy? Am I the only one with eyes in this fucking band? He is the hottest person that has laid eyes on me and I’m not letting you fuckers take that opportunity from me for one session of dnd or I swear to God I am killing every one of your characters.”

The boys don’t answer, they look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Wow” a voice says from behind Eddie.

He doesn’t recognize the voice but the expressions on the rest of the band in front of him make him freeze. They go from slightly annoyed to wary and to bemused. Mainly a mix of all at the same time.

The sounds of steps approaching them break the silence that had fallen in the room, before a voice finishes breaking it.

“How does dnd work with you nerds anyway, are you all bards or what?”

The boys drop their mouths open. Eddie still doesn’t recognize the voice, but there is only one person it can belong to. He sounds just as good as he had imagined. Eddie is honestly afraid of turning around after what the boy- Steve- has surely heard.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” a woman’s voice says. There’s the sound of a hit and a quiet ‘ow’ from Steve under it. “He is just trying to sound all confident after whining-“

“Robin.”

“Telling me to not get my hopes up because he probably wasn’t anyone important and you just did this every concert-“

“Robin.”

“But of course he is the luckiest bitch in this planet and has his instant crush reciprocated and-“

“Enough!”

There are some muffled noises that Eddie can only guess are the girl trying to continue speaking. He wishes she wouldn’t stop. His knight in shining armour may be embarrassed, but the rant has put a smile on Eddie’s face, has given him confidence again. He crosses his legs and turns around slowly, his hands coming up beside him.

“By all means, let her continue.”

The adonis, the hottest man that has laid eyes on him, his knight in shining armour, Steve takes his hand away from the girl’s mouth and rubs it on his jeans. Eddie can only guess the girl has licked it. God he wants to be her so bad right now.

“Hey,” Steve says, his hand coming up for a small wave. “Sorry about Robin.”

“No need for that. I’m Eddie.”

“I know,” Steve answers with a cocky smile as he crosses his arms.

“Oh and now you are acting all full of yourself as if you didn’t ask for the name of the band like 20 times 2 hours ago.” Robin says.

“Will you please just shut the fuck up?” Steve asks with the confidence only a best friend can have.  

“Not a fan then?” Eddie asks amused.

“Not really my scene,” Steve answers. There is a scoff behind Eddie, and if he wasn’t so lost in Steve’s brown eyes, he may have moved to swat whoever it was. “But I sure am a fan now.”

There is now a groan behind Eddie, but he can only focus on the way his heart jumps at the words, the way Steve’s mouth lifts in one side in a smirk, how his eyes spark.  

“I can get you front row tickets to all the gigs, baby.”

There’s a gagging noise being Eddie, and this time he does turn around to swat at Gareth. The little shit just laughs at him.

When he turns back towards Steve he is looking between them with a smile on his lips and he looks- damn- he’s been looking beautiful since he saw him at the beginning of the concert that night, but now his hair is a mess from the almost two hours of sweating and moving around and Eddie’s on stage confidence is slowly being replaced by his fast beating heart.

“Look man I-“ Steve starts, “I don’t want to be a problem,” he adds, glancing behind Eddie as he bites his lip. The girl next to him- Robin- turns to him with an incredulous look on her eyes that Eddie is sure mirrors his own. “But you are hot, I want to take you on a date, and the others wanted to meet you.”

Robin rolls her eyes and looks at Eddie with an eyebrow up.

“The others?” Eddie manages to say, just before he remembers the teenagers around Steve all night.

“Yeah, they are with Chrissy, I asked them to give us five minutes before coming.”

Eddie is about to say something, maybe ask about the date Steve mentioned, but in a second the door is filled with said teenagers, the one with the curly hair in the middle of it.

“YOU GUYS ARE LEGENDS!” he exclaims. It makes Eddie less annoyed about being interrupted. No one has really called them legends before, they have just surpassed 150k listeners in Spotify.

It feels good hearing it.

The dressing room fills with chatter fast, the boys and the teenagers getting along without problem. They take photos, talk about music, about their instruments, about their dnd tradition. The bad part of it all is that Eddie gets separated from Steve. He catches his eye at some point and Steve sends a little wave his way that he answers. He is talking with Robin and Chrissy and, by what Eddie can hear, Chrissy is getting every video Robin has managed to get of Eddie’s and Steve’s interactions through the concert, even a closer video of the kiss than the one Chrissy managed to get. From what he can hear, she wants to post everything on their social media before ‘someone else does and steals the chance at going viral from them’.

Eddie doesn’t know how he feels about posting Steve like that, Eddie should have probably thought, about that before making out with the guy in front of all their audience. But he seems completely comfortable with all of it. Eddie guesses that comes with being as hot as Steve is and knowing it.

It’s some time later, enough that Eddie knows they won’t be able to stay much longer in the venue, that he finally has a chance to slip away. It’s perfect, he has just seen Steve leave the dressing room, probably in search of the toilet, and Gareth and the curly hair boy he has learned is called Dustin are so deep in conversation they don’t notice him stepping away from them and leaving too.

He catches Steve just as he is leaving the toilet. Eddie doesn’t stop to answer Steve’s surprised ‘oh, hey’ that turns into a more surprised ‘woah’ as Eddie pushes him back into the toilet and closes the door behind him.

“Hey” Eddie finally greets. Steve only looks at the closed door behind Eddie and then at him again with what Eddie hopes is amusement. God, he really hopes it’s amusement, he is just not realising how creepy this looks. “So, about that date.”

“Couldn’t wait until I came back?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Why is it so difficult to talk with a pretty boy? Eddie takes a deep breath, composes himself. Theatrics, he is good with those, they make him confident. “I was suffering, being deprived from your company by your companions, and didn’t have another option.”

Steve squints his eyes, “so you decided to have the date in the toilet?”

“What? No.”

Steve takes a step closer to Eddie so now their chests are almost touching. It hadn’t downed on Eddie before how they are almost the same height. It feels very important now when he has Steve’s face right in front of him, when he can look directly at his eyes, at how they drift down to Eddie’s lips. When his inevitably drift to Steve’s lips, the boy is biting his lower lip. “Eager.”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, he may have miscalculated this. There’s something he wanted to say. “No, I-“

Steve chuckles, takes a step back. ��Relax dude. I know you haven’t really agreed to the date yet, we got interrupted and all that.” Eddie is about to speak, to agree a thousand times to the date, but Steve keeps talking. “You just offered to buy me a couple of drinks and called me hot,” he smiles when he says that.

“I want the date.” Eddie says before Steve can keep talking, “as soon as possible.”

Steve steps back closer. “Eager.”

“We are leaving on tour, won’t be back for three months.” Eddie explains before all his brain functions completely shut down.

“I can wait three months.”

“I can’t.”

The next second Steve’s lips are on his, his hands are on his hair, and it only takes a second for Eddie’s to do the same. Steve is even a better kisser than he was in front of the audience. Steve pushes him against the door, brings a hand to his hip, pushes one of his legs between Eddie’s. Eddie just groans and lets himself be pushed and moved. Kissed. “Fuck,” he whispers when Steve pulls away for breath. Steve smiles, takes one of Eddie’s hands in his, and kisses him again. It’s so sweet and filthy at the same time Eddie might cry, but he just moves his hips forward, and Steve answers in kind, grinding against him and getting a groan out of both of them. Maybe the rockstars that hook up with people after concerts are onto something. Though Eddie doubts he would want to do this with someone that is not Steve.

A knock on the door startles them both, Robin’s voice coming from the other side.

“Steve?” Steve and Eddie stop kissing to look at each other in silence, their eyes wide. “Chrissy said we need to leave already and you’ve been in there so long I started to worry you were kidnapped. Wait, you are in there, right? Also, have you seen Eddie? He disappeared.” Steve moves, an innocent thing that has his groin brushing against Eddie’s. And he is only a man. He moans. “WAIT! Are you both in there? GROSS.”

Steve snorts, making Eddie smile. They can hear a couple of steps moving away from the door before they come back and there is a bang on the door.

“Steve! Come out you dingus, have you forgotten about your pack of kids?”

Steve lets out a whispered ‘fuck’ before he looks at Eddie with an apology in his eyes. Eddie lets himself be moved away from the door so Steve can open it to talk to his friend outside.

“Hey.”

Eddie opens the door more so he can also fit in the gap, Steve sends him a look, smiles at his appearance, and then looks at Robin again.

“Hey” Eddie greets too. Robin is looking at them and there is no hiding what they have been doing. She can surely see their bruised lips, their wild hair. Eddie just prays she doesn’t look down and sees the bulge in his pants.

“You two are gross, was making me see that once tonight not enough?”

“You have not really seen it this time,” Steve points.

“Still.”

“You are the one that came to interrupt.”

“And for a good reason! Your kids.”

“What about the kids,” Eddie asks.

“He promised to take them home.” Robin says.

“I promised to take them home.” Steve says at the same time, a resigned tone in his voice. He turns to Eddie, his brown eyes sad, and pinches his nose.

“Can’t she take them home?” Eddie points to Robin, and they both turn towards her again.

Robin takes a breath, stops, looks at them, looks at them, sees the tent in Eddie’s pants. Grimaces.

“FINE,” she agrees, and Eddie grins. “But you owe me. Big time.” She adds pointing at Steve.

“I’ll give you ice cream for life.” Steve says. It must be an inside joke because it makes Robin roll her eyes.

“Give me your car keys at least. Rockstar here can drive you home, can’t he?”

“I’ll have him home before eleven.” Eddie swears with a hand on his chest. The other two stare at him in silence. “A.m.” he adds.

“You heard him.” Steve says while handing Robin his keys.

“Okay,” Robin answers. She takes a step back. “Have fun.” She takes a couple of steps away before she turns around. “Use protection, he is a rockstar, we don’t know where his thing has been.”

“Hey,” Eddie protests, but Robin is already running away.

“She is kinda right.” Steve says with a shrug. Eddie purses his lips. “But I have an idea on where it can be in the near future.”

“Lead the way.”

Steve slips his hand into Eddie’s.

[archangeldyke-all]

I saw this post and said "I HAVE to see if angel sees Sevika in this."

https://www.tumblr.com/sappho-made-me-do-it/761835077309186048?source=share

So what about Reader and Sevika doing a scene and Reader always gets super flustered when Sevika asks her "tell me who you belong to" with a hand around Reader's throat? So flustered that Sevika always has to ask if she wants to continue. (The answer is still yes lol)

GOD this is so sevika coded it isn't even funny (especially now that we know she's choking cait out in season 2, my girl just loves choking)

men and minors dni

"you like that, baby?" sevika asks from behind you. she's been fucking you into the mattress for half an hour now, and she can clearly tell that you like it by the way you're whining and moaning and shaking beneath her. still. she likes hearing you say it.

"fuck, sev, fuck, fuck, fuck, i love it, i love it, i love it sevika." you babble. you're practically incoherent. sevika loves it.

"you're just so fuckin' cute, y'know?" she teases as she reaches forward and pulls you out of the mattress with a hand to your shoulder. "cryin' on my dick-- fuck i love you. i love this cunt-- love how fuckin' messy you are for me. look at you."

she smacks your ass and you squeal. "sevika-- i'm so fuckin' close." you whine. sevika chuckles and lets go of your shoulder. you collapse back onto the bed and squeak when she pulls out of you. "wha!?" you whine. "why'd you--" you cut yourself off with another squeal when sevika flips you onto your back.

"wanted to see your pretty face when you cum." she explains as she lines her strap back up with your entrance. you reach up and cover your face-- embarrassed by her words. sevika grunts and shoves back inside you, smacking your hands away from your face. "lemme see." she demands.

you give up on trying to hide, letting your hands flop down to grab sevika's hips as she fucks you. "i love you, sev." you whimper as you start to fall apart.

"fuck, i love you too." a shudder runs all the way down your spine at her words, and sevika smirks. "gonna cum?" she asks. you nod desperately underneath her. she chuckles, and reaches down with one hand to wrap it around your throat. "i'll let you cum, baby. just tell me who you belong to first."

you must black out.

one moment sevika's fucking you mindless, her hand around your throat-- and the next she's still between your legs, blinking down at you with concern, both her hands cupping your face.

you blink up at her. "wha? why'd you stop?" you ask-- your voice shaky.

sevika snorts a bit, blinking at you like you're crazy. "are you okay?" she asks. you frown.

"y-yeah? a little pissed i'm still waiting to cum but--"

"baby, you just came so hard you passed out! i was worried i actually choked you out." sevika chuckles. "i was about two seconds away from calling a fuckin' ambulance-- no idea how i'd explain that to the paramedics."

as you take in your surroundings, you realize that she's probably right-- if the way your cunt's fluttering around her strap and the puddle of cum under your ass is anything to go by.

you burst into giggles. "well that's what you get for being so fuckin' hot! shit, sevika, gimmie a warning before you try 'n kill me next time, okay?" you ask.

sevika sighs in relief and melts on top of you, giggling and kissing your skin anywhere she can reach. "you had me fuckin' worried." she mumbles.

you giggle. "did you finish?" you ask.

"no, but we're done for tonight-- i nearly shat myself when you passed out, i'm not feeling sexy anymore." she says. you snort.

"hmm. that's a shame." you say, wrapping your legs and arms around her as you speak. sevika glares up at you, knowing the mischievous tone in your voice.

"why's that?" she asks.

"well, if you were still in the mood-- i'd answer your question for you." you say, trying to make your voice as sultry as possible. sevika raises an eyebrow at you.

"what question?"

"who i belong to." you remind her. "mmm. i wouldn't just answer it either, i'd show you."

sevika groans and bites your shoulder, and you burst into laughter as her hips start to move against yours again.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[gingersxng]

Puppy Love

Pairing: f!reader cocker spaniel hybrid x Ateez big!dog hybrids

Genre: smut 18+, fluff

Summary: how would the members act around you when you’re in heat? Some of them can handle it better than others but some have it a bit tougher..

Notes: breeding, breeding kink, pregnancy, bigdick!yungi, knotting, unprotected sex (don’t), degrading, praising, manhandling, marking, heat, much testosterone, aggression, muzzling, fighting, oral, anal sex, cuddling, kissing, bulge kink, scenting, humping, lots of creampies, teasing, bondage. May have forgot something!

a/n: this has been in the making for awhile and I’m finally done and before anyone comes at me.. I know I didn’t make Yunho a golden retriever, cause in this case I felt like a golden isn’t that big, I feel like a Pyrenees dog suits him better. They’re bigger and looks almost like a golden. Thank you!

Words: ??

Akita!hybrid Hongjoong

Hongjoong is a dominant akita hybrid.

He will stand between you and danger, growling and baring his teeth.

He likes to protect you and keep you close, always by his side.

Hongjoong is a bit rough in the bedroom.

He likes to be a bit aggressive and manhandle you.

He is not afraid to mark you, leaving little bruises and hickeys.

He likes when you are on your hands and knees, your ass in the air and your tail raised.

He likes to grab your hips and pound into your pussy, his cock stretching you.

Hongjoong loves taking control and being dominant.

He will pull you onto his cock and have you sit there, your tight heat enveloping him.

Hongjoong loves it when you ride him.

He likes seeing the faces and noises you make and how your tits bounce as you fuck yourself on his dick.

He loves hearing you beg and moan his name, your pretty mouth open and spit drooling down your chin.

Hongjoong also is into breeding kink.

He loves the idea of filling you up with his cum and knocking you up.

His eyes will be glued to your stomach and he will have a hand on it, rubbing the small bump.

Hongjoong would dote on you and take care of you throughout the pregnancy and after the pups are born.

The akita hybrid would be extremely protective and will growl at anyone who gets near you and his pups.

Bauceron!hybrid Seonghwa

Seonghwa is a pervy and dominant bauceron hybrid who loves to fuck..

He is a dom.

Seonghwa is addicted to how good your pussy feels around him, so much so that he could stay inside you for hours at a time.

He wouldn't even care if his cum was already gushing out of your hole, he wanted to keep you on his cock and locked to him, he wanted to pump your little tummy full of his puppies.

The sight of your body, so small and delicate compared to his own, it made him wanna fuck you till you broke.

Seonghwa also loves to fuck you in the living room where anyone could walk in and see you getting destroyed by him, the thought of other people watching made him cum so hard.

But he don’t want anyone else to touch you, only him, he was the only one allowed to fuck you and make you his.

He loves to mark you up, his big teeth would sink into the junction between your neck and shoulder while his knot would be lodged deep inside of you, he liked the taste of blood and seeing the dark bruise blossom over the bite mark.

It makes his alpha instincts purr happily, knowing that the others would be able to smell him on you and they wouldn't even dare try and touch you.

Seonghwa is just obsessed with breeding you and seeing the proof of his cum dripping out of you, he couldn’t get enough.

All perverse actions aside, when he finally got to be a father he would be the softest and happiest ever, he would protect you and the puppies at all costs and do everything to keep you safe.

Pyrenees!hybrid Yunho

Yunho is an excited pyrenees hybrid.

He is constantly bouncing around and wants to do something.

He likes to play games with you and chase each other around the house, his fluffy ears twitching and his tail wagging.

Yunho is a big dom.

He will take charge and flip you over onto your hands and knees and pound into your pussy.

His cock is slightly bigger than a human's and he will make you beg and cry out.

Yunho is a breed and breeding kink kind of hybrid.

He will always have his hands on your hips, squeezing the skin, and his eyes glued to your ass and pussy.

He has no problem with breeding you.

When you are in heat, he is more than happy to mount you and breed you, his cock pushing inside and his knot growing.

He loves to press down onto the huge bulge under your skin, feeling how deep inside he is, all the way up in your cervix.

He doesn’t care who is around when his dick is buried inside of you. As long as he gets to fuck you full.

Aftercare is a must for Yunho, he loves being rough with you but he always feels that he needs to show you the double amount of love and affection afterwards instead.

He’ll cuddle you in his arms, his warm chest calming you down after your highs.

Will be very protective around you and your puppies, but won’t be as aggressive towards other males as the other hybrids.

Dobermann!hybrid Yeosang

Yeosang is a very laid back but kinda rough dobermann hybrid.

He’s another hybrid that’s very protective over you and would do anything to keep you out of trouble.

He’s guarding you day and night.

In bed he’s very rough but also gentle time to time, there’s very much biting and marking during sex, he loves to sink his long whites into your skin and hear you whimper.

He’s more a dom than a sub.

He would never call you any degrading words ever, he would praise you to the fullest.

He loves to fuck you missionary when he can see your pretty eyes look up at him when he puts his cum into you.

He loves when you tug at his pointy ears as he goes rougher and harder, it gives him more confidence.

People would say he wouldn’t hurt a fly but this hybrid can switch from cute to scary very quick.

Tho he has a soft side he can get aggressive when his hormones are at its highest, he often ends up in a fight with some of the other hybrids when they’re in heat and is forced to wear a muzzle until he’s calmed down.

Nothing can come in the way of you two, he’s overly protective of you especially when you’re pregnant with his litter.

His little tail is wagging when he see how safe you feel in his presence.

Husky!hybrid San

San is an soft and laid back husky hybrid.

He also loves to play with you and chase you around, nipping at your curly ears and tail.

Once he has you pinned under him, he will rub himself all over you, scenting you with his natural husky smell.

He loves to eat your pussy, his long tongue lapping and licking your folds.

He has no shame, his big ice blue eyes staring up at you as his tongue swirls around your clit.

You love his perfectly dorito shaped ears and how his tail wags when he pleases you.

You don’t mind giving him attention and loving on him, letting him hump your leg and grind his cock into you.

He has no problem cumming early and then wanting to go again and again.

He is a very happy boy and has no shame. He doesn't care what others think and has no boundaries.

San is a switch.

He loves when you ride his cock, bouncing on his dick and grinding down on him.

He likes the sight of your tits bouncing and his cock disappearing inside of your pussy.

San is a bit possessive and a bit clingy. He will constantly be attached to you and has no problem scenting you, especially around other male hybrids.

No one is to touch his bitch!

He will give them a warning growl and glare, maybe even give them the “wolf smile”.

A real gentleman through your pregnancy, he’ll literally be on his knees for you and be very gentle with you.

Loves to caress your swollen belly, maybe even talk to it.

San will also give you little kisses and lick at your cheek and ears, nipping playfully and tugging.

He is the perfect daddy.

Great Dane!hybrid Mingi

Mingi is a big and intimidating looking but actually is a softy and himbo great dane hybrid.

His sex drive is off the charts tho and when he met you, a small cocker spaniel hybrid his hormones went through the roof.

He’d be kinda rough with you in bed and let’s not talk about his big cock pounding into your small cunt from behind..

He uses his power and big body as an advantage to manhandle you and hold you in place.

Mingi is an Alpha and a proud one. He loves when you get needy and clingy and even more needy during your heat, soaking wet and begging for his knot and cum.

He loves seeing your belly swell and your body change to accommodate his pups.

Mingi also loves to breed your ass, his long thick cock stuffing your hole full of his cum as you moan and whine under him.

He likes to be a little degrading, calling you names like slut and whore while he fucks you, making sure you know your place and that you are only there for him and his pleasure.

He likes to leave bruises on you, marking his territory, making sure everyone knows you belong to him. Sometimes tho he gets a little to testosterony and actually hurts you, a week or two with a muzzle usually helps him calm down.

When you’re pregnant with his pups, he is the most protective out of the hybrids. Usually shouts at strangers to “fuck off” with his deep strong voice when they’re nearing you.

Mingi has his nose pressed into your stomach every night, purring and cooing to his pups inside of you.

He takes care of you throughout the pregnancy and then he spoils you even more once the pups are born.

Mingi is all about you and the pups and you couldn't ask for anything better, and if someone as much as come near you or the puppies, the guard dog instincts kick in.

Dalmatian!hybrid Wooyoung

Wooyoung is a dalmatian hybrid and he is the biggest flirt.

He will constantly flirt with you and touch you, his hands running over your body.

Wooyoung will be the one to initiate sex.

He will always have a hand on your thigh or waist and will be the first to kiss you.

He is a switch.

He likes to take and be in charge but will also enjoy it when you take control and use him for your pleasure.

He likes being a good boy.

Wooyoung would enjoy being tied up and restrained, forced to just lay there and take your cunt.

He likes it when you sit on his face and use him.

You are never bored with Wooyoung around.

He is a very active person and enjoys having fun.

He is playful and loves to cuddle. Wooyoung would enjoy being tied up and restrained, forced to just lay there and take your cunt.

He would make you chase him around and wrestle, tackling you and pressing his nose into your neck and shoulder, breathing in your scent.

Wooyoung loves being taken care of, but he loves taking care of you as much.

He likes to act spoiled and have his head in your lap as you play with his hair as he whisper sweet nothings to you.

He’s one of the calmer hybrids when it comes to you being pregnant, as long as strangers don’t come too close to you, then he may have to step up but as long as they keep their distance it’s not a problem.

He’ll love to play with the pups and help as much as he can, he shows them the do’s and don’ts and how to be a good boy/girl just like their father.

You couldn't ask for anything else from this boy.

Leonberger!hybrid Jongho

Jongho is a big soft yet serious leonberger hybrid.

He loves spending time with you, just doing lazy stuff.

He has no shame when it comes to sex.

He is constantly teasing you and gives you stares.

Jongho is a huge dom.

He likes to take charge and use you.

He likes to tie you up and tease you.

Jongho also loves to praise you for being a good little girl.

Jongho loves eating pussy.

He can do it for hours.

He has a lot of energy and can last forever.

He loves the taste of your juices and can spend the entire night eating you out, his tongue deep inside of you.

He enjoys having you sit on his face and grind your pussy against him.

But to be honest he rather fuck you real good instead, giving you his pups.

He won’t be too protective over you but one wrong move and it’s over, doesn’t like going into conflicts but if he has to he will.

Jongho is an extremely caring hybrid and will always be there to cuddle and comfort you and the puppies, showering you in love and kisses.

He is an absolute giant sweetheart.

[lexawoah13]

TO-DO Oneshot

Synopsis: when a regular shooting of TO-DO has a hitch, the director is left begging his staff to fill in the parts of the models who failed to show up. What could go wrong when you get paired up with Soobin, the man you’ve been crushing on for months?

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, cum talk, fingering, handjob, fantasy play, inappropriate photos, bunny suit, let me know if I miss something!

Word Count: 10K

Tag list(open btw): @sooluving

The day started simple enough. You showed up to work ready to film the TO-DO episode scheduled for today. Setting up the props and getting everything organized before the guys show up for makeup, when you are approached by the director.

“Y/N! We need your help!? PLEASEEE PLEASE SAY YOU’LL DO IT!?” falling to his knees and bowing in desperation.

“Oh god! what’s going on?!”

“The male models that were supposed to show up today for the episode are a no show! We have no idea where they are and we have to begin shooting in 20 minutes. The guys are already fully booked for the rest of the day so we can’t hold them up”

“Okay so what do you want me to….”realization washes over you of what he’s about to ask you ”OH NO! NO! Nonononono NO WAY am i wearing those things in front of THEM” you refute his pleading. There was no way in HELL you were modeling those costumes for the 5 men you considered your friends. Your relationship with the members developed into quite the friendship from sitting in your chair. You hang out with them outside of work and there is no way you are giving them that leverage over you. You would never live it down, especially as long as Beomgyu was alive.

You see, today’s episode was supposed to consist of the guys drawing live models in their respective animal suits. Only it was supposed to be male models in pretty revealing Halloween versions of said animals. You know, corsets, masks, ears, and very short skirts (if you were ever so lucky).

“Y/N PLEASE! You will only have to model 1 and it will be in a private room so the others won't even see you. We will also blur your face when it airs so no one can see you. Actually it will probably be your whole body. PLEASE! pleasepleasepleaseplease PLEASE WE ARE DESPERATE!”

You think it over. “I want what the models were being paid”

“OF COURSE I’ll give you double! Please”

You turn around and mull it over again in your head. To be honest the only two you wouldn’t want to model in front of were Beomgyu and Soobin. Beomgyu for obvious reasons. The menace would torture you afterwards and never let you breathe peacefully without bringing you up in that “bear” costume (if you could even call it that). Soobin on the other hand… it wasn’t because he would be disrespectful or anything, honestly he would probably be the easiest one to model for. But, the fact that you’re completely head over heels for the man and the idea of him seeing you exposed like that makes you want to die. Picturing his eyes on you at all would make you a complete mess.

“I’LL GIVE YOU A RAISE! PLEASE” the director breaks you out of your thoughts.

Fuck you could really use the raise….”how will the outfits be chosen?” you ask, trying to convince yourself to do this for the money.

“Random draw. No one really wants to do this and that seems like the fairest way.”

“Fine.” you exhale, unable to believe you're actually gonna do this. “I’ll do it. But you're also buying me lunch for a month!”

“DONE! You are an absolute godess you know that!”

“Yeah yeah.. Let's get this over with”

You walk over to the other staff who were going to do this with you, seeing a couple of your work friends also in the circle.

“He got you too, huh?” one of the producers asks you

“Yeah…” you say defeated

“Figured he would. Especially since you and the guys are so close” another says from the styling department

“Yea but this is too much… fuck! if i get Soobin or Gyu i’m gonna off myself” you sigh

“Yea i can’t imagine you in front of Soobin, especially in that bunny girl fit. You’re so in love with him it's crazy he hasn't noticed yet” one of the junior assistants teases

“SHHHHHHH! Can you not! What if he pops up and hears you!” you cover her mouth

“Omg they're not even here yet. You know they let us know as soon as they enter the building over the walkies'' the stylist teases

“Ughhhh.. Can we just do this? Put me out of my misery”

“Okay but we have to promise no switches after we pick! Keep it fair! We all know no one wants to be with Beomgyu because of the teasing we will have to endure from him for the rest of our lives. So no whining, just do it!” one of the senior writers says, putting her hand in the middle to signify making a pact.

“Fine!” you place your hand on top of the others showing you agree. The hat is grabbed by your senior and she holds it in the middle “on 3 we all reach in and pick one” everyone nods “1” she starts

“I mean my odds are 3 out of 5”

“2” she side eyes you continuing the countdown

“So it's not that bad. “ you continue trying to reassure yourself

“3”

“It’s only 2 names I don't really want so what are the chances..” you continue rambling while you all reach in for the costumes.

Everyone opens their slips at the same time and you feel your blood turn cold, “fuck” you say under your breath.

Everyone goes around saying their costume

“Fox/ Yeonjun”

“Penguin/ Kai”

“Fucking bear” the stylist says annoyed “kill me now”

“Cat/ Taehyun”

Which only leaves you. Everyone staring with Giant grins plastered on their faces at your horror..

“Bunny… Soobi-”

“They’ve arrived everyone in positions” blasts over the walkies.

‘Fuck. fuck. FUCKKKKK!’ plays over and over again in your brain as you walk to the dressing room, set with your suit.

Opening the door, you see the white satin, corseted one piece. With matching white fluffy ears and wrist bands. Accompanied by white pumps and white thigh high tights, each having white fur on them as well. You also assumed there was a large fluffy white tail on the back of your suit.

The director knocks on the door

“Come in”

“Oh it’s you… see you got the bunny suit…” he cringes for you

“Yeahhhh…” you say barely above a whisper

“This will be interesting” he silently chuckles to himself, resulting in you death glaring him

Clearing his throat “anyways… can you just put your hair up in a high ponytail with some curls? For makeup keep it light but add some extra blush on your nose to look like a ‘bunny nose’”

All you can do is nod

“You’ll be fine. Soobin is a gentleman, which you’re more than aware of. You’ll be in safe hands” he says, patting you on the shoulder before he walks out.

Getting ready is a blur to you. 9284692161 thoughts running through your head about how bad this could go. You’re not ugly by any means but that doesn’t mean you’re not self conscious. You’re on the curvier side, with a full bust and hips, and a pretty juicy ass. This suit is so tiny you can see every roll and ripple from your stretch marks and extra skin. Not to mention it barely covers your womanhood with how small this gusset is. ‘How the fuck were the men gonna hide their dicks in these?’ you think to yourself.

“Kill me now,” you say outloud with a heavy sigh to your empty room.

A knock at your door breaks you out of your self loathing enough to go open it.

“Hey, how are you?” your work bestie asks you as your head peaks though the tiniest hole crack you can manage. You grab her arm and pull her through.

“How do you think I'm doing? This was the BIGGEST MISTAK-” She cuts you off abruptly as she takes in the sight of you.

“Holy shit babe you look incredible”

“Hahahahha funny. You don’t need to say that. I know how ridiculous i look”

“No no I don't think you understand. You mustn’t be seeing yourself cause Soobin is gonna lose his fucking mind when he sees you”

“Yeahhhhh riiighttt..” you stretch out your words

“Yeah babe, he will. Speaking of! I came here to tell you he was asking about you the whole time he was in hair and makeup.”

“What? Why?”

“He said he was worried you were sick or something. Said you also weren’t answering his texts. He sounded pretty bummed actually. When he walked in you could see his head spinning looking for you” she says raising her brows at you suggestively.

“That's just Soobin. That's how he acts with everyone…”

“No babe.. It’s not. He said it was weird without you there. He missed you, I could tell.”

“Yeah just as a friend though! He was just worried ‘cause he couldn't reach me and his anxiety filled ass though I hated him or something.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” she scrunches her eyes at you, disgusted at how you wont believe that Soobin could possibly like you as much as you like him. After all, she sees the way he looks at you everyday.

“Models gather in the common room” the walkie relays

“Fuck! kill me please?” you beg holding your hand in front of your chest as you plead with your bestie.

“Nah hon.. Someones gotta see how hot you look besides me”

“Bitch”

“Love you too! Now off you go! Say hi to Binnie for me!” she blows you a kiss as you walk to the door. Opening it and flipping her off while you close it.

Whistles and cheers can be heard from the minimal staff present as the 5 of you make your way to the common area.

“Yeah yeah everyone pipe down” the director instructs

“First off! Thank you to the 5 amazing ladies who stepped in at the last minute to save our asses! You all look incredible and nothing would be possible without you.” Everyone claps for you all. And all you can think about is how you wish you would turn into an ant and be stepped on. “We are going to bring the guys in shortly and fill them in on today’s task. They however won't know it's you modeling until they enter your private rooms. We will let them in to talk to you first and break the shock. As funny as it would be to release that… I don't think it’s wise for others to know who you are when it airs.” everyone sighs and nods in agreement “so after a very short interaction, we will ask them to leave and we will refilm their “first look”. After that we will leave you all alone. No mics, no cameras besides the polaroids they can use for reference photos. In editing we will blur your faces and bodies so you will not be identifiable.” more sighs of relief were released by the five of you. ”so, any questions?” no one says anything so you rap it up. “Alright then! Let's get you ladies to your rooms and have a great shoot! FIGHTING!” everyone repeats him and goes their own ways.

Once in your room, your anxiety worsens. Your heart beats 1000 miles a minute. Sweaty palms and it’s hard to breathe. Pacing back and forth across the little floor space there was left from the giant easel in the corner. “What am I doing?! This is insane! I can’t do this” you say to yourself. When you hear the doorknob twist. Panic shooting through all the nerves in your body. You stand up straighter, fix your hair to make sure nothing is sticking up and flatten out the suit across your stomach. Turning back on because you don’t think you can face him right away.

The door shuts and you hear Soobin shyly say “annyeonghaseyo” his voice getting higher at the end.

You say it back to him quietly and slowly turn around “annyeonghaseyo”, grabbing your arm with the other reaching across the front of your body, looking at the ground. You wish you could curl up in a ball and die.

“Oh Y/N” he sounds breathless

“Hey Binnie..” you slowly look up to meet his eyes, lifting the hand from your held arm to wave, awkwardly smiling.

“You… you-” he clears his throat “you look-”

“Ridiculous I know..” you cut him off, hanging your head in your hands, slightly pushing your breasts together “Please don’t tell the guys. I can’t live with Gyu torturing me for eternity”

“No, no. NO!” panic fills his voice “I was gonna say you look incredible” he says and immediately turns bright red

“Really?” You ask shocked he would say that

“Yes! You really do. Wait, so this is why you weren’t in hair and makeup today? I was worried! I thought you were-” he walks over to you and grabs your arms, rubbing up and down them when he cuts himself off, looking down into your eyes as you look up into his shining brown ones. "I thought you were sick or something. You wouldn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry this morning has been kinda crazy” unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. This whole situation was just too ridiculous..

Soobin however, was fighting every instinct in his body to not kiss you. Walking into the room and seeing your plump ass with the bunny tail was enough to make him hard. He knew it was you as soon as he saw it. Afterall, he does ogle your body everyday. Wishing he would get the chance to see you in all your glorious perfection one day. If only he could break out of his annoyingly nervous self when he’s around you and tell you how perfect you are.

Seeing you turn around with the complete outfit fulfills all of his fantasies. Fuck you looked so hot standing before him. How the fuck is he gonna get through this shoot?

There’s a knock on the door, signaling them that the crew was there to film his reaction to seeing you.

“Are you both ready?” The director asks, internally applauding himself for this moment. He’s not stupid he sees the way you both look at each other.

“Yeah I guess.. you good Soob?” You ask him, he hasn’t broken eye contact with you

“Yeah sure” he finally looks at the director.

“Alright let’s do this thing! We’ll be right back Y/N” he winks at you. Soobin looks at you over his shoulder the whole time he walks out of the room. All you can do is supportively smile at him, tilting your bunny ear clad head to the side. His heart is pounding so hard right now he’s pretty sure everyone can hear it. And he’d be right. The crew all chuckled under their breath at how flustered he was.

“Hey Soobin” the director nudged his arm drawing his attention to him. “Don’t let this opportunity slip away” leaning in to whisper his last words of advice “make your move”

Soobin’s eyes widen unsure if he heard him right, “what?”

“You heard me, don’t waste it Soobin” he winks at him before clapping his hands together to get everyone ready to proceed filming.

Soobin’s “intro” goes as well as it can with how awkward he is in this situation. They wrap up the quick take, letting you know they will be back in an hour, and you are both left alone once again. Tension lays thick in the air. Who would talk first? Better yet how you were both going to make it through this. Unable to take the silence anymore, you ask “how do you want to do this?”

“Hmm?” he asks, lost in his own mind about what the director meant.

“What do you want me to do Soobin? How do you want me to pose for you?”

“OH right.. Umm just do what feels comfortable to you i guess?” rubbing the back of his neck as he walks over to grab the polaroid camera left on the table.

“Soobin… absolutely none of this is comfortable! I look like I just walked out of a teenage boys wet dream”

‘It’s gonna be my wet dream tonight’ Soobin can’t help but think to himself.

“Yeah, right… Ummm.. how about, I mean since you’re already dressed like that, you pose like a bunny girl…?” deciding to shoot his shot because this opportunity will not present itself again.

“What, Like this?” channeling your inner Bunny Girl popping your hip out hard to the side. Your head tilted the same way while pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with big doe eyes.

“Yeah, just like that! Don’t move” Soobin picks up the camera to capture you in that pose.

“Kay” you shyly say, not budging from your position as Soobin takes the picture.

You continue posing for him in whatever way you can imagine. And when you run out of ideas, Soobin’s thorough knowledge of anime and manga comes into full use, directing you in poses you would have never thought of.

However, as time passed, Soobin’s pervy side was getting the best of him, taking the photos he would never ever use, and just keep for later. Like as soon as filming was over and he was alone, left to think of you all night.

Soobin maneuvers himself in all different positions. Eventually making his way between your legs, wanting to get a photo of you looking down at him.

While sliding through your legs, his eyes land at the apex of your thighs, staring at your barely covered pussy. The white satin laying tightly over your core. So tight, he could see the shape of you through it. ‘Fuck fuck fuck this is insane. I shouldn’t be looking but FUCK WHY DOES IT LOOK SO GOOD. fuck I want her on my tongue. Just a taste…” Soobin internally fantasizes about you moving the fabric to the side, exposing your soaking wet folds, glistening in your slick and begging to be cleaned by his mouth. His jeans start to feel tighter- “FUCK NO! STOP BEING A PERV YOU LOSER!’

You seem to be off in another world though and completely unaware of his position. ‘Maybe I could… No no I can't, that's so wrong. She’d hate me if she ever found out. But… that’s IF she finds out. If.. if is good.’

Soobin picks up the camera, focusing on the white piece of shiny fabric barely covering your pussy, making sure it’s perfect before he clicks the shutter button to capture you on film. Only for him to see. He shoves the picture into his shirt pocket and pushes his way through to finally see your face.

You look down over your breasts, bending slightly at your hips, to look down at Soobin. “ kay so what now?” batting your eyelashes.

“UHH-” trembling over his words ‘FUCK WHY IS SHE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! I swear ro god she's doing this on purpose’ he swallowed thickly “umm that looks good! Yes, just lean over a bit more and that perfect” horny Soobin is fully taking over. He wants YOU so badly.

For some reason you kept feeling more and more confident around him too. The way he would praise you throughout this whole ordeal was making you feel a type of way. You could feel the tingling in your stomach migrate its way throughout your whole body. Leading you to be more forward than you usually would. His eyes on you make you more confident by the second. ‘Fuck why is he looking at me like that? He looks so good’ thinking to yourself as you admire the way Soobin’s hair falls back off of his forehead. Watching the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips while he focuses the camera on you.

What catches Soobin's attention though, is the way your thighs start to rub together. Grinding together and making your hips sway slightly. ‘Fuck this is impossible’ he thinks while trying to maneuver to make his jeans not feel so tight.

“This okay Binnie?” you softly ask, squeezing your breasts together with your arms

“YeP!” He squeaks, taking the picture quickly, and moving to get out from underneath you.

You notice something fall to the ground from his pocket as he shifts. Noticing it’s a polaroid you move forward and bend down to pick it up. Curious, you turn it around to look at it while you speak up.

“Hey Bin you dropped th-” the word dies in your throat as you see the picture. The photo is solely of the apex between your thighs. Front and center is your pussy, barely covered, by the tiny amount of white satin fabric, you can even see through it a little bit (all thanks to how wet you currently were).

When Soobin sees you holding the photo, and the red flush covering your face, he knows immediately what photo it is, tapping his chest pocket to confirm his nightmare is coming true.

“Y/N I-... Le-Let me explain! It’s not what you think! It’s uhhh… i uhh- “ Seeing him panic with wide eyes and a crimson face that rivals your own, fills you with the sudden urge to toy with him. Falling to your knees, you crawl over to him, showing off the assets you know he loves most. You’ve always known Soobin was a boob man. He rarely passed the chance to size up your chest when he was presented with it. Straddling his hips, you put on your best innocent face. Big doe eyes and pouty pink lips, glossy after just licking them. “Binnie baby..” you lean forward, pushing your tits to his face as your breathily whisper into his ear “if you wanted your own pictures, all you had to do was ask” punctuating your statement by pressing a kiss to his pulse point. He stops breathing, his cock instantly hardening underneath you, while his hands shoot to your hips to hold you there. Thumbs digging in roughly.

“Y/N wait… fuck- ” he curses as your lower yourself on him “for real?”

“Mmmmhmmm” you seductively agree, biting your lower lip while you look him in the eyes.

“Anything I want? The question barely audible while his eyes lower to your lips.

You bring your face into his, feathering his lips with your own as your whisper to him “anything you want Soobin”

Soobin instantly reaches for the camera but you stop him. You push yourself into him as you reach down his thigh and into his pocket as you reach for his phone in his pocket. “Use yours instead” holding it out to him.

Soobin snatches the phone from your hand at light speed and instantly takes photos of you, just as you are right now. Photos of your chest, your face, as many as he can grab. He quickly switches to video, not wanting to miss a second of this as he simultaneously snaps pictures of you in motion.

You give into his every want and need. Moving as you think he would like, letting him guide you into the positions he wants. Even allowing him to take down your ponytail, releasing your curls along your shoulders.

Unable to take this position any longer, Soobin wraps his arm around your waist as he flips you onto the floor making you softly gasp. Your hair spreads out across the cold tile beneath you, bunny ears still standing straight up on top of your head. Soobin is about to combust looking at you spread out below him on the floor, while his legs straddle either side of you. ‘She’s so fucking cute right now. Her pink nose is adorable, especially when she's shy like this. She’s even blushing all down her neck and -” Soobin’s eyes widen as he is stopped in his thoughts. As his eyes are trailing down your body, he notices one of your breasts has vacated your corset and is perked up, looking back at him. Your pretty pink, hard nipple making him salivate, begging to be taken into his mouth. Fantasizing about getting you completely out of that bunny suit, you interrupt his thoughts.

“Soobin?” your voice is meek and quiet “Is something wrong?” you ask, starting to curl into yourself, feeling self conscious for the first time under his gaze.

“What..” he asks confused until he realizes he was eye fucking you as you watched him “NO! Nothing is wrong! It’s just your.. Your umm..” Soobin clears his throat, “your boob is out”

“OH!” you look down to see you were in fact exposed. “Oh god, sorry I didn’t even notice” being too caught up in the moment you didn’t even realize your tit was out. You reach to fix yourself when Soobin’s large hand grabs yours to stop you. He brings your hand above your head, looking into your eyes trying to gauge how you feel right now. “Soobin..” you breathe, shock and nerves creeping in. Feeling the mutual tension, Soobin makes his decision.

Soobin breaks eye contact to look at your exposed chest again. Bringing his free hand up, pulling down the top of your suit completely revealing your chest to him as you gasp in shock.

“So pretty…” looking at you in the most adoring way “prettiest tits I’ve ever seen” whispering his compliments through shallow breathing. He releases your hand, kneading a breast in each of his huge palms. “So pretty Y/N, so perfect” Pulling hushed moans from you as he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your peaked bud. Pulling away as he grazes his teeth across it, causing you to hiss a quiet ‘fuck’ as the sensation does too much to you. Your melodic sounds go straight to his dick.

Soobin continues sucking on your chest, leaving purple marks in his wake. His hands roaming your exposed skin, traveling lower towards your hips. You need more. You need him to give you more. Your desire takes over, pushing your hips up to meet his, whining as you move against him.

“More” you whisper

“Hmm?” he barely heard you too caught up in his actions

“More Soobin, please” you whine

Unable to stop the smirk on his lips, he has to tease you a little bit. He wasn’t going to give up this chance to fluster you “what was that? I can’t hear you Y/N did you say something?”

You grab his face, pulling him in closer to you and whine between bated breath “BiiNn- More, touch mee- Uhh more PLEassee” Your eyes glossed over with need.

“Fuck Y/N what are you doing to me?” Finally meeting your lips, Soobin pulls you up to sit in his lap, moving the fabric to the side so he can finally touch your soaked cunt. Soobin groans into your mouth, mixing with your moans. Having his long fingers rub along your sensitive folds, circling your clit, making your brain short circuit, losing all sense of control and reason previously holding you back.

You grip his shirt by the neck, pulling him closer to you deepening your kiss. “Take it off.” punctuating your demand by biting his lower lip.

Soobin moves at light speed, pulling his shirt over his head, to reconnect your lips. Not wanting to waste any moments he can be connected to you. Migrating to your neck where he makes quick work to leave his mark. Purple splotches popping up along your collarbone and chest. Relishing in the pretty moans leaving your mouth. Kissing down your chest he reaches your suit again.

Trying to pull down your suit, he’s met with resistance. The zipper gets stuck as he fumbles with irritation.

“Fuck” he grumbles before he turns you around “as hot as you are in this suit, I really fucking hate it right now.” fingers struggling to unzip you.

You get impatient too, “here!” wrapping your arm around to pull the zipper down

“Stand up baby, take it off please” he motions for you to stand up, holding your hips as you do.

On your feet, you look down at Soobin, his eyes sparkling with desire as you shimmy out of the satin suit you were so self conscious in moments ago. While the lust is fogging over your thoughts, you freeze realizing he can see everything. Anxiety begins to crawl back into your stomach. Butterflies swarming in the pit as you see him size you up from top to bottom.

Lost in the sight of you fully on display for him, Soobin can’t help but stare and take in every inch of your body. It was everything he ever dreamed and more. Practically salivating at the thought of having you all to himself. Eyes between your thighs to your breasts, landing on your stomach. You’re holding your breath when he gently says ”so pretty. You’re beautiful y/n. So so beautiful.” you can hear the love and sincerity in his words, making the butterflies and unease fly away. Still praising your body with his gaze, Soobin moves forward, bringing himself closer to your dripping sex, trailing kisses along your thighs. “Need to taste” he says, more so to himself as he lifts his head, running his smooth tongue from your opening to your clit in one deliciously slow stroke. His tongue feels unreal, soothing the tension building inside you. Moaning as he continues to lap up your arousal. Soobin lifts your leg over his shoulder to get more access to you, his plush lips kissing your clit.

Soobin leaves no part of your core untouched. His tongue travels the length of your slit, swirling your clit and sucking it between his lips, holding you steady with a tight grip on your ass. Groping your cheek as he guides you along his tongue.

“eugh” You run your finger through his hair, gripping tightly so he can’t escape from the pleasure he’s giving you. Flattening his tongue along your folds slick with his saliva. Sucking on them until they slip out with a loud ‘POP’ as he groans from your intoxicating taste. You push your hips forward and Soobin takes the hint, swirling his tongue around your dripping entrance before he thrusts it in.

“Fuck Bin!” you gasp as pleasure buzzes throughout your body. “Ughhh- Yes keep.. Keep going” your breathing ragged and interrupted by the moans you can’t hold back.

Soobin moans against you, “yes baby- fuckkk…- come for me” he pleads between breaths. His large hands pull you in closer to him, allowing him to dive deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with every movement.

Pulling back for a second, you groan in disappointment, dropping your head back on your shoulders until you hear and feel the wetness of Soobin spitting on your clit. The surprise and vulgarity of the sounds echoing around the room tighten then knot in your stomach more and more while Soobin immediately returns to burying himself in your cunt. Your hips move on their own. Bouncing and grinding on Soobin’s tongue. You can feel him smile against you, as he begins to help you. Lifting you by your ass and dropping you down on his tongue so he can get even deeper. Vibrations flutter along your folds from his groans, drinking the sweet nectar flowing from you, thighs trembling signaling how close you were.

“So good… fuck princess -so hot” Soobin mewls against your clit. Distracting you while he adds two fingers along with his tongue. Reaching your spongy spot while his tongue licks your gummy walls alongside his digits. Your body is on fire, nerves overfiring with every tiny movement Soobin makes along you. The way his nose brushes your clit every time he moves his tongue or wraps his fingers to reach your g spot. The way his Grip is tightening on your ass in the most deliciously painful way, sure to leave bruises of his fingertips for tomorrow, all while pulling you closer into him.

“Fuck- UGH- I’m gonna- SooB-” your words stumble out as you try to warn him. But Soobin just nods eagerly, not stopping for even a second to breathe. With one last thrust of his fingers inside and his nose gently brushing against your clit, the tension in your body finally snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you. You shake and tremble as your arousal coats Soobin's hand and face, but he stays right there. Continuing to hold and support you while you ride out every wave of pleasure until your climax subsides.

You collapse to your knees, breathless and trembling in front of Soobin. He wipes the remnants of release from his face, unable to reach it all with just his tongue. Watching him lick your cum off of his plump bunny lips that you’ve fantasized of so often almost has cumming again.

“Soobin I-” you start before he pulls you close by the back of your neck, kissing you with a passion and intensity unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. The taste of yourself on his lips only reignites your desire for him. You wanted to taste him, feel his heavy length on your tongue and make him cum deep in your throat.

Moaning into his kiss, you waste no time in undoing his belt. Ripping it off and throwing it across the room before moving onto his pants. He can barely comprehend what's happening as you pull them down his thighs in one fluid motion.

“Woah- Woah Y/N slow dowNNnN-” he moans against your lips, while trying to push you back slightly. “Fuuuck” It not that he didn’t want this - because he does, He REALLY FUCKING wants it. BAD. But he didn’t want you to overwhelm yourself after how hard you just came.

“Baby-Fuck bun- stop for a- ahhh- a sec” he tries to convince you

“UGGHHH why?!” you say irritably, wanting nothing more and to suck his cock right then and there. Palming him through his briefs, you run your fingers over the wet spot on his briefs, feeling the precum soaking through the fabric. Knowing he wants it just as badly as you do. Rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip through the fabric makes Soobin’s resolve start to crumble.

“Fuck bunny”- i- i just don’t wan- faaawwk-’ cutting himself off with a loud moan.

“Up” you simply state

“Hmm?” he asks, confused but unable to resist your commanding tone, his pupils dilate from pleasure.

“Stand. Up.” you command simply. Taking his arms and forcing him to stand up.

You look up at him moving in closer to his still covered bulge

“I wanna taste you” not breaking eye contact as you lick the wet spot sitting atop his aching tip. His salty essence makes you moan loudly and your eyes roll to the back of your head from the delectable taste. Lost in your desire for him, you migrate lower, kissing his length.

Eliciting heavy breathing and groans from Soobin.

“fuck Y/N” he pants before being taken over by his deep, raspy moans, tangling his fingers through your hair to ground himself. Fighting hard to not instantly cum down your throat as you tease him through the soaking wet fabric.

Desperate for more of him, you remove Soobin's briefs and reveal his mouth-watering cock. A silent gasp escapes your lips as it slaps against his abs. You already knew he was big, but fuck.. seeing him fully exposed was mind-blowing. His member was thick with plump veins that would glide deliciously against your walls. And the length...it could easily hit every one of the pleasure points deep inside you. The sight of it made your mouth water with anticipation. Not to mention, his dick was actually pretty. The tip was a deep shade of pink, glistening in the wetness from your previous teasing, practically begging to be taken into your mouth.

Craving more, your tongue reaches out, gliding along the underside of his cock slowly, swirling your slippery tongue around the tip. Savoring the taste of him, you moan as you envelope him with your lips. Your moans radiate throughout his body, causing him to tighten his grip on your hair.

“Gahh-y/n fuck your mouth feels so good” Soobin moans, unable to stop his hips from moving deeper into your throat. Drool drips down your chin, gagging on him as he pushes against the back of your throat. Hollowing your cheeks you allow more of his length in, using your tongue to stimulate his tip when Soobin’s hips pull back. Gripping his thigh with one hand for balance, your free hand moves to grope his balls. Massaging and lightly squeezing them while Soobin whimpers words of praise to you. “Feels so good”, “fuck yes bunny”, “such a good girl for me”

Every word shoots to your core, making you drip with need. Pulling off his cock, still attached by a string of spit from your lips to his tip, creating a sinfully pornographic scene between the both of you. Panting and flushed, you watch Soobin’s dick twitch, as if begging for more attention. Humming in approval, your hand encloses around his length, pumping up and down while you look up at him. When Soobin’s brown irises lock on your playful ones, you kitten lick his tip teasingly while you watch him squirm to control himself.

“You’re too fucking cute Binnie” feigning innocence while biting your bottom lip, drifting closer and closer to the base of him. Smiling as you run the flat of your tongue along his taint, running all the way to his head.

Soobin’s groan was possibly the best sound you have ever heard. Greedy, you wanted to hear more. Wanted to hear how good you were making him feel. You spit on his shaft, jerking him off while returning to his balls. Licking and kissing all over before popping one into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue.

Soobin’s knees start to shake, becoming too stimulated while trying to hold himself back. He falls back and leans against the table behind him, unknowingly giving you even more access to him. Humming in satisfaction against him, you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” he’s a moaning mess.

“Cum for me Soob! Want your cum” you beg, pumping your fist along his shaft faster, and twisting. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his tip. “Cum binnie”

“GahHhH-” cumming on your tongue, Soobin’s grip on your hair tightens, pulling you further down his length so he can pump his cum down your throat.

You can’t help but moan around his length, swallowing every last drop while you continue to milk his cock.

Both of you are panting and out of breath. Licking your lips, you stare up at the man you’ve been in love with for months, head thrown back and adam's apple bobbing as he tries to collect himself. Effortlessly beautiful as he always is, but this time it’s different. He looks like sex. Literal sex. His hair is damp and slightly messy from running your fingers through it. His skin softly glistens with the light sheen of sweat covering his body. His muscles are taught as he leans against that table, tensed from the orgasm you gave him moments ago. Soobin turns his head to look at you, his eyes lazy but full of desire.

“Come ‘ere” he softly demands, holding out a hand to you.

Raising to your feet you walk to him taking his outreached hand. With a light tug he pulls you into his chest, enveloping you in a tight hug. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he asks into the top of your head.

Pulling back you look up at him “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself” pulling him down by his chin, catching his lips with yours. The intensity increases quickly, both of you still craving more of one another.

Softly groaning into your lips, Soobin’s hands travel down to grab your ass, kneading your round cheeks with his large hands, pulling you closer and closer. But it’s not close enough. With your arms wrapped around his neck and hands tangled in his hair, Soobin lifts you up finally getting the closeness he craved. You let out a startled yelp from his sudden action, causing you both to laugh into the kiss. “You good?” still laughing at how cute he found you.

“Never better” you retort before capturing his lips again, resuming your heated kissing. Pulling yourself up his body and rubbing your slick folds along Soobin’s hardened length. Whining with need and want, pushing yourself a little farther everytime. His sensitive tip hooking and sliding just past your dripping opening. Both of your moans are sinfully pornographic and echo off the walls surrounding you.

“Fuck Y/N-”

“BiNNiE” you whine against his lips, moving your hips to slip him inside you again, but he holds your hips tight, not letting you move like you wish.

“What? Are you that needy bunny?” he smirks, a confidence washing over him from your efforts

“Mmhmmm” you quickly nod “please Bin”

“You really are a filthy bunny aren’t you? Just dying for me to fuck you right?” You’ve never seen or heard Soobin act like this, but fucking hell… this new side of him is so incredibly hot you can feel your essence stream out of you and along his cock. His chocolate brown eyes are almost black now and his gaze makes you want to submit to his every word.

“Just a bunny, your filthy bunny, Binnie I need you PLEASE”

“Fuck” he exhales, collecting the little restraint he has to complete this fantasy he’s always had. Letting you down he flips you over, pressing your ass against him, lightly pulling you back by the bunny ears still attached to your head to say his next words into your ear. His hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “Gonna let me fuck you stupid like the bunny you are? Gonna let me breed you? Fuck you full of my cum? Hmm Y/N? Is that what you want?”

He’s turned you into a complete mess underneath him. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. You're a moaning whiny mess, pressing yourself harder and harder against him, craving the fullness you want so bad.

“Yes, fuck yes Binnie! Want it, want it so bad. Give me your cum Soobin pleaseE!”

“Yeah bunny? You wanna be full of my babies?” Pushing your chest into the table, teasing you as he rubs his tip along your folds, teasingly pushing against your hole waiting for your answer.

“FUCK SOOBIN yes! Wanna be so full, wanna have your babies” It’s like he had you hypnotized. The thought of him pumping every last drop of his cum in you to have his babies had you clenching around nothing, desperate for him. “Please Binnie” you beg looking over your shoulder at him, “ Fuck your bunny, please”

With a soft moan, he confesses, “God damnit Y/N you’re gonna be the death of me” as he slowly sinks into you. Both of your Moans harmonize as he thrusts deeper, finally fulfilling both of your wants and desires. Savoring every moment of his perfectly sculpted length moving within you, stretching you in the most illustrious way.

“Pussy feels so good” he pants into your ear, fully sheathing his length inside you. Kissing along your shoulder he continues to praise you “so wet for me to baby, feels so good”, “you’re perfect, so fucking perfect”, “more than I ever dreamed” punctuating every statement with a kiss down your spine.

“Fuck Soobin please move” you plead, meeting his eyes over your shoulder again, watering with need. Soobin wraps an arm around your torso to palm one of your breasts, bringing you to his chest so he can kiss you. His other hand guides your leg up to rest on the table, opening you up more for him as he begins to drag himself along your walls before he begins to thrust back into you.

“Oh my fuck-KiNG GawwDd” you gasp into his mouth, his thick cock hitting the sweet spot inside you with knee buckling percision as you wrap your arm up around his neck to keep your balance. “So good- mm- fuck Soob so good!” Sloppily kissing him as he literally fucks you stupid. Your brain has completely stopped working, too stimulated to focus on anything but how perfect Soobin is fucking your right now. They way he moves in and out of you so smoothly, as every vein and ridge fits along you so well. Tears fall from your lashes as he brings you closer to climax.

“So good for me baby” pulling back from your lips, Soobin flips you around to face him, leaning you back against the table. Positioning himself between your legs, pulling you in by the back of your neck to meet your forehead to his, bangs pushed back slick with sweat. Locking onto your tear glistening eyes, while his free hand travels to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, smiling as he tells you exactly what you’ve been feeling “you're made for me Y/N. We’re made for each other.” as he locks onto your lips while simultaneously sliding back into your fluttering entrance without needing to use his hands to guide him. Fully inside, your walls clench around his length, moans ripping through your throat as you come undone, his skilled fingers moving to circle your clit. Voice soft with affection, Soobin confesses his intentions, declaring “You’re mine, my bunny y/n. No one else gets to have you like this. Please?” Soobin hips don’t stop, fucking you through your climax, nodding to what he says while you moan and whine. His sentiment pushing you over the edge, snapping the tightly wound knot inside you. “Just want you. Fuck want you so bad. Please be mine” begging between thrusts. “Be all mine”

“Yours-mmm- ‘m all yours Binnie! Your bunny- jus’ yours” choking on your words as you mewl from the intense orgasm wrecking your body. Soobin’s movements become erratic, ready to cum.

“Gonna cum- fuck baby- ”

“Cum Soobin- cum for me- want it” excitement rings through your voice

“Want my cum? Please baby let me cum” he pleads in a deeper, raspy voice, trying to hold back

“Cum bin, cum in me- claim me- wanna be yours” wrapping your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull Soobin in to Kiss him, capturing his moan as he paints your insides white with his semen. Soobin pulls you in as close as he can, pushing deeper into you, pressing against your spongy core.

As he releases the last drops of his seed, releasing your lips but keeping you close, his gentle voice quietly declares “you’re mine. All mine y/n”

“Mmmm” you hum in agreement and he pulls out of you, covered in both of your fluids, small moans released from how overstimulated you both are.

Feeling empty now, anxiety creeps back in, making you ask “Are you mine too?” You ask with a slight waver in your voice, uncertain of his answer.

Soobin can’t help the stupid grin plastered on his face, thinking how could he not be? “Always have been Y/N” speaking against your lips before kissing softly.

“Huh?“ eyes wide as if he had just told you the craziest thing, and didn’t just fuck your brains out.

“I’m yours Y/N” he chuckles, holding your face in his hands, nose to nose “I want to be with you”

“Soobin- I-“ you start to stutter, your brain rapid firing ‘wait he likes me?’ ‘For real for real?’ ‘Holy fuck I love him’ ‘wait is he just saying that cause he thinks he needs to?’ ‘Whatever I can take friends with benefits’ ‘his dick🥵’ ’but I actually like him’ ‘no he said it he likes you back’… all at once overwhelming you, and unable to finish your sentence.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to be with me I get it. We can just ignore this but-“

“WHAT NO!? NO nonononono no Soobin I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you that.. thats not what is happening here. I just don’t want you to say that because you think you have to cause all of this happened and I’m really in my head right now because why in the fuck would you ever pick me over literally anyone else in the world? But I Donno if I can-“

“Wooahh woah Y/N slow down. Backtrack for a second, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

“Hmmm? Did I what now?” You panic freaking out in your head again ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU JUST SAID YOURE IN LOVE WITH HIM! FUCK ME!’

“Do you love me?”

‘I do. I mean yes of course I do but should I tell him that right now? Like what if I ruin all of this? Oh no… nooo don’t look at me like that with your stupid cute face and puppy dog eyes. I do really love him’ your heart is beating out of your chest at your decision.

“Yes I do.” You look up into his chocolate eyes and everything calms down. The warmth he radiates through them at this moment pushes you forward. “I’m in love with you, Choi Soobin” His plush bunny shaped lips part in subtle shock that you actually just told him you love him. “But you don’t have to say anything, it’s totally fine I get it if you don’t feel the same way. We can just pretend I didn’t say anything-“

Soobin cuts you off slamming his lips back to yours, not wanting you to finish that statement because it couldn’t be farther from the way he truly feels for you. He doesn’t like the flash of doubt that washes over your face while you diverted your eyes from his. When he feels you melt into him and reach for him he gently breaks from your lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N”

“Wait-“

BANG BANG BANG

“THIS YOUR 5 MINUTE WARNING” The director shouts through the door

Panic takes over the both of you as you rush around trying to find your clothes and put yourselves back together… well somewhat anyways. Praying to god everyone would be oblivious to what happened between you two or at least act like they were. Your lipstick was smeared all over Soobin’s face and neck, purple splotches decorating the both of you. At least his could be hidden, you were struggling to get the stupid bunny suit back on.

“Here let me help” Soobin ironically does up the zipper he struggled with earlier. Running his fingers along your spine as you put your hair back up in the ponytail. Leaning in to whisper, knowing the staff could barge in any second, he tells you “I meant it. All of it.”

“Me to”

“Tonight, your place”

“Okay”

“I wanna-“

“We’re here” the door flies open as the whole filming crew comes in. Soobin steps in front of you, somewhat keeping you out of sight. You stay back on hoping they just leave you be, reaching for the robe you entered with. While tip toeing to the robe, something catches your eye on the floor. Picking it up you see it’s the Polaroid Soobin took between your legs. Laughing to yourself you pull on the robe and see a pen. You write a quick note on the back before you return to hide behind Soobin’s tall frame and slip the photo in his back pocket, leaving a little treat for later.

You pull the bunny ears off and pull up the hood on the robe in a last attempt to hide yourself. Reliving everything that happened just moments ago as you twirl the ears in your fingers.

“Y/N! Hey? You good?” The director snaps you out of your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh yea I’m good. I’m great” red flushing your cheeks, unable to hold it back

“Alright well you’re free to go. Again thank you so much for doing this!” He bows to you

“Yeah okay. I’ll ummm.. I’ll go”

The look on everyone's faces was pure confusion. Considering how you were earlier they thought you would rip into the director. But you’re oddly calm…

Before leaving you turn to Soobin and tell him to duck down, placing your bunny ears on top of his damp and messy hair. “There, right where they belong”

He whispers “tonight?” And you nod back repeating him “tonight” smiling before you turn to leave. Passing the still bowing director as you walk through the door.

Smiling to yourself the whole way back to your dressing room. Finally arriving you walk inside and close the door leaning on it before your release every giddy squeal you’ve been holding back.

“Tell me everything NOW!” You’re bestie all but screams after seeing you, scaring you half to death

“HOLY FUCK WARN A WOMAN WOULD YOU!? Fucking gave me a heart attack”

“Yea sorry whatever TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

“Where do I begin?”

“At the beginning obviously no detail to be spared! Now spill!!”

“Okay okay!” You laugh before you start reliving the past hour of your dreams.

Somewhere in another room …

“SooooOoOooOooo How was everyone’s shoot?” Beomgyu asks raising his eyebrows in the most immature childish way

“It was fine, awkward but fine” Kai says first

“Yea I mean this whole idea was ridiculous, I just hope - is okay. I hope she wasn’t too uncomfortable.” Taehyun adds in, scratching his temple in thought

“Yea I know right? They must have felt so vulnerable. They are hella courageous though, props to them.” Yeonjun proudly says.

“It would have been hilarious if it was male models though” Kai says laughing maniacally “can you imagine dudes in those tiny tiny costumes?”

They all laugh together except Soobin, who hasn’t heard a word of the conversation. Thinking about you and how you felt on his -

“Soobin you’re awfully quiet… what’s up man?” Yeonjun notices, breaking Soobin out of his thoughts.

“Hmmm? Nothing- no I’m- I’m good sorry”

“Who was your model by the way?” Beomgyu slides over to him, trying to get the information from him

“I’m not saying”

“Come ON! Let’s all just share who it was! Mine was -“ Beomgyu starts

“I already said who mine was” Taehyun reminds everyone

“I had -“ They all looked at Yeonjun confused, no idea who he was talking about “the new junior..”

“Ohhhh” realizing who she is

“- was really nice. Honestly I was probably more nervous than her” Kai fondly says

“Come on Soobin! Tell us who was in that bunny suit for you?”

Shaking his head he refuses to say your name

“Tell us” Beomgyu continues his taunt

“Tell us tell us tell us” the other 3 eventually join in as well

“OKAY FINE just shut up”

“Who was it?”

“Yeah I’m genuinely curious now” Yeonjun adds

“It was y/n” whispering your name so quietly it would barley be audible to a fly on the wall

“What? Who was it?”

“Y/N” saying your name only slightly louder, still inaudible to anyone

“Hmmm?”

“Y/N”

“OH FOR FUCK SAKES SOOBIN WHO WAS IT!?” Beomgyu yells at him frustrated.

“IT WAS Y/N! Y/N! THERE ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?”

He yells back unable to control his temper with his junior

All eyes were the size of balloons, mouths hanging open, as if hearing the most shocking news of the century. Which, fair enough, when it came to Soobin’s gigantic crush on you, it was to them.

“What? So now you’re not gonna say anything?” Soobin snaps in irritation at them

“So how was it?” Taehyun breaks the silence first

“How do you think it was?” Soobin’s eyes squinting as he gets more irritated the more they ask about you. This needs to stop now because he can’t tell them what happened until you both talk. Tonight. At your place. Alone.

“Ouuu so it was bad?”

“No it was great, she’s a fucking goddess dressed in a bunny suit fulfilling my biggest fucking fantasy.” Sarcasm lacing his sharp words until he thinks about how perfect you looked and his voice softens “She looked.. fuck you know what I can’t talk about this.”

“It’s alright buddy we get it. Must of been brutal seeing her like that but not for the reason your really wanted” yeonjun comforts him

Little did they know he made that very fantasy real and it was more than he ever dreamed it could be

Turning to walk back to the set, Beomgyu sees something sticking out of Soobin’s back pocket. “Hey Soobin there’s something hanging-“ grabbing the photo from his back pocket, Beomgyu’s words die in his throat. The photo you so kindly left Soobin as a present.

Turning around in annoyance, Soobin sees Beomgyu holding a photo that has black writing on the back. Barely making out a ‘tonight’ and a little heart with an S next to it.

“What are you…” panic runs through Soobin’s body as he realizes that’s a photo and it’s probably the exact one he hopes it’s not, but judging by Beomgyu’s face, it’s exactly what he thinks it is “GIVE THAT TO ME NOW!” Just missing the photo as Beomgyu pulls its away from him

“You dirty perv, taking photos of your best friend like this without her knowing” Kai and Taehyun look over Beomgyu’s shoulder to look at it and Soobin dies a little more inside

“What is it? Let me see” Yeonjun walks over to see taking the photo from Beomgyu. “O-ohhh- oh um this is yours… there’s a note on the back btw” Yeonjun hands it to Soobin

“NOTE! What does it say!?”

“None of your fucking business that’s what!” Soobin snaps

“I literally just saw your picture of her pussy, tell us what it says or I tell her I saw it NOW!” Beomgyu wastes no time with his ultimatum

Soobin lets out the deepest breath and rubs his palms into his eyes in frustration. Pulling on his bangs and scrunching his face “FINE FUCK! Don’t tell her you seen this it’s literally they only thing she asked of me and I can’t belive I fucked up so quick! If she finds out I will kill you”

“Lips are sealed. Now what does it say?” Beomgyu puts on his happiest smile in Soobin’s mortification

Turning over the photo in his hand Soobin turns bright red as he reads what you’ve written

“Now you owe me one! ����

See you tonight

❤️ -S

xo”

After wrapping for the day Soobin goes to immediately text you, wanting to see how you were and talk about tonight. “Where the fuck is my phone?” He looks around desperately, patting his pockets but coming up empty handed. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He asks the group

“No man sorry! Maybe it’s in the room?” Yeonjun suggests

‘Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk’ it hits Soobin that’s exactly where it is. Totally forgetting how all of this started. “Hmm maybe I’ll go check! Thanks Jun”

He calmly walks out the door and when he thinks it’s safe he sprints as fast as his long unathletic legs will carry him. Bursting through the door, he looks all over for the phone. Finding it face down on the floor next to the table. Flipping it over he sees ‘storage full’ indicating that it had indeed been filming everything.

Smiling like an idiot, he can’t help but think about what might have actually been captured between the both of you.

Opening his messages he finds your contact, sending your a quick message

“Can’t wait to see you later 🫶”

Three dots appear almost immediately and are then replace by your message

“I can’t wait to see you Binnie 🫶”

[sceletaflores]

any nasty down bad breeding kink art musings love of my life?

viciously yanked me out of my mini challengers rut with this one because yes. yes i do have some thoughts on that.

for some reason the first thing that came to mind was virgin!art....in a universe where he somehow didn't get laid before stanford lol

like auurgggghhh virgin!art and his deep seated breeding kink. it's literally ingrained in him even before he has sex for the first time.

you're his first real girlfriend, met when you needed a tutor in accounting and art's professor suggested him.

the two of you have been dating for two months and he already knows that he loves you despite what patrick says about "playing the field a little man, you're not married to the chick."

but the thing is that art would marry you. he'd up and marry you tomorrow if that's what you wanted. he doesn’t care how crazy it sounds.

he loves you and he wants you to be his first.

maybe he wasn't entirely expecting it when you laid on your back on the mattress of his dorm, peering up at him through your lashes as you announced that you were "ready to take our relationship to the next level..."

he was hard before you finished talking.

art could barely think straight, his body reacting faster than his mind. he swallowed hard, trying to steady his hands, which had started trembling the moment you laid back on the navy blue comforter of his bed.

“are you...are you sure?" his voice came out more breathless than he intended, his brain scrambling to keep up despite all the blood rushing to his dick.

your gentle nod, paired with a soft smile that made his heart stutter in his chest was all it took for him to lose any lingering doubts.

he crawled up the mattress, leaning down to kiss you with more tenderness than urgency, his heart thudding against his ribcage like it was trying to escape his chest.

he fumbled his way through fingering you, his hands shaking with nerves even though you've done this part countless times.

it wasn't until the two of you shed all clothes, art settling himself between your legs before you were speaking, thighs twitching to close around his hips.

"you'll have to pull out, i'm off the pill."

fuck.

art's heard of that before, pulling out. usually the punchline of some jokes the guys like to tell in the locker room, or from patrick recapping his own hook-up stories.

the dirtiness of it makes his cheeks burn, and he hopes to god you can't see the embarrassing red blush he knows is there.

he takes a deep breath, steeling his resolve as he presses the leaking head of his dick to your slick hole.

"okay." his voice sounded pained, his hold on your hip probably a little too tight as he held his throbbing dick steady and nudged his hips forward until just the tip slipped inside your fluttering hole.

"oh fuck."

art’s brain short-circuits for a moment, his entire body freezing as the tight heat of you grips the head of his dick. he sucks in a shaky breath, trying to keep his cool, but every nerve in his body is screaming at him to move, to take more. to bury himself so deep he wouldn’t know where he ends and you begin.

he lets out a low groan, fingers digging into your skin, knuckles turning white with it. he wasn’t prepared for how overwhelming it would feel, like his entire life had been leading up to this exact moment.

"jesus...you're so—" he can’t even finish the sentence, his voice breaking.

"art," your hips shift beneath him, making him jolt forward, sinking just a little deeper inside you. his mind goes blank, a vast space of nothingness but the tight heat wrapped around his dick.

there's only you, your soft skin, your quiet gasps, the feeling of being wrapped in the most sinful warmth.

for a while art gets lost in the feeling. in the way you pant into his open mouth, to overwhelmed to kiss him properly. in the way your hands grip his shoulders harder with every inch he gives you. in the way you pussy shakes around him like it can hardly wait any longer.

but soon enough, art knows he's getting close, that he probably needs to pull out soon. but you're just so soft and you smell so good and your pussy is sucking his dick in so wet and warm like it never wants him to leave again.

"i can't," he grits out against your collarbone, shaking his head frantically. "i can't do it."

"don't stop," you whine, manicured nails digging into the toned muscle of his shoulders, "don't stop, baby. fuck, give it to me harder, harder please-ah!"

art screws his eyes shut as tightly as he can, brows pinched together as he presses his forehead against the sweaty skin of your shoulder. to ground himself. his hips speed up to punch out more high whines of his name from your slick lips.

there's an odd feeling working it's way through his body as he ponders his options, a wrongness flashing in the back of his mind each time he reminds himself of pulling out to spill over your stomach.

despite the fact that he's never done this before, his gut tells him no.

you deserve his come inside you, painted along your insides as he claims you for the first time.

"i can't pull out," he whines through clenched teeth, big hands tightening their hold on your waist. his voice is pinched and high in a way it's never been before, desperation leaking through his tone.

your lips fall open on a gasp, your head shaking back and forth dazedly, but he feels the way you clench around him. the way your pussy tightens up like it's trying to milk the load directly out of his aching balls.

"fuck! please don't make me baby," he begs, self restraint snapping in two as he buries his face in your neck. "lemme come in you, it'll be okay. we'll be fine, nothing gonna happen if it's only this once."

"no..." you moan, "art don't, gotta pull out..." but your hips start rising of the bed to meet his thrusts, the dirty smack of skin on skin filling his tiny single. you're dripping around him, coating his dick with a slick layer of shiny wetness.

"i can't," art repeats breathlessly, dick twitching inside you warningly.

"i need it…need you, need to come in you so fucking bad," his voice is strained and cracking, hips trembling with the effort, but you’re so tight around him, every squeeze pulling him deeper.

it's too much and not enough all at once—the heat, the wetness, the overwhelming need. it has pure kerosene burning in his veins.

"art," your legs stay wrapped snug around his hips, ankles locked over his lower back. "m'close, gonna come, fuck! i'm coming—!"

so is art. the added squeeze of you're pussy coming around shattering the last of his resolve and sending him careening him over the edge.

"fuck," your name falls from his lips in a tight groan as he unloads inside of you. flooding your pussy with warm come as his hips keep up the punishing pace he set.

art doesn't stop thrusting even as he comes so hard his vision whites out. he can't stop, like you've got some sort of magnetic field that keeps pulling him in over and over and over.

your too-loud moans and cries dissolving into sharp keens and gasps as he fucks you into over-stimulation, his hips pumping in in in as the image of his come getting fucked deeper and deeper inside of you plays on a loop in his mind.

when his arms finally give out and he collapses on top of you in a sweaty heap of limbs, your arms immediately come up to wrap around his shoulders. a pleased hum rumbling through your chest as you scratch your nails along his scalp soothingly, smug smile hidden in the sweaty halo of his hair.

art's out like a light in five minutes, falls asleep right there with his head resting on your bare-chest and his dick kept safe inside you.

patrick buys a plan-b for art the next morning when he's too nervous to face the cashier at walgreens.

[musings-ofthe-unamused]

CoD Headcanons: Back From a Mission Gone Wrong

A/N: Hello friends! So sorry for not posting in a while. Will try to post some hcs and fics more often!

Please check out my 200 follower giveaway if you want a chance to win a customized fic!!

Ghost:

He's so pissed

At first, he doesn't say a thing 

But finally he explodes

Yelling, getting up close

He won't back down until he's got it all out

And once he does, he just walks away to cool down

"You're fucking insane! You're a trained soldier, not some war hero in a movie!" 

"LT, it was just-"

His voice raised even higher until he was shouting. "No excuses! It was fucking reckless and you know it!"

"What, and you don't get to-"

"Shut the fuck up! This isn't a fucking game! I'm so sick of you trying to pull these stunts. You wanna be punished for insubordination? This is the third fucking time you haven't listened to me! And I'm so fucking sick of it!"

You felt your face growing hot. Everyone stared at the two of you as Ghost continued to yell at you. It felt so unfair. You were just doing what you thought was right. But now he was acting like you have never done a single thing right. With a thick swallow, you lowered your head. You couldn't say a thing. He eventually stopped. And once he did, he walked away, leaving you to face the stares of everyone else.

Soap:

Absolutely in shambles

He was so scared that you were gonna die 

He's dealt with this before, but not in a way like this

Soap has never been so terrified

So as soon as he sees you, he clings onto you

Soap's arms were wrapped securely around you. Normally, you wouldn't mind the affection. But now that your arm was in a sling and you were trying to eat lunch, this was more of a nuisance. You groaned, trying to shake off your clingy boyfriend. He didn't budge. It's been only one day since you came back, but he's acting like you'd disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Soap, I need to eat."

He shook his head. "Five more minutes."

"Are you not embarrassed? We're literally in the cafeteria and everyone is staring." You tried pushing him off once again. No luck. 

"I don't care. I almost lost you, so I'm never letting you go again."

Gaz:

He tries to make it seem like he was calm

He knows your strengths and how you manage to pull through

But Gaz can't help but let out a sigh of relief when he sees you in the infirmary

Gaz would sit down next to you and flash you a smile

Crack a joke about how you're immortal

"Well, well, well. You made it back. How unlucky." Gaz sat next to you on the cot. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Wow. I love your concern for me."

"I can't be concerned." He reached out, grabbing your hand. "I know you'll always come back to me."

"Of course I will."

Price:

A mix of anger and concern

The type to be super silent 

That's when you know you've fucked up

Lecture in his office

Will hug you after

The office was silent except for the ticking of his clock. You watched as Price sat back in his seat, smoking a cigar. Your uninjured hand tapped nervously against your thigh. He had just spent the past twenty minutes lecturing you on being more careful and vigilant on missions. But now was the scary part. The silence.

"Captain, I'm really sorry." You finally managed to speak. "I thought I was in the clear. They just came out of nowhere, and I-"

Your words were interrupted as he suddenly got up from his desk. He stalked over to you and leaned down. He hugged you tightly. Cigar smoke curled around the both of you like a second embrace. Your body relaxed.

"Captain…"

"Don't ever do that again."

"Yes, sir."

Alejandro:

He's there when you arrive on base

Immediately looks you over to make sure you're okay

Will mutter under his breath at how reckless you are

But praises you for getting out of there alive

Alejandro was staring at you with his arms crossed as you limped off the aircraft. You could already see the gears turning in his mind, deciding if he should scold you or immediately send you to the infirmary. When you finally stood in front of him, he lifted your chin with his fingers.

"Look at you. How reckless." He mumbled under his breath. His eyes traveled over your face.

"Sorry."

"I know. But you did good, getting out of there alive. I'm proud of you."

König:

The type of anxious guy that has to be doing something

He knows your hurt when you come back, but he isn't there to see you

Instead, he's in the gym, working out

You actually have to find him 

When he sees you, he just kinda breaks down a bit

König wasn't waiting for you when you got back from the mission. You wanted nothing more than to collapse in his arms and complain about how everything went wrong. And yet, he was nowhere to be found. You searched practically the whole base before finding him in the gym, lifting weights.

"I'm back." You said, walking closer to him.

His back was facing you. "I know."

"Can you look at me?"

He turned around. You could just see his shoulders deflate as he looked at your injured body. You sighed and walked up to him. He buried you in a tight hug, his cheek resting on your head. He squeezed you as tightly as possibly. You felt almost bad for messing up on the mission and worrying him.

Keegan:

Calls you idiotic, but brave

Has a bright smile on his face

Can't believe you got out of there alive

Tells you to not do that shit again

Keegan's hands slowly ran down your arms as he looked over you. His eyes were shining with pride. You had just come stumbling out of the Humvee, dizzy and disoriented. After throwing off your helmet, you stare up at Keegan.

"I didn't die!"

"No, you didn't. You're so stupid."

"But brave, right?"

"Right."

Graves:

Will make fun of you

Never thought you would fuck up a mission that badly

Will be incredibly annoying about it

Doesn't even offer to help you?!

Bitch

Graves couldn't stop laughing. He was doubled over, his hand clutching his stomach. You stood in front of him, battered and bruised. A glare was on your face as you waited for him to finish. Of course he wasn't concerned. He was an asshole, why would he be?

"I can't believe you fucked up so badly!"

"Graves…"

"You crashed into a ditch!"

"Graves, I am bleeding profusely! Shut up and help me!"

[tpwk-formula1]

haii could i please order a pizza with sicillian crust with red sauce, and jalapenos, chicken, and tomatoes and my drinks are mtn dew(dom), beer and diet coke. Served by Max Verstappen please!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicillian crust dating red sauce rough sex jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" mt dew dom (reader) beer edging diet cock recording kink served by Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Dom reader

AN: I am so pleased with how busy the Pizzeria has been! I work at night today so I'm gonna get a couple fics more pizzas done before I have to go in.

TW - edging, sub max, dom reader, begging, unprotected sex, filming, taunting

WC 2100+

Y/N POV

I've been watching Max from the other side of the bar for the past 15 minutes while he talks to Checo about something having forgotten about the drink he was supposed to be getting me.

Another 5 minutes pass before Max is finally waving the bartender down to orders drinks and another 3 minutes before I watch Max approaching with his puppy smile trying to sweeten me up once he saw the cold stare I was giving him.

"Max it's been almost half an hour since you told me 'I'll be right back just gonna get your drink' right back my ass" I saw while rolling my eyes and talking the drink he was offering me.

"M'sorry, Checo was talking about the car," Max tells me sheepishly. I could tell he was sorry so I decided to brush it off and pull him to my side before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"It's fine, just stay on task next time," I tell him softly whispering into his ear.

I don't know how or when it happened but there had been a shift in max and I's relationship. At one point in time, Max was a young curious boy doing any and everything he could to dominate me and 'keep me in check' but as the years progressed there was a switch and he was no longer the one wearing the pants in the relationship. Most people just assumed Max was whipped but the very few who actually knew about the dynamic just understood it. To them it all made sense, on track, Max was a dominant force that instilled fear in his fellow drivers but off the track, he just needed an outlet to be taken care of.

"I promise," Max whispers before placing a kiss on my lips.

"Love you," he says when he pulls back. "Love you too"

As the night progressed Max had done really well about doing what he's asked but then Lando showed up and I knew instantly I was gonna lose him in the crowd.

I trust Max and I have no issues with him going off but being left at a table by myself surrounded by people I had never met was making me grow more anxious than I would like to admit.

It was about an hour later when I finally saw Max approaching the table with a dopey smile across his face letting me know he had definitely had another drink or two.

"Hi baby," Max says while plopping down right next to me not picking up on the annoyance radiating off of me.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I ask back watching as the smile on Max's face instantly falls.

"Wha- huh? Wait, what did I do?" Max stutters, struggling to try and figure out what to say.

"You just disappeared for over an hour. You left me alone at this dan table and you didn't even tell me where the fuck you went or ask if I wanted to join," I tell him back piching his thigh slightly under the table.

"M'sorry. I promise I've been trying to be good. Don't wanna make you mad, schat" Max mumbles clearly feeling the shame of the verbal lashing he was gonna get later when we got back to the apartment.

"You're gonna be in tears tonight," I reply back straight faced not cracking a normal smile.

"Please just one more chance," Max begs knowing I meant every word.

"I gave you a chance with Checo. I don't understand how you hanging out with Lando somehow always results in you getting punished. Maybe we should send him a video of you tonight to let me know he's a terrible influence," I tell him while looking into his eyes before placing a soft kiss on his cheek to throw him off.

"You wouldn't" Max says with wide eyes of the threat of sending a sex tape. I just shrug my shoulders playing along with the bit.

"I don't know, I think he would love to know that the man he's fighting to get the World Driver Championship is just a needy whiney little bitch," I reply back making Max whine.

"You're a meanie," Max mumbles.

"And you're a brat. Don't we make a perfect pair," I saw with a smile on my face.

When we finally get back to the apartment for the night Max was pretty much sober knowing I would wait until morning if he wasn't sober. He chose take his punishment now versus the morning when he would be nursing a hangover.

"Go into our room, make sure the cats are out of the room, then strip down and be laying on you back in the bed. I'll be there in 5 minutes," I say the second the door is closed.

Max makes quick work of disappearing into our room where I assume he listened to every word I said.

In the 5 minutes, I stripped down into the lingerie set I had chosen to wear under my outfit before making my way down the hallway where I find Sassy sitting by the door staring up at me curiously. I give her a quick pet before slipping into the room to find Max exactly how I told him to be. I look around the room and found a neatly stack of clothes letting me know that Max had folded them up instead of throwing them arounf our room.

"I see you remember some of our rules," I saw while staring at the clothes so Max understood what I was referencing.

When I start climbing into the bed with Max I can see him tensing slightly in anticipation.

"You know how embarrassing it was tonight?" I said before spitting onto Max's cock and starting to jerk him off making him instantly grow hard under my hand.

"I was sat there all alone for over an hour. I looked dumb as fuck. I'm sure the Monaco gossip is gonna eat that up "Max Verstappen disappears leaving his long-time girlfriend alone at the table' You know how media is, they're gonna make it seem like there's trouble in paradise. When in reality it's just little Maxie being a brat. Oh! I almost forgot," I stop my teasing to grab my phone which I brought with me into the room.

"Say hi to Lando," I say while pointing the camera at Max's face. He's giving the camera such a pained yet slutty look it makes me laugh at his desperation. I wait a couple seconds before my voice booms through the room, "I said, Say hi to Lando." While verbally reprimanding Max I send a quick slap to his inner thigh close to his dick before pinching the same spot making Max squirm a bit.

"Hi, Lando," Max mumbles barely audible.

"Try that again. I hear the way you yell at your engineer. Such a disrespectful boy," I tell him with a raised brow.

"Hi, Lando" Max finally says in a loud enough voice to be heard.

"Good boy," I tell him while moving my unoccupied hand back to his dick making sure I have the perfect angle to get Max and his already wet with precum ccok.

"So needy. You're already dripping for me," I say with a smirk on my face.

"So good, schat" Max whines making me speed up slightly just to watch Max's breath hitch.

"I love it when you get like that," I mumble while squeezing Max's cock a bit harder.

"M'close," Max mumbled making me speed up just slightly before pulling my hand away and watching Max's eyes roll into the back of his head and tremble slightly from his pleasure being ripped away in a matter of seconds.

"No," Max whines dragging out the O sounding so desperate.

"Awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" I tease while starting to jerk Max off again while zooming the camera in on Max's cock dripping with precum.

"Schat, please," Max says already starting to beg.

"Oh come on, you can handle more than one," I tell him while leaning down and kicking softly at his tip collecting a bit of his precum.

I shuffle down the bed slightly to start pulling Max into my mouth and down my throat taking all of Max's length into my mouth making sure to bob my head slightly before bringing Max to the edge all over again.

I could tell when he was getting close again because his thighs started tensing under my hands making me rip away from Max's cock to watch him thrash around while bucking his hips to try and gain some kind of friction.

"Fuck no," Max whines staring straight at that the camera that I angled perfectly on his face.

"I love watching you get progressively more needy," I say with a smirk while gripping onto his cock and giving it a rough couple jerks before pulling Max into my mouth again.

I didn't give Max much time to calm down so he was on the edge rather quickly.

"Please, I'm gonna cum," Max says making me bod my head a bit faster before pulling away and watching Max try and chase his orgasm on his own by moving his hand to go and finish himself off but I quickly get a grip on his wrist and giving Max a look that says knock it off.

"No more," Max whines making me smirk slightly.

"Can you give me one more?" I question with a raised brow making Max whine but slowly start to nod his head.

"Yes, I can give one more," Max mumbles softly making me smile softly.

I started jerking off his cock softly making sure I'm filming everything again. I loved it when Max got like. The noises, his hips bucking, and the pure desperation in his eyes always seemed to turn me on.

I could tell Max was getting close but I wanted to push him farther than previous so I continue my movements till the second I know Max will cum I rip my hand away and watch as Max lets out a roar of desperation while jerking his body around not being able to gain any friction as I moved away slightly.

"Please, I need it. I can't do it anymore. I need to cum baby, please," Max begs making me smile softly.

"I'm gonna let you cum in a minute," I tell Max softly while rubbing his thigh in a soothing manner making Max whimper at the touch.

I turned the video off and tossed my phone away from us. I was still sitting in my lingerie set which is completely soaked through both from just witnessing Max get to the point of begging and also because I had snuck a couple fingers into my folds and teased my clit while giving Max head.

I stand from the bed softly and strip down completely before climbing back into the bed and climbing on top of Max before instantly sinking all the way down on Max.

"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel Max stretch my tight walls. I knew neither of us would last very long but looking at Max's face he was completely blissed out.

"So good," Max mumbled making his accent come out a bit thicker.

"So big baby," I moan while softly grinding my hips to gain some friction but not enough stimulation to bring Max or I to an orgasm.

"More, please" Max begs and I give him exactly what he wants because I start bouncing my hips slightly making both Max and I moan at the pleasure coursing through our bodies.

It doesn't take me long for the knot in my stomach to grow alerting me of the incoming orgasm. I look at Max's face and can tell he's trying to hold his orgasm off until I was cumming.

"Cum for me baby," I whisper out bouncing harder on Max's cock throwing me off the edge and into a violent orgasm.

The way Max's hips were erratically thrusting and the feeling of him filling me up sent me over the edge into a shaking orgasm. I'm shaking on Max's cock trying to ride both of our orgasms out.

"So good baby," I whine softly still feeling the aftershocks of the intense orgasm I just had.

"Thank you," Max says softly through staggered breath still trying to catch his breath again.

"You did good for me," I tell Max softly while pulling off his cock and laying down on his chest.

"You're not gonna send that to Lando right," Max mumbles softly making me chuckle a little and shake my head no.

"You know I would never, but I did love watching you get desperate on camera. Might start having to do that more often," I tell him softly looking up to watch his face. I could see the conflict in his eyes but he still nodded his head letting me know it was something he would be willing to do again.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

Gojo and Geto with bad bitch Chubby Reader

Guys, I tried to avoid being a Gojo stan...I tried so hard to hate him...but the pull was too strong. He got my ass. He's too silly. He's too cute the little shit. He's too perfect. Geto's great too before he lost his shit and went psycho the two are just too great to pass up.

2024 WILL BE THE YEAR THAT I GET YOU BITCHES TO PREACH STRONG, CONFIDENT, INDEPENDENT but not too independent bc these men are still yummy af CHUBBY READER! No longer will I be insecure about my weight because these men LOVE to see me coming AND going, I can tell you that.

WARNING: Fatphobia (happens when first meeting Gojo & Geto—they’re teens trying to bully Reader, but she handles herself because they’re idiots), A little angst with the small amount of bullying but I hope I made up for it, Cursing

✧༺♥༻✧

Imagine you, Gojo, Geto, and Shoko being classmates and friends during their schooling at Jujutsu High. All of you are powerful threats not to be taken lightly. The boys were undoubtedly freaks of nature with how strong they were—though, you had doubled over laughing alongside Shoko a couple of times when you heard them deem themselves "the strongest duo", as if they were some cool loner wolf types. Shoko was a master in the medicinal field; she made any injury look like a breeze to clean. She'd stitch them up no problem with her cursed energy and send them merrily on their way with a swift kick to their backside.

You definitely have more proficiency with cursed energy usage for combat more so than healing, but you could manage healing yourself just fine. You’d been born into a clan, not as highly revered as the Zenin or Gojo clans but still notable, so you’ve been taught from an early age how to wield cursed energy. Sacrificing yourself for the greater good of the world has been drilled into your head since birth, and you agreed with it. The world’s innocence needs to be protected from the cursed dangers life creates. Sure, there are bad people in the world, but the good people make life worth living. At least, that’s what you choose to believe.

While you’re just a normal—aside from the slight infinite power and jaw-dropping strength—girl, you are different in one more physical way. You’re chubbier than most, and not by a small bit.

Are you insecure about it?

Hell fucking no!

You’re a bad bitch. Fantastic face, banging body, stunning smile, bright eyes, a kind but strong heart, and even a cute butt to top it off. You knew this world inside out with how cruel it could be to plus sized folk, and while you took the beating for far too long without fighting back, you took a couple of steps back a few years ago to look at the situation. Why let people push you around like you didn’t matter? Why let them speak to you like you’re lesser than them simply because you weigh more? You were done being talked to like you were filth underneath their boots.

Since that new perspective, you’ve chosen the road of self love and hands rated E for everyone. You’re kind and sweet to those who reciprocate the respect. To those who try you, you beat their asses with a smile. “Education on Human Decency” is what you’ve begun to call the smackdowns since many want to try casting judgment in snide remarks or sneering looks. They can try these hands instead :)

That’s where Jujutsu High and the headaches you know as Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru fit into this philosophy of yours.

You were homeschooled by your clan in the first year of your sorcery high school. Though, after much begging for a change of scenery and yearning for social interactions other than your family and neighbors, they allowed you to go to a high school centered on jujutsu sorcery the next school year.

When you started Jujutsu High in your second year, that is where you met Shoko, Gojo, and Geto, your classmates. The first thought to cross your mind was how small this crowd was. Sure, it wasn’t like the classes you’ve had before had many students in them either; the world of curses and cursed energy wasn’t exactly a booming population to start with, especially when every year is the same class roster composed of the few brothers and sisters you had. Considering that, three new faces was much better than before! You introduced yourself with a joyful tone and an eager handshake.

You started with Shoko since she was the only other girl. You’re glad you did. Shoko, who you originally thought would be tricky to get along with since she gave off “rebel” vibes with that unlit cigarette dangling from her lips and you were nothing of the sort, held a grin and took your handshake with grace. She told you she liked your spunk, that it was nice to be around another girl rather than more stinking boys. You agreed with her with a relieved sigh. You two shared a laugh and chatted some more, each of you discussing your thoughts of the school and figuring out your mutual interests.

Soon enough, you were interrupted by someone giving a very noticeable and forced cough behind you. You turned and were met with two boys, one with jet black hair and a sly grin and the other one with silvery moonlight colored strands sharing the same expression hidden behind circular sunglasses. The white haired boy was leaning heavily on the black haired boy with one arm propped on his shoulder as the black-haired boy crossed his arms in front of himself. Seems like the two are close. No matter.

You stuck your hand out, another smile—admittedly, this one was a little more forced than the one you shared with Shoko—and gave your name. Suguru was the first to bite. He grabbed your hand with a smooth, warm grip, and exchanged his name. His shake felt sincere, though the cunning smirk still laid on his lips.

You tried to shake the other boy’s hand after letting Suguru go, but he decided otherwise. He swiftly with no mercy said he wasn’t going to shake hands with the likes of “you”. You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the insult he would try to hurl at you. One thing bullies are is predictable. None of them have any creative bone in their body, they’re like leeches, in a way. Mooching off other clever remarks they’ve heard used before through the Internet or their idiot friends. Though, they alway reproduce it much shitter than the first time they heard it.

He leaned in with a smile and yapped about how if he touches you, some of your fat might rub off on him. Gojo tries to drag Geto into bullying you too by shamelessly asking if Geto is worried that will happen to him now that he’s so brazenly touched you. As much as you wanted Suguru to be his own person, to be better than the loser clinging to him like a koala, he chimed in that while Gojo’s afraid of that, that that could never happen to him. He sneered while looking down at you that he actually has the discipline to keep the weight off. The two of them share an evil snicker together.

Oh, so that’s how they wanna play it.

Okay. You don’t mind showing a bitch their place.

As Shoko pipes up and tells them to shut the hell up, you stop her. You give her a kind smile that says “I love you, but please back the fuck up as I rock these bitches world”. Her eyebrows jump up in surprise, but she gives you a nod. She quiets down.

You choose to laugh with them. They slowly shut their mouths, finding laughing at you not that funny when you don’t crumple under their taunts like they’d expected. You then explain to them that what you find so funny is that punks like them are so easy to read and, subsequently, ruin. You told them they need to find better insults to steal if they wanna cackle like they’re some kind of drunk hyenas and, unless they get more creative, they’re not worth the air they take from others. You turned to walk away, but since you just couldn’t help yourself, you gave the both of them a swift kick to the chest. Unprepared for the action, they both were sent careening back, but remained standing. You also snarkily nagged that being “undisciplined in weight loss” gave you the extra weight to knock their scrawny asses back that far.

Shoko gave you a hearty high five while laughing at them getting what they deserve. Gojo, though baffled at your defiance, is ready to start throwing punches, as he spews half-assed insults left and right. Geto manages to keep his thoughts to himself, but you do note his expression has definitely become sour. This little scrap is swiftly interrupted by your new teacher, Masamichi Yaga, when he enters and orders the class to settle down. He also snuffs Gojo’s babbling tantrum with a merciless smack to his forehead.

You give a small grin stuck your tongue out at the two when Mr. Masamichi turned his back. From then on, it was war.

You, Geto, and Gojo fought constantly in the beginning

When they (mostly Gojo now) tried to stir shit with you, you’d fling their rudeness right back at them

Whether they tried to pick on your weight, or cheery personality, or strength (which they couldn’t make too much fun off since you were only a little less strong than they were, but so was everyone else compared to their insane powers), you were always ready to kick their asses

You didn’t resent them for their teasing, mostly since you had a good head on your shoulders and you know that Gojo’s only deflecting all the shit he hates about himself onto other people, but they sure got on your nerves sometimes

So, you decided soon into your acquaintance with these dopes that instead of simply beating their asses every time they said some wack shit and never correcting the behavior, you’re going put an end to their bullying of based on others appearances

Because, who knows. You have enough self love and confidence to defend yourself against their rude remarks, but not everyone does. What happens if they target other plus sized people who maybe can’t or won’t defend themselves?

So, when they’d try to make fun of you, you’d correct them with sincerity and help them understand why that would hurt to someone

Geto pretty much never made a passing comment like that again towards you. You’re happy to see that change in him

Gojo huffed and puffed after what he called “your lecture”, but you also saw change in him

After that, it was slow progress to all be friends

Shoko and you were doing great! Hanging out outside of school, dragging her along with you to do some window shopping, eating a sit down lunch together, going to the nearest bookstore, grabbing a yummy sweet treat, stargazing—you did it all together!

She always made a fuss that she had “no interest” in what you would force her to do, but you could secretly tell she liked doing girly stuff together. As long as she could have a smoke break in between these hang outs, she was all good

The first time you, Geto, and Gojo made a recovery in your rocky relationship was when they asked if they could come along with the two of you to get a treat together

You were a bit hesitant to share the thing that brings you joy with the two people who tried to make you the butt of the joke, but you threw them bone and agreed

You four walked down the sidewalk, mostly you chit chatting with Shoko, when Gojo butted his way into the conversation at your mention of Kikufuku.

You and him bonded over your mutual love of the delicate, bouncy sweet treat and you watched as his eyes sparkled like a little kid when you said the place you were going to had an excellent Kikufuku

You know, when Gojo isn’t being a menace, he’s actually nice to share a conversation with

Geto teased Gojo for his astounding sweet tooth, and explained to you an embarrassing story of Gojo losing his mind one time when a dog stole one of his dorayaki treats and ran off

You laughed as Gojo tried to hit Geto as payback for sharing the “secret” but Geto fended off his flailing

Maybe I'll come back to this idea one day when I'm not hung up on the bullying. If you guys like this idea, I might continue it with less bullying. I am a baby when it comes to angst lol. I really do love these boys, I just don't think my heart is ready for the subject matter I wrote.

✧༺♥༻✧

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 4

Summary: Wanda and R have their first date ;)

Wanda: Sorry I missed you before you left for work. Wanna come over for dinner with us?

Y/N: Would love to :)

“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who just got dumped” Darcy says as you smile at your phone.

“Who got what?”

“Carol and Maria…”

“No one dump me, there was no relationship to end” you say, locking your phone. You have noticed that Carol has been avoiding you, which is pretty idiotic, considering a lot of the trauma cases that come your way are ortho related.

That would also explain why Kamala rambled so much every time you requested a consult, so you made a note to speak to Carol about it.

“So…” Darcy ponders, and you wish she’d just drop it. She snaps her fingers. “The hot mom!”

“Her name is Wanda, and we are just talking” you refuse to look at her, knowing she can smell the bullshit from miles away.

“Something tells me talking wasn’t the only thing you did with your mouths” she insists, pulling on your sleeve.

“Fine! We kissed and it was awesome! Happy, you little pestering gnome?”

“Yes, lesbian whore. Congrats on securing a ticket to MILF paradise”

“Fuck you”

“Doctor Y/L/N” Kamala enters the room as you give Darcy the middle finger. “I can come back! Sorry!”

“Look what you’ve done” you mumble as Darcy cackles. The joy doesn’t last long, as you steal her chips. She’s too distracted making fun of you to notice.

“Hey, not fair”

You close the door and go after the resident.

“Hey, Kamala”

“Oh, hi. Doctor Danvers asked me to show you some X-Rays”

“Tell Doctor Danvers to show me herself. Or better yet, I will go directly to her. Where can I find her, Doctor Kahn?”

“Uh… I…”

“Never mind, I’ll ask Maria” you turn to leave  and Kamala screeches in horror.

“OR 2. She’s in OR 2. Please don’t do it, my Baba will never forgive me if I get kicked out of the program” the young doctor clings to your arm.

“Kamala. Get it together. It’s gonna be fine. If Carol gets mad, you can be in my service for a week” you promise and she barely stops hyperventilating.

By the time you reach the OR, Carol is done with her surgery. She stops in her tracks when your eyes meet.

“Doctor Danvers, a word?” you ask, trying to sound professional.

“Of course” she nods. Leading you to an empty scrub room, Carol opens the door for you, fidgeting. “What’s up?”

“Stop making everything so awkward. I’m not mad at you. Kamala is about to have a stress induced stroke from all the consults you send her to avoid me”

“You’re really not mad?” Carol says.

“No! I never expected anything else from you. We didn’t talk about it but I always knew what your true feelings were”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, honestly. Just, stop acting like you left me at the altar or some weird shit. We’re colleagues and friends”

“That makes me happy. I didn’t want to stop talking to you” she relaxes. “Though I have to be honest, I told Maria what happened between us”

“Is she mad?”

“Only a bit and just to me. I’ll manage to turn it around” the blonde smiles, a dreamy look on her eyes.

“If it helps, tell her I have a date on Thursday” you say, leaving the room, Carol right behind you.

“Oh, let me guess. The hot mom?” she jokes.

“Her name is Wanda!” you repeat.

“Well, let me know how the date goes?” Carol pats your shoulder, and you nod.

“Will do. Now page your resident and tell her we’re all set before she gets admitted to the Psych ward”

—

The footsteps approaching on the other side make your heart jump. You wonder if the flowers are too much, but when Wanda sees them, her face lights up and you know it was the right thing to do.

“Come on in” Wanda says, taking the flowers and then standing on her toes to kiss your cheek. “The boys are in the living room”

“Want some help with the food?”

“No, I’m almost done. It will be more helpful if you entertain the twins for a little” she says, pulling the flowers close to her chest.

“Alright, then” you’re about to kiss her when the boys walk in. They’re so excited to see you that they don’t notice how close you are to their mother.

“Y/N” Billy says, running towards you.

“Hey, kiddos” you pick them up, carrying them over your shoulder and they giggle. “Come on, there’s a new game I wanna show you”

You take your time to set everything up, explaining a bit about the game. They giggle as Crash jumps and turns in the sand of the first level, and you finish it all, including the tricky jump at the end.

“Who wants to go next?”

“Me” Tommy says, sitting next to you. They are both focused on the game, so you take advantage of the distraction to go see Wanda.

Sliding into the kitchen, you grab her by the waist.

“You scared me” she laughs, allowing you to press against her back, kissing her temple. “What’s going on?”

“I have approximately fifty seconds before they ask for my help so I’m making sure they count” you turn her around and lean forward, capturing her lips and sighing against her mouth. “You look very pretty”

“Thank you”

“You smell really nice” you add, kissing her again, making Wanda laugh. “And I really, really, like kissing you”

Wanda smiles at that, her hand caressing your cheek.

“Y/N!” the boys chant in unison.

“Like clockwork” you mutter, kissing Wanda’s forehead as you go back to the living room.

You spend a few more minutes playing with the kids, until Wanda calls everyone for dinner.

“How’s the arm, kiddo?” you say, sitting next to Billy with Tommy and Wanda in front of you. As you take a bite of the chicken, you notice a funny flavor. “Is this brocc…”

Wanda widens her eyes and kicks you under the table.

“Ouch”

“You ok?” Tommy asks, none the wiser.

“Yeah, I just bit my tongue” you lie, Wanda taking a sip of her water to hide her laugh.

“Kids, eat” she encourages them, and you get the hint. The flavor of the broccoli is hidden with the cheese, so you smile and continue to eat, enjoying every single bite.

“I’m on cleaning duty” you say as soon as everyone finishes, taking the dishes and cleaning the table.

Billy and Tommy run to the living room to continue playing, and as you get ready to wash the dishes, Wanda leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“It’s nice to have you here”

“You have an odd way of showing it, Miss Maximoff” you joke, leaning against her touch.

“In my defense, it’s the only way to get them to eat their greens” she jokes and you lean forward, your lips inches away from hers. In that precise moment, the boys call for her.

“Behave” she warns the children, pulling away to see what the fuss is about.

“Have you thought about boarding schools?” you joke and she pinches your side. “Ah, kidding! I would miss them too much”

You load the dishwasher, clean the pots and put the rest of the food on some containers. By the time you’re done, the kids are getting ready to go to bed.

“Can you come over again tomorrow?”

“If your mom wants me to, sure. I can bring the food this time so she takes a break from cooking” you offer, smiling at Wanda.

“We’ll see about that, Y/N works hard enough as it is. Say goodbye to her, boys”

Tommy and Billy wave at you, already dragging their feet. You stay on the living room, and a few minutes later Wanda comes down.

“Hi” she plops down next to you and you smile.

“All good?”

“A bit tired, that’s all. Just ignore me, you’re the one that works all those crazy hours”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m used to it by now” you shrug your shoulders.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow”

“How come?” Wanda asks when she returns, handing you a glass of red wine and sitting closer to you on the couch.

“Well, I have a really hot date coming up and I need to plan every detail”

“She sounds like a lucky girl” Wanda blushes, biting her lip.

“Oh, I’m the lucky one” you say, placing both of your glasses on the coffee table. “She’s smart, funny, has legs for days, cooks amazing food…”

“Stop” she laughs, and you shake your head no. Wanda is still laughing when you connect your lips with hers, a sigh leaving her mouth when you lift her and place her on your lap, her legs straddling you.

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah” she nods, leaning her forehead against yours. “More than ok. As a matter of fact, I remember reading that kissing is good for your health”

“It’s so good” you say, your lips traveling to her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck. “I’d say do it as often as possible”

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda jokes, her voice faltering as you come back to her mouth, your tongue swiping across her bottom lip.

“Doctor’s orders”

—

The plan is coming along. You have the tickets for the exhibit and the next thing on the list should be the dinner reservation. Your pager beeps the minute you call the restaurant. 

911.

“Shit” 

You sprint to the car, knowing no one would call you outside of work if it wasn’t serious. 

“What’s wrong?” you walk to the ER, looking around.

“What on Earth is this?” Tony Stark, neurosurgeon and professional asshole gets in your face the minute you get there.

“I don’t know, I’ve been off work since yesterday, Stark” you take the chart, reading all the information until you get to the signature. The writing got progressively worse, until it was just senseless lines.

“This person was clearly having a stroke, and the staff didn’t notice. I have to scrub in and see if I can save his life”

“And you’re wasting time arguing with me” you roll your eyes, pushing the chart to his chest and walking to the OR.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To scrub in. If you want to blame me, that’s fine. I’m staying by this patient’s side until he pulls through”

“If he pulls through” Stark says angrily and you ignore him. 

Before scrubbing in, you check your phone.

Wanda: Is everything ok? I saw you leaving in a hurry. 

“By all means, take your time” Stark says, glaring as he walks by you.

You spend the entire surgery in his OR, standing still and doing everything he asks. He’s a rude, pretentious cunt, but if anyone can work a miracle, it’s him, so you suck it up and take every snide comment with a blank stare.

After hours working, Tony sighs, nodding at his work. 

“Close him, Parker,” he asks his resident. You stand watching the young man’s work, until the surgeon asks you to come with him.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out the minute you step out. “This wasn’t your patient, nor your responsibility. And I made it seem like it was”

“It’s still not right. If I had been here, I would have noticed”

“I know. Your work is impeccable” he acknowledges and you nod. Even if he’s an ass, this is the hospital his father built, and he’s a genius with years ahead of you in experience.

“Will he be alright?”

“There’s a good chance he’ll pull through. Let’s be cautiously optimistic. I’ll let Parker explain everything to the family. Sorry for interrupting your days off”

“Not a problem” 

“It’s the first time you’ve taken PTO in 3 years. Fury’s gonna have my head for making you come” Tony says, laughing.

The patient is moved to the ICU, but you’re still not comfortable leaving, so you go back to the on-call room, sitting in a bed to gather your thoughts. Yelling in the hallway makes you stand up, watching as Parker tries to speak to a man and his wife. 

“You discharged him, said he was fine” the man yells, pointing at Peter’s face. 

“Sir, I can assure you, we’re doing our best to make sure your son…”

“We wanna see him now” the man takes Peter by his coat, almost lifting him off the ground. The young man stutters, not knowing how to deescalate the situation.

“Hey, that’s enough” you step in, not realizing the man is about to throw a punch until you make him drop Peter, his elbow connecting with your cheek.

“Crap, Doctor Y/L/N, are you ok?” Peter says, rushing to your side.

“Yeah, fine”

Fucking fantastic. 

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to wait in the foyer, or I’ll call security” Carol steps in, glaring at the man. She waits until he’s gone, muttering an apology your way. “You ok?”

“Mhm, great”

“I thought you had a few days off”

“Yeah, me too”

“Come on, let’s have a look at that punch” Carol says, dragging you to one of the exam rooms. You sigh, trying to keep your eye closed. “No stitches needed”

“Great” you mumble, pulling out your phone. There’s like five messages from Wanda but before you can answer, she calls you.

“Hey”

“Hey, are you ok? You had me worried”

“Yeah, there was a thing at the hospital and I… ouch! Carol, a little warning?” you hiss as the blonde pours some disinfectant on the bruised skin.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy” Wanda says, her demeanor changing. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait, Wanda!” you say but it’s too late, the call cut off. “God, could this day get any worse? I have to go”

“Want me to drive you there?” Carol says with a smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah. That will make Wanda so happy”

“Whipped” Carol jokes and you try to glare, but it hurts your eye.

Wanda barely put the kids to bed, when she hears a knock on the door. She’s prepared to give you an attitude but then sees your swollen cheek.

“Oh, my God, what happened to you, are you ok?” the brunette says, immediately forgetting she’s mad at you.

“It’s a long story. But that doesn’t matter. Listen, I know how it seems, I tell you I’m busy and when you call me I’m with Carol”

“I know you work together. It’s fine” Wanda lies.

“No, it’s not, come on”

“Ok, just come in and explain everything while I get you some ice, ok?”

“Thanks” you mutter, sitting at the kitchen counter. You fidget with your hands, not looking up until Wanda comes closer, her eyes soft as she moves the hair out of your face.

“Cold” she warns, placing a compress against your skin. You sigh with relief, holding her hand close.

“I’m sorry. I was called in to fix something I didn’t break”

“Don’t apologize for doing your job, Y/N” she says in a soft voice. “Is everyone ok? Is that how you got hurt?”

“Everyone’s ok. The parents were just pissed and I tried to break the fight”

“Does it hurt?” Wanda pulls the compress and examines the skin. It’s a little bruised, but not too swollen.

“It will later” you sigh.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You can kiss it better”

“Is that what Carol was doing earlier?” Wanda tilts her head, a dangerous look in her eyes that sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh, come on! Not fair!”

“I’m kidding” she says, finally kissing you softly. You close your eyes, relaxing for the first time in 12 hours. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, you were saving lives”

“What you feel is valid. Don’t apologize for it, ok? I’ll always listen to you, I promise” you kiss her hand, smiling when she blushes. “We’re still up for our date, right?”

“We can reschedule, you must be exhausted”

“Not a chance” you say, pulling her closer again. “I’ve been waiting too long for this”

“Well, alright. If you insist” she pecks your lips and you nod.

“I do”

“I have an… odd request” she says, avoiding your eyes.

“I won’t kink shame you, I promise”

“Can you be serious for just a second?” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. You make a motion to keep quiet, and let her speak. “Can you… pick me up around the block?”

“I can. But why am I doing it?”

“First of all, if the kids see you, they’ll want to tag along. And also… I’m not trying to be pessimistic here, I just want to protect them. It’s been the three of us since they were born and I’ve never even dated anyone, let alone someone they know” she takes a deep breath, hoping you won’t get upset.

“Billy and Tommy come first, always” you nod. “I agree to the new rule, or I can wear glasses and a fake mustache”

“Nope” she shakes her head, covering your mouth with her hand.

“A bald cap then” you mumble against her palm.

She figures the only way to make it stop is by kissing you and she leans forward, her lips against yours. You smile dreamily as she pulls apart.

“Now. Would you like some dinner?” Wanda offers, and you almost drop to your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, Wanda Maximoff”

The way she blushes and giggles makes up for all the shitty things that happened in the past hours.

—

“There’s food and snacks, a list of phone numbers on the fridge in case of an emergency”

“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff,” Morgan says, following the woman around the house. It’s her first time babysitting the twins, but Wanda has known the girl since she started giving her private art lessons and trusts her.

“Boys, I’m leaving” Wanda calls, the kids standing up from the table to hug their mom goodbye. “Be good to Morgan, ok?”

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.

“A work thing” she lies, feeling terrible about hiding the truth from the twins. But still, she knows it’s for the best to keep this private.

She waves goodbye one last time and walks past the house, noticing your car is no longer in the driveway. Her heart beats fast at the expectation of an evening together.

“Hey, gorgeous” you greet, leaning against the passenger door. “You look absolutely stunning”

You admire how amazing she looks in a pair of jeans, a white tee and a long sleeve sweater.

“So do you” she kisses you, smiling as you open the door to the car.

“Thanks, the purple eye gives my look a nice touch” you say as you begin the drive.

“Are you gonna tell me where we are going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough” you say, hoping she likes the surprise. “First stop” you announce, opening the car door for Wanda and looking at the building in front of you. 

“Artechouse. Oh, I’ve heard about this” Wanda nods, intrigued.

“I did too, but never made the time to go. Come on” you lead her to the entrance, showing your tickets. “There’s a small bar if you wanna have a drink before we go in” 

“Let’s go in now” she says, looking everywhere. 

You think it’s a good sign that she’s so interested in the exhibit, so you lead her to the start, both of you gasping as you enter a room that is projecting videos of flowers from floor to ceiling. Wanda’s hand searches yours in the dark, and you smile shyly as she holds it, walking around the room.

The intimacy of the place allows you to come closer, sharing everything you see in a low voice and enjoying the show. 

“Check this out” you say, lifting your arm, the animation following your movements. Wanda lets out a laugh, doing the same.

Each room enchants Wanda even more, the next installation featuring plants that react to the touch with light and sound. Your favorite by far is the tree that reacts differently if you’re holding hands or hugging. As you walk up to it, Wanda is still holding your hand and you both look at the screen. Well, she’s looking at the projection and you’re looking at her, thinking how beautiful she is. 

Taking a step forward, your arms go around her waist and you smile, admiring how the images change.

“It’s beautiful” Wanda whispers, turning to you. “You’re not looking” 

“I have the best view right in front of me” you smile, happy when she kisses you softly.

Wanda takes her time examining everything and once she’s done, you walk to the exit. 

“That was amazing. I forgot how much I enjoy these things. Thank you, Y/N”

“Glad you liked it” 

“Best first date I’ve had,” she smiles.

“Oh, this is only the first part. You don’t really think I’d forget about the food, right?” 

“Where are we going?”

“Well, there’s a very fancy option but I don’t feel like going with this thing on my face” you point at the bruise, annoyed. “If you’re feeling adventurous we could try something different?” 

“You look perfectly fine, darling” she kisses your cheek. “But I’m up for an adventure, so lead the way” 

“Awesome” you hold her hand, walking down the street and away from the museum. This is your favorite part of town, close to the pier and the little shops that are open until late. 

You walk down the promenade, showing Wanda some of the places you love. There’s a small gallery, a cafe, and other shops. 

“We’re here” you announce, pointing excitedly at the kebab shop. “This is fine, right? We can still go to the fancy place if you like”

“Sorry this place isn’t fancy enough for you, Majesty” the owner pops out of nowhere, scaring you.

“Samir! That’s not what I meant. You know I love your food”

“Mhm” he glares, but then smiles at Wanda. “What can I get for you, angel?”

“Well, what’s good here?” Wanda wonders, not as familiar with the dishes. “Maybe a shawarma” 

“How about a kebab box, fries to share and a doner” you suggest, “And her shawarma, of course” 

“That’s a lot of food” she protests and you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m always eating leftovers before I leave for work so it’s fine, babe” 

“Oh, well” she wants to scold you about your eating habits, but the pet name makes her dizzy. 

You pay and lead them to a small table outside, unaware of Wanda’s flustered state. You hand over a soda and open your can, taking a sip.

“We can go to other art shows whenever you want, you know? Even if I don’t understand anything, I do enjoy watching you” you smile, laughing as Wanda’s cheeks go red at the comment.

“I did enjoy it, thank you. You come here often?”

“I do, I love the food here. Samir noticed I came late because of my shifts and he always saved me some food. Nice fella” you turn to make sure he’s not listening. “But I promise I’ll take you to dinner to that other place when I don’t look like a raccoon”

“You don’t have to” 

“I kinda want to see you in a dress, all fancy like that time you left for another date” you smile at the memory of how beautiful she looked.

Wanda’s heart bursts with the way you look at her, complete adoration in your eyes. She’s almost left speechless, but her phone saves her. 

“It’s my brother” she apologizes, taking the call. “Hi, Pietro. No, I’m not with them. Because, I’m out. Of course with a babysitter, stupid” she rolls her eyes, and then switches to a language that you don’t understand, but sounds like Russian. You look at her in awe, until Samir calls for you to get the food. By the time you’re back at the table, Wanda already hung up.

“Sorry about that” 

“No, don’t worry. I guess I never asked, but are you Russian?”

“Sokovian” she corrects. “We moved to the States when Pietro and I were ten” 

“Wow. I never… you don’t even have an accent” 

“It slips up from time to time, especially if I’m angry or… flustered” Wanda says, and you almost choke on the food, thinking of all the ways you could make it come out. 

“Oh, well” you clear your throat. “Is your brother ok?”

“Yeah, he wanted to ask the boys something about video games that I don’t understand. I’m sure you would” 

“I don’t know, my knowledge is limited to things that existed when I was a kid. How’s the food?”

“Amazing. Wow” Wanda says, pleased with the flavor of the meat and how it compliments the rice and dips.

“See? We’re good enough for a first date” Samir shouts from the kitchen.

“Stop listening to our conversation” you shout back and he grumbles. Wanda smiles, thinking of something she’s wanted to ask for a while now.

“Do you ever visit your family?” 

“No, not really” you shake your head. “I pretty much left for college and never returned. Except this one Christmas, where I was feeling kind of lonely and tired. I just wanted to be home, but everything was so different, my half siblings were just too much to handle for anyone… and I didn’t even know what to do, no one bought me a present because I was never around and they just thought I’d be gone like last year”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“It’s fine” you shrug your shoulders. “I know it’s weird, but I like my life, you know? My colleagues are great, I’m doing what I love… and if I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have met you”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s their loss” Wanda smiles, kissing you. You smile against her lips. “You can always spend the holidays with us, you know? I mean, it’s too soon to talk about it, I’m just saying”

“That would be nice” you interrupt her rambling. “Now, I have something very important to ask. Out of all the neighbors, which one is the most annoying and why?”

“Well, I’d say it’s… Agatha”

“Harkness! Yes! I knew you disliked her too” 

Wanda laughs and you keep the conversation going. By the time you’re done, you pay and leave a big tip for Samir, who gives you a hug as you leave the store.

“I’m so full” Wanda says, patting her stomach. 

“I know. Oh, you want ice cream?” you say, remembering the gelato store that is a few shops ahead. 

“You just said you were full!”

“It’s ice cream, come on” you take her hand, and pay for two cones. Wanda orders strawberry while you opt for chocolate.

“How is it?” you ask as you walk down the pier, enjoying the view. 

“Amazing, have some” she offers the cone, but you kiss her instead. “That’s not what I meant” Wanda laughs against your lips.

“Well, it tastes amazing to me” you say, leaning forward and chasing after her soft lips, the flavor lingering as you deepen the kiss. Wanda sighs against your mouth, pulling you closer until your hand goes down her waist. “Best ice cream I’ve ever had” 

“Yeah” Wanda nods, her eyes closed. You peck her lips one last time, and continue your walk, still talking about everything you can think of, enjoying each other’s company.

When she checks the time more than once you get the hint, ready to go home.

“I’m sorry, I’m just being annoying, we can stay longer” 

“It’s ok, I know you like to be home early. Come on, we can drink wine or I’ll let you go to bed”

You rest your hand on Wanda’s leg for the entire ride home, unaware that your touch is making the woman restless. When you’re close to your house, you stop exactly where you picked Wanda up.

“I can just park at home, right? The boys are probably asleep”

“Yeah” Wanda nods, flustered. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when she moves forward, pulling you down for a rough kiss that takes your breath away. It’s a bit messy and desperate, and you ignore the strain of your seatbelt as Wanda pulls you closer to her, sighing against your mouth.

“You can’t park here!” an annoying person knocks on your window and you both break apart. “Oh, my! Wanda? Doctor Y/L/N?”

Damn it, it’s Agatha Harkness. Your nosy, annoying neighbor. Rolling down the window and smoothing your clothes, you smile at her.

“Hey, Miss Harkness. Sorry, I’ll move right now” 

“No, don’t worry” she gives you a sly smile. “Have a good night, you two love birds”

“Night, Agatha” Wanda says and you turn on the car, finally parking in your driveway.

“That was fun” you comment, opening the door for Wanda and crossing the street to walk her home.

“Yeah, just our luck” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. “Wanna come in? Or do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Not until Saturday. Come on” you let her lead you to her house, opening the door as quietly as possible. Wanda sees Morgan at the kitchen table, doing her homework.

“How did everything go?”

“Great, they went to sleep an hour ago” 

“Morgan Stark?” you greet, closing the door behind you. 

“You two know each other?” Wanda says.

“Yeah, my parents work at the hospital with Doctor Y/L/N” Morgan says, waving at you. “Nice to see you” 

“Did you drive here? Or want me to take you home?” 

“It’s fine, I drove here” she says, and you hand over some money before Wanda can pay her. 

“Drive safely, ok? Don’t want your dad giving me crap on the next meeting”

“Will do. Good night, Miss Maximoff”

“Night, Morgan”

“You didn’t have to pay for that too” Wanda says, kissing you. “But thank you” 

“Anytime. How do you know Morgan?” you nod when she offers you a glass of wine and you walk to the living room with her.

“I’m giving her private art lessons. She’s really good. Had no idea her parents were doctors”

“Not just any doctors, baby” you say, taking a sip. “Tony’s father built the hospital we work in. And he’s done some amazing research in neurosurgery. Pepper is also one of the best plastic surgeons in the world” 

“Wow, Morgan is so sweet and down to Earth”

“She gets that from her mom, Tony can be an ass” you mutter and Wanda laughs. “So, did I secure a second date?”

“A third one as well. But only if I can pay for the next one”

“Nu-uh. I’m spoiling you, baby” you say, your hand going to her leg. You notice how Wanda’s cheeks turn red, and you’re not sure if it’s the nickname or the contact. “Come here”

You take her glass of wine, approaching her slowly and kissing her. It’s tender at first, but then your hands travel to her lower back, and Wanda moans against your mouth. You deepen the kiss, sighing when she pushes you on your back, climbing on top of you.

Wanda kisses down your neck, biting slightly. The sudden nip makes your hips jolt forward, and she has to hold back another moan.

“I don’t know how you do it” she says, shivering when your hands travel down and cup her ass through her jeans.

“Do what, baby?”

“Drive me crazy with just one touch”

“Let me take care of you” you ask, kissing her, your hands going all the way to the front of her pants.

“Mom?”

“Shit” she mutters, both of her hands covering your mouth. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m thirsty,” Tommy says.

“Alright, don’t come down, I’ll be right there, ok?” she says, hoping the boy hasn’t noticed anything strange. But he’s too sleepy so he just agrees and returns to his room. “I’m sorry”

She removes her hands from your mouth, helping you up.

“It’s fine, I enjoy the choking but just give me a heads up”

“Stop” she says, blushing. “I’ll be right back. Unless, you want to go? I’m sorry”

“I can stay” you nod, smiling at her disheveled state.

“Alright, I’ll be back” Wanda promises, pecking your lips.

You sit up, fixing your hair and taking a sip of the wine to calm down.

“Everything ok?” you say as Wanda comes down. She nods, smiling and sitting next to you.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think they’d be up. Maybe… we could wait a bit? When I’m not worried about the boys walking in on anything”

“Of course. Come here” you open your arms, and she settles, leaning her head against your shoulder. You kiss her temple. “Wanna watch some tv?”

“What about a sitcom? I love watching those”

“Like Friends?”

“Like Bewitched or… The Dick Van Dyke show” she says and you laugh, completely caught off guard by the suggestion.

“You’re fascinating, Wanda Maximoff” you say, handing over the remote, ready to watch whatever she wants.

[not-neverland06]

conflicted spaces

Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

a/n: He doesn’t get TB in this. Why? Because this is fanfiction and I’m god and fuck canon (I just finished the game, I’m emotionally distraught and needed this)

Warnings: brief attempted SA

Summary: Your father is a gambling man and you’re always the collateral. He refuses to pay the wrong man and now you’re being dragged across country roads to a man you’ve never met. Arthur Morgan, an outlaw down to the bone, is in charge of making sure you get there in one piece. Except, he doesn’t feel right selling a woman off like she’s property.

You’re done being a doormat and letting the men in your life tell you what you’re worth. You’ve got three days to escape him, but you’re not prepared for the reality of the real world.

“Put your hands where I can see ‘em, cowboy.” Arthur’s shoulders tense and he curses under his breath. His hand darts to the revolver on his hip, but the second his fingers twitch towards it he hears a hammer being pulled back. The cool barrel of a gun digs into his neck and he raises his hand in surrender. 

The man behind him lets out a familiar laugh and tugs him around. Arthur rolls his eyes and glares at Dutch. “The hell are you doing?”

Dutch clears his throat, still laughing slightly. “Relax, Arthur, but if I had been an O’Driscoll you’d be dead right now.” Arthur doesn’t point out that the only thing they have to worry about out here are the Lemonye raiders. He’s more focused on why Dutch is even out here. Rarely does he leave Shady Belle to traverse the streets of St. Denis. 

None of them are particularly fond of the place. If he wanted to step in horse shit every other step he’d go to a stable. At least those smell better. Dutch slings an arm around Arthur’s shoulder, tugging him away from the saloon he was heading towards. 

“You’re gonna have to save the cheating for later, Arthur, I need you for something.”

“You know I don’t cheat,” Arthur jokes and Dutch grins at him and it’s nice. This is familiar to him. This feels right. Dutch has been odd lately, the jobs he’s been taking, the risks he’s been imposing, none of them feels like the man he knows. 

Now, Arthur would follow Dutch straight into hell without being asked. But he can’t abide by how he’s putting their people in harm's way. He’s felt like a stranger more often than not and he’s been doubting the people he shouldn’t. Right now, though, he can see the man he knows in the teasing curl of his lips. 

“What’dya need?”

Dutch pauses in front of a tailor and pats Arthur’s chest. “I need you to look prim and proper for a party we’ve got tonight.”

Arthur’s brows furrow cynically and he scoffs. “Someone invited us to a party?”

Dutch hesitates, a stiff smile on his face. “Well, let’s just say someone is interested in our work.” Arthur wants to question him further, he’s hiding something from him. But Dutch is pushing him towards the door of the shop before he can argue. “And get a haircut, we need to look presentable not like a bunch of mountain men.”

Arthur watches as Dutch leaves, something heavy weighing down on him. Dutch doesn’t usually tell people about his plans beforehand. At least not every step of them. But this is odd, he’s definitely hiding something and Arthur isn’t sure he wants to know what. 

With a resigned huff, he heads into the tailor. He has to mentally prepare himself for being stuffed into a starched collar and a stiff suit for the rest of the night. He hates these damn parties, hates having to pretend like he knows what the hell is being said. 

Most of the people that attend are educated or pretend to be. And when he lets it slip that he’s more likely to shoot a gun than read a book they turn on him like jackals. You can’t let them see that you’re different than them or you’ll never get a word in edgewise. 

The only part he enjoys is the booze and robbing them of their money. It’s not like they earned any of it. Most of it was made by breaking the backs of the people they mock for being too poor to afford a fancy suit. 

Arthur takes a deep breath and looks for the cheapest suit he can find in the overpriced shop. 

“Now,” Mr. Crane’s hand tightens around your bicep and he jerks you closer to him. You keep your face impassive, not letting him see just how much he’s hurting you. But you can feel your skin being stretched to its limits by his clammy fingers. “You’re going to behave tonight. I’ve got a few gentlemen I’d like you to meet.”

He looks at you expectantly but you keep your mouth firmly shut. His eyes narrow and he jerks you around roughly. “Understood,” you force the word out through gritted teeth. You’re trying to breathe as little as possible, not wanting to smell his cigar-laced breath any longer. 

Finally, after a tortuously long moment, he releases you. You take ten steps back, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles from the silk skirt he’d forced you in. You glance out the window of his office, watching as the workers scramble to set up the tables for tonight. You can hear cooks in the kitchen, shouting out orders for the food for tonight. 

Everything must be perfect. Mr. Crane never fails to deliver on his extravagantly indulgent parties. The man himself is the very embodiment of greed. You glance over with a disgusted sneer as he sinks himself into his leather chair and pulls out a wad of cash. 

He catches your eye and sends you a sickly sweet smile. “This,” he waves the money at you and you track the movement boredly. “Is how much you’re worth, sweetheart.” Your brows raise in amusement and you scoff. More than you thought he would put up for you. 

You wonder who he’s going to have transport you. He’ll need you out of the city soon, your father is starting to catch onto what’s happening. It took him long enough. You’ve been missing a month, you’d think he would have put two and two together faster. Then again, he’d never been very interested in you beyond what you were worth to others. 

“When will I be able to meet these gentlemen?” You ask, taking a step towards him. Your eyes dart towards the letter opener on his desk and for a brief moment you picture yourself strabbing it into his fattened jugular. 

But he flicks his wrist and like magic the door opens, his men coming inside and standing resolutely by your side. “Not anytime soon, my dear.” He looks to the men surrounding you and you take in a sharp breath, wishing you’d just taken the chance when you had it. “My associate is feeling quite tired, take her back to her room, please.”

They grab you by the elbows, even though it's entirely unnecessary. You wouldn’t run, and even if you did you wouldn’t get far with the chains he has hidden under your dress. A punishment for the first time you snuck from his home. You’ve been well behaved since then but he doesn’t trust you. 

You’re whisked away without another word. The trek of the stairs is a slow one. They’re forced to help you navigate by lifting your skirts and not tripping on the chains. It no longer brings you any satisfaction to cause a hindrance in any of their days. 

Before, you would think of being an annoyance as a small victory. But it’s not, it never was. It was just a way for them to keep you complacent by allowing you to think you’d done something for yourself. You believe your father used to do the same thing. 

It’s just another way of keeping you quiet. 

When you make it to your rooms, they shove you inside. Like clockwork, you hear the jingle of the keys and then the lock clicks. You sigh and take a step towards your vanity, working on touching up your hair. 

You think the worst part of this must be how well you’re treated. You have meals made by a private chef. Your quarters are decorated more lavishly than they ever were at your father’s house. Yet, you hear the suffocating tick of the clock as it counts down your doom. 

You’re not entirely sure what their plan is with you. You know your father had made a promise to Mr. Crane involving some land. Or perhaps it had been a wager. But as always, you were collateral when your father refused to pay up. 

You know Mr. Crane wants you out of town so that he has more time to negotiate with your father, to call in the interest he owes him. You also know the only reason your father is interested in finding you is because you’re meant to marry the son of a business partner in two months. The money he’ll get from that will be enough to finally pay off his debts. 

Except, now, Mr. Crane tells you that should your father refuse to pay you’ll be married to one of his associates. And the deal he’ll make from that will be enough to cover what your father has refused to pay. 

No matter what, you’re going to be married off to some man you’ve never met and yet again be a quiet trophy on a shelf. It’s a very convoluted situation, one which makes you think leaping from a window might be a better fate. 

None of the men your father or Mr. Crane is in business with are particularly kind. They’ve got more skeletons in the closet than there are in the graveyard. You doubt you’ll live a very happy life with whoever they pick for you. 

You slump forward onto the vanity, trying to fight off the burning feeling in the back of your eyes. You’ve known this would happen for years. Even before Mr. Crane had you kidnapped, you knew that this would be your destiny. You would never get to be one of the free-spirited women who fought for the right to choose. You would always be forced into this role. 

Yet, being so close to it coming to fruition makes you feel choked and suffocated. You can feel the noose around your neck tightening, the hangman’s fingers twitching as he waits to see you drop. 

You dig your nails into your palm, taking in a deep breath and fighting back the wave of despair. Where there is doom, you also see a sliver of hope. Your next journey will be a long one. He’s hiring someone to have you transported to an area further up the map. 

If you play your cards right you might be able to escape while you’re traveling. If you’re incredibly smart about this, thinking with your head and not your heart, you might have a shot at freedom. 

You take in a deep breath, reapplying your makeup and resolving yourself to another night of mindless entertainment. But you hold onto that fleeting feeling of hope. You have a shot, you just have to take it. 

Arthur’s heard of these parties before. Some Mr. Crane fella that likes to blow all his money on food and booze. He indulges his guests and when they’re weakest, gets their secrets from them. He’s a snake and everyone knows it. Yet, missing his party is social suicide. They have no choice but to go and indulge in him. 

Arthur had never had any interest in meeting him or doing any business with him. But Dutch had informed him that’s exactly what’s happening tonight. They’ll mingle for a little while, maybe scout some other jobs, and then Mr. Crane will invite them up to his office for a private discussion. 

Dutch still hasn’t told him what exactly their business with him is. He brought Hosea along tonight so he has to assume it’s not going to be anything violent. But he can’t think of anything else they could be good for. 

“Alright, gentlemen,” Dutch places his hands on Hosea’s and Arthur’s shoulders, a scheming smile on his face. “Try not to embarrass me.” He slips behind them, heading up the stairs of the home. Hosea and Arthur share a brief look before they split up, blending into the background of the garden. 

Arthur lurks near the bar, he knows he should be talking to these assholes, possibly learning something useful. But he can’t be bothered. He orders a whiskey, gaze surveying the partygoers. They’re all loud with painted faces and fake smiles. Not a goddamn person here seems to be genuinely interested in anything they’re doing. 

“First time?” The soft voice beside him catches him off guard. He glances to the side and is surprised to see that you’ve slipped past him. He hadn’t even noticed you slide up next to him. You laugh at the look on his face and it’s the first thing here that seems real. “Sorry, it’s just that look on your face, I recognize the disappointment. You’ve never been to one of Crane’s parties before?”

“No,” he clears his throat, still recovering from the surprise. “Uh, I can’t say I have.”

You suck on your teeth, narrowing your eyes at the people passing by. “They’re not worth the effort. Everyone who leaves here leaves carrying his debt on their back.”

Arthur chuckles a little, lips twitching up into a small smile. He’s surprised by your frankness, most people like to hide behind passive-aggressive digs. He appreciates the straightforward attitude. “Then why are you here?”

You shrug and Arthur finds himself enchanted. He shouldn’t be, he’s never been one for romance. He finds women pretty and he’s been in love before, but he’s never bought into the idea of love at first sight. Or any of that mushy stuff that Mary Beth devours in those books of hers. 

But you are absolutely gorgeous, dressed in a silk dress that’s so expensive he’s sure he could buy two new horses with it. Your fingers and neck are decorated in dainty jewels that you fidget with as you stare down at your drink. When you set your eyes on him again he thinks he might have been struck by Cupid’s arrow. 

“I don’t have a choice,” you finally answer, sending him a stiff smile. “What about you? Why are you here?”

Arthur suddenly remembers himself, remembers why he’s here and what he’s supposed to be doing. The fog in his head dissipates and he’s disappointed in himself. Pretty women have never done anything except get him in trouble. 

“Business,” he answers vaguely. Your eyes narrow and your brows twitch in discontent. Something like realization dawns on your face and you back away from him. The easy attitude you’d carried yourself with is gone, replaced by a vague look of distrust. 

“Right, should’ve known.” You let out a rough sigh and Arthur can’t help but feel like he’s said the wrong thing. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you again soon.” You slip past him before he can ask you what you mean. He hears the faint sound of metal clinking as you walk back up the stairs. 

Something silver flashes under your skirts but he can’t get a good glimpse of it. He feels unsettled as he turns back to the bar. The whole interaction was odd. From how stricken he was with you to how cold you turned. 

He doesn’t know what you saw in him but it was probably for the best that you left when you did. Neither of you needed the trouble the other would bring. He shakes his head, downing his whiskey and muttering nonsense to himself about not thinking with the wrong head. 

It’s not that much later that Dutch is appearing on the balcony and silently motions him forward. Arthur leaves the bar behind and slips up the same stairs you’d disappeared on. Dutch says nothing as he leads Hosea and Arthur through the house. 

The mansion is a maze more than anything. Arthur loses track of all the turns they take and the winding staircases they descend. Finally, Dutch stops them all in front of two large oak doors. He raps once on the door and then lets himself in. 

A large, balding man with a shiny head is perched on top of a leather chair. He looms behind his desk, fingers steepled as he greets them all with a false smile. “Ah, gentlemen, so nice to finally meet you.”

Dutch grins and motions to Arthur, “This is the man who will be doing the transporting, Arthur.” Arthur’s eyes narrow in confusion but he says nothing as Dutch moves to Hosea, “And this is my associate, Hosea. He’s a lot better with money than I am, Mr. Crane. You understand.”

Mr. Crane lets out a boisterous laugh that makes Arthur’s ears hurt and nods his head, his cheeks jiggling with the movement. “That I do! Well,” he waves them forward when they linger in the doorway too long, “come in, come in.”

Arthur closes the doors behind them as Mr. Crane lifts himself from his desk. There are two couches positioned in front of an unlit fire. He takes one of them and Dutch and Hosea take the other. Arthur perches himself on the armrest of their couch, eyes surveying the office like it might reveal the truth of their visit. 

“I trust Mr. Van der Linde has kept this all quiet?” 

“He has,” Arthur grouses. 

At the same time, Dutch says, “Of course, Mr. Crane. I promised confidentiality and Dutch Van der Linde is nothing if not a man who keeps to his promises.” Crane nods, looking satisfied and  Arthur holds back a laugh at how easily he seems to trust Dutch.

“Good, good.” He dips his hand inside his jacket and Arthur’s palm instinctively drops to where his gun should be. Of course, they’d had to give up their weapons before they came into the party, if he does has a gun Arthur can’t do a damn thing. 

But he doesn’t, instead, he pulls out the thickest stack of cash that Arthur has ever laid his eyes on. A loud thud resounds through the room as he slams the bills on top of the table between them. Arthur’s eyes widen and Hosea’s jaw nearly drops at the sight of it all. 

This would be enough to get them out of St. Denis tonight. Shock sours quickly into suspicion. What the hell has Dutch signed up for? “Now, this is the first half. This is simply for accepting the job and,” he gives them all severe looks, “for your silence.”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably on his perch and waits for Mr. Crane to finish. “The other half will be given once the package has been safely delivered.” There’s a certain lilt to his words when he says package that has Arthur’s hackles raising. Whatever is getting delivered is not going to be good. 

Crane turns towards the bookshelves on the wall and calls out, “Darling, won’t you join us?” Arthur figures the man must have lost his mind, they should just take the money and leave. But there’s a loud creak and something like metal gears grinding together. One of the shelves pops open and the panel swings forward. 

You pop your head out, glancing towards Crane and then taking a step forward. Arthur, without even thinking about it, finds himself sitting up, and brushing some of the dirt off his pants from the ride over. 

At first, he’s so confused by seeing you again that he doesn’t realize why exactly he’s seeing you again. Then you glance towards him, a knowing look on your face and it clicks. You’re the package. You’re what he’s meant to be transporting. 

He glares over at Dutch, when exactly did they get into the business of trading women?

Hosea voices his doubts in a much calmer manner. “If I may, sir, why does she need to be delivered so discreetly?”

Mr. Crane laughs and your face twitches unpleasantly. You grimace, glaring at the back of the man’s head with something like murder in your eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s done to cause such a visceral look of hate and he doesn’t want to think about it. This whole situation is bothering him. You’re not here willingly, which means you’re not going to be transported willingly either. 

None of this makes sense. Dutch would never have taken a job like this before, even when they needed the money. And there’s no way in hell a rich man like this one would want to pay a couple of grungy outlaws so much money. There’s got to be some sort of trick in all of this. 

Cran clears his throat, “She’s a daughter of a, well,” he frowns and struggles for the words. “Let’s just say we’re in a hostile competition for a lot of land. This land, boys, could be very beneficial in expanding my business. He’s not interested in selling and, well, desperate times, desperate measures.”

You scoff, laughing slightly at him and rounding the couch. Dutch ignores you, Hosea looks uncomfortable, and Crane continues prattling on without missing a beat. “Should her father not pay me, she will be married to the associate you’re bringing her to. He’s promised me enough land and money to cover what I lost to her father. And if he does pay, she’ll be returned in time for her wedding here.”

Arthur’s eyes dart towards you and you send him a bitter smile. It makes him shift where he sits, hating the way your eyes bore into him. “I just need someone who's not afraid of getting their hands a little dirty to make sure she behaves while she’s delivered to my friend,” Crane glances over at Arthur. He asses him, the bulge of his arms in the suit and the scars on his face, whatever he finds must be satisfactory because he smiles over at Dutch. 

Arthur stands, ready for Dutch to tell Mr. Crane that they’re not in the business of selling women off. But Dutch doesn’t, he smiles at Mr. Crane and reaches for the money, passing it off to Hosea to count. “Well, I do believe my friend Arthur is just the man for the job.” 

“I think you’re right, Dutch.” He stands up now, pot belly nearly bursting the buttons of his shirt, and reaches for Dutch’s hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Dutch smiles and takes his sweaty palm, “You as well, sir.” Dutch walks towards you and holds his arm out. “This way, my dear.” You glance between him and his elbow before rolling your eyes and reluctantly placing your hand on his arm. You follow him silently and obediently, no fight is left in you. Hosea follows after you both, a concerned look on his face. 

Arthur remains in the office, standing dumbfounded and staring at the doorway you’d disappeared through. He’s struggling to process what just happened. Arthur has helped people get home safely before and provided protection. But he’s never been one to traffic a hostage. 

Crane glances up, finally noticing him still standing there. He walks past him, patting his shoulder as he does and giving him an approving smile. “Don’t be afraid to take care of her should she get out of hand.” He’s nearly out the door but he looks back and adds, “Just don’t bruise her too much.”

Arthur’s fingers twitch for his revolver once more and he’s never wanted to shoot a man more. But he knows Dutch is waiting for him and he’d never make it out of here alive if he started a fight right now. Reluctantly, he makes his way out of the manor and towards where you’re all waiting for him. 

He’s fuming by the time he stops in front of Dutch. He’s trying to help you onto his horse and Arthur finally realizes what the metal sound he heard earlier is. There are chains around your ankles and you can’t maneuver yourself on the saddle. 

His eyes narrow and he glares at Dutch, “What the hell are you doing? We’re selling women now?”

Dutch glowers at the tone of Arthur’s voice. You watch them both passively, fiddling with the rings on your fingers and looking unbothered by the entire situation. “Watch yourself, Arthur,” there’s a clear warning in his tone but Arthur’s too upset to care. 

They’ve done a lot of bad things. They weren’t good men. But this was just going too far. “We need this, Arthur. You want to get out of here, you want to keep our people safe?” Arthur let out a deep exhale, gritting his teeth together and nodding reluctantly. Dutch huffs, “That’s what I thought. We’re not selling anyone, Arthur. It’s a simple delivery.”

His jaw clenches as he watches Dutch struggle to help you again. “It’s not going to work,” you inform Dutch. You lift your skirts, flashing him the chains he hadn’t seemed to notice yet. Neither of you gets a chance to say anything as Arthur pulls out his gun and shoots the lock off. 

He feels a little guilty at how startled you look. Your eyes widen until they look like they might bulge out. Your hands fly up to cover your ears as the sound rocks through you. It breaks violently through the silence of the night. 

Dutch turns and gives him a stern look, “Have you forgotten the meaning of subtlety?” Arthur can tell he’s trying not to shout and drag any more attention towards you all. 

Arthur glares at Dutch, something wicked brewing in his stomach. “The lady wouldn’t be able to ride a horse like that.” He mounts his horse and rides off without a look back. He can’t stand to be near you or Dutch any longer. 

The reality of what they’ve turned into hits him like a bag of rocks and it makes him irate. They’ve never been these people. Never traded a person off like they were an object. He’s sure plenty of people in camp would have a problem with this. But he doubts Dutch will let them know the truth until the job is done. 

And by then, everyone will be too happy with the money to complain. Dutch is nothing if not good at saving his ass. He’s hitching his horse as the rest of you ride into camp. He lingers by Diablo, resting a hand on the thick neck of the shire while Dutch helps you off the saddle. 

His eyes narrow in on the way Dutch’s fingers glide along your waist as you jump down. You take a step back the second your legs are steady sending Dutch a dirty look that almost makes Arthur laugh. 

He starts towards Dutch, ready to try and reason with him again. But he holds his hand up and walks away, not even giving him a chance to speak. Arthur lets out a rough sigh as Hosea comes up behind him. 

He pats his shoulder comfortingly, “You should get some sleep, Arthur. You’ll ride with her to Strawberry tomorrow morning.” He almost walks off but he whispers a quiet, “I’m sorry,” before he goes. 

Arthur glances towards you but you’re looking around the camp, eyes lingering on Javier as he sings by the fire. He swears he almost sees you smile but it's gone as quickly as it came. He takes his hat off, running his hand through his hair and letting out a tired sigh. 

“Alright, come with me,” he starts towards the house. It takes a minute to realize you’re not directly behind him. When he looks over your shoulder he sees you with your skirts lifted, tiptoeing through the mud and trying not to get your pretty skirts dirty. 

He rolls his eyes, storming back towards you. Your eyes widen at the look on his face and you stumble back a few steps. Undeterred, he bends over, throwing you over his shoulder and walking towards the house. 

Your hands claw at his back, desperately grasping onto his shirt so you keep your balance. He storms up the stairs, ignoring the alarmed looks he gets from others in camp. He can already hear them whispering, wondering who you are and why he’s dragging you into his room. 

They can make up whatever the hell they want. Arthur’s too pissed off to give a shit about rumors tonight. He drops you unceremoniously onto his bed and storms back out. He heads downstairs, rooting around in one of the chests for some extra clothes. 

You won’t be able to ride to Strawberry in those ridiculous clothes. You’ll need some pants if you’re going to sit on the horse properly. He tucks the outfit under his arm and makes his way back to you. 

When he opens the door your hand immediately darts away from his shaving kit and shoves itself under your butt. His brows furrow as he catches a flash of silver in your hand. He places the clothes down on the end of the bed, eyes drifting towards his shaving kit. Sure enough, his razor seems to be missing. 

He lets out a sigh and you tense up, hand clenching around your prize. He briefly debates taking it from you. But he figures you should be allowed a modicum of comfort. Even if you did try and use it against him it’s dull, he hasn’t sharpened it in a while and you wouldn’t be able to do much damage anyway. 

He lets you keep it, leaving you on your own without another word. He can hear the exhale of relief you let out when he walks away and it makes him feel just a little better about this. At least you’re not completely terrified. 

You change into the clothes Arthur gave you. They’re a little big, but you appreciate the pants. It’s much better than the ridiculous dresses Crane had you in. You collect your dress and toss it out the window of Arthur’s room, watching it sink into the mud pit below. It brings you some satisfaction to see Crane’s pretty silk getting ruined. 

You take off the jewelry you’d been given and stuff it into your boots. If you did manage to escape while you were traveling with Arthur then you were going to need some cash. You could sell off the jewels and hopefully, it would be enough to keep you comfortable. 

It feels nice, to wear real clothes. Not being dressed up like a doll for once. You envy some of the women here, who can wear what they want. There is an appeal to the outlaw life. As long as you’re on the right side of it, which, currently, you’re not. 

You slip out of the house before anyone has a chance to retrieve you. The whole night you were curled up around a dull razor with your eyes wide open. Spending a night surrounded by outlaws isn’t exactly restful. 

You figure you might as well try and walk around before you’re on the back of a horse for the rest of the day. There are more people up than you’d expected. Luckily, you don’t see Dutch around anywhere. You don’t feel like having to deal with any more of his false charm or empty apologies. 

The same man you’d seen strumming his guitar the night before is asleep next to the dying fire. A blonde woman catches your eye, she’s walking past some other women in dresses. They’re still asleep but she looks like she’s been up for hours. 

There’s a bit of blood on her pants and you briefly wonder what she’d been doing. “Who are you?” She asks, surveying you from head to toe with suspicion in her eyes. 

“A package,” you tell her bluntly, walking past her towards the only lit fire of camp. She follows you, a wry grin on her face as she watches you pour yourself some coffee. 

“You’ve got a real attitude, I like it.” 

You huff out a laugh, taking a sip of the burnt coffee and giving her a brief smile. “I’m sure my future husband won’t.” 

She rolls her eyes and scoffs, waving you off. “Husbands, good for nothing. I loved mine but he was useless as a sack o’ flour. You’re better off without them.”

Your smile turns strained and you look down at your feet, at the boots that aren’t your own. You’ll never get to dress like this again. Or speak like this to a woman who isn’t afraid to voice what's on her mind. 

“Yes, well,” you shrug and meet her eyes again, “I don’t seem to have much of a choice.”

Her eyes narrow and she frowns, “What’s that supposed to-”

“Mrs. Adler!” Dutch’s voice booms from across the camp and forces the others awake. Most of them grumble, but they’re quick to get started on morning chores. “I see you’ve met our guest,” he says your name with a flourish that almost makes you laugh. 

He’s a good actor. He’s especially good at covering up his mistakes. “Yeah, what’s going on, Dutch? Who is she? Why don’t you guys ever let me in on this stuff?” She fires off questions rapidly, you almost don’t catch them all. There are clearly underlying issues here other than your unexpected presence. 

“In due time,” he assures her, laying the charm on thick. But even you can tell he’s full of it. He’s not planning on letting her in on anything unless it benefits him. “And this is our guest, her fiancee has paid us handsomely to provide her safe passage back to him.” 

He walks towards you, laying a hand over your arm and squeezing slightly. You give Sadie a stiff smile and let him lead you away. “I do believe it’s best that you just wait for Arthur, dear.” He gives you a look that lets you know it’s an order, not a suggestion. 

Still, you play along, “I think you might be right, Mr. Van der Linde, thank you for the hospitality.” You run a tired hand over your face, sitting down on the stoop of the house and finishing off the rest of your coffee. Dutch watches you for a while, never straying too far from where you are and intercepting anyone who asks about you. 

He spins quite the romantic tale of your lost love and how he desperately wants you back. You wish it were true, that you were living out some wonderful fairytale and were about to be reunited with the love of your life. Instead, it feels like one long walk to the gallows. 

The wood creaks behind you and you don’t need to turn to see who it is. “Ready?” Arthur asks and you figure he means, ready to leave freedom and happiness and the will to live behind? 

No, “Sure,” you toss the rest of the coffee into the grass and leave the mug on the stairs. You get to your feet and let him lead you towards the horses. He shares a brief look with Dutch as you pass by him but it doesn’t look entirely pleasant. 

He makes his way toward a towering black shire and your eyes widen in horror. “What’s this?”

He works on saddling the horse up, not paying much attention to you. “This is Diablo.” You take a step closer and the horse starts huffing, swinging his neck towards you with his lips pulled back. You jump back a step back, eyeing him warily. 

Arthur glances over and lets out a low chuckle, “He won’t bite. He’s just curious.”

“Mhm,” you give him a disbelieving look. “You’ll have to excuse me for being wary, I’ve not met a lot of horses.”

Arthur looks a bit shocked by your admission. “Really?” He questions, sounding doubtful. 

You give him a brief smile and nod. “Hard to believe, I know, but I’ve lived a very sheltered life, Mr. Morgan. Haven’t had many opportunities for exploring on my own.” 

He opens his mouth, looking like he wants to say something. At the last second, he stops himself, instead taking a step closer to you. You flinch away from him when he reaches for you and he lets out a sigh. “You can’t spend the next three days terrified of him, come on.”

He coaxes you forward and you reluctantly step closer to the beast. He chuckles at the scared look on your face. You don’t appreciate how much amusement he’s gaining from this. “Come on,” he mutters, taking your wrist and leading you closer to Diablo. 

The damn thing is named Devil, how could you not be terrified of it? 

“He won’t bite, I promise.” You don’t trust him but he doesn’t give you much of a choice. He presses your open palm to Diablo’s nose and you wince, bracing for him to lash out at you. 

But he doesn’t, he lets out a soft knicker and it seems like he doesn’t even care that you’re there. You let out a relieved laugh, running your hand tentatively over his muzzle. It’s shockingly soft and oddly squishy. 

He doesn’t seem to mind as you awe over him. You smile and glance over at Arthur but it drops when you see the odd look on his face. He seems perplexed by your reaction and you can’t fathom why. “You really never have ridden a horse before, have you?”

You shake your head, “No. I told you.”

He purses his lips and nods. You don’t know what it is about this that’s bothering him and you don’t care to ask. If he doesn’t believe just how strict your upbringing has been then fine. “Alright, come on, we need to get a move on.” 

He leads you around to the saddle and helps you up on the back of the horse. It’s beyond odd, sitting on something in pants. Getting to spread your legs freely is something you are going to greatly enjoy during this journey. 

Arthur takes off without much warning and you yelp, throwing your arms around his waist to steady yourself. He glances over his shoulder at you but says nothing. You turn your head, watching as the camp gets smaller and smaller. 

The people mill about, greet each other, and break bread together. It hits you suddenly, this will be the last time you get to see people being free. If you don’t get out, if you can’t escape, your life will be filled with starched collars and powdered faces. You’ll never have a genuine conversation with someone again. You’ll be turned into pretty jewelry hanging off the arm of a man you never met. 

The ride to Strawberry is three days at least. You have three days to get your plan together and to escape. You almost feel sorry for Arthur and the repercussions he’ll have to face losing you. But not sorry enough that you’re not gonna try. 

Arthur’s speed evens out and you let your arms relax, easing away from him slightly. Your wrist jolts against the gun on his hip and you eye it curiously. If you had a gun there would be no doubt you could escape. You see Arthur’s fingers twitch on the reigns of the horse and you move your arms higher up his torso. 

You doubt you’ll be a quicker draw than he is. He is an outlaw after all. You don’t think he’d have many qualms about delivering you to your fiancee with a few extra holes in your gut. Your mind drifts to the razor in your pocket and you consider it for a moment. 

You’re sure you’d be quick enough to just whip it out and slit his throat. You sigh and dismiss the thought. You were a lot of things but you were not a murderer. There are lines you can’t bring yourself to cross. Besides, as wicked as what he’s doing to you is, you know he’s a good man. 

It was an instinctual feeling. Mr. Crane and your father were both horrible, evil men. They knew nothing but greed and would never be satisfied by all the riches they reaped. They were the type of men you looked at and knew deep down that there was nothing left to save. 

Arthur has undoubtedly bad things. You don’t become an outlaw without spilling some blood. He was weathered and rough from a hard life, but that didn’t mean there was nothing good left in him. You won’t have his blood on your hands, no matter how much you might want to get away from him. 

As grateful as Arthur is for the silence, it is odd. He’s helped a few ladies find their way back home before and for some reason, they seem to think he’s the best listener in the world. It seems everyone who rides with him wants to tell him their life stories. 

You’re completely silent, though. He has to keep looking back just to make sure you haven’t fallen off the back of the horse. You’re pretty complacent, following along with whatever Dutch said and coming along quietly. You seem beaten down, the fight dragged out of you. 

He wonders what Mr. Crane had done to you. A few times, he’s seen just a glimpse of the spark that used to be there. But it was snuffed out before he got a chance to know it. He almost wishes you would talk. It would distract him from what he was doing right now.

It didn’t feel right, bringing you along to marry a man you’ve never even met. He has to keep reminding himself that it would have happened no matter what. Ladies like you are always sold off into a profitable marriage. The only thing he’s doing is switching up who the fiancee might be. 

None of that makes him feel better, though. He should be helping you, not dragging you away to your worst nightmare. But, his people come first. The amount of money Dutch’ll get from this will be enough to get them all out of here. This could finally be the last score. 

You gasp behind him and he whips his head around, immediately expecting someone to be following along beside you both. Maybe your father’s men or just some raiders. But he doesn’t see anything except a herd of deer running through the trees. 

His brows furrow in confusion and he glances back at you. You’re watching them like they’re something spectacular. Arthur’s always been a fan of the quiet beauty of nature. He appreciates them in ways most folks don’t understand. But you’re looking at ‘em like you just found God. 

“Never seen deer before?” He teases, chuckling a little at your reaction. 

You startle, not realizing he had been watching. You clear your throat and look away from them sheepishly. He almost feels bad for ruining the moment for you. “No. No, I haven’t.” 

He knows it's possible, but it’s astounding to him that someone truly lived their whole life in the city. It just doesn’t seem right. Cities are full of shit, smog, and bad people. Not even having a moment out of that your whole life seems like torture. 

“I’ll just enjoy it while it lasts,” you mutter, eyes darting back to the tree line. But the deer are gone and you don’t look very interested anymore. 

“Right,” he shifts forward, the air between you awkward. He’d only meant it in jest. He didn’t mean to remind you of what was about to happen to you. He doesn’t like the silence, not this time, it feels wrong. It makes him stew in his shame and that’s a nasty feeling. 

Selfishly, he prods you for more. “A few days on the road, you’ll be eager for the city again.”

You laugh but there’s no humor to it. “I very much doubt that Mr. Morgan.”

“Arthur,” he corrects, “just call me Arthur.”

“Right,” your tone remains cold, “well if you don’t mind Arthur, I’d like to ride there in silence.”

He's got no other choice but to comply. If you don’t want to talk he won’t make you. He just wishes he could make this a little easier for you both. 

Camping is something. You don’t have a word for it. It’s nice to be out in nature and embrace it for the first time in your life. But you really would not mind the comfort of your bed right now. 

Rocks digging into your spine and head do not make for a good night’s sleep. You’ve been lying in front of the fire for hours, flipping around uselessly. It doesn’t matter how much you shift, the rock stays digging painfully into you. 

You let out a loud huff, flopping onto your back and glaring up at the starry sky in defeat. At least the view is nice. In the city, you can’t see the stars. The smoke’s too thick and you never get a good look at them.

Out here, they almost feel fake. They’re so bright and beautiful, you thought the paintings in the museum had always been exaggerating just how breathtaking a night sky can be. But you were wrong. And you hate that there’s a potential future where you’ll never get to see this again. 

“Would you quit squirming so damn much?”

You shoot up, resting on your elbows and glaring over at Arthur. He’s got his hat over his eyes, arms crossed, and looking like he’s been asleep for the past few hours. You hadn’t realized you’d been keeping him up. 

“Some of us aren’t used to sleeping outside,” you hiss, throwing yourself back down to the ground. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you figure that’s the end of it. You clench your eyes shut, counting sheep in your mind and trying to force yourself asleep. 

You hear boots crunching across leaves and your eyes fly open. Arthur’s standing over you, hands propped on his hips as he glares down at you. “Can I help you?” You snap when you get tired of the staring. 

He scoffs and shakes his head, kneeling to be eye level with you. You’re startled by the proximity, an odd heat creeping up your neck. “Come on, I’m gonna tire you out. Maybe then you’ll get some sleep.”

You gasp, astonished at the audacity of his suggestion. “Excuse me?” You demand, tone incredulous. 

His brows furrow before he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Not like that,” he grouses. “Get up,” he doesn’t give you much of a choice. He places his hand under your back, shoving you onto your feet. You stand with a slight stumble, glaring at him as you brush dirt off your shirt and pants. 

You can’t help the snotty tone of your voice as you ask, “What are we doing?” 

“Huntin,’” He answers gruffly, going over to the horse and taking the bow out of his saddle. 

Your brows furrow as you recall the few stories your father told you of hunting bison. “Aren’t you supposed to use a rifle?”

He shakes his head and nods towards the treeline. You glance back at the fire before reluctantly following him into the dark forest. The moon is full enough that it provides just enough light for you not to be terrified of what’s lurking in the underbrush. 

“Got a friend,” he tells you, kneeling and glancing at some tracks on the ground. “Taught me how to hunt properly. Bows are quieter, less disruptive, and they provide quicker, cleaner kills.” He looks back at you and motions towards the arrows, “Less pain for the animal.”

Your face slacks with something like astonishment. All you’d heard from your father was the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of the kill. He never mentioned keeping anything from the animal, using it for meat, or about how long it took for them to die. You’d never thought there was anybody who actually cared for the creature’s comfort as it died. 

You suppose there’s going to be a lot about Arthur that’s different from the men you know. 

“Arthur,” a twig snaps behind you, and your eyes widen. You drop your voice to a whisper, not wanting to draw too much attention towards you both. “I don’t want to kill anything,” you hiss.

“Ha!” He barks out a laugh and you purse your lips in irritation. He stands and looks at you, chuckling again before shaking his head. “I wouldn’t be so confident in your huntin’ skill, kid.”

You click your tongue and glare at him, “Don’t call me that,” you snap. It’s the same patronizing nickname your father loved to use on you and you detest it. He raises his hands in surrender and you roll your eyes at the smirk on his face. “Then what’s the point of this?”

He shrugs and heads further into the trees, you have no choice but to follow along behind him. “Figure you should be taught a few skills before I get rid of ya.”

You want to argue with him that there’s no point. If you are given to Crane’s associate, you’ll never set foot in the woods again. However, if you do manage to escape him, learning a few survival skills wouldn’t be a bad idea. 

So, you keep your mouth shut and let him lead you through the forest. “How do you know where to go?” You ask, trying to figure out what it is he keeps looking at in the mud. He waves you forward, moving you so you’re standing directly in front of him. 

“You see that?” You have to squint, relying solely on the light from the moon, to make out what he’s pointing at. There are some tracks in the mud that look vaguely like hooves. “It’s buck tracks, you can tell by the size.” He kneels and when you don’t follow he tugs you down by the sleeve. “You can’t rely on just the tracks, though. You have to look for other signs of ‘em.”

You glance around, noticing some crushed twigs and grass a few feet ahead. “Like that?” You point towards it and he huffs in amusement. 

“Caught on quicker than I thought.”

You feel vaguely offended by that but don’t bother voicing it, just glare at his back as he gets up. You walk silently through the forest, letting Arthur show you which tracks to follow and which to avoid. You’re not comforted by how many cougar prints you find. You stare up into the branches always expecting something to already be looking down at you. 

Miraculously, no wild cat chooses you for dinner as you track the buck down. You find him near a small stream, antlers dipping into the water as he takes a drink. He’s got to be one of the most gorgeous creatures you’ve ever seen. 

You’ve lived your whole life in St. Denis. The most you’ve seen are overworked carriage horses and mangy dogs. No life slips through the cracks of that place. There’s just smoke and misery. This is nature, real beauty. It’s breathtaking, the way the leaves ripple in the wind and the starlight reflects in the water. 

You can’t imagine seeing this and wanting to tear it down to put up an oily machine that contributes nothing to the earth but death. It just makes you hate your father more. It also makes you more resolved to not be forced back into that life. You can’t do it. You can’t have this one taste of freedom and then let it go without a fight. 

Arthur pulls the bow out and nocks an arrow. You glance between him and the buck and rapidly shake your head. “No,” you hiss, “I don’t wanna kill it.”

He rolls his eyes and moves you in front of him. You don’t have much choice as he places your hands on the string and guides you into the right position. “Relax,” he murmurs in your ear as you fight against his grip. “You ain’t gonna kill it.” 

It doesn’t bring you much comfort, but if you’re going to make it on your own, sometimes you’ll have to do something you don’t like. “Now,” his hand drifts down your bicep and you suck in a sharp breath. “Don’t hold it too long, you’ll get tired.” 

It’s dawning on you just how close you both are. You’re kneeling on the ground with him behind you, essentially cradling your body to him. You’ve never been this familiar with a man before, it’s making your brain short-circuit. You can hardly pay attention to what he’s telling you. 

He lifts your elbow slightly and points you towards the left. “You need to keep your arm steady even after you let go or your aim will be off. Take in a deep breath and release on the exhale.” You give him an apprehensive look, still not wanting to hurt the buck. He just nods and there’s something in his gaze that lets you relax slightly. 

You release the string and the arrow flies over the buck’s head, burying itself into the tree behind it. Its head shoots up and it turns towards you both before dashing off. You let out an astonished laugh, glancing down the bow and then back at Arthur. 

“My god, I’ve never shot anything before.”

“Congratulations, you’ve killed your first tree,” he remarks dryly, but you see the glint of humor in his eye. 

He gets to his feet and offers you a hand up. You smile up at him, undeterred by his attitude. “Thank you for this,” you tell him earnestly. He gives you an odd look but nods anyway. He doesn’t understand just how important this is to you. Knowing how to do something like this is the difference between life and death when you’re on your own. Of course, he doesn’t realize you’ll be making an escape attempt soon. 

He retrieves the arrow from the tree and you run your hand over the curve of the bow. You wonder just how much he’d miss this if you took it from him. 

Arthur’s tearing down the camp and you’re standing by Diablo, feeding him some apples. You stroke absentmindedly over the horse's muzzle, watching Arthur intently. He’s too busy pulling the tent apart to be paying attention to you. 

You got better sleep last night than you did at Crane’s. He was right, hunting had tired you out. You were eager enough to sleep that you didn’t even feel the rough ground underneath you. He seems to be a little more lax about his watch over you. 

Something about last night must have eased him into a sense of comfort that you’re not going to run. That’s his own fault, though. You glance over the curve of the hill, noticing a carriage that will be passing by soon enough. 

You look back at Arthur and ease slightly away from Diablo. Arthur is still collecting the blankets and rolling them up. He turns towards the dying fire and tosses the rest of the coffee out. You take another step back and he keeps his back to you. 

Slowly, you release Diablo’s reigns, giving him one last apple before you turn on your heel and run down the hill. Your foot slips out from under you and you let out a loud yelp as you go flying headfirst down the grass. 

You land on your back with enough impact to make the breath rush out of you. But your descent is still going and you’re flipping over headfirst into the road. You slide forward, the dirt scraping up your chin as you cough and try and catch your breath. 

“Look out!” You roll out of the way just before the carriage rolls over you. Someone shouts your name from the top of the hill and you see Arthur glaring down at you. He starts towards you and you scramble to your feet. 

“Stop!” You scream, waving your arms wildly and chasing after the carriage. The man gives you a bewildered look as you throw yourself at him. “Please, sir, I’ve been kidnapped, you must help me get back to my husband.”

The man looks behind you, sees a very angry Arthur bellowing out your name, and moves to the side. “Hurry up,” he urges, giving you a hand on the bench beside him. You let out a relieved breath, taking his hand and throwing yourself the rest of the way up. 

He whips the horses, hurrying them along all the while Arthur is yelling after you. It’s not hard to believe that he would kidnap you. He looks half-crazed as he follows along behind you. You turn over your shoulder, giving him a brief wave and a smile. “Thanks for the help,” you tell the man beside you. You offer your hand and name. 

He glances down at it but doesn’t take it, instead looking forward and ignoring you entirely. Something uneasy settles in your stomach but you push it aside. You blame the feeling on the adrenaline still pumping through you. 

“Where are you headed?” You ask, glancing into the back of the carriage. You notice some moonshine and a crate full of guns but decide not to question it. 

“Said yer husband’s waitin’ for ya?” He demands, completely ignoring your question. You stare at the side of his face but his expression isn’t giving anything away. He comes to an intersection. You see a sign pointing towards a town and figure he’s going to take it, but instead, he pulls onto a smaller trail leading to the woods. 

“Um,” you clear your throat uncertainly, glancing back at the sign. “Yes,” your voice cracks and you know you sound like you’re full of shit. 

He laughs and the sound sends chills down your spine. You rip your eyes off of him, looking down at the horses and suddenly realizing just what you’d gotten yourself into. “You sure about that, little lady?”

Something cold digs into your side and you gasp quietly, looking down to see a gun pressed against your ribs. “You scream, run, or do anythin’ to piss me off and I’ll put a fourth hole in ya.” When you don’t say anything he digs it harder into you. “Understand?” He growls and you can do nothing but nod your head. 

You want to move, want to shove him off the side of the carriage and make a run for it. But you can’t, you’re frozen solid. You’re so petrified with fear you can’t even blink. You think you’re holding your breath, as if taking in air is going to set the gun off. 

He grins, a blackened curl of lips over rotted teeth, at your obedience and comes to a stop in the trees. “What are you doing?” You whisper, staring at the secluded area with a newfound sense of horror. 

“Shut up,” he snaps, his voice echoing through the quiet of the woods. You hear no birds or animals and you feel so alone it makes you want to cry. He gets off the carriage and turns towards you. “Down,” he demands. Your eyes dart towards the reigns of the horses and he pulls the hammer of the gun back. “Don’t even think about it.”

You lift your hands in the air, slowly slipping down the seat. He doesn’t appreciate you taking your time He grabs the front of your shirt, jerking you further into the trees and tossing you to the ground. 

You let out a rough groan at the impact, blood staining your shirt as your elbow slips across a jagged rock. It’s like something is snapped loose in your mind. He comes stomping towards you, kneeling between your spread legs and it finally clicks. 

You lunge forward with a shout and he rears back in surprise. You wonder how often someone’s actually fought against him or just let it happen. You don’t want to die, you don’t want to get shot by this scum, but there are a lot of things worse than dying. 

You grab the arm holding the gun, jerking it around, and knocking it out of his hand. “You bitch!” He hisses, bringing his open palm down across your cheek. The smack rings through the trees and ricochets through the air. Your head whips to the side so hard you think you might have snapped your neck. 

Blood dribbles out from your lips, your teeth having bitten into the fat of your cheeks. You spot the gun nearby, the silver of the barrel glinting from under the leaves. Just as you reach for it, he’s wrapping his hands around your ankles and dragging you back towards him. 

You feel like screaming as your hands desperately grasp at the dirt underneath you. But there’s not enough air to scream. You dig your nails into the mud, feel them split against the rocks, and kick at his chest hard enough to make him lose his breath. 

His grip on you loosens and you throw yourself at the pile of leaves. Hands groping for something solid. Just as he flips you over you wrap your hand around the handle of the gun. You pull the trigger and the bang is deafening. 

Your ears ring and your hands are trembling from the recoil. His jaw goes slack and he tumbles on top of you. You let out a grunt, breath pushed out of you by his weight. You scramble against his chest, something warm making your hands slip as you struggle to roll him off of you. 

You glance over, waiting for him to spring back up. But there’s something dark pooling around him and sinking into the dirt below. There’s a hole in his chest and his eyes are already flattening. You fall back against the earth, staring up at the trees above you. 

The sounds rush back to you all at once. The birds singing, deers prancing somewhere in the distance. You hear a stream rushing nearby and let out a stunned laugh. There’s a smile on your face but there’s nothing to be happy about. 

You think you might be in shock. Mind still trying to catch up to what just happened. You glance down at the gun in your hand and toss it to the side, not wanting it near you anymore. Only a second later do you reach for it again. 

You struggle onto your hands and knees, checking over yourself for any injuries that you might be numb to right now. The only blood on you is from the dead man on the ground. You keel over, hands on your knees, and suck in a deep gasping breath. 

You stumble back, limping towards the carriage. You dig around in the back of the wagon, tugging out a giant hunting knife and walking towards the horses. You cut them loose, keeping the rope on one of them and tugging yourself onto her back. You tuck the knife in your belt and nudge her side, leading her forward gently. 

You don't even have time to process the fact that you’re riding a horse on your own. Your body is moving on autopilot. You can only think about getting ahead, getting away. What just happened will hit you later. You slump against the neck of the horse, adrenaline leaking out of you and exhaustion catching up. 

He’s going to find you and he’s going to kill you. Leaving while he had his back turned. Getting on some carriage with a man you’ve never met before. How dumb do you have to be? You can’t trust people out here. Not when there are gangs, raiders, hell, he’s encountered a few cannibals. 

For all he knows, you’re already dead and he’ll be delivering a body to the train station. The thought makes him curse and urge Diablo forward. It’s not hard to follow the tracks of the carriage, what concerns him is when they lead into the forest instead of the town. 

“Goddammit,” he mutters, “the hell have you done woman?” He leaps off Diablo, figuring it will be easier to track you on foot. He follows the paths of the wheels, finding the wagon abandoned and the horses cut loose. 

His brows furrow in confusion as he wanders around the side and spots a lump in the leaves. All he can see is the bottom of a boot and blood splattered across the orange of the fallen leaves. 

His stomach plummets and he races towards it. But it’s not you buried under the foliage, it’s the man who offered you a ride. “What the hell?” He kneels, brushing the leaves off his chest and frowning when he sees the blood splattered all along his chest. 

He doesn’t need to look long to figure out what killed him. He’s sure the bullet buried in his heart did the job. Arthur curses and stalks away from the man. There are prints where the horses were but there are too many to tell which one you might have taken. 

He’ll have to rely on instinct to find you. You’re becoming a real pain in the ass for what was supposed to be a simple job. Still, he can’t help but be a little relieved that it was a stranger and not you lying dead on the ground. 

He turns back onto the road, taking the turn into town. Someone on horseback rides past him, they look disgusted by something up ahead and it makes alarms go off in his head. He urges Diablo forward, running the rest of the way into town. 

An unsaddled mare lazily eats some grass as the sound of a rushing river meets his ears. Diablo’s hooves sound off against the wood of the bridge. He finally sees what disturbed the other rider so much. 

You’re sitting on the railing of the bridge, legs dangling dangerously over the edge as you stare down into the crashing waters below you. Arthur gets off his horse, approaching you slowly. He doesn’t want to startle you and have you go tumbling over the edge. 

He calls out your name and you glance briefly over at him. Blood is splattered across your neck and the front of your shirt is soaked with it. He knows it isn’t yours but it still puts him on edge. “What’re you doin’ kid?” 

You don’t answer him, “Did you follow me?” He eases up beside you, straddling the railing so he can catch you if you slip. He nods and you let out a rough sigh. “Is he dead?”

He scoffs, “Sure as shit hope so, don’t know how someone would survive that.”

A manic laugh bursts through your lips and you double over your head falling into your hands. Arthur surges forward, steadying you before you dive headfirst into the river. “Alright, let’s go,” he quietly urges you around. You don’t put up a fight, letting him maneuver you how he likes.

He gets you on your feet and leads you back to Diablo. You latch onto the horse's reigns immediately, stroking your hand over his mane. Your silence is concerning. Arthur doesn’t know what your regular behavior is, the most he’s seen of you, you have been quiet. This is different, though. He’s seen this sort of quiet in women before and it never ends pretty. 

“You’re alright, come on,” he tries to keep his voice low so he doesn’t set you off. He keeps his hands light as they land around your waist, giving you help onto Diablo’s saddle. Your gaze is distant and you move like someone else is controlling your body. 

He collects the mare you’d brought along with you and leads both horses into town. He’ll have to get a saddle for her, she already seems attached to you. And maybe taking a horse with you into the city will let you escape a little. 

The town, at least, is on the way to Strawberry so he doesn’t have to worry about being too far off schedule. Though, that’s the least of his concerns right now. His eyes keep darting up to you. Waiting for you to try and bolt again or finally break down. It doesn’t look like anything is going on in your head, you seem completely distanced from the situation. 

It’s a good thing for him. He can’t handle a distraught woman. He’s not a kind enough man for it. 

He hitches the horses in front of the hotel. You turn in the saddle, staring down at him and waiting for a hand down. You slide easily through his hands, landing in the mud with a dull thud and heading up the stairs of the hotel without prompt. 

He huffs and follows after you. He doesn’t know how to explain the blood on your clothes away and hopes he won’t have to. The man running the place, thankfully, doesn’t have many questions. He looks disturbed but keeps his qualms to himself when Arthur slips him a little extra cash. 

Arthur guides you up the stairs with a light hand on your back, opening the door of the bath for you. “Alright, here’s your room key. I’ll be out for a while so, just,” he sighs, taking in the blank look on your face and shaking his head. “Try not to cause any more trouble.” You nod and close the door behind him. 

There’s no worries that you’re going to make a run for it again. He’s sure whatever happened in those woods was scarring enough to make you want to go back to the city and never see country folk again. He wouldn’t blame you, there are some nasty people out here. Himself included, but he could never imagine hurting a woman like that. It just ain’t right. 

He heads to the shop across the street, buying some new clothes for you that actually fight properly. The horses are brought to the stables and he goes ahead and gets a paper for your mare under your name. Diablo will be faster tomorrow if he doesn’t have to carry the weight of two people. You might make it to your handler in time. 

Arthur still doesn’t feel right about this whole thing. Leaving you with a man you’ve never met feels even worse knowing what happened to you today. He doesn’t think you being so calm about it all is a good thing. Shouldn’t women react?

Dutch likes to tell him women are a more sensitive breed. He’s seen some tough ones in his life, but this seems like the time to be in hysterics if there ever was one. He heads back to the hotel, planning on just leaving the change of clothes in your room. 

He passes by the bath and hears an odd sound seeping through the cracks. Frowning, he presses his ear up against the door. A man passes by him, giving him a disgusted look as he goes into his room. Arthur sighs but he stays where he is. 

It’s clearer now, you’re crying and it’s hard to listen to. It's the type that makes it hard to breathe. That sort of crying makes your ribs ache and bruise. It’s wrong to keep listening to such a vulnerable moment. So, he does what he planned, drops the clothes in your room, and then heads to bed himself. 

Sleep comes easier than he thought it would. It’s not as restful as he’d been hoping but it draws over him faster than it normally does. He’s always been a light sleeper, though. It comes from years of having to be on guard in case some O’Driscoll is gonna try and slit his throat while he’s asleep. 

When he hears the door creak his hand is already on the trigger of his revolver as he shoots up in bed. The glow of the lamps outside illuminates what’s clearly a woman’s form. But he can’t see your face until you take a step further into the room and the moonlight provides some light. 

“Arthur?” You whisper his name, peering into his room. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” he grumbles. With a sigh, he shoves the gun back under his pillow and runs a rough hand over his face. “What'd ya want?”

You let out a low breath and rock back on your heels. “I’m sorry,” you mutter. “I just, I can’t sleep. I keep thinking he’s gonna creep out of my closet or bust through the door, I-”

You cut yourself off but he can hear the emotion thickening your voice. He clenches his eyes shut in irritation, arguing with himself over what he’s about to say. “You wanna sleep in here?” He mumbles reluctantly. 

You close the door immediately, practically running towards his bed. “You don’t mind?”

You’re not really giving him a choice, but he’s not going to say that to you. “No.” He grabs a pillow and blanket off the bed and rounds the end of the mattress. You frown as you watch him toss everything to the ground. 

“Well, what’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” He snaps, angrily gesturing towards the floor. “I’m givin’ you the bed.” 

You bite your lip and he feels horrible instantly because you look like you’re about to cry. He’s not trying to be rude but you woke him up in the dead of night. What’d you expect him to say?

“I was sort of hoping we could share the bed.”

His eyes widen and he glares at you in disbelief. “You mean-”

“No!” You cut him off with an aggrieved sigh. “You fool, that’s not what I mean at all. I just don’t want to be alone, alright?” 

“Look,” he scoffs and shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m the man you want to bunk with for company, alright. I’m not that kind of guy.” You glare at him and snatch his pillow and blanket off the floor. 

“Don’t be so damn stubborn.” You aggressively fluff the pillows, throwing the covers back and gesturing towards them, your brow set in anger. 

“Right,” he huffs, “I’m stubborn.” He reluctantly crawls into bed and you follow behind him. It’s not that he minds sharing a bed with a pretty lady. He’s just not the sort of guy you should be coming to for comfort. 

He doesn’t think he can provide whatever it is you need at this moment. But you seem to think otherwise as you inch towards him slowly. He lays on his back, arms under his head as he watches you out of the side of his eye. You think you’re being subtle, slowly moving into his side until you’re flush against him. 

He doesn’t say anything to object and you don’t bring up the proximity. He doesn’t want to admit it but it is nice having someone else beside him. He’s so used to camping out on his own. He hasn’t had anyone beside him in a long while. He lost interest in women of leisure a long while ago. And ever since Mary, he’s given up on any sort of intimacy. 

He hates to admit it, but he finds himself easing towards the warmth you provide. The second you feel him reciprocating you’re inching a tentative hand around his waist, cuddling closer to him. He recognizes it for what it is. 

He’s always been looked at as someone who can protect, at least by the gang. He’s their muscle. To most others, he incites nothing but fear. It should be the same for you. But after what happened today, you just see someone who can keep the monsters in the dark away. 

He doesn’t mind being used like this. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and waits until he feels you settle to ease into sleep again. 

Arthur figures you should both get breakfast in town while you’re here. He reasons you should enjoy a hot meal before you’re on the road again. You don’t point out that you know he’s just trying to ease you into the day. 

You appreciate it, honestly, but yesterday wasn’t your first run-in with men like that. It’s become incomprehensibly normal in day-to-day life, even for a city girl like yourself. You’d cried everything out in the bath once you’d scrubbed your skin raw. 

You don’t think Arthur will ever understand just how much his presence helped you last night. If you’d been on your own, jumping every time you heard the wood creaking outside, you’d have driven yourself over the edge. He protected you, even if there was nothing to be protected from. 

You don’t think he gives himself enough credit. Ignoring the situation you’re both in and what he’s taking you to do, he’s a good man. While the caliber of the men you’ve met is questionable at best, he’s one of the best ones you’ve ever known. At the end of the day, he disagrees with the whole situation, but he’s doing this for his family. That’s admirable in its own way. 

But, god, does he have poor conversational skills. “So, yesterday.” You glance up from your toast, brows raised in question. He clears his throat, eyes darting between you and his food like he can’t choose what to focus on. “That man, did he…”

He trails off and you feel your hackles rise. “Don’t worry,” you hiss, a bite to your words, “I’m still pure for my husband. Your pay won’t be docked, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His hand clenches around his fork and his eyes bore into yours, “That’s not what I meant,” he growls. “I wasn’t worried about that,” he snaps, “I was worried ‘bout you, woman.”

You take in a deep breath, actively biting your tongue from saying something spiteful. He wasn’t being rude, that’s just what you’re used to. “I’m sorry,” you concede lowly. “Nothing happened,” you repeat without the attitude. 

“Well,” he huffs and goes back to his breakfast, “good,” he settles on dully. 

“Good,” you agree quietly, pushing the rest of your food around. You find your appetite dulled and you push the plate away. You lean back in the booth and stare out the window. The horses seem to be getting on well enough. “Did you name her?”

Arthur gives you an odd look and you nod towards the mare hitched next to Diablo. He swallows the food he’d been chewing and takes a swig of his coffee. “No, figured you’d want to do it.”

Your brows furrow and your lips quirk in confusion. “Why?”

“She’s yours, ain’t she?” He grouses. 

You shake your head, “Nope,” you tell him, popping the p. “I just took her so I’d have something to get me to town.”

“Yeah, well,” he sounds less sure of himself and he’s looking like he made a mistake. “I thought she’d be nice for you to have with you in the city. A way for you to get around without relyin’ on someone else.”

You can’t help but smile, something in your chest easing away at the kind gesture. “I appreciate it,” he lights up a little at your approval, but you crush it in an instant. “But I can’t keep her, I won’t be allowed to. I’ve tried to have my own horse before, hard to control something that can get away from you,” you tell him blankly. There’s no emotion in your voice because it’s something you’re used to. 

He looks slightly horrified at how blunt you are. He can’t comprehend not having that freedom but he fails to recognize that he’s got a leash of his own. You doubt a man like Dutch would ever let his main asset just run off to wherever he wants to. 

A few people walk into the saloon, the women giving you odd looks when they see the pants on your legs. You smile cheekily at them, reveling in what you know will be a short-lived experience. You’ve never been on the receiving end of a judgmental look like that. 

You’ve always blended in. Been the perfect wallflower for the men in your life. You were never something to gawk at or cause trouble. It’s a relief to stick out for once, to break the mould for the first time in your life. 

Arthur clocks the interaction and chuckles. “Missin’ the skirts yet?”

“Not one damn bit,” you tell him, smiling as you take a sip of your coffee. “I’m going to miss being able to run around without having to lug an extra four pounds of fabric behind me.” 

“Ya know, you could just wear some pants, you’ve got a choice.”

You grin patronizingly at him, propping your head on your chin and watching him finish the rest of his breakfast. “You don’t know city men very well, do you?”

“Glad for it,” he grumbles, distaste clear in his tone.

A laugh breaks through your chest, the first real one in a while. “I’m going to be marrying one, Arthur. I won’t have a choice in much of anything anymore.” You can tell he wants to object, tell you there’s always a choice. 

He’ll never truly understand what’s going to happen to you, though. You’re no longer human once you’re married. You’re cattle and property, meant to be bred and shown off. You accepted your fate a long while ago. And after you’re failed escape attempt, you’ve realized this is what you were always meant to be. There’s no point in fighting fate. 

“Don’t apologize or argue,” you tell him, no spite or bitterness in your tone, just the honest truth. “I don’t mind anymore, really. What place is there for me in this world, anyway? I can’t exactly take care of myself.”

“You did a damn good job yesterday,” he snaps back quickly. He doesn’t seem too keen on the way you’re talking about yourself. But you’re not lying. Yesterday was a wake-up call. If you let yourself get screwed over by a hillbilly that quickly then how were you ever going to make it on your own? In your defense, you were raised to be dependent, you never had a chance. 

“Sure, but that was a one-off incident. I’m not going to run again, Arthur. There’s no point. And there’s no point in fighting against the way things are, they’re never going to change for me.” You take in a deep breath, the easy mood ruined by your sincerity. 

“I’m just gonna wait by the horses.”

You slide out of the booth, leaving Arthur to stare pensively at his plate. You’ve nearly slipped through the door when Arthur calls out, “You should name her.” You pause at the doorway, glancing back at him. He’s settling the bill at the front and you walk back out to the horses. 

The mare picks her head up as you walk towards her, ears perked and tail flicking. “Hey, girl,” you run a hand over her muzzle, admiring the sleek silver of her coat. “I guess I should name you.”

You run a hand over her mane and swing yourself onto the saddle. “How ‘bout Bullet, it’s how I got you, anyway.” A dark joke, but it eases the macabre feeling hanging around you. 

Arthur walks out of the saloon, tucking his money away into his bag. He lifts himself onto Diablo, glancing over at you with a knowing glint. 

“Name her?”

You resent how smug he sounds. “Bullet,” you answer reluctantly. 

“Bullet?” He questions, tone incredulous. 

You grin at him, “It’s how I got her.” There’s a slightly stunned expression on his face before it slacks away into something more amused. 

He shakes his head and nudges Diablo forward, Bullet follows alongside him eagerly. “Clever,” he mutters.

“Not really,” you snort, running a hand over her neck lovingly. “But I think it works for her.”

“Your husband’s gonna have his hands full with you,” you know he means it in jest. The lightness of the conversation turns into something heavier. Realization sinks over both of you and the smiles slowly drop away. “I-”

“How much further to Strawberry, anyway?” You effectively cut off whatever train of thought he was going to follow, distracting you both from the truth. 

“Half a day,” he tells you, frowning when you refuse to meet his eye again. Half a day. That’s all you’ve got to enjoy the last bits of freedom you have. You’re gonna take your damn time getting there, that’s for sure. 

You slow down from the steady trot Arthur had led the horses into, easing Bullet into a slow walk. You’re slowly getting the hang of riding a horse. It’s easy when she’s so intuitive. By god, though, your ass is sore. 

Arthur shoots you a questioning glance at the slow pace and you shrug. “Might as well take the time I’ve got left.”

“You’re actin’ like you’re on death row,” he chuckles. 

“Aren’t I?” He falls silent and you don’t know what’s bothering him but you don’t have the energy to inquire. 

He’s slowing you down on purpose, he knows it and you know it. Neither of you says a damn thing about it but it’s bugging him. He shouldn’t be this bothered by a job. He knows how to separate himself from what he does. He just can’t this time. 

There’s something about you that glows. You’re sitting beside him on the peak of a hill, overlooking the roads below you, and laughing as you make up stories for the people that pass by. It’s a far cry from the beaten-down woman he’d seen at Crane’s house. 

Even after what happened yesterday, you somehow manage to seem happier. There’s nothing about it that makes him happy. This feels like the last goodbye of someone who knows they’re going soon. The last bout of happiness before they just give in. 

You’re not gaining your spark back, you’re just giving in to what you think is inevitable. But it doesn’t have to be inevitable. You could fight back you just refuse to. He’s sure growing up the way you have, you don’t think it's possible to stand up for yourself. 

But you don’t have to give in like this. You don’t have to roll over and let someone else dictate your life. Which is rich, coming from him. He’s practically Dutch’s lap dog now. Even when he disagrees he still follows along behind him. 

He shouldn’t even be thinking like this. He can’t criticize you for not standing up for yourself when he’s the one thing standing between you and freedom. “Not hungry?” You nod towards the uneaten meat on his knife. 

He shakes his head, plucking it off the blade and passing it to you. You give him an odd look before popping it in your mouth. “Ya know,” you mutter around a full mouth. You take a moment to swallow it down before smiling over at him. “I’ve grown up with private chefs my whole life, but there’s is something infinitely more satisfying about this.”

He takes his hat off, running a hand through his hair. He snorts at your comment, “I find that hard to believe.”

“No,” you shake your head, insistent, “I mean it. Being out here, hunting the game myself, I don’t know, it’s nice.” You shrug and lean back on your hands, gazing across the way at the trees and river. 

“You can always get a bow and go hunting.” He speaks to you like it's a cut-and-dry truth that you’re just not accepting. Your face screws up and you give him an annoyed glare. 

“No. I can’t,” you tell him again. Where your words were patient before, he can tell you’re growing irritated at how much he’s pushing this.

“Yes, you can,” he snaps. “You don’t have to keep yourself boxed up in some manor in the city. Get out, woman, do something with your life!” His voice echoes through the air and you flinch back from it, lips pulling down into a sneer. 

“You know, that’s really easy for you to say, Arthur. You have a goddamn choice. Sure, I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, little miss rich girl crying about being pampered.”

He lets out a rough sigh, “That’s not what I meant-”

You cut him off, getting to your feet and glaring down at him. “You got to grow up with a choice. What to do with your body, your life, your career. You get to have an education if you want it. Every goddamn door is open to you. You don’t get hated for not wanting to have a family. You get to choose. And as much as you insist I can too, you will never understand the position I am in.”

You kick dirt over the fire and head back towards Bullet. “It’s a double-edged sword, Arthur. Sure, my life might be comfortable, but it’s never really gonna be my life.” He stays there on the ground, too stunned to get up. 

You glare down at him, impatiently waiting for him to get a move on. This isn’t how he wants things to end. He doesn’t want you to go off thinking he’s just some ignorant fool. But he is, much as he denies it, he’s always been a fool. 

He should never have thought he could make a difference in your life. Not when he’s the one backing you into this corner. He could have helped you escape the very first night he saw you. But he was too selfish to let you go, now you’re both paying for it. 

He mounts Diablo and you both head back to the roads silently. You’re moving faster now, leaving him behind if he lingers in one area for too long. You’re too pissed off to enjoy the rest of your day and he hates that he ruined it for you. You, at the very least, deserved a slower journey towards your future. 

You’re in Strawberry before he’s ready, he’s sure you aren’t. “Hey, we could-”

“I think that’s him.” You cut him off before he says something stupid like spend another night in town before you go. He’ll miss you, he thinks. Odd, he’s known you such a short time but it’s been so different having someone beside him as he rides. It was nice, what he wished he and Mary could have had. 

Arthur follows your gaze and lets out a tired sigh. Sure enough, some prim and proper ass is standing in front of the ticket station, foot tapping impatiently. He’s got a large bag beside him, gaze wandering around expectantly. He doesn’t doubt the man who looks like he’s got a five-foot stick up his ass is Mr. Crane’s associate. He’s got the same slimy glint.

You slide off Bullet and Arthur follows suit, taking the reigns of both horses and leading them towards the platform. The man’s eyes narrow in on you before lighting up. He calls out your name and it’s like a mask being dropped over your face. 

The spark is gone once more, a subdued and demure smile resting on your face as you wave at him. “I apologize for my dress,” you tell him as you walk up the steps. “Pants were more conducive to such a long ride.”

He takes your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles that makes Arthur roll his eyes. “No apologies necessary, I brought you a change of clothes. I figured you would be less than put together after such a journey. I’m only sorry I couldn’t accompany you.”

You scoff and nod along, “Okay,” you mutter, not believing a word of his bullshit. You take the bag from him and move towards the saloon to find a room to change in. They both watch you leave, though the other man with a much more devious glint in his eye. 

Arthur’s hands tighten on the reigns of the horses, anything to keep him from reaching for his revolver. He’s already getting a bad feeling about this. There’s nothing trustworthy about the man in front of him. 

“Mr. Finch,” he holds out his hand and Arthur gives it a distrusting look before reluctantly shaking. Finch attempts to squeeze the life out of his hand but Arthur can barely feel it. He tightens his own grip and revels in the way Finch’s face blanches. 

“Arthur Morgan.”

Mr. Finch looks him up and down in the same way Crane had. He sees a commodity, not a person. “I trust,” he drawls, “nothing unsavory happened.”

Arthur feels rage bubbling in his gut. The only damn thing he cares about is whether or not you’re “pure.” Not if you were okay or injured during the journey. If he told him that he’d punched you out for talking back Finch would just ask if you were bruised. 

“She’s fine,” Arthur grits out. 

“Oh, good, good. Glad everything went smoothly.” Finch has a way of talking he’s found most self-important men do. He draws everything he says out, and forces you to listen to him speak. Makes you pay attention so he can pretend he has power for a moment. 

His gaze darts behind Arthur and he turns just in time to see you slipping out of the saloon. The dress Finch has provided you is ridiculously large. It poofs out at the waist in a way that makes Arthur wonder how you’re going to fit into your seat. 

You look beyond uncomfortable. Grimacing as you join them again. You try and plaster a smile on but it’s a struggle. You look to Arthur, a finality on your face that makes him want to throw you over his shoulder and run. He’s doing this for the others, he reminds himself. They’ll be on a boat to Tahiti in a week. 

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan, for everything.” The smile you leave him with is real, if just barely. Something lurks under your words that Mr. Finch will never understand and Arthur knows it will drive him crazy. 

“Let’s go,” Finch grabs your hand, looping it through his arm and tugging you towards the doors of the station. 

“Wait!” Arthur calls out, feeling foolish when you both look back at him with perplexed expressions. “You’ll be wanting Bullet, won’t you?”

Mr. Finch answers for you with a condescending tone, “She won’t be needing a horse, thank you.” You give him a knowing smile, turning away and slipping through the doors of the station and onto the train. 

Arthur stays rooted where he is, something crawling up in his chest and rooting around restlessly. The whistle blows and the wheels start cranking slowly forward. Arthur just barely catches a glimpse of you through a window as the train chugs past. 

“Shit!” He hisses. He tugs himself up onto Diablo’s saddle and urges him after the train. He was born a fool, he’s always going to be a damn fool. But he’d have to be a complete moron to just let you go. 

Mr. Finch keeps a painfully tight grip on your elbow, jerking you through the passenger cars and practically throwing you into your seat. You land with a thud, your arm bouncing against the window painfully. You keep a stoic expression, trying not to let him break you so soon. 

He takes a seat beside you, straightening out his jacket and tugging on his tie. Something white flashes in his jacket pocket and you lean forward, perplexed when you realize what it is. “What is that?” You question, not quite believing your eyes. Finch glances down at the thick wad of cash in his jacket and grins. 

“Oh, this? Mr. Morgan must have forgotten to collect the rest of his payment.” He sends you a condescending smile and you flinch away in disgust. “He was too enamored with my fiancee to pay much attention, I’m afraid.”

“That’s his money,” you snap, the volume of your voice catching the attention of a few other passengers. Finch sends them apologetic smiles, making you seem like a mad woman. “He earned that!” You object, eyeing the money warily. 

His hand snakes out, gripping you tightly around the arm and dragging you towards him until your noses are nearly touching. You nearly gag at the smell of his cigar-infused breath. It’s not like when Arthur would smoke one, you didn’t mind that. But this was making you sick to your stomach. 

“Let's get a few things clear, I will not be dealing with an obstinate wife. You can either get yourself in order or I’ll do it for you.”

Your lips pull back in disgust and you jerk yourself out of his grip. He’s not as strong as he pretends to be and you’re not going to be scared into submission again. “I’m not your wife yet. My father still has time to pay.”

He laughs at you, spittle flying from your lips and sprinkling across your cheeks. “He has time to pay, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be getting you back, sweetheart.” Your eyes widen with the realization and you want to throw yourself off the side of the train. 

You never had any chance to get out of this situation. Mr. Crane was always in control of it all. To even think of having a hope of getting back home was foolish. To believe for a second that you were going to escape this had been utter idiocy. 

He sees the crestfallen expression and sinks into his seat with a satisfactory look on his face. He thinks you to be subdued. But now you’re nothing more than a cornered animal with no other choice of escape. You’ve got nothing left for you, nothing to hold onto. 

As much as you’d thought you’d bonded with Arthur, you were still nothing more than a job to him. You were nothing more than a commodity to be traded between men. You would never have a say over your life. 

You have nothing, you doubt you ever actually had anything left for you. You glance over at the man beside you and feel a cool dread blanket itself over you. Nothing left to lose. 

There’s a solid weight tucked into the bodice of your dress. Its cool metal has been warmed by your skin. Its handle curves around your ribs and it only has one bullet left. You reach down the front of your dress, fingers curling around the revolver you’d stolen from a dead man. 

Finch glowers at your inappropriate behavior “What are-” You pull the gun out, turning it on him. He jumps back in shock and throws his hands in the air on instinct. “Please-” you revel in his pathetic pleading only for a moment. Pulling the trigger a second time is surprisingly easy. The screams that ring out through the train car are less enjoyable. “Shit!” He cusses, hands coming up to try and staunch the flow of blood pouring from his stomach. 

You slip your hand into his blazer, stealing the money before he can object. You run out of the passenger car, leaping to the flat car with all the cargo. It will take a few minutes for them to catch onto what happened and figure out where you went. 

You don’t know what you’re going to do now. You’re stuck on a moving train, there’s nowhere for you to hide. You hadn’t thought when you’d shot him, you just wanted that smug look on his face to disappear. 

“Where is she?” You hear the guards shouting out your name, flipping over crates to find you. They’re still at the front of the train, but you don’t have long until they start moving back here. 

God, what have you done?

You just know, if you made it to that train station, you were never going to make it out. His men would be waiting there to transport you. You’d be watched every second of your life, you can’t do it again. You can’t be locked in a gilded cage, that’s not a life worth living. 

There’s no escape for you. Nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. You glance over the left side of the train. There’s a slight dip into a deep ravine. The crashing water looks almost peaceful from up here. 

You don’t know if it would be a quick death but you know it would be merciful compared to what’s waiting for you at your last stop. You keep your eyes on the water, see yourself taking control of your life for the first time, and take a step up on the rail. 

Someone shouts your name from the right side of the train and you gasp, arms circling wildly as you almost go toppling over the edge. They shout your name again, panic laced in the tone. This doesn’t sound like Finch or any of the other guards. You whip around and find Arthur riding his horse beside the train. 

“What the hell are you doing, woman?” 

Your brows furrow in confusion and your eyes dart between him and the ravine. “Jumping! What the hell are you doing?”

His gaze narrows and he shouts to be heard over the rumble of the train tracks. “Stopping you from being a goddamn fool. Get over here!” You hear the guards getting closer as they storm down the rest of the train. 

You don’t have long to make a decision, you can already see his horse struggling to keep up with the speed of the train. There’s a bridge coming up in a moment, he won’t be able to go any further and they won’t be able to come after you. 

It’s a split-second decision, one that has you pushing off the railing of the car and rushing towards him. You don’t have time to doubt yourself or plan this out further, you take a running leap off the train, towards his outstretched arms. 

He barely catches you in time, jerking on the reigns of the horse and bringing him to a sudden stop before all three of you go tumbling into the water. Shots fire off on the train, but they’re gone before they can do any real damage. 

Your chest heaves as you dangle from his arms, fingers digging into his shirt desperately. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest that you almost can’t hear what he’s saying, but you get the gist of it. 

“The hell were you thinking? Trying to jump off the damn train! You’re a fool, woman.” He tugs you onto the saddle the rest of the way. As much as he tries to sound angry you can feel his relief in the way he squeezes you close to him. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, head sinking into his neck and breathing in the familiar scent. 

He sighs, struggling between yelling at you more and just enjoying the fact that he got to you before you did something neither of you could recover from. “You’re welcome, just,” he pauses, holding you a little closer, “don’t be so damn stupid again.”

You laugh and it’s a little wet as tears start to pool in your eyes. “I’m not planning on it.” You sit up, easing away from him and glancing over your shoulder. You watch as the train grows smaller until you can only see a plume of smoke and nothing more. “What the hell are we going to do?”

He sighs and turns the horse around. You maneuver yourself around, facing forward and pushing back against him.  “I don’t know. Dutch ain’t gonna be happy about you comin’ back with me.” 

You bite your lip, a hundred different possibilities swirling through your head. You’ve never been able to make a choice before, faced with it, you’re overwhelmed with options. You can’t pick one so you blurt out the first coherent thought you have. 

“What if we don’t go back?”

Arthur stills behind you, “What?” His tone is low and filled with something you know means he’s ready to say no. 

“Just for a little while,” you rush the words out quickly, trying to fight for a chance to get him to listen. “We can send this to the camp,” you tug out the wad of cash you’d stolen from Finch and Arthur barks out a laugh. You feel his chest tremble behind you and it makes you grin. 

“Did you steal his money?”

“Your money, technically,” you correct, grinning over your shoulder at him. “Besides, he doesn’t need it anymore.” He gives you a concerned look but you just wave him off. “We can send the camp some money and go off on our own for a while.”

“I don’t know, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupt, glaring at him. “It’ll only be for a little while, Arthur. Come on, I’m free for the first time in my life, enjoy it with me.”

He looks uncertain and you know it’s an odd notion to him, putting himself first instead of the camp or Dutch. You’re sure he’s never done it before. Breaking away from them instead of going about like the loyal soldier he is. 

“Just a little while?”

You nod, turning just enough to tuck the money in his pocket. “Just a little while,” you swear.

“John Marston!” You frown, turning away from the oven and glancing out the window. Arthur’s grinning by the gates of the horse pen, leaping over the wood, and walking out to greet someone. You abandon the stew, heading towards the door of your home. 

Outside are two horses, one with a woman and her son, and an abandoned one. The owner is currently bringing Arthur into a brief embrace, John, you presume. Arthur’s told you about him a bit. They weren’t always close but it was getting better before Arthur went away. 

Sometimes you feel bad, having dragged him away from everything he was familiar with. You meant it when you said you only wanted to be gone for a little while. You knew if you went back immediately there would be hell to pay with Dutch and you’d both be put to work. 

You’d be going from one owner to another. All you’d wanted was a few weeks on the road on your own. But a few weeks turned into six months and then a year, and it was Arthur telling you he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t stand what the gang was turning into. What Dutch was turning into. All you’d given him was an excuse to finally get out before it all blew up.

You walk down the steps of the home Arthur built, wiping your hands off on your apron. You give a brief wave to the woman you assume is Abigail. She waves back, slipping off the horse and helping Jack down. 

Arthur pulls away from John, turning towards you and motioning you forward. John gives you an apprehensive look. “Do I know you?”

Arthur gives him your name, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in closer. “That job Dutch got from Crane.” John’s face lights up with recognition and he smirks. 

“I see,” he shakes his head and gives Arthur a knowing look. “It’s always a woman with you, isn’t it?” You snort at how aggrieved Arthur looks. “Well,” John turns towards you and smiles, “nice to finally meet the woman that got him under control.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you smile lightly at him, pulling away from Arthur. “Are you going to be joining us for dinner?”

“No, he’s not,” Arthur answers at the same time John says, “I would love to.”

Arthur and John share a look you can’t understand. You glance past John and wave Abigail forward, “Come in, please. I’d enjoy the company.”

“Forgive my obstinate husband, he tends to linger where he ain’t wanted.” She brushes past him and you lead her inside your home. Leaving Arthur and John to bicker outside. Jack stays outside, smiling up at Arthur. You know he’s missed the boy, you’re sure he’s okay entertaining them for one night. 

Abigail helps you set the table while Arthur and John catch up over a bottle of whiskey. Arthur tried to pull out a cigar but you’d shut that down quick. He’d had a cough a little while ago and the doctor advised cutting down on tobacco if he wanted it to go away. You know it’s hard but you’re cracking down on how much he smokes. 

“We got the money you sent,” John’s telling Arthur as they come over to join you all at the table. Jack eagerly hops into the seat beside Arthur before you can snag it and you grin. “Dutch blew it all and wouldn’t tell us on what. He kept saying we still needed another score.”

John shakes his head and the distant look in his eyes makes your stomach churn. “You’re a lucky bastard you got out when you did, Arthur, truly.”

“Hosea?” Arthur questions and you grimace at the look on John’s face. You can see Arthur deflate as John shakes his head. 

“There was a bank robbery, Molly told the Pinkertons we were going to be there, he didn’t make it.”

Arthur’s hand clenches around the fork and you wish you could say something that would make him realize it’s not his fault. “I should have been there,” he mutters. 

“Wouldn’t have done anything, man. Hosea had given up in the end. We all had. It was so damn divided, the family was gone.”

“Still.” Arthur insists, glaring down at his plate like it had offended him. 

“No,” to your surprise it’s Abigail that snaps. “Dutch was gone and that bastard Micah just kept pushing him over the edge. The only thing you would have done is get yourself killed. You’re damn lucky Arthur Morgan.”

You’re sure he’ll still blame himself later. Reason a hundred times over that had he been there something would have been different. Even if it was him on the other end of the gun he’d be happier knowing someone else hadn’t died when it could have been him. You couldn’t stand that these self-sacrificing ideals Dutch had drilled into him were still present. 

But you know Abigail and John help ease the guilt slightly. It’s on Arthur to let it go entirely, though you doubt that will happen anytime soon. John picks up on the change in mood, he’s reluctant to let the night sour so soon. 

He turns towards you with a look that makes you feel like you need to prepare for trouble. “So you did all that to escape getting married. And then you marry this moron?” He motions towards Arthur and you can’t help but laugh. 

“John!” Abigail snaps but he only smiles at her. You can see the way she fights the twitch of her lips and it makes you smile in turn. 

You correct him, “We’re not technically married-”

“Might as well be,” Arthur argues, glaring at John. You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours and gently squeezing. You can’t help but laugh at him. 

“Yeah, we might as well be,” you agree. “But it was never about not wanting to be a wife. I just wanted to have a damn choice. That’s what I got out here. I can hunt or cook. Sew or go out and make some money. And it’s a lot nicer being a wife out in the country than it is in the city, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Here’s hoping,” Abigail mutters. She glances towards Arthur, “That’s why we’re out here. We got word from a few people that you might be lurking around here. John’s thinking of getting a house, really settling down.”

Arthur sighs, leaning back in his chair and glaring at John. “That’s why you’re here? You want a handout,” he accuses. 

“No!” John snaps. “Dammit, Arthur, why you always gotta assume the worst of me?”

“Because it’s usually true,” Arthur mutters. “If that’s not what you want then what is it?”

John purses his lips and lets out a spluttering breath. “A loan,” he lands on, struggling to find the right word. 

Arthur barks out a laugh, slapping his hand on the table and poking a knowing finger into John’s chest. “I knew it!”

John swats his hand away and glares. “Look, Morgan, I only need a little. Just to buy some animals, get started on the house.”

“What’d ya want Marston, my whole damn house?”

Abigail lands a gentle hand on your arm and nods to the porch. “They’ll be at it for a while.” You nod and leave the table, following her to the swing out back. She settles down on it with a sigh, gazing out at the trees that line your home. 

“You’ve got a nice life out here.”

You smile fondly, “I like to think so. We’re thinking about getting a few cows, maybe starting a proper ranch.”

Her face lights up at the idea and she laughs. “That’s what John wants. It’s unbelievable how similar they are, they’re too thick-headed to see it.”

You can still vaguely hear them bickering inside the house. You peer inside and see Jack sitting at the table, watching them both with an entranced expression. You can’t help but grin at the look on Arthur’s face. He’s laying into John but he looks happier than you’ve seen him in a while. 

You know he’s missing everybody, has been for a long time. Maybe if Abigail and John are close by he’ll have that sense of familiarity again. “The others,” you start, turning back to Abigail. “Charles and Sadie, what happened to everyone else?”

“A few of them are living good lives, some of them aren’t. Most of them are drifting, not ready to give up the outlaw life just yet.”

“It’s hard to watch the world change while you’re still stuck in the same spot.” You brush some hair out of your eyes and smile at Abigail. “Me and Arthur are gonna help you and John. But I’d like it if you were both close by. It would be nice to have someone familiar near us, we’re pretty lonely up here.”

She gives you a brief smile back, “I think that would be nice.”

John’s voice picks up from inside and you jump, “Oh that’s a load of bull-”

Abigail’s smile drops and she leans over your shoulder to shout, “Watch it!” at John. You laugh when you see the perturbed look on his face. She motions towards his son and Arthur gives John a smug look. 

“You gonna help him?” You ask Arthur as you settle into bed later. He opens his arms, pulling you into his embrace once you’re settled under the covers. 

“John?” You nod, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, ‘course I’m gonna help him. But there’s nothing wrong with jerking him around a little bit first.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, tucking yourself under his chin. You almost think he’s asleep but then he’s speaking up again. “We should really do it.”

You pull back, brows furrowed in confusion. “Do what?”

There’s a certain look in his eyes that causes something to swirl in your stomach. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, just an excited one, “Get married.”

You give him a bewildered look, shaking your head in disbelief. Nearly five years you’ve both been living out here and he’s never once mentioned getting married. You never thought you two actually needed it. You always knew what you were to each other, how much you meant to one another. 

You were each other’s salvation. There’s no telling what graves you would be laying in were it not for Dutch bringing you both together. You hadn’t thought he wanted to be married, he always told you he’d given those dreams up. “You really mean that?”

He shrugs like it’s the easiest decision in the world. “Might as well, right?” 

You shake your head, but there’s no fighting the way your lips curl up. “You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan.”

He nods, dipping his head down to press a gentle kiss on your temple. He treats you so gently, it makes you want to cry. But then he goes and says something ridiculous like, “Yeah, a fool for you,” and he makes you laugh. 

You tug him down, lips nearly touching his. “Yes,” you whisper, “I’ll marry you.” You were always scared of living a life like this. Being tied to one man for the rest of your time on earth. But he’s not some city man looking to make you into a pet. He lets you live, breathe, and be free. He’s a partner not a warden and that’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

[violets-emotionalbreakdown]

Something important for us all to remember is that we've had 3 years to make these characters our own, to internalize them. Fanon is not canon. My Vi is not your Vi is not my mutual's Vi. My Caitlyn is not your Caitlyn. My Jinx is not your Jinx.

We've had 3 years for them to grow and change, to identify with them and project on them, to mold them into what we need them to be.

We've had 3 years with an amazing starting point where we could veer off in so many different directions, not constrained by knowing what comes next.

We're about to know what comes next. All those possibilities, those dreams for what we wanted, are going to be unequivocally canon divergent (except for every fic writer who called Vi being a street/pit fighter, they get to be smug as hell).

There is only one canon.

I've fallen prey to this before, where after a long gap and making a character mine, she didn't react in the new canon to things like my version of her would have. That's ok. It doesn't make it bad storytelling on the actual writer's part. That doesn't make it out of character.

You get me? It doesn't make it bad or ooc if the characters in the new season aren't the way you predicted or want them to be. You will have time afterward to incorporate the new information, possibly re-evaluate your view of them, and make them your own again. (For good this time, bc it's the last season.)

So just watch and let things play out and let them settle before you get upset, ok?