#it's why i have to force myself to log off every once in a while

[agnesmontague]

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[emikotatsuya]

Sensation's Rewrite Prologue

I decided to post the finished rewrite for the prologue here on Tumblr just so people can get a feel for some of the additions and for some new readers to hopefully look forward to when I'm done rewriting Sensation. Anyway, I hope you lovely readers enjoy it!

Regarding human nature, morality is questioned in almost every decision they make. To survive in this world, they make so many drastically different choices that humans like to put into the vague terms of Good and Evil. Humans are also hypocritical creatures, acting on their selfish desires and beliefs. One person will choose and be seen as a good person, while someone else will make the same decision and somehow be seen as the bad guy. The lines are blurred so often that there never seems to be an actual line between those opposing sides. It's easier to call it a gray area, but only some people are satisfied with just that. Humans need constant reassurance that they are making the right choices. That they're the protagonists of their own story, and any minor inconvenience is the antagonist.

In the depths of a hidden world, behind the general public, those lines are more thought out and clearly stated. Forces beyond normal human comprehension exist and sometimes threaten their lives without them ever knowing. All because they don't harbor the necessary eyes to see it. Behind the scenes, the more or less good guys are Jujutsu Sorcerers. Those men and women have been born with the ability to see cursed spirits and can harness the cursed energy those spirits are made of to defend humanity from them. 

As for the bad guys, it is easy to say that cursed spirits are the set-in-stone villains. They are primarily mindless beings that move on instinct. However, some have become more powerful and evolved to be able to think and even talk in some cases. They may even gain a humanoid form if lucky, usually only present in powerful cursed spirits. That said, it goes without saying that Jujutsu Sorcerers are not all harbingers of goodwill. Having powers no average human has can quickly go to the head. Even though this happens, you never see a cursed spirit trying to be a good Samaritan. Right?

I thought about what it would be like if that wasn't the case as I walked down the dirt path deep within the woods outside of town and headed to the tiny log cabin I called my home. Almost two decades ago, I opened my eyes for the first time. Born from nothing but the forest's foreboding, I took my first steps. I had wandered the forest aimlessly for days without knowing why I existed. The first few months after my alleged 'birth', I ran into my first cursed spirit. 

It was small and looked more like a ball of flesh than anything else. When it had noticed me, it had coward away. Sensing something that I could not perceive myself at the time. Something compelled me to believe that somehow, we were the same species, or at least made of the same thing. Though, of course, at the time, I had no idea what a cursed spirit was or how they were made. It didn't take long for my curiosity to turn into panic once the cursed spirit realized I wasn't a threat and somehow bit my hand clean off. I don't remember what happened next, but when I came to, the curse was nowhere to be seen, and my hand was somehow back. After that, I made a conscious effort to stay away from cursed spirits. I was scared I was going to get attacked again.

About a month later, I finally found my way to town outside the forest. That was when I discovered what humans were. I didn't go down immediately, scared they would harm me like the curse did. I watched the humans go about their lives from the cover of the forest's darkness. For a bit, that was enough. 

I was simply content on watching. Humans were so fascinating; they were of different shapes and sizes with similar forms. They were social creatures, I learned soon enough, and eventually, I longed to be down there with them. One day, I noticed a cursed spirit had wandered from the forest and crawled down to the town. That was when I first learned of the basic instinct of cursed spirits to prey on humans. 

I desperately wanted to go down there and help, warn them of the dangers, but my fears had held me back. However, I didn't have to in the end, as a jujutsu sorcerer had been notified of the attack and had come swiftly to deal with the problem. They didn't sense me by some miracle, but I saw firsthand how strong they could be and how they killed cursed spirits without hesitation. I remember being scared to death at the thought of returning to the forest's edge after that, wondering If I would be the next one for the slaughter. Eventually, I gathered some courage and resumed my people-watching.

One day, by mere accident, I somehow changed my form. I barely noticed the change, but my eye level was lower than usual. I was suddenly shorter than I was initially. While wandering around the forest and eventually finding a river near where I live now, I was shocked to see a human face staring back at me. As embarrassing as it was, I thought a human was trapped under the water, unable to fathom that I could ever look like that. 

However, after my initial panic to rescue said human, I realized that it was actually me that I was staring at. I remember a wave of relief washing over me to finally not see the monstrous face I had grown used to seeing in my reflection. Since that day, I never changed back. I traveled down to the town below that day with my new form. I had apparently taken the form of a five-year-old child, so the adults who had first noticed me freaked out when they saw me. I was caked with dirt, my hair was matted, and I was naked. Clothes, sadly, did not come with the transformation, though at the time, I didn't know the importance of clothes.

Before I knew it, one of the townspeople rushed me to their home and threw me into a warm bath. Scrubbing away all the dirt and grime before almost tearing my hair as they brushed the knots out. They had bombarded me with many questions, all worried for my well-being. It was overwhelming. Now that I think back on it, they probably thought I was abused and had been abandoned in the forest to die. After all, no 'child' looks like that if they came from a loving family.

However, at the time, I couldn't answer them even if I had wanted to. I didn't know how to speak or dress myself. I remember the look on an elderly woman's face when she noticed how confused I looked when she had given me a tiny dress that one of the other townsfolk had run out and bought for me. Her look of pure sadness at the realization that I didn't even know how to put clothes on will forever be ingrained in my memory. The townsfolk there at the time had spent a good few hours trying to get clothes onto me. 

I had apparently struggled and squirmed so much that they had to hold me down just to put the dress on. When they were done, I finally looked like an ordinary little girl. After everything slowly settled down, the townsfolk decided what to do with me. Some tried to find my parents, though that was arduous since I didn't have any. They tried to take me in at some point, but I ran back into the forest. After all, that day was the first time I interacted with humans, and it was too much too soon.

The next day, after calming down, I returned to the town. The townsfolk had been worried and kept watch at the forest's edge. Only a few wanted to search for me in the forest because it was considered haunted. I wasn't surprised because of the number of Cursed Spirits born in it. That was when I met my Papa, a young man who had heard of what had happened and was the first person on the scene when I was spotted the next day. 

He had asked me if I wanted to live with him, but the thought of him or anyone finding out about what I was, or another Jujutsu Sorcerer coming by, had ended in me, no matter how tempting the offer had been, outright refusing him. Even if it wasn't a dangerous offer, the forest had become my home, and I couldn't bear to leave it after all this time. After some discussion, they eventually decided I would join Elementary school. Before I could join, however, they had to set up a place for me to stay. So, some builders from the village ended up renovating an old abandoned cabin in the woods. 

For the first year, one of the school teachers would walk up to the cabin and walk me all the way down to the elementary school. I would have dinner with the young man, who would walk me back to the cabin. The other kids in my grade had thought I was weird since I didn't talk, and eventually, a rumor circulated that I was an orphan. I didn't make any friends because of it. Over that first year, my form slowly changed, aging as if I were a human; after that year, I finally learned how to talk and, eventually, how to read and write. However, I had a terrible stutter whenever I did talk, as my vocal cords were not used to it.

About a month after I could talk a sentence, the young man brought something up during dinner one night. "So, what's your name, little one?" I looked up from my food to look up at him curiously. "M-m-my n-name?" I barely managed out. Ms and Ns at the start of words were the hardest to pronounce for me. "Yes, your name. A good little girl like you must have a wonderful name." I lowered my head to look back at the food, my hand tightening around the fork. "I don't have a n-name." Not long after I had said that the young man dropped his glass, causing it to shatter on the floor below; the noise made me flinch with how loud it was. "They didn't even give you a name?" 

I knew he meant to whisper it, but his emotions got the better of him. It confused me; why was he so angry? Had I done something wrong? "I-I'm sorry." His head snapped back at me, and he quickly threw his hands up. "No, no! It isn't your fault. It will never be your fault. It's just.." He trailed off. "I'll tell you when you're older; let me clean this up, okay? You continue eating your food," I nodded softly as I ate. The young man was hunched over on the floor, cleaning up the shards of glass and the water that had spilled everywhere. 

Once our plates had been emptied of food, I sat on one of the stools on the island in the kitchen while he washed the dishes. "So," He started. "Would you like me to give you a name?" My head perked up at that. A name? My own name? I couldn't help but shyly nod, giddy at the idea of receiving a name. He chuckled at my reaction and thoughtfully held his chin in his hands. "Hmm, I think I'll call you (Y/n), and for your last name, why not mine? From now on, you'll be (Y/N) Chibana." He grinned at me, "Awe- now that I think about it, I never told you my name earlier; sorry about that, kiddo, my name is Hisato Chibana. In my family, Chibana means 'A Thousand Blossoms.' You'll grow into that quite nicely. My little Hana."

That was the day my father officially adopted me. And he had wasted no time taking up his new role as my father. He was a patient man and never once got angry at me for my struggles to speak or if I was having trouble with my school work since I was starting school later than the other kids. Father had picked up everything and moved into the cabin in the woods with me not even two weeks after I started school. His neighbors had tried to stop him, warning him of the forest's dangers, but he simply smiled and said. "If I wasn't there for my daughter, then what kind of father would I be?" It was nice knowing he was there for me. It took me forever to properly warm up and see him as my Papa. I remember a day when he gave the principal an earful after he found out how some of the kids were making fun of the fact I was adopted since they couldn't exactly make fun of the fact I was an orphan anymore. 

When we got home that day, he sighed deeply and ruffled my hair as he told me to help him prepare the ingredients for dinner. "Don't listen to them, my little hana. You just have a different circumstance than them, but that doesn't make them better than you. You are an amazing young girl. I couldn't have wished for a better daughter," Is what he had told me, with a warm smile on his face. It had made him look so bright. I had clung to his leg for the rest of the night.

When I turned eleven, my happy life with my father ended. It was the middle of class, and I sat alone at one of the tables. The classroom was situated where there were fewer students than tables, and since the students were allowed to sit wherever they liked, I was the only one at my table. The teacher at the front of the room was teaching us multiplication when the phone rang. She told us to all settle down as he headed to the back of the class to answer the phone. "Yes, hello? Yes. She's here..what?" I saw the teacher go pale as her eyes landed on me, and I immediately knew something was up. "Ok..yes, I'll tell her. Alright, goodbye." 

The teacher hung up the phone."Chibana-San, please come with me." Everyone's eyes were on me as I slowly got out of my chair and followed our teacher out of the classroom. We didn't walk far, just to a different classroom that wasn't used at the moment; she sat me down at one of the tables. "Alright, Chibana-san, I must tell you some important news. It has to do with your father, Mister Chibana." I slowly nodded, my hands slightly shaking under the table as I feared the worst. "You see..while your dad was at work today, a little accident happened." The teacher looked at me with so much pity that I almost couldn't stand to look at her. "Is he ok?" I could barely hear my voice; I had spoken so softly. She shook her head, hanging low as she tried not to cry. After all, it wasn't every day you had to deliver news like this to an eleven-year-old. "Y-Your father got caught up in it, and he- he lost his life." In the end, she couldn't hold back the tears. And just like that, my world came crashing down around me.

Six years ago, my father died due to a workplace accident. They were working on construction, and some beams weren't tied correctly, so when the ropes gave way, my Papa was crushed under its weight when it fell. The information hit me like a ton of bricks at the time. The one person in my life who had helped me through each day, who cared about me, was gone forever. A week after his death, was when his funeral was held. 

Papa was beloved in town. He was an upstanding citizen who loved to help people. Never failed to put a smile on everyone's face, so it wasn't a surprise that so many people had shown up. I can't remember a single person there that day besides my teacher, but I remember the heavy feeling in my gut each time they looked at me in pity. Whispering to one another how dreadful it was for me to lose my father so young, all while I was still in earshot. Others, the more superstitious, whispered how it was my fault, that I must have been a bad omen. My teacher led me away shortly after the comments started getting out of hand. Only when I got home did I finally cry, finally began to fully grieve his death. For the first time in years, I was alone again. I didn't leave his room for a good few days. Soaking his pillows with my tears, I eventually believed those comments were accurate. Everyone at school believed it, after all, which only worsened the bullying.

Back to the present, and out of my depressing thoughts, I set down the groceries I had bought in town by the door. A sigh escaped my lips as I dug around in my pockets for my house key before opening the door. I crouched down to pick up the groceries before entering the cabin. "Papa...I'm home," I called out into the empty house as I closed the door behind me and locked it. Moving into the kitchen, I set the groceries down on the counter. I heard tiny footsteps and smiled softly as I turned around."Yes, yes, I'm home, Rose."

A few feet away was a pure white angora cat with heterochromatic eyes. The cat's eyes were blue and yellow, which reminded me of jewels. As I often shortened it, Primrose, or Rose, appeared shortly after Papa died. It was about a month after the funeral, if I remember correctly. But I could remember the night Rose came into my life so clearly.

After another long day at school, I only wanted to cry in Papa's room. Middle School was already hard to get through with all the bullying; now that Papa was gone, it felt more like I was trapped in hell. I set my backpack by the sofa before returning to Papa's room. I collapsed onto the bed and let out a shaky breath. It wasn't long before the tears began to fall from my face.

Every time I cried over Papa, it felt like another part of me was dying. How could humans even handle emotions like this? Doesn't it just eat them from the inside out? My arms wrapped around his pillow in a vice. Holding it tighter and tighter with every wail that left my mouth. The pain in my heart was unbearable. The moon shone through the window onto my form, and at that moment, it felt like I was being set on fire. I didn't want the light on me. I didn't deserve it. Not after everything I've cau-

A drawn-out mewl from the window snapped me out of my thoughts. The sudden sound caught me off guard, and I sat up, forgetting my grief only for a moment. A pure white cat with a slightly fluffy mane was on the window sill. The cat's eyes shun like jewels against the moonlight, and my eyes widened at seeing its eyes being two different colors. Its left eye was a beautiful honey color, and its right eye was a light blue. All things considered, it was a beautiful cat.

Before I could speak, the cat jumped onto the bed, startling me further. It walked over, unafraid, and laid down in my lap. It looked up at me and stared. Despite my initial shock, a soft, somber smile graces my lips. "Are you all alone too?" I wiped my tears and gently petted the cat on the head; in response, the cat meowed back as if in reply. "what's your name?" I looked the cat over. "It looks like you don't have an owner..you must really be all alone.." I looked that cat over, "I think..I'll call you Primrose."

Primrose tilted her head slightly, looking at me with curiosity. I shook my head, 'I've done enough reminiscing for one day.' I crouched down and petted her. "Yes, I know, you're hungry. Don't worry; I got you your fancy tuna." A soft laugh left my lips as I rummaged through the plastic bags and got out a can of tuna. The only brand that Rose will eat is an expensive one, but I can't bring myself to not buy it for her. Rose helped me through a lot of the heartbreak of losing my Papa. Now, as a Fourth-year in high school, Primrose remains my one and only friend.

I opened a drawer and got out the can opener. I opened the can and set it on the counter for Primrose to enjoy. After feeding my feline companion, I got to work on putting away the groceries. "Did you behave while I was away at school today?" I said as I looked over my shoulder and put some food in the fridge. Primrose, in response, looked away from me. Being an expressive cat, I could tell she was offended. "Oh, come on, you know I'm only kidding."

I threw away the plastic bags along with the now-empty tuna can. "Come on, Rose..let's say hello to Papa." We walked down the hall to a room adjacent to mine, and I opened the door. Across the room was a small shrine. I sat on the pillow in front of it and looked at the picture of my Papa. He was just getting into his thirties when he died, which came with the light facial hair he had started to grow. He had shaggy hair and eyes that always reminded me of honey. The highlight of the old picture was his bright, warm smile. One that barely ever left his face. One that I was so used to seeing.

I lit the incense on the shrine and clasped my hands together. "Hey Papa, school was okay today. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad either." My eyes closed as I thought about my Papa. "My grades are doing good. I've been studying really hard as of late." My eyelids fluttered open as my eyes made contact with the eyes in the picture. I missed hearing his voice, feeling his warmth whenever he hugged me, and laughing at his cheesy jokes.

"I...I've been thinking about the past a lot today.." I couldn't look at his face anymore, and I looked down. "I'm...so sorry that I never told you...I hope you can forgive me from where you are in heaven..or wherever you are." I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks as my hands fell to my sides, forming into fists as I dug my nails into my palms. "Would you still consider me your daughter if you knew what I am? Would you still call me your little Hana, knowing what my kind does to humans?" 

I felt like I couldn't breathe as I fell to my hands and knees and watched the tears fell onto the hardwood floor. "No matter how much I think about it, the guilt keeps eating away at my soul. Was I really the cause of your death? Did I doom you?" I jolted upward with a slight yelp as Primrose sunk her teeth into my arms."Ow! Rose, why did you-" I stopped as I noticed the distress in Primrose's eyes. I took deep breaths before letting out a long sigh as a half-hearted smile graced my lips."Thank you, Rose. I had another episode, didn't I?"

Primrose nuzzled her head against my arm and walked toward the door. My smile faded into something softer as I got up, glancing at my father's portrait. "I'll see you again tomorrow, Papa." I left the room with Primrose and closed the door behind me. "What would I do without you? You might as well be my emotional support animal at this rate." I watched Primrose walk toward my room, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Right, you need your beauty sleep." I stretched my back before rubbing where Rose had bit my arm. "She bit me hard. Even left a mark, fun."

I decided that I was just going to skip dinner tonight and go back outside for a walk in the forest. So I headed for the door, unlocked it, and stepped outside. It was almost nighttime, and the sun was just about to set. My head tilted toward the sky to absorb the colors cast over it. 'It should be that time of day, right?' With that thought, I headed back down the path. Just up ahead was my destination, a small bridge that crossed over a river.

From what my Papa told me, this bridge was constructed years ago, and when the builders were grabbing stones to make up the bridge, they somehow found a big piece of emerald caked in dirt. Over the years, the dirt fell away because of rain, and the emerald was eventually revealed. Sadly, the townsfolk couldn't get it out because of where it was located on the bridge since the wall would have to be broken. Around this time of day, because of the angle it had been placed in the bridge, only during this time, when the sun started to set, did the sun's light shine through the emerald perfectly and make a beautiful design on the river's surface. Some myth was also connected to the bridge, but I can't remember it.

I stopped beside the emerald in the bridge and looked over the railing. On most days, it cast a nice green glow on the ripples of the water. Yet, today, it seemed to not be the case as the water almost had a red look. I rubbed my eyes several times to ensure I wasn't seeing things. 'That's never happened before. Is there dirt on it?' I peeked on the other side of the emerald gemstone and saw nothing. "Maybe it's a little early?" I whispered to myself softly before I took a deep breath. 'Something about this situation doesn't sit right with me.'

I shook my head and turned around. The last thing I wanted was to come face to face with another cursed spirit because I was stressing over a weird bridge. I headed back inside, locked the door, and headed down the hall and into my room. Primrose was lying on my bed, sleeping soundly. I crawled into bed, trying not to disturb her. "Good night, Rose." I closed my eyes and tried my best to go to sleep.

Underneath the river's waters lay a plaque, long forgotten. Words carved into it told a small tale of the bridge. "Beware thy soul who views the river red, For soon a terrible fate lies ahead. When visiting the gem of the river so fair, Pray your fate isn't worse than death, beware!"

[squirrelthewriter]

How I met you again- A KotLC and PJO crossover

C H A P T E R 2 : Something unexpected

Sophie's POV: 

        I skipped back upstairs to my room, having just gotten breakfast with Edaline's Mallowmelt.

        Well, more like tried to: I had tripped on my own feet at the third step. 

Oh, come on! Why does skipping, or anything in that matter, have to be so hasardous? Or was it just me being clumsy as usual?

        It hadn't been too bad of a fall, so I had gotten up and headed up to my room, albeit less energetic that the first attempt. But as I got to my bedroom door, the excitement came back at full force.

I was going on my first date with the one and only Keefe Sencen!

        When I had asked Edaline if I could go out with Keefe, she had told me to 'come back by 11:00 P.M, or else...' in a stern voice. Though that goofy grin on her face made her little bit less credible.

        I felt a goofy smile of my own form on my face as I walked over to the door I went to almost everyday. Keefe had just asked me to go to the beach with him.

        I entered my bedroom, humming my favorite song from the Forbidden Cities and dancing my own choreography to go along with it.

        I got changed into a comfortable tunic and brushed the usual Gulon's nest that was my long blonde hair. Bracing myself for the impact of my reflection, I stepped in front of my Spectral Mirror, only to immediately get teased by Vertina.

“Oh my gosh, does your hair actually not look like a banshee slept in it right now? Oh, I feel faint!" the little girl who had just appeared on the side of the mirror exclaimed in shock.

        I rolled my unusual brown eyes.

“And oh my gosh, can’t a girl have a good hair day for once?” I asked in the same tone. 

        Vertina seemed to think for a few seconds.

“Well you aren’t necessarily a normal girl. And besides, you usually look all disheveled and half awake as if you're a zombie most of the time, so...”  she answered matter-of-factly, trailing off.

“Well, you just ruined my amazing mood.” I said frowning at her.

        She rolled her eyes.

“Which is what you do to me every time you walk in front of me,” she replied.

        I just shrugged and walked out of her vision, much to her disagreement.

"Hey, you can't just walk away like that, you're just impolite-" she suddenly disappeared from the mirror.

        I flopped dramatically into my bed with my arms spread on my sides.

        I wasn't going to get ready right now, it was way too early. But I was too excited to just wait while doing nothing. What could I do that wouldn't make me die of boredom before meeting Keefe?

* * *

        After a huge debate in my head on what to do, I decided on projecting my memories. 

        Getting up from my bed, I went to the wrinkled pink backpack next to my desk that contained all my old things. It was where I kept my favorite Human objects, but also where I kept my memory book.

(A/N: Yes, in this fanfic, she took some of her most important human belongings in a cute pink backpack. ) 

        I slipped my hand into the backpack, looking for the small Agenda-like book.

        I felt a triangular object, which felt like it. I pulled it out, though it wasn't my Memory-Log. It was a gray average-sized box with tints of brown imprinted on it with the words 'BFFs 4 ever!' written in a lopsided scrawl.

        I furrowed my eyebrows. The writing seemed familiar.

        I traced my fingers on the box before deciding to open it.

        I parted the two ends of the container to glimpse a beautiful half of a friendship necklace.

        It was made of a golden chain and a half heart shaped pendant. The pendant was itself gray.

        My eyes widened in shock. I couldn't believe I had found it.

        Could this really be the Friendship necklace Annabeth had given me for my seventh birthday?

[thisdreamplace]

hi. i wish i had the courage to come off anon but im not comfortable with it. but i just had a good cry while scrolling through your blog. thank you. honestly, life has been so sad for years. in 2020, i found out about the law. life has been rough & i just want softness. all of these rules that have been thrown at me do not make me feel good. i’m even afraid to type this at this point bc it may “mess up my manifestation”. but all this forcing is not worth it. does anyone ever stop and say “is all this worth it”? not about being god but all the rules & methods & techniques. does anyone ever want to live in peace? i feel like all of it isn’t peace. at least for me. in my head, god is stress free. but i can’t even wake up or go to sleep without the constant thought of negativity. i wake up “man, my 3d is still this way ugh, let me ignore & force these affirmations down my throat” and repeat the next day. i haven’t enjoy my life for 2 years. is anyone not tired like me??? 😭 it’s all supposed to be simple. i’m not the type to repeat forced affirmation & analyze every damn thing. i just want to eat ice cream & chill. lol. after scrolling through your blog, i see it’s ok. it’s okay to do whatever feels right for me. i hate that i had to see your blog to understand that. i wish i believed in myself the way i believed in others. i was already thinking i should just do my own thing but i didn’t trust it. i had to see a blog say it. 🥲 no more of that tho. i trust me. if we think about it, someone had to discover this law themselves. who’s to say we can’t just come up with something our self. there is no limit. blogs & loa related people don’t resonate with me anymore (no hate at all, i’ve just evolved in some way). i believe the true feeling is what brings you peace within. what truly resonates with me is creating my own thing. so that’s what i’ll do. so this is my official goodbye to the community.

ty beautiful blog that i just so happened to come across a second ago. 😂💞

hi <3

awe anon. tbh i think a lot of people are tired. i think its morseo frightening to let it all go though. the scary thing is once you learn about this law, there is no turning back. there is always that voice bugging you that says, "you caused this, its your fault, change it ! fix it now !" the sort of peace our past ignorance used to bring is no longer an option. we cant forget everything we know. but how can we move forward from here, branching off with all we know now ? its honestly terrifying when you put so much time and energy and faith into this for so long.

its actually very beautiful that this blog gave you a sense of light ! i love that ! this is literally why i love people and interaction and experiences. because we can move forward and grow in such positive ways thanks to the light of someone else ! thats literally so beautiful to me ! its why we are here together !!! omg

i'm glad that youre finally setting urself free. take it moment by moment n be patient with yourself as you find what feels best, and learn what its like to really listen to yourself. i remember during my break how i went throught this process and i told one of my friends it felt like i was literally recovering from addiction. bc thats essentially what its become for many. logging into whatever platform everyday, getting their daily high from all the motivational content and success stories, just to crash again later when the world just isnt seemingly bending to their will like the top accounts promised. its really an addicting doomloop. so take it easy and be okay with wherever you are at a moment.

if u ever feel comfortable to come off anon, i would love to be friends <3 sending all the love and sunshine to u on ur new journey ! xo

[tombeane-blog]

Pantone 13-1023 Just In Time For Christmas

I woke up this morning, logged onto the Google and was slapped with this horrific headline.

"El Nino appears to be on the verge of rapid collapse"

Holy c-rap! Rapid collapse? That can't be good, can it? Will we hear the sucking sound as it collapses - pulling in all the birds, fish and ships in the area along with that giant floating pile of plastic straws the size of Texas?

I can never remember exactly what El Nino means in terms of winter weather. I think El Ninos cause winter to be hotter and wetter… or maybe it's colder and drier?

On the other hand I just can't take La Nina seriously because it seems smaller and weaker - all girly or something.

Anyway, none of these seem like a good thing. I've been told nothing related to a changing climate can ever be good.

I mean we are supposed to spend 67 gazzilion dollars(adjusted for inflation) over the next X years keeping it from changing 1 or 2 degrees right?

So I ask myself, why do we put up with 20 degrees in the winter and 101 degrees in the summer? Can't we fix that too?

But I got off base here. Back to the headlines.

"The climate pattern known as El Niño, which quickly strengthened into a strong event, appears to be on the brink of a major decline, which would send the world into what is known as a neutral status."

Sending the world into Neutral Status? Are we supposed to think that is better? Somehow it sounds even scarier, or, at the least, more boring.

====================== Speaking of health hazards. How much do we know about what we put into our bodies?

Study the following list of ailments: Dizziness, headaches, nausea, diarrhea, constipation, blurred vision, hives, itching, fever, trouble breathing, drowsiness, insomnia, dry mouth, urinary tract infections (UTIs), genital infections, erection lasting 24 hours, dehydration, low blood sugar, ketoacidosis, alopecia, dermatitis, photosensitivity, dry skin, sweating… …and then there is low blood pressure, high blood pressure, no blood pressure… …and in rarely common cases - near death, far death, fear of death, fear of not dying and dying.

Now match them to the common medications we see on T.V. each and every day: Abilify, Jardiance, Rinvoq, Skyrizi, Viozah, DexcomG7, Dupixent, Jardiance, Celexa, Cialis, Celebrix, Claritin-D, Cosyntyx, Chantix, Lyrica, Lutada, Lexapro, Eliquis, Humira, Paxil, Zoloft, Xeljanz, Viibryd, Viagra and Voya (Not sure about that last one. It might be a financial thingy)

Ha! You just wasted three hours categorizing and cross referencing and fell for a titanius tower of trickery!

Most of them match most of them.

====================== While we are contemplating titanastic towers of stuff…

In the early twentieth century, New York City had a population of 7,000,000 humans and about 150,000+ horses. Each horse on average produced twenty-two pounds of manure a day, i.e., forty-five thousand tons of horse poop a month.

"Experts” at that time predicted that by 1930, the stuff would be piled three stories high in the streets. If asked, the "expert's" solution probably would have been to just kill all the horses.

As Yogi Berra once said, “Predictions are hard, especially about the future.” Because soon a technical solution in the form of the automobile came along.

Goodby poop smell! Hello sweet odor of automobile exhaust!

Maybe we should question "experts" a little more carefully and think through the "solutions" they push.

Like that deep throated guy in the movie 'All The President's Men' said, "Follow the money".

====================== Good news I just saw on the Telly! After the 87th attack on our forces in the Mideast, Our Secretary of Defense has just announced that the U.S. may be forced to taunt the Houthi's a second time.

====================== But I don't want to leave you feeling down just before The Holidays. So there's this:

"A warm and cozy shade highlighting our desire for togetherness with others and the feeling of sanctuary this creates, it presents a fresh approach to a new softness. Subtly sensual, it is a heartfelt hue bringing a feeling of tenderness and communicating a message of caring and sharing, community and collaboration."

I don't know about you but I'm feeling all tickly inside somewhere near my duodenum.

Yes. It's the 2024 Color Of The Year - PANTONE 13-1023 PEACH FUZZ.

Much better than 2023's color of the year - Gang Green. But, unlike Peach Fuzz, it is a Holiday color - sooo…

Merry Christmas!

[sheisintransit]

...and now for something a little more personal.

Hello again, if you’re here I guess you’re lost or you endeavor to witness the manic quarter life crisis I am currently having. 

Whichever the case-here’s the deal. For what feels like a long time now*, it has felt like somewhere back there, at some rest stop in the middle of the night or in a barstool in New Orleans, I lost the spark that used to make me feel like “me”. 

*I have been questioning my realistic relationship with time as of recent due to my new discovery of something called ‘Trauma Brain’.

When I was younger, I started writing every night on my Tumblr (that I probably thought was more popular than it actually was) after my shows on tour. I would write about people I met, how I was feeling, I guess I was decompressing.* 

*note; there were NOT as many easy ways to share your daily life back then, youth.

I had this wild fantasy I would write a book by the time I was 25, but I guess I was busy at SXSW that year. I do still have almost it’s entirety on a hard drive. Maybe I’ll plug it back in sometime.

I haven't quite figured out why I stopped, and even worse, I can’t figure out why I can't start again. 

I’ve sat and just poured glass after glass after glass of wine and listened to sad songs that used to tear me to pieces, flirted with strangers, hacked into my old photo bucket, done psychedelics, forced myself to watch old grainy cell phone videos from my past, everything. So, I bought a book by Rick Rubin and it told me I needed to try to be more open to The Source. The Source being where inspiration for art comes from. 

While I am still living on tour buses and swimming in polaroids taken across America, something feels...different. I guess I have kind of cut off my funnel from The Source. Fight and flight have shoved out my childlike sense of wonder and stacked their baggage so high it’s taking up a lot of the space in my brain. This has resulted in bullying myself daily with lengthy runs consisting of logging miles on the hamster wheel that is trying to get further in each memory I am desperately clinging to. 

I am not sure if the music and entertainment industry in general has done this to me, or the audience I was choosing to create art for. Perhaps I made up my audience and they turned on me in my head so I just stopped making art. I must’ve stopped writing because it was too “feelings” and I stopped “feelings” because after the outward flow was gone, the teeter totter didn't have anything left on the other side to stop it from just falling into the dirt. 

I guess the other side used to be the romanticizing I was doing when I used to hold myself accountable to a silly outlet. The person on the other side was the sticky, dripping, gooey hopefulness of what was behind the velvet curtain. The craving I used to have for that, I guess*. 

*Then again, sometimes I read back on my ramblings and I think I sound like a sociopathic Ke$ha in 2010.

I suppose I would like to hope that I can attract that metaphorical person again, the one who helped bounce the teeter totter back up when it hit the ground. If anything, I just want to try to chip away at something by blabbering some words down again, posting something a little more niche than the Insta content, and hopefully sparking what a sap I once was. 

I really don’t have the time to make videos or edit a TikTok these days, but I guess I can figure out how to at least update a blog. Wow. Vintage. 

Someone I love very much recently told me journaling was a good outlet for them. After many purchased and forgotten little notebooks, I decided this would be what I would do. I would make the great return to the Petri dish of emo and get back in touch with who I once was. And also tell some fun stories. And also possibly break down my identity crisis (just know I am picking on myself more than anyone else ever could). And maybe bring back Tumblr. 

Can we post nudes here again?

[yukihime242]

Today is the last day of 2022 and I thought that I should write something to end the year off. What better way to end this year with posts about the games I am playing for the year? 

I will be splitting the posts into three parts else it will get very long. This post will focus on the games I have stopped playing for various reasons. I will provide a rating at the end of each game, and do note that all of the remarks and comments, including the ratings, are my personal opinion.

1️⃣ King’s Raid

(Picture Source: Wikipedia thru’ Google Image Search)

Those of you who have read some of my posts would know that I constantly talked about this game. 

This game is about a young squire who went out to search for his older brother, who was sent on an expedition to eradicate demons but failed to return. That journey turned into something much more than the squire anticipated. Players will go through the story with the squire and his friends to learn more about the past and what his destiny is. 

The game is absolutely beautiful. You see the designs in the picture up there? It is exactly the same you will get in the game itself. The graphics and special effects will blow you away. The story itself is also captivating.

But why did I stop playing if it sounds like such a wonderful game?

Well... The game is just too difficult. This game forces you to pay attention 100% of the time to every battle. You will need to know when to apply certain skills, counter attack, defend, or even block attacks coming from the enemies. It may be fun for the pro-players but for casual players like myself, it is absolute nightmare.

I really love the graphics and such, but the story battles just makes me want to rip the phone apart some times. 

I would say that this game is way too advanced for casual players like myself. Even if there are guides available to show you the best way to build your Heroes, it is not a 100% guarantee that you will be able to pass through the stories with ease. Unfortunately, although I did enjoy the game, I had to stop playing it due to the amount of frustration I had with this game.

Rating: 5 ⭐/10

TLDR: Game is gorgeously beautiful but too difficult and advanced for casual players.

2️⃣ Tower of Fantasy

(Picture Source: Epic Games thru’ Google Image Search)

This game was very short-lived 😂

The thing about this game is that people are saying it is an imitation of Genshin Impact. But there are also people saying that it is not. 

Anyway, I am not here to debate about that. I believed this game did not managed to capture the players as much as it could. The only thing that really captivated players was the character creation page.

(Picture Credit: Forbes thru’ Google Image Search)

Otherwise, it was simply a game that is... meh.

I have only played it once and after I logged out of the game, I never went back to it. Moreover, I feel that the character movements in the game can be better improved. I get that not all companies have great technology, yet, small indie companies seems to be doing a better job in their motion graphics than this game.

I think that this game has potential but the developers needs to think of something that would hold players interest, apart from the character creation page. 

Rating: 3⭐/10

TLDR: Only the character creation page is the most interesting part of the game.

3️⃣ Atelier Online

(Picture Source: QM Games thru’ Google Image Search)

I love anime. And when this game came out, I was thinking to myself, I must get that game!

But after a while, it starts to get boring...

The game follows a young alchemist, also the protagonist of the game, on her alchemy journey. The game is absolutely beautiful but every rose has its thorns.

Firstly, the maps to explore is too small. You will find yourself repeatedly going through the same areas countless times because you have yet to unlock another part of the map. 

Secondly, I feel that the stories leading up to the chapter where we can finally leave the school grounds took way too long. 5 chapters may not seem like much but when you actually go through the story, it is very long. 

Thirdly, I feel that it is redundant to have a gacha shop in the game if you need to pay some real money in order to use it. What I meant is that you need the in-game gems to pull on the gacha, but the game doesn’t really let you earn the gems easily. If you really want to pull, you will need to pay some money. 

I feel like the game could have done better. I know the focus is on the story but the requirement to unlock the next chapter is quite grinding. 

Rating: 4 ⭐/10

TLDR: Nice beautiful game but eventually becomes boring

4️⃣ World Flipper

(Picture Source: Cygames thru’ Google Image Search)

I was a high scorer in pinball games. And I also love anime. When this game came to my attention, I was thinking, why didn’t I know about this earlier?

I was not expecting a pixelated game but that is something I can overlook because PINBALL. But what I was not expecting is the flippers.

The game does not allow you to control the flippers separately!!! 

(GIF Source: Tenor thru’ Google Image Search)

I understand that the “easy” mode is to control both flippers together. Meaning that with one tap on your screen, both left and right flippers will hit the ball together. But not all “easy” modes are easy.

For me, I prefer to be able to control the flippers individually. Meaning a tap on the left side of the screen controls the left flipper, while a tap on the right side of the screen controls the right flipper. 

I have scoured through the entire settings of the game, even googled how I can control the flippers individually, but there was no option for me to do so ☹️

Then I thought, perhaps I’m just too used to my method and maybe I will get the hang of it after a few rounds. NO. IT DID NOT GET BETTER. 

I lost more balls than I did in my old pinball games. 

I am also not a big fan of pixelated games but I am willing to overlook it in this game yet not allowing us to have the option to control the flippers individually has made me throw this game into the gutter.

Rating: 4⭐/10

TLDR: It would have been a lot better if the game has an option to let us choose how we want to control the flippers.

[raspberryfingers]

Kept Awake - Hosea Matthews x Reader (NSFW)

Happy Hosea Fucks Friday y’all🤗

————————

A small group of us sat around the campfire, talking lightly and eating our dinner, which was watered down stew just like always. 

And while I was never ungrateful, after such a long day it felt hard to force down. 

It felt hard to do nearly anything after scouring all of Saint Denis for a lead and simultaneously pickpocketing its higher class citizens.

But I’d come back with quite a bit of cash for the gang, and a few possibilities to look into, so I couldn’t say it had been useless. 

Still, my head was throbbing and I was desperate to drift off right there and then, seated on the log as I was. 

It seemed that I didn’t need to wish too hard, because I could feel my eyes slowly shutting as my head fell forward. 

There was a moment of pure bliss as I allowed myself to bathe in the sleep, but just like most moments of joy that I experienced, it had to be ruined by Micah Bell. 

“Aw, there she goes, falling asleep on us after a long day of nothing,” he teased, instantly making my head snap up at the disturbance.

I scowled at him, which only made him tease further. 

“Tell me, sweetheart, did you stand up for too long today? Was it too hard on your soft little legs?” He prodded, still grinning and licking his lips.

Arthur walked by us and seemed to overhear, because he instantly spoke in my defense. 

“Leave her alone, Micah. Don’t you have something better to do? Go sharpen your knife or make yourself useful for god's sake,” Arthur chided, suggesting in the most neutral way that Micah should fuck off. 

“Oh I will, Morgan. I will do just that, once I get my answer from the lady,” he continued, gesturing his hands towards me.

Arthur scoffed and shook his head, wandering off to finish whatever task he had in mind. 

Javier and John glanced at me as if to ask whether or not I needed help.

I set my focus back on Micah, letting them know that I didn’t. 

“I’m just tired, Micah, let it be,” I told him, shoving another spoonful down my throat.

“See now, that’s where I don’t believe you. It’s only a little after seven, nobody is ‘just tired,’ a little after seven,” he challenged, seeming to want some sort of theatrical and dramatic response.

I shrugged, not dignifying his taunts with a reply.

“Was the shopping too strenuous, sweetheart?” He asked, laughing now. John sighed, rolling his eyes. It seemed we were all tired of his bullshit and ‘jokes’.

He was obviously referring to the dress I’d gotten for myself, though he had no idea it was so I could attend the mayor’s party. Nor did he have any idea that finding big leads required big connections, which I most assuredly would only make if I didn’t look like a wild woman. 

I simply quirked my head at Micah, wondering what went through his head every time he opened his mouth. 

“No, no it wasn’t that,” I replied dryly, again forcing down more of the stew. He simply grinned, and I prepared myself for whatever stupid comment he would make next.

“Ohhh-hoho. I see, I see it now. It was the old man, wasn’t it?”

Now that, that made my eyes shoot up at him.

He began to laugh.

“Leave Hosea alone, Micah,” I warned, ready to defend him if need be. 

“No, I don’t think so, sweetheart. I don’t know why you’re with him anyways, the old fool. You oughta be with someone like me, don’t ya think? Someone who can still fire their gun, and not just literally, if you know what I mean,” Micah taunted, still laughing as he made suggestive comments towards me.

I clenched my jaw, but said nothing. Micah wasn’t going to see my anger, I was damn sure of that. He went quiet for a moment, observing me. 

“The old man kept you awake didn’t he? With all his coughing and wheezing, huh? What a miracle that he hasn’t just gone and died.”

I’d miraculously remained calm the whole time, but as his words fell from his rotten mouth, I could feel the anger boiling inside me.

His teasing, his plain rudeness had been fine until now. 

Now, it was certainly not fine.

I could accept his teasing on my behalf, but what I would most assuredly not accept was his teasing of Hosea. 

Especially what he had just dared to say.

In mere seconds, I flung my bowl to the ground, lunging for Micah and grabbing his shirt.

I practically jumped him, tackling him down and shouting as I landed three solid blows on his face.

“You fucking asshole. You keep anything about my husband out of your mouth or so help me god I will slit your throat in your sleep, you useless piece of shit!” I spat, venom laced on every word. I could feel myself shake with anger and downright fury as I hit him once more, trying to break free from the grasp John and Javier had on my arms. 

As they pulled me back, I let my boot kick Micah in the stomach and send him backwards, still fuming at his words. 

A crowd had instantly gathered at the yelling, and though I could see Hosea moving towards me, I ignored him and continued my assault on Micah verbally. 

“You have no fucking idea what it’s like to be a real man, and you’ve got no fucking idea what it’s like draining every ounce of energy after robbing people all day and looking for good leads, because you’re a fucking lazy piece of shit that hasn’t done any decent work since you first joined us!” I continued, practically screaming at him now.

He was no longer smiling, instead coughing as blood streamed down his face, most prominently from his nose. 

“In fact, you’re so fucking useless that you can’t even find a single lead without taking credit for someone else’s! Not only that, but I can’t remember the last goddamn time you came with us someplace and it didn’t end with a higher bounty and a town full of dead folks!” 

I was so angry I could feel my throat drying up, but I didn’t care. Watching him coughing and wheezing as he sat in the grass was the only satisfaction I needed after what he said to me. 

“Look who’s coughing and wheezing now, you fucking snake. What a goddamn miracle that you haven’t died, and that I haven’t slit your throat, you worthless asshole,” I scowled, and it was only then that I processed Hosea’s hands on me, along with Arthur’s. There were four men trying to drag me away from Micah, and to no avail. 

I finally let my muscles relax, and they quickly took me away from the fire. 

I watched someone try and help Micah up, but all he did was snap at them and tell everyone to mind their own business. 

I rolled my eyes, and I felt all but one pair of hands come off me, which I knew to be Hosea’s.

“You alright?” Arthur asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

I swallowed, still breathing heavily. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little pissed off,” I answered, which seemed to amuse the men around me.

“You sure?” John reaffirmed, wanting to make sure.

“I’m sure. You guys can leave, you know. There’s only a 20% chance I’ll jump him again,” I said, and they gazed at Hosea, who was standing behind me. I could see him nod at them in my peripheral vision.

They dispersed, but Javier leaned in for a moment.

“You know, I bet that felt good,” he said with a grin, and I smiled back with a nod.

“It sure did.”

He left me alone with Hosea, and I began to feel an emotion close to regret. It wasn’t quite regret, because I didn’t regret what I’d done, however the confrontation with the man behind me did make me nervous.

“(Y/N).”

I turned to look at him, swallowing and quickly averting my eyes as I reached his intense gaze.

Gently, his hand came to my chin, and he lifted my face.

His eyes were softer than I expected them to be, especially knowing how much he disliked physical force. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked, and though I couldn’t push my head down, I could look away. 

“Not particularly,” I admitted, knowing he’d probably be more upset if he knew the only reason I’d gotten mad at all was because Micah had said something about him.

“Come on, my dear, let’s go inside. Your knuckles are bleeding,” he noted, and I was surprised to look down and find that they were. It was only then I noticed the faint burn coming from them. I guessed they’d been the last of my concern when I lashed out. 

Hosea led me into the main house of Shady Belle, and we reached the destination of our bedroom, which was essentially a storage closet underneath the stairs. 

I didn’t mind, though, because the space smelled like him, and I was glad not to have him sleeping out in the thick, swampy air. 

He sat me down on our cot, finding some bandages from one of the shelves and then joining me.

He reached out, and I wordlessly let him fix me up.

“If you don’t want to tell me right now, then that’s fine, but I do hope you will tell me eventually,” he said after a moment, gently dabbing alcohol against my knuckles. I winced and then gazed at him.

“I will tell you, but I just- I don’t want you to be upset,” I explained, and he stopped for a moment to look me in the eyes.

“I’m not upset, and I hope you don’t think I am. Guess I’m just a little confused is all, you’ve never really been one to resort to punching,” he clarified, which made me sigh.

Of course he wasn’t upset, this angel of a man was hardly ever upset with me, which perhaps made me more worried that it would be a rare occasion in which he was when I confessed.

“I know, and I probably shouldn’t have, but Micah had it coming,” I defended, which made Hosea raise an eyebrow.

“Probably shouldn’t have?”

“I said what I said, Hosea. I know you don’t like violence, especially within camp, but I don’t regret what I did and I’m not sorry.”

He sighed as he began to wrap one hand, keeping it firm but not too tight. 

“I at least appreciate your honesty, even if I don’t agree with your actions,” he said nobly, which gave me the odd desire to lean in and kiss his cheek.

“I hope you can also understand that Micah has said a lot of other things to me and I’ve never jumped him before,” I added on to my case, and my partner nodded.

“I do understand, and that is why I’m wondering what he said this time,” he said, finishing one hand and moving on to the next. 

“I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad,” I prefaced, making him raise both eyebrows with something close to surprise.

“Have you ever known me to get mad?” 

“With Sean and Bill, I’ve seen you get mad plenty of times.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Well, with Sean it was mostly disappointment because I knew he could do better. With Bill… well, that’s different. But with you? How could I ever be angry with a positively beautiful lady such as yourself?” He asked, charming as ever while he kissed both freshly bandaged knuckles. I laughed softly, hanging my head in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll tell you, but I reserve the right to stop talking if I sense even a fleck of anger or disappointment in your eyes,” I said, and he raised his hands in defense and nodded.

“The right is yours.”

I sighed, trying to figure out where to start my tale.

“I’ve been out all day, Hosea, since early this morning, and I’ve done nothing but look for information and rob people. Mentally it’s- well it’s draining, and the city is so big somehow, and I could’ve sworn I went in at least three circles. Either way, I’m fucking stressed and I’m goddamn exhausted, because I want so badly to prove that I’m not dead weight. I know I’ve found good leads before, but I want to keep finding good leads, especially now because we’re so deep in shit that I want so much to get us out, at least a little bit,” I rambled, letting all of my inner thoughts out. 

Tenderly, Hosea rubbed my back and nodded sympathetically.

“I understand, my dear. It’s a lot, but it’s not your responsibility to uphold the entire gang. Nobody could ask that of you, and you’ve got plenty to show for it,” he assured me, though it was essentially useless.

“I just- I need to help everyone. It is my job, it’s what I signed up for when I joined back in ‘96, and I need- I have to get us safe, Hosea. Not just us, but everyone,” I confided, knowing he’d understand what I was feeling.

“I know, (Y/N), I know, I’ve been there plenty of times and I’m still there. Whether we like it or not, I reckon this gang can’t go on too much longer. Not with the law like this and Dutch’s fancy ideas about foreign countries, but you’ve got to remember that it’s not your responsibility. I don’t want you stressed out over it, especially if it gets you into fights,” he said, and I leaned into him.

“It’s just hard not to worry about everyone. But, that’s not what got me into the fight anyhow. Essentially what happened was that I fell asleep while eating my stew, and Micah kept giving me shit for it, asking why I was so tired, because apparently that’s amusing to him for some godforsaken reason, and well…” I paused, trying to figure out the best way to word what I was about to say.

“Well?”

I sighed.

“Well, he made a comment something along the lines of ‘you should be with a man who can still fire his gun’ and, ‘did he keep you up all night with his coughing and wheezing?’ and needless to say I did not appreciate that comment,” I confessed, almost immediately regretting it when I felt Hosea stiffen and sit up straight beside me. 

“You punched him because of me?”

I instantly turned to look at him, and where I was expecting disappointment I instead found a distinct sadness.

“No! I punched him because he was being a fucking asshole and you had nothing to do with it. I’m tired of him talking about you that way. I’m tired of everything,” I said, sighing and taking Hosea’s hands in mine. I leaned my head into his shoulder, raising it again when he began to speak.

“You shouldn’t have done that just to defend me. He was trying to upset you,” he said softly.

“I know he was, but that wasn’t the only thing he said about you, Hosea,” I explained, tears brimming in my eyes.

“What else did he say?”

I paused and felt my chin quiver. I desperately tried to hold back tears, but they fell anyways.

My voice cracked as I spoke, pain evident in each word.

“He essentially said you weren’t far off from dying and he was surprised you hadn’t already. He didn’t say it like that, but that’s how he meant it,” I whispered, unable to contain a soft sob. 

“Oh dove, come here.”

Hosea wrapped me in his sturdy, loving arms and kissed my forehead.

“I hate when he says things like that, Hosea,” I cried, feeling more secure as he pulled me into his lap.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and buried my face in his neck, trying to control my emotions.

“I may be sick and old, my dear, and I most assuredly will die someday, but I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon. You’ve put some youth in these aging bones,” he assured me, stroking my hair gently.

“You better not, or else I’ll be really goddamn pissed off. You’ll end up like Micah,” I teased, laughing even though I was still blubbering.

I felt Hosea smile, glad that I was at least pulled out from the gloomy thoughts. 

“What an unfortunate day that would be for me, I’m glad it’s not coming anytime soon,” he chuckled, slowly pulling back to look at me.

He gave me a sweet kiss, and wiped my cheeks with his thumbs.

“Let’s get you to bed, dove. You need some rest,” he suggested, standing and holding me in his arms still.

It was times like these that reminded me he still had strength in him yet, even all these years later. 

He laid me down on the cot, pulling back the blankets since it was admittedly a fairly warm night. 

He helped me undress like he was fond of doing, and he neatly folded my clothes before placing them on a crate nearby.

Left in my undergarments, I wondered if he would join me. I opened my mouth to inquire, but he seemed to already know.

“I’ll lay down too. I’m afraid we both don’t sleep nearly as much as we should.”

I smiled, sitting up to help him just as he had helped me.

I unbuttoned his vest with rapt attention, as if it was something entirely new and exciting to me. 

His neckerchief and shirt followed, and I watched his chest and back as he reached for his night shirt. 

“You’re so handsome,” I whispered, laying back and admiring him.

He smiled, letting me gaze for a few moments before he pulled on his shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” he shot back, slipping into the cot beside me. 

I let my head rest on his chest with a sigh, deciding to undo another button of his union suit. He raised his eyebrows at me as I let my hand run over the thin, silver hairs on his chest. 

“Everything alright there?” He teased, arm wrapping around me.

“Perfectly. Simply enjoying my husband,” I replied, nuzzling into him and closing my eyes.

His lips gently pressed against my hair, and I smiled.

“Goodnight, my dear. Get some rest,” he said softly, making me sigh and nod.

I was able to drift off with relative peace, even if in the back of my head the growing pressures of our situation loomed large.

I had no idea how to get us out of the hole we’d dug, and I was so worried it was only a matter of time before the Pinkertons covered it up with more dirt. 

—————

I woke up to a distinct sound, one that immediately sent me into a protective mood.

I looked at the space beside me in the bed and found Hosea leaning over as he coughed.

I instantly sat up, placing one hand on his back and another on his chest to help him sit up straighter, and to provide some reassurance.

“You’re alright, it’s okay,” I whispered, eyebrows furrowed with concern as his coughing raged on. 

He tried to say something, but was quickly cut off by his lungs once more.

“Shhh, get it out, you’re alright,” I continued, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder.

Slowly, the fit turned to a more subtle cough, which was more like a distinct shake of his body.

Finally, he cleared his throat and sighed.

“I’m sorry to have woken you,” he apologized as I handed him some water.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Hosea Matthews. I feel better when I can help you through it, I don’t like it when you’re in pain,” I informed, gently running a hand through his hair.

“Well, then I thank you, Mrs. Matthews,” he replied softly, turning back to kiss me. I accepted eagerly, placing my hands against his cheeks.

He began to smile.

“What?”

“You know, perhaps Micah was right. I do keep you up with my coughing and wheezing,” he joked, laughing as I hit his shoulder.

“Stop it with that nonsense. You should know better Hosea,” I claimed, to which he raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“The only thing keeping me up at night is this.”

My hand drifted down against his thigh, and I watched his eyes spark with lust as he realized what I was doing.

He let out a soft sigh as my hand brushed in between his legs, pressing against him.

“(Y/N)…”

I simply smiled at him, kissing him with a soft laugh. 

“That’s the only thing keeping me up, old man,” I teased endearingly. Calling him old man was a small jest I’d reserved for only myself. I was quick to tell off anybody else who referred to him as such, perhaps besides Arthur and Dutch. 

Hosea pressed his lips to my neck as I slowly palmed him, and I could hear his shaky breathing. 

He wasn’t fully aroused just yet, but I knew that if I left my hand there any longer he would be.

“You know, dove, I bet I could help you get some of the stress out,” he offered, tone low and suggestive. 

“Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?” I replied with feigned confidence, trying to ignore the excitement already filling my stomach. 

“I can’t be certain,” he mumbled, his hand now moving between my legs. 

I licked my lips, looking over at him and sighing out as he slowly began to rub my clit through my undergarments.

I was beginning to feel him growing hard under my hand, and I smirked.

“You know, Arthur’s probably asleep upstairs,” I pointed out, wondering what snarky reply he’d have to that.

“Well, he can complain to Miss Grimshaw for putting him there when he gets up,” he said, grinning brightly as I reached for his shirt with my free hand.

We detached from each other for just a moment as I removed his shirt, and then pushed off his pants.

I always had to take initiative when we undressed each other, because if I didn’t then I’d end up completely naked while Hosea was still fully dressed. It became evident to me early in our relationship that he enjoyed looking at me. 

When we were both equally undressed, it suddenly became a competition to see who could get the other person out of their underwear first.

I tried to lunge for him, but Hosea was too quick, knowing my every move from all of our previous ‘run-ins’.

His hands wrapped around my wrists, pushing me against the cot with a snarl.

He pinned my legs down by pushing his knees onto my thighs and holding them there, simultaneously capturing both wrists with one hand.

When he had me sufficiently subdued, he got to work undressing me, and of course I fought him every step of the way.

“Hosea this isn’t fair!” I complained, squirming and trying to break free of his grip. 

“What’s not fair? That I won’t let you have your way?” He questioned, laughing and kissing down my chest as more and more clothing was removed. 

Though I tried to fight him, the situation was unbelievably arousing and I found I needed him more than ever.

“Hosea please, If you don’t hurry up and fuck me,” I gasped, feeling the last of my clothes being discarded. 

I watched him slip off the rest of his clothes too, and I couldn’t hold in a sharp inhale, the result of seeing him so hard.

“You don’t want to be teased relentlessly tonight?” He asked with a grin, grabbing my hips and pulling me up against his thighs. 

“I can’t, Hosea, not tonight,” I replied, practically whining because I was so desperate for him.

“Let me taste you, please. And I promise I will, I won’t just kiss your thighs,” he swore, letting one hand skim across my stomach and between my breasts.

The sensation made me shiver and breathe heavily.

“Yes, please,” I whined softly, which was apparently the only encouragement my husband needed as he sank to his knees.

Ever the caretaker, I reached for a blanket.

“Put it under your knees, the floor is too hard,” I suggested to him, diverting for just a moment to make sure he was just as comfortable as I was.

“Thank you, dove,” he said, pressing loving, sensual kisses to my thighs. 

I looked down at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You said you wouldn’t do that.”

“I said I wouldn’t just do that,” he grinned, holding eye contact with me as he licked between my legs.

I sighed out in contentment, muscles going tense with pleasure.

He immediately stopped, and I looked at him once more to see what the problem was.

“Don’t do that, don’t get all tense. Relax, my dear, lay on the bed and don’t do anything else,” he instructed, hands rubbing up and down my thighs.

“It’s too overwhelming if I don’t,” I told him, knowing it was hard to stay relaxed for too long without practically going insane.

“I’ll be gentle with you, dove, work up into it. Trust me, hm?” He assured me, waiting for some sort of confirmation.

I swallowed and nodded, letting my head go back again. I physically released all my muscles, going limp as his tongue returned to my clit with long, slow movements.

I had to drill it into my brain to stay calm, to stay relaxed, and I couldn’t deny that it certainly felt wonderful.

“That’s so good, Hosea. So- so good,” I mumbled, hardly coherent as the pleasure flooded my brain.

He simply continued as he had been, testing me every once and awhile to see how I’d respond to more and more immense attentions. 

I let my hand drift to his hair, trying desperately not to clamp onto it, instead just letting my hand rest there. 

It was torture, trying to keep myself from going rigid, but at the same time it was pure bliss to just relax as he gave me such enthusiastic pleasure. 

His tongue met my clit more passionately than before, and I had to cry out.

It was either I went tense and held in my sounds or I relaxed and became vocal, it was practically impossible to be both.

“Good girl, let me hear your pretty noises,” Hosea mumbled, continuing his passions between my legs. 

It became so overstimulating I tried to push his head away, but he simply gripped my thighs and pulled them apart, continuing with even more force than he previously had.

“Hosea!” I gasped, reaching for something, anything around me. 

I was a writhing, moaning mess under his tongue, and I couldn’t prevent my back from lifting off the bed. 

His hand gently slid up my stomach, easing me back down. 

“Relax, dove.”

I trembled, making a conscious effort to relax my muscles. Tears were pricking at my eyes because the pleasure burned throughout my body. It was so hard not to tense up, but all in the same it felt like such a soothing reward. 

As he continued to eat me out, I felt his fingers gently massaging my skin, working my thighs so wonderfully. 

My legs felt so limp, so ready to be touched by him. I wondered whether tonight was a tongue night or if he’d decide to add his fingers like he was often fond of doing. 

For a moment, I felt his tongue slip inside of me, and I had to whine. 

“Oh god, Hosea,” I moaned, unable to keep myself from clamping his hair between my fingers. 

I needed more, I needed him to ruin me and leave me distraught.

“You’re alright, my dear. You taste so good,” he whispered, again pushing his tongue deep inside me. 

A choked out sob came from my throat, and I wondered how he’d even managed to draw it from me, but I wasn’t surprised. Hosea made it a sport to see which embarrassing and extremely lewd noises he could force out. 

He simply chucked, and I pushed my hips up against his face, eager. For once, he said nothing, and I was surprised he didn’t demand that I behave as he normally would’ve. 

I supposed that in his mind tonight was about making me feel satisfied and relaxed, and so whatever that entailed for me was pleasant for him. 

Though, I couldn’t let him miss out on the fun either, and I was most assuredly going to pay him back later. 

Drawn from my thoughts, I felt his tongue slowly swipe up through my folds and to my clit. 

That act seemed to make my sanity crumble, because I couldn’t help my volume as I cried his name. 

“Hosea! F-Fuck!” 

The sound of it made him moan, and it produced an arousing effect on me mentally and physically. 

I looked down between my legs, and the sight of him seemed too much, eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed together with such devotion, like he truly needed to taste every last drop of my slick. 

“You’re so… oh Hosea, I love you,” I gasped softly, which made his eyes open. Accordingly, we made eye contact, which made me shiver. 

A true, genuine smile appeared on his face, and he as a result used his thumbs to spread me apart further and directly lick my clit.

That elicited another interesting sound, something like a squeal, that caught both of us off guard. 

More smug chuckling from him. 

I moaned again, letting him hear it from me just like I knew he enjoyed. 

An idea sprung into my head.

“Hosea… Hosea, get up on the bed,” I managed to say, even though it took my brain a moment to process.

He removed his mouth from me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. 

“Am I allowed to ask why?”

“No, just get up here,” I demanded, reaching for him.

He complied eagerly, seemingly excited to know what I had in store for him now.

He was sitting on the bed, and I pushed him back to lay down, adjusting everything so he’d be comfortable. 

Promptly, I kneeled above his face, and he had that sly grin on as he reached to pull my thighs closer to his face. 

“Ah-ah, not so fast, Mr. Matthews,” I said, stopping him. He frowned, seemingly upset that I wasn’t going to ride his face.

I simply smiled and turned around, still above him, but leaning down towards his erection.

It was then he understood what was happening.

“Dove- dove wait a moment,” he rasped out, hands gently gripping my ass. 

I turned to face him, puzzled and wondering what he was about to say.

“Hosea?”

“I don’t want all that attention, I want to make you feel good tonight,” he expressed, gazing tenderly at me. I knew he meant it, because he often had nights like these where all he wanted to do was eat me out and finger me until I physically couldn’t take it anymore.

There was such a soft expression on his face, and so I gave him a reassuring smile.

“You know, for such a smart man, Hosea, you’ve always had such a hard time figuring out that making you feel good makes me feel good,” I assured him, letting one hand reach for his penis. 

He inhaled, and I saw the foggy arousal in his eyes, but he wasn’t convinced just yet. 

“I just know you’ve been stressed, (Y/N). I don’t want you thinking about anything else besides the pleasure,” he said, giving my behind a small squeeze. 

“Hosea, my love, you’ve got absolutely no idea how fucking good it feels to look at you when you’re in pleasure, or to listen to you when you moan. It makes me feel good, because I get to know that I’m making you feel good. It’ll make it better for me this way, I promise,” I continued, gently stroking him. 

His lips parted, and he sucked in a breath. 

“If you- if you’re sure, then alright,” he nodded, groaning softly as I squeezed his tip a bit harder. 

With his consent, I lowered my head, holding him as I took him in my mouth. 

He let out a gasp, something throaty and raw, which filled my insides with excitement. 

It was an adjustment, because just like the rest of him, his cock was long and thin, which meant it take much to feel him at the back of my throat.

What I couldn’t take in my mouth I took with my hand, applying as much stimulation to him as I could.

Of course, I was so focused on giving him pleasure that it shocked me to feel his hands push my ass down towards his face. 

I moaned around him as his tongue once again met my clit, devoting sweet attention to it. 

I pushed him deeper into my mouth, not feeling an urge to gag yet. It was always finicky, sometimes I could take him farther down my throat than others. 

But either way, he always showered me with praises and appreciations. 

“Oh sweet girl… oh that feels so.. so ah- o-oh,” he was gasping and groaning under my mouth, hands still massaging my ass as he buried his face back between my legs. 

I whined, feeling him push his tongue inside me.

“Fuck! Hosea…” I cried, lifting my mouth off of him for just a moment. 

He hit a spot that made my legs shake, and he was satisfied with himself, continuing there with more vigor. 

I let out another moan and then continued to devote myself to his erection. 

Once again, I pushed him into my throat, making a sucking motion that, much to my satisfaction, released a primal cry from his throat. 

There was such a feeling of accomplishment whenever I heard him moan, because to me, making Hosea feel good was one of the best things a sinner such as myself could do. 

Hosea deserved the world, and if I couldn’t give him that, I’d at least make him see stars this way. 

The new technique I applied seemed to encourage him, because he lapped fervently at my sweet spot as his thumb came under me to rub my clit. 

Again, my legs began to shake and I cried out around him, gripping his hips so I wouldn’t float away. 

I continued to try and pleasure him, but with the pleasure being so overwhelming I had to lift my mouth off of him, hardly coherent and needing to breathe.

“Hosea… Hosea I’m gonna- I’m gonna…” I moaned again, trying to convey to him that what he was doing worked wonders.

He gave my thigh a reassuring squeeze to let me know he’d heard me, and continued just as he was.

The pleasure began to build in my core, and practically my whole body, signaling to me that it was only a few more seconds before I was sent over the edge. 

And like clockwork, it was.

I cried out, legs shaking and insides clenching around his tongue as I came. Pleasure made everything hazy as I dug my nails into his hips and tucked my head in towards my body. 

Somewhere, I could still process that Hosea’s mouth hadn’t stopped. He was gentler now, trying to comfortably ease me through the orgasm. 

Slowly, my muscles began to relax, and I let my hands loosen and simply hold his hips. The rest of my body fell limp, and I simply laid on top of him for a minute as I came back to consciousness.

I sighed out, slowly sitting up and swinging my leg over his body so I could lay next to him. 

He pulled me close and kissed my forehead. 

“That was so good… Hosea,” I mumbled, letting my head rest on his chest. He simply chuckled and rubbed my back.

“You want to keep going? Or are you done for tonight?” He asked softly, petting my hair as he did. 

“Let’s keep going. I just needed a moment after that,” I said as I kissed him. He couldn’t hold back a smile as he slid down the bed, mischief in his movements. 

Hosea was unpredictable in the sense that I could never figure out what he was going to next, and this was especially true when It came to sex with him. 

I had no idea whether he was about to push his face between my legs again, push inside me, or finger me. 

This time, it ended up being the last. 

Spreading my legs, I watched as he moved between them, comfortably sitting there. 

Hosea’s hands moved up and down my legs, slowly teasing every inch of skin. 

I felt my body hair rise and my skin cover with goosebumps as he did, so tempted and thrilled by his touch.

“Hosea stop trying to seduce me and get to it already,” I gasped out, overwhelmed by my excitement. 

“Seduce you? Now, how you could insinuate such a thing. I am a gentleman, madam,” he jested with a grin, still not doing what I wanted and simply giving my thighs a squeeze. 

I gave a small snarl, reaching for his arms and pulling myself up so my face was inches from him.

“Hosea, I swear to god,” I muttered, ghosting my lips over his. 

His thumb and pointer finger came to my chin, and he simply quirked his head with that stupid smirk he loved to give me. 

“Is my dove getting impatient? C’mon, be a good girl for me, (Y/N), lay back down,” he instructed, denying me a kiss as he backed his head away. 

I wouldn’t stand for that though, and immediately gripped his hair to pull him in for the kiss I deserved. 

He seemed caught off guard by the rough action, but nonetheless he kissed back passionately, almost seeming turned on by my unusual boldness. 

It was then that I felt his thumb against my clit, making me gasp. Further, his middle finger pushed inside me. 

“Hosea…” I whined quietly, body shivering as his free hand went to the back of my head and pulled me forward so he could kiss my neck.

The sensation of his warm breath on my skin made me exhale shakily, reaching out to hold his shoulders as he curled his finger inside me.

I felt him add in his ring finger, and I let out a muffled moan, held back by his mouth temporarily leaving my neck to give my lips some love. 

I pushed my tongue inside his mouth, whining as he pumped his fingers inside me.

“F-Fuck… Hosea,” I whimpered, grinding against his fingers, which knew which motions to make and just where to brush up against.

“You want another one?” He asked, panting as he kissed me sloppily.

“Yes.. oh god, ahum..” I told him, noises slipping from my throat at the thought of another finger inside me.

I felt his pointer finger around my entrance, teasing as he slowly but surely pushed it inside, filling me with three fingers. 

I gasped out, unable to contain my noises as he worked my g-spot and clit simultaneously, waves of pleasure running through every inch of my body.

My legs switched around him, and I leaned my head forward onto his shoulder, rocking my hips against him and whining.

“That feels so- so good,” I gasped, letting out small moans and cries as he pumped his fingers with more passion. 

“Relax, dove. Let me take care of my girl,” he whispered, pecking my cheek sweetly. 

In return, I raised my head to kiss him once more. The sweet taste of his lips could drive me insane just in themselves, let alone the way he was working my body. 

I wrapped an arm around his neck, shivering as my back arched against his hand. I could feel the pressure building, and I knew that if he continued much longer I’d be falling apart. 

“Hosea.. I’m getting… I’m getting close,” I whispered, clenching around his fingers as he just ever so slightly increased the pressure of his movements.

I cried out, grappling his hair in my free hand and pulling myself up slightly, trying my hardest to get away from the overwhelming sensations, but he wouldn’t let me.

Even as I lifted myself away, his hand followed with my body, continuing with his motions and not allowing me an escape. 

“Hosea! Oh.. oh fuck!” I cried, not able to break away from all the euphoria of it. He was so skilled, so talented when it came to making me feel this way. I’d never been with a man who was so capable of making me lose my mind in such a manner, and who was capable of stimulating me so perfectly in so many different ways. 

“You’re alright, my dear. Such a good girl, taking it so well, aren’t you? So good for me,” he muttered against my neck, placing kisses there. 

Still overwhelmed, I raised myself onto my knees, but to no avail. Hosea’s hand seemed to follow wherever I did, and as a result my legs began to shake. 

“Hosea! I can’t- oh I’m so- so close,” I gasped, hands digging into his shoulders as I pressed my body against him, overwhelmed and having a hard time controlling my movements. 

His mouth found my breasts quickly, hungrily kissing and licking as I moaned and whined.

“Come on, Dove. Come for me,” Hosea encouraged, which was really all I needed now. 

There was a moment of silence as my climax built, and then a loud, throaty moan as I finally came. 

The orgasm was earth shattering, my legs shaking and giving out as I collapsed into his lap, holding his head and burying my face into his neck as I cried out. 

My moans were so loud I was sure that Arthur must’ve been woken up by them, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was so prolonged and overwhelming that I couldn’t even stop moaning. 

“That’s it, there you are, my sweet girl,” Hosea praised, placing kisses on my shoulder as I shook in his arms. His hand still hadn’t let up, and I could feel my vaginal walls pulsing around his fingers. 

“Such a good girl for me, so beautiful,” he muttered, gently slowing his fingers to let me recover.

I could feel myself beginning to come down, and all I could do was mutter his name.

“Hosea… Hosea… oh Hosea,” I whispered, panting and trying to catch my breath. I’d fully come down by now, and I went limp against him, closing my eyes and soaking in the feel of his skin.

I felt his fingers slowly slip out from inside of me, and then I felt his arm move upwards. Wondering what he was doing, I removed my face from his shoulder and set my eyes on his hand. 

The sight made me blush.

The sight being, of course, his fingers covered in my cum and slick. I glanced at it and then back at him, and it was no shock to see him wearing a proud smirk. 

I watched him bring his hand closer to his face and lick his fingers clean, loving the taste. 

“You taste wonderful, dove,” he mumbled, nuzzling his head against mine.

“I’m jealous, I didn’t get the chance to taste you,” I said, smiling and kissing his cheek. 

“Well, it’s only in my nature to be selfish,” he teased, hands placing themselves on my hips.

It was then that I noticed his erection, and felt bad I hadn’t taken care of it yet. 

I moved my hand down, gently rubbing him and trying to gauge his reaction. 

His lips opened, and he let out a soft sigh. 

“(Y/N)…”

I couldn’t help but smile, feeling him throb under my touch. My other hand reached for his balls, fondling him there too. A gasp came from his throat, and he thrusted into my hand. 

“Oh… it hurts,” he mumbled, and thinking he was referring to me, I instantly stopped all motion and apologized.

“I’m sorry, Hosea. I didn’t mean to-“

His eyes shot open, and he instantly realized his mistake.

“No! No, dove, not you. You felt good, so, so good. My erection- well, I want you so bad it hurts, that’s what. I need you, dove,” he corrected, and I saw the lust in his eyes. I quickly realized that he must’ve been in pain because he was so hard, and I quickly made it my task to take care of that.

“Oh, Hosea. I’ll help you, hold on,” I whispered, kissing him and lifting myself up a bit. I tried to mount him, but he stopped me, hands holding my hips still. 

“Let’s do it this way,” he suggested, gently pushing my back onto the blankets. 

“But Hosea- you’re doing all the-“

“Shhh. It’s alright, dove. I’ve been saving my energy, rest assured. Plus, I get to see your pretty face, don’t I?” He smiled, kneeling in front of me and slowly spreading my legs apart. 

For once I decided to simply comply, because tonight wasn’t a night of teasing and fighting back. Tonight was just raw and loving sex, and with Hosea, sometimes that was my favorite. 

He glanced between my legs, sighing with contentment as he reached down for his penis and moved a bit closer. 

“You ready, my dear?” He asked, searching my eyes for any hint of nervousness.

“More than. I need you, Hosea,” I whimpered, hot with anticipation for him. His chuckle in response somehow managed to make me even more needy. 

His hands gripped my hips and thighs, holding me there and letting his erection rub against my clit.

“Fuck… that feels good,” I whispered, gripping the pillow and closing my eyes for a moment.

Hosea seemed to appreciate this, because he continued to grind against that sweet spot, and slowly dragged himself down through my wet folds. 

“You feel good, dove,” he quipped in response, letting out a soft groan. We both seemed happy here, grinding against each other with gentle moans and whines, but I needed to feel him in me and I needed it now.

“Hosea, please… I need you- I need you to-“

A gasp immediately lifted from my throat before I could finish, because he hadn’t taken any time to wait before pushing inside me. Of course, he hadn’t been able to go all the way in, because I needed some time to adjust, but the sensation had been wonderful all in the same. 

“Hold on, dove. Almost there,” he whispered, pulling out a bit and then pushing in a bit deeper. He did this once or twice more and whined as he pushed all the way inside me. 

“You feel so… so good, (Y/N),” he whispered, letting himself sink into me. 

I bit my lip, rocking my hips slowly to let him know I was ready.

Slowly, he began to thrust, placing a hand on my stomach to keep me steady.

“Hosea… god you’re so big,” I mumbled, hardly coherent. He was big, more so in length than girth, but he was able to hit every spot perfectly, and the feeling of him bumping against my cervix when we were rough was always welcomed. 

He chuckled, but quickly stopped as the pleasure coursed through him. 

“You’re so wet… so wet and warm for me,” he muttered, slowly leaning over me and thrusting a little faster, now at a nearly moderate pace.

I whined, pushing my thighs around his hips. I needed him to be as deep inside me as possible.

I bucked my hips against his, wanting more friction. He took the hint and picked up his pace a bit, but not without a few taunts.

“Easy there, girl. Woah now,” he teased, grinning down at me. I began to laugh, but it was cut off by a moan as he pounded into me with a little more force than usual. 

“Fuck… Hosea,” I gasped, reaching for him and pulling him down closer to me. 

His hands now came to press on the bed, holding himself up as he pushed harder and harder, making me moan relentlessly.

The cot shook intensely beneath us, and for a moment I was worried it might snap, but the thoughts were insignificant as Hosea continued to pound. 

“Fuck… oh fuck, fuck,” I moaned, feeling him begin to bump against my cervix. 

“You feel so good… my dear, so so good,” he whispered, moaning and then moving to kiss my neck. 

His hot breath, let alone his wet tongue, made even more pleasant nerves shake my body, and it was nearly impossible to focus on anything but the pleasure. 

“H-Hosea…”

“Relax, dove, I’ve got you.”

My heavy breathing continued as I leaned into his warmth, body pressed against mine as he filled me up. 

I couldn’t help the moans and gasps that emitted from my throat as he filled every nerve in my body with pleasure, mind foggy and unable to process anything besides him. 

“Y-(Y/N)… I’m getting close, we oughta… oughta switch positions,” Hosea gasped out, hands clenched in the blankets.

“No, I want you to finish,” I mumbled, keeping my legs firm on his hips and waist. It was true, I wanted him to come. Hosea always pleasured me orgasm after orgasm, and even if it would take us a bit to get back into it afterwards, I still wanted the same for him.

“(Y/N)- (Y/N), n-no… I’m not gonna be able to go again…” he said, trying to slow himself down to no avail as I rocked my hips against him. 

“Yes you will- t-trust me,” I breathed out, in so much pleasure and trying so hard to make him come. 

I heard a mangled groan emerge from his throat, and I could feel him twitch inside me as he tensed up and spilled his cum inside me. 

“(Y/N)… o-oh fuck… (Y/N).”

God, his face looked so perfect as he came, the sight itself felt like enough to arouse me further. I didn’t think there was anything I loved more than seeing his face contorted in such pleasure the way that it was. He was so beautiful.

Hosea’s legs shook as he slowly fell on top of me, head resting on my breasts as a wave of peace overcame him. 

I smiled, petting his hair as he caught his breath and bathed in the euphoria. 

“I love you, Hosea,” I whispered, kissing the top of his head.

He lifted his head as I said it, and pulled himself up a bit to kiss me. 

“I love you more, my dear,” he mumbled, still not fully with me. 

I felt him pull out, and I watched intently as he rolled beside me and began to go flacid.

“Y-You shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t finish off first,” he lamented, turning to look at me.

“I know, and that’s alright. When you’re ready I’m fairly confident I can get you hard again, and then we’ll keep going, hm?” I said, leaning over to kiss his neck. 

He instantly leaned into my lips, hand reaching for my waist so he could pull me closer.

“Well, I’m almost ready, dear. Just another moment,” he agreed, taking a big breath and relaxing. 

After a minute or two had passed, he rolled me over and began kissing my neck with more passion than I had displayed. 

I couldn’t hold in a moan, especially as he began to suck and lick my skin. 

Needing to take control for a moment, I pushed him back and straddled him, subconsciously letting the mixture of my slick and his cum drip onto his stomach. 

However, he certainly realized this, because his eyes went wide.

“(Y/N),” he said, motioning for me to wait a moment. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was up to as he raised his knees and pushed me back up onto his thighs. 

He finally revealed himself as he spread my legs, inhaling at the sight. 

Looking down, I finally saw the cum littered across his stomach and waist, and I swallowed before meeting his eyes. 

“You’re drippin’ all over me, dove,” he remarked with a pleased grin, reaching out to thumb my clit. 

I bit my lip and gave out a gentle whine as he did, still observing the cum on his stomach and the cum that continued to fall from my insides. 

“It’s your fault, Mr. Matthews, I’ll have you know that,” I teased, feigning upset and looking away. 

He chuckled, but said nothing as he observed me. I looked back at him, and he had the fondest look in his eye as he continued to gently rub my clit. It wasn’t enough to make me cum, but it was enough to keep me stimulated, and that was his goal.

“(Y/N), you are so beautiful. You oughta be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, right next to my dear Bessie. And I- well I’ve always thought that of you but now- right now, with you sittin’ on my lap as my seed spills out from you… god, you’re beautiful.”

I felt myself soften, and we met halfway to kiss each other. 

“Oh Hosea… I love you,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against his. 

“I love you too, dearest. So much.”

I smiled and kissed him again, gently moving my hips forward and beginning to grind on his penis. 

Hosea jolted as he felt it, sighing out and reaching for my hips as I continued to rock my hips against him, pleasuring myself and helping him grow hard again. 

I was still leaning over him, and he used one hand to hold my hair back as I bucked on him. 

Slowly but surely, I could feel him twitching and growing harder beneath me. Still, I knew he could get harder, and I was determined.

Hosea began to grind against me in response, and the room filled with heavy breathing.

We rocked against each other in sync, and as the tip of his penis bumped my clit, I let out a feral moan, pressing down on him even harder and burying my face in his neck.

Hosea moaned in response and once more began to lap at my neck, making me shiver and moan even more. 

“Sweet girl… look at you, getting yourself off on me. So beautiful… such a good girl, huh?” He soothed, making me whimper and buck my hips faster. 

The friction of his cock against my clit was beginning to drive me wild, and I knew if I continued much longer I’d be finishing within seconds. 

“F-Fuck… Hosea I’m so close…” I whispered, slowly pushing myself up so I could sit up on him and go even faster. 

“I know, dove, I know. You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, hands reaching for my breasts. 

As he fondled, I sighed out in pleasure and reached for his waist to hold myself steady as I continued to grind on him, essentially going as fast as I could. 

“H-Hose-Hosea… I’m not- not hurting you, a-am I?” I got out, though with much struggle, as it occurred to me that such intense friction might actually hurt.

“No, dove, no, you feel wonderful. You’re so wet, so wet for me that it doesn’t hurt a single bit,” he assured, breathing heavily and smiling at me to let me know it truly was alright. 

I nodded, moaning as I continued to grind, and as he teased my nipples. No real sensation came from it, but the attention and the warmth of his hands made it pleasant for me. Not to mention, it provided much needed support as I bounced and bucked on him. 

But that aside, my building pleasure presented itself to me once more, and my moans began to get louder as I got closer. I knew it was only a few more seconds until I came, and so I shut my eyes to keep myself from being overwhelmed. Of course, Hosea protested this. 

“No, dove, look at me. C’mon, look at me. Good girl, there you are, so beautiful,” he gasped, holding his eyes on mine as my brows furrowed even more and my mouth fell open.

“H-Hosea I-I’m-“

“I know, dear. I know, you’re so close. Go on and come for me.”

His command was all I needed as my orgasm hit and I cried out his name with an immense volume, desperately trying to continue my erratic movements but struggling as the pleasure crashed down on me. 

“Hosea! F-Fuck.. Hosea! Fuck… oh fuck.. Hosea,” I cried out, followed by another loud yelp of his name as he picked up the pace of his own hips to prolong my orgasm and bring even more satisfaction.

A loud, desperate moan came from my throat as he continued, and as I came down against his chest I heard boots shuffling above us. 

Either we’d just woken Arthur up, or he’d been up and decided we’d been going for long enough that he needed to escape. 

I panted against Hosea’s chest, in that moment not caring an inch that we’d woken Arthur up, too overwhelmed and happy as I leaned into my husband. 

I was so tired and spent that I could feel my heart pound in my chest, and even more importantly, I could feel my clit pounding too, so sensitive from all the stimulation I’d put it through.

I sighed out, kissing Hosea and rolling over next to him. 

“You done for the night?” He asked, kissing my cheek. 

“No, no. I still need you inside, I just want a little bit before that,” I explained, catching my breath and reaching down to rub his penis as I came back to myself. Hosea moaned and nodded.

“Alright, dove, take your time. You’ve done a real good job for me thus far, I don’t know how you’ve still got any energy,” he chuckled softly, leaning his head into mine.

“I’ve just got determination, and plus, it’s hard to say no when it’s with you,” I said, smirking and kissing him. He laughed into my mouth, slipping his tongue inside and moaning as I did the same. 

Feeling ready, I broke away and observed his face.

“You’re so handsome, Mr. Matthews,” I muttered, kissing his jawline.

“As are you, Mrs. Matthews,” he shot back, grinning. I decided to stop the teasing and get straight to it.

“Where do you want me?”

He raised his eyebrows, still smiling softly and pondering the question. 

“Where would you like to be?”

“I- I don’t know, I’ve got a few ideas,” I said with a shrug. 

“Well, who said we had to stay in one place? What do you want to start with?” He asked, kissing me again. 

“Maybe I’ll get on top while you sit up, we can kiss that way,” I suggested, and he smiled.

“That sounds perfect, dove.”

Accordingly, Hosea sat up and crossed his legs as I climbed into his lap, reaching for his shoulders. 

“You ready?” He asked, hands moving to my hips. I nodded, giving him a sweet peck as I raised myself up, carefully waiting as he reached for himself and searched for a moment. 

As he found my entrance, he pushed in a little, and held himself as he waited for me to take the initiative. 

I slowly lowered myself, adjusting to him again as I sank all the way down with a sigh, slowly rocking my hips on him to stretch my insides out a bit.

“(Y/N)…” he gasped, kissing my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

Slowly, I began to bounce on him, aided by his hands which held me firm. 

“Such a good girl. You feel so good, dove,” he praised, lifting his head so he could capture my lips with his.

It was messy, and we were both panting, which somehow made the kiss even hotter and desperate. 

But we kept our pace slow, just intimately enjoying each other as we fucked. Nearly every inch of skin was pressed together this way, and it felt wonderful.

I began to kiss his neck, sucking there to get him back for the marks he’d most assuredly left. 

He chuckled as he moaned, knowing exactly what I was doing.

“Getting me back, aren’t you?” He mumbled, groaning again as I came down on him with a bit more force than before. 

“And I’m keeping your neckerchief,” I threatened, going back to leaving hickeys on his neck. 

He growled, gripping onto my hips and forcing me to go faster now. 

“Hosea.. fuck,” I muttered, feeling so good as he lifted and lowered my hips, practically doing all the hard work for me. 

His hips began to buck up into me, and I moaned as they did, because he’d begun to hit an entirely new spot, and god it felt wonderful. 

Again, I kissed him, and he wasted no time letting his tongue push into my mouth, making me moan and cry out due to all the stimulation. 

I took some initiative and bounced a bit faster on him, making him groan and snap his hips up against mine. 

We were both a moaning mess, and I moaned even louder as his hands found my ass.

He gave a gentle squeeze before gripping and continuing to take some of the burden off of me, which helped as my knees began to grow sore.

We’d have to switch positions soon, but I was enjoying it now, and that was all that mattered.

Soon kissing became too much, and we had to pull apart to breathe. 

Tension was building my stomach, but not quite enough to make me come, and I knew that.

Nevertheless, I continued to bounce on him, needing the sensations that came with it. 

“Y-You ready to switch yet?” He asked, moaning and giving my ass a small slap. 

I moaned, nodding my head.

“I was going to ask, my knees are getting a bit sore,” I admitted, slowing myself down so we could safely switch up. 

“Any ideas, ma’am?” He asked as I carefully lifted off of his dick, not wanting either of us to get hurt.

“Would you be willing to get behind me?” I asked, to which he smiled and nodded.

“Certainly. Set yourself up where you’d like and I’ll position myself accordingly,” he said, moving aside so I could do whatever I wanted. 

I decided to take up a more relaxing position, laying on my stomach and pushing my legs together as I rested my head on the pillows.

I felt Hosea move behind me, placing a leg on each side of me and lowering himself a bit. 

His hands came to my ass, massaging there as he moved forward a bit to mount me. 

His hands spread me apart, and he positioned himself as he slowly pushed in. There was less resistance this time now that he’d already been inside, and we both moaned out as he entered. 

He gripped my hips to hold himself steady, and he began thrusting, slowly at first, but he picked up quickly as he knew I needed him badly. 

“Fuck… Hosea…” I moaned, raising my head to look at his reflection in the window. 

His hair was messy, and his eyebrows were pushed together in immense pleasure as he fucked me. The sight might’ve been the most arousing thing I’d ever seen. 

Having my legs pressed together made things tighter, and I knew it felt better for both of us this way. 

“God… (Y/N)… you feel so- so good,” he groaned, pounding into me with more force now. 

All I could do in response was moan, gripping the pillow as I cried out. 

The way he was fucking me might’ve produced the most amount of sound yet, both from our mouths and from the cot, which was slamming against the crates as our bodies rocked against each other. 

Hosea suddenly decided to smack my ass, a behavior I’d noticed he’d take up whenever he wanted to get more sound out of me, and I eagerly complied.

“Hosea! O-Oh fuck, Hosea do that again,” I whined, trying to encourage him because I truly did want him to do it again. There was something strangely erotic about him singing praises while smacking me that way, so rough and unhinged. 

Never one to deny me, Hosea eagerly smacked it again, moaning as he did and then instantly massaging it to soothe the aggravated skin. 

I cried out as I felt it, the sound filling my ears and making me even more desperate. 

“Such a good girl, (Y/N). Takin’ me so well as I fuck you and spank you, hm? So good for me, sweet thing,” he murmured, moaning as he finished his praise. 

I whined, nodding and spreading my legs just a little bit to let him go deeper.

He pulled my hips back onto his, and I cried out as he hit my cervix. 

“Fuck! H-Hosea…” I called out, having to bury my face in the pillow for a moment. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, slowing his thrusts and getting more gentle. He’d clearly misinterpreted my cry, and I felt bad, immediately reassuring him he’d done something good.

“No! No, you went so deep it knocked that out of me. It felt good, I promise, keep going,” I explained, backing up onto him to encourage him. 

He nodded, leaning down to kiss me and then picking his pace back up. 

Again, I was moaning and gasping as he continued with his relentless pace, making me see stars. 

“So good… so good, Hosea,” I muttered, eyes watering because the pleasure was so intense. He could hear my voice cracking, and he moaned in response, lifting my legs up and placing my hips on his thighs.

The added angle made me gasp, because he’d begun to hit the perfect spot, and my moans had suddenly become two times as loud. 

“Fuck! Hosea- Hosea right there,” I moaned, tears dripping onto my cheeks because it was so overwhelming. 

The unfortunate part was, as good as he felt, I didn’t imagine I’d be able to come without him rubbing my clit, and the position made it difficult for me to do it myself. 

Either way, I’d take this for a while longer because god it felt good when he pounded into me like this. 

His hand came up my back, and I made eye contact with him in the window, legs shaking as he continued to pound into my g-spot. 

He seemed to notice the tears, because he moaned and somehow managed to go even harder, which made more of them fall from my eyes as I cried out.

“Look at you, dove, crying and f-falling apart for me. You’re takin’ me so well, so well, Y-(Y/N),” he managed to choke out, pleasure evident in each word. 

I moaned again, his words washing over me and making me feel so special somehow. Because god, I was falling apart and it was his doing. 

As he continued to pound, I suddenly became nervous he was going to overexert himself as he sometimes did.

I tried to tell myself it was nothing, but I felt his thrusts falter, and I heard a choked wheeze come from his throat, like he was trying to hold it back. 

“Hosea-“

Just as I said his name, he began to cough, and I moved forward so he’d slip out before turning around to face him and help him through it. 

I took him in my arms, petting his head and rubbing his back as he coughed and wheezed. I gave his back a few pats to help it out, and when the coughing passed I felt relieved. He was still wheezing, but the worst of it was when he coughed, because it was always so violent.

“Oh Hosea,” I whispered, burying my face in his neck. 

“I can’t even- can’t even make love to you without wheezing and coughing,” he criticized, catching his breath. 

“You overexerted yourself, that’s all. It’s alright, Hosea,” I tried to assure him, pressing my lips to his cheek.

“Still, I should be able to do that without such troubles. I used to- I mean a few years ago when we-“

“A few years ago we weren’t stuck in a hot, humid swamp. Your lungs are worse here, and either way, you went a little too hard and that’s alright,” I continued, placing my hands on his face so he’d look me in the eyes.

He looked so sad, and it broke my heart. He was right, the cough had gotten worse, but the last thing I was going to do was acknowledge that. 

“(Y/N)-“

“Hosea, you owe me something, don’t you?” I said quickly, changing the subject. He paused for a moment, but forced himself to cheer up and nodded.

“I believe I do. Perhaps we oughta change positions?” He suggested. I nodded, thinking for a moment before pulling him down next to me on the bed and facing away from him. 

He understood instantly, adjusting himself a bit so everything was in the correct place. He reached to lift my leg a little before lining up at my entrance, kissing my shoulder as he did.

He pushed in slowly, and his mouth moved closer to my ear.

“I know I like to pity myself a good deal, and I know you get worried, but when I say things it’s more because I get annoyed- not because I’m- well, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, (Y/N). You know that,” he whispered tenderly, and I swallowed to keep myself from crying. 

“I try to tell myself it’s not a big deal but I- I get so worried sometimes, Hosea. And then I feel guilty for being worried, because I know you don’t want me to be,” I admitted, turning my head to face him. 

He propped himself up on his arm so we were face to face, and his free hand cupped my cheek. 

“I know, dear. I’ll be alright, though. I’ve got something to hold on for, and most of the time you make me feel healthier than I’ve felt in years,” he said, kissing me sweetly and tucking some hair behind my ear.

“I love you, Hosea,” I mumbled, sighing and reaching back for his head. 

“I love you more, dearest.”

He kissed me once more, and he slowly began to thrust, movements sensual and loving as he held me close. 

Our position was intimate, and I felt so cherished pressed up against him the way that I was. 

“So beautiful.. so beautiful, (Y/N),” he muttered, hand reaching for my breasts before coming down to cup my stomach. Hosea had always loved the soft skin there, always loved the intimacy of it and the warmth. Sometimes I let myself wonder how much more he’d love my tummy if I were to ever end up pregnant.

And on the subject of pregnancy, the thought of his cum spilling into me made me more than a bit desperate for him. 

“Hosea… faster,” I whispered after a moment, and he complied as he kissed my neck. 

Hosea moved his hand even further down, and I inhaled sharply as he found my now oversensitive clit. 

“H-Hosea, c-can you be a little gentler? I’m still sensitive,” I said softly, feeling a bit too overstimulated by the direct attention. 

“Sorry, dove.Tell me how this feels,” he whispered, switching from his thumb to his pointer and middle finger so the contact wouldn’t be as direct. 

As he switched, I moaned out, now feeling the perfect amount of sensation. 

“That’s perfect, god, just like that.”

He chuckled, continuing his motions and leaning his head on my shoulder. 

I reached back for his hip, not sure where else to grab as he rocked my body. 

“You want me to go faster?” He asked after a moment, always trying to make me feel as good as he possibly could. 

“Y-Yes, please. I need you,” I gasped, crying out when he eagerly complied and began thrusting at a punishing pace. 

“I love you, (Y/N),” he moaned out, unoccupied hand pushing underneath me and wrapping around so he could hold my breasts. 

“Hosea… I- I love you too,” I managed to choke out, turning my head back to kiss him. 

The kiss was sweet, but there was passion, and it made butterflies fill my stomach all these years later.

Sex with Hosea was no mundane task, it wasn’t just pleasure or fun, it was loving and enriching. There was always the realization that the man inside of me was the man who’d held me during my darkest hours, who’d taken care of me when I was sick, who’d protected me from gunfire and all sorts of animals. I shared so much with Hosea and I felt it so strongly when we made love. 

It was more important to me than anything else, and I’d never forget that. 

When we broke apart he kissed my cheek, and I leaned into him, free hand reaching for the back of his head.

I whined as he gave my clit a bit more attention, and he was careful to watch my reaction. When nothing seemed wrong, he continued with that, and did so with encouragement when I moaned. 

“Hosea- Hosea can you- just a little harder,” I requested, fingers grabbing his silver hair as he granted the request. 

He was pounding so passionately, and his hand was rubbing my clit so purposefully that it was hard not to feel my climax beginning to build. 

This was even more heightened as his leg came between mine, lifting it a little to get a new angle.

That being said, the new angle had him pounding into my g-spot once more, and the noise that escaped my throat let him know that.

“Right there, hm? Such a good girl, you like that, don’t you?” He cooed, unable to hold back a moan as he continued.

“So wet… so wet for me, dove,” he continued with his sweet nothings, making me whimper and whine in response. 

“Hosea- Hosea I want- I want to hear you,” I said, breathing heavily and trying to contain myself for a moment. 

“H-Hear me?”

“Like this.”

I pushed back against him as he thrusted in, and I clenched my vaginal walls tight around him. A long, low moan came from his throat, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I- I see. I’ll be loud for you, dove,” he murmured, thrusting harder as he regained control. 

As we continued, the room filled with moans, cries, and each other’s names. 

I sincerely hoped Arthur was no longer in his room, and I also hoped that the Marston’s were far enough away. 

If they weren’t, I feared Jack would need a talking to. 

“(Y/N)… oh (Y/N),” Hosea gasped, moaning loudly and leaning his head into my neck. 

“Hosea- Hosea I’m getting close,” I cried, orgasm beginning to build.

“So good- so… so good,” he whispered, fingers still working my clit with more than enough experience. 

We moaned in unison, and I leaned back to kiss him. Sloppily, our mouths met, and then they quickly broke apart because neither of us had enough breath for anything more. 

Still hitting my g-spot, Hosea was bringing me more pleasure than I’d ever imagined was possible. I could only recall a few times we’d had such intense sex, which wasn’t even a critique of our other sex, more a praise of the sex we were currently having. 

Though, all forms of intercourse with Hosea were wonderful in their own ways. 

Pulled from my thoughts, I heard another moan, and I wasn’t entirely sure who it came from.

Either way, I also became extremely aware of the fact that the way Hosea was pounding me was extremely loud. My ears seemed to have become used to the loud clapping coming from between us, along with the shaking of the crates. It was truly amazing how loud sex managed to be sometimes.

And of course, the moan from my throat as Hosea increased pressure on my clit made that excruciatingly evident. 

“Fuck! Hosea… oh Hosea.. fuck,” I gasped out, as close to an orgasm as I was to seeing god. 

“You getting c-close? Or s-should we switch up?” He asked, panting and groaning loudly.

“Yes! I’m so- so close, don’t- don’t change a thing,” I told him, shutting my eyes closed because I was so overwhelmed. 

His warm breath was suddenly on my neck, panting and beginning to kiss there, because Hosea knew it was all that I needed to come.

“You’re alright, dove… be a good girl, come for me, hm?” 

My orgasm washed over me, and I was incapable of anything but letting out the loudest moan I’d released all evening. Of course, there were also a slew of cusses and my husband's name. 

“Hosea! F-Fuck! Hosea!” I cried out, gripping his hair and his hip harder than was probably safe, but there was no protest. Instead, he continued to pound into me, moaning and whispering things that I could barely hear.

“So good- such a good girl for me, that’s it… that’s it, good, you’re doing so good,” he praised, thrusts getting slower and sloppier as my vaginal walls clenched and pulsed around him. 

“(Y/N)! O-Oh.. oh, (Y/N)… my sweet thing,” he gasped, collapsing beside me and leaning into my neck. He was no longer thrusting, and his hand was no longer moving. 

I felt his balls twitch, and then the rest of his penis as his cum spilled inside of me. 

We were both panting and trying to regain consciousness, still overwhelmed by the orgasm that we’d both experienced.

“Hosea… oh… Hosea,” I whispered, simply laying there and enjoying the warmth of him. I felt him press a kiss to my neck, sighing contently. 

“You did so good, dove,” he murmured, snuggling close to me. 

“You took such good care of me,” I whispered back, glad we were on top of the blankets because it had become so hot inside. I was fairly certain we’d fogged up the window. 

“Had to prove Micah wrong, the bastard.”

I laughed, shaking my head.

“No talking about Micah after sex, I feel too good to think about him,” I sighed, leaning back to kiss Hosea.

“Well said, my love.”

I could feel him beginning to go soft, and he pulled himself out after a moment. 

Reaching over, he grabbed a cloth, and after a moment I felt the soft fabric between my legs and along my thighs, cleaning me up. 

“If it wasn’t so uncomfortable I’d leave it be, I find it so beautiful when my cum’s all over your thighs. Makes ‘em glisten,” he said, and I could hear that he was smiling. 

“I know. I like seeing my slick on you,” I confessed, looking back to see him raise an eyebrow. It also seemed that he’d cleaned himself up in the process. 

“Well, don’t worry yourself, dove. You can think about it next time you see me wear this.”

He raised the cloth that I’d felt, and my eyes went wide to see it was his neckerchief. He’d done this a few times before, mostly because he’d smirk at me whenever I glanced at it hanging around his neck the next day. 

That being said, he’d obviously wash it after that. 

“You’re so incredibly ridiculous, Hosea.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, putting the rag aside and moving to open our window a little. 

I wasn’t surprised that it was cooler outside than it was in our room. 

I turned over onto my other side, facing him and smiling. 

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to close it?”

“No, you’re just so handsome.”

His face went red, and I giggled as I leaned forward to kiss him. He smiled as I did, pulling me close. He’d rolled onto his back now, and I let my head rest on his chest. 

“I love you very much, dove. I hope you know that,” he muttered, closing his eyes as we both began to grow tired.

“I know. I cherish it more than anything. I love you just as much, and I hope you know that,” I replied, also closing my eyes.

“I do. It’s what keeps me going.”

I felt him kiss the top of my head, and I smiled to myself.

“Goodnight, Hosea.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

—————

When I woke up, it was brighter in the room than usual, and I wasn’t surprised to see that I was alone in bed. 

Hosea always had a hard time staying in bed past 6:30, something about it made him restless. In his place I found a note, and I smiled to myself as I read it. 

Goodmorning, dove.

Go ahead and sleep in, I’ll punch Micah myself if he gives you any crap about it. Whenever you want I can make some coffee, but like I said sleep as long as you need, god knows you need it.

Your husband, 

-Hosea

I smiled and began to sit up, but footsteps and voices outside distracted me. Hosea had left the window open, and I naturally got a bit curious.

“Goodmorning, Arthur.”

“Morning, Hosea. Glad it’s a good one for you.”

“Oh come on, what’s so bad about this morning?” Hosea asked, and I could hear it clear in his voice that he was teasing. It seemed we’d both heard Arthur get up last night. 

“Don’t play stupid with me, old man. You know perfectly well what you two did, loud as shit goin’ on for at least an hour. I thought you two would shut up and you never did, had to get up and leave because I couldn’t take it anymore.”

I heard Hosea laugh, and quite loudly too. 

“It’s not funny!”

“Oh Arthur, don’t let me hear you say it made you uncomfortable,” Hosea jested, still laughing to himself.

“You know me, Hosea, I’ve had my share of women and I know you’ve had yours, but Jesus I never wanted to hear it. You two couldn’t have been any quieter?”

More chuckling.

“I’m afraid not, Arthur. Take up all complaints with Miss Grimshaw.”

“I most certainly will!”

Now they both laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. 

As practically the only steady relationship in camp, it wasn’t the first time we’d been overheard, but Hosea had never made a scene of it. To him, why should he be ashamed? No, to him our sounds were those of affection and it wasn’t something to be ashamed of. 

“Jesus, she gave you those?”

“I gave her two for every one she gave me.”

They were quiet for a moment, and I thought perhaps Arthur had waved him off, but they spoke up again.

“Bet you wish she’d fight Micah more often now, don’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

“What’d he even say to her?”

“Said I kept her up all night with my coughing and wheezing, and that she should ‘be with a man that can still fire his gun’. Maybe you can go and tell him it’s not the coughing and wheezing keeping her up, and that my gun still fires perfectly fine.”

“Will do, Hosea. Will do.”

[unnerving-presence]

What Would bubba, Michael, and Danny do if they saw there S/O get fat shamed by other survivors, and there S/o just says "it's... okay I'm used to it._

no cause i love meg and david and all but i can’t help but think they’d probably be assholes if you weren’t fit like them. well david is canonically an asshole according to the devs so

TW: Gore/Blood, Canon-Typical Violence

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Bubba Sawyer:

“Are those jeans ripped because your fatass couldn’t fit in them? Maybe if you actually tried running from the killer more you’d get a work out and lose some weight.”

Why would David say that about you? You didn’t even do anything to them!

Bubba immediately goes to grab you from your seat on one of the logs. You are not going to be by them if this is what they say to you. That- not nice person will learn their lesson! For now, he just wants you to know that none of what they said is true.

His hands make his way across your body as he mumbles incomprehensible words. You can’t understand what he’s saying, but you know he’s trying to tell you that you look beautiful. Bubba gets flustered very easily and your body gets him squealing the second his hands touch your thighs.

“It’s alright Bubba, it’s nothing to worry about. You don’t have to make me feel good about myself. I’m used what they say. I promise it’s okay.”

You’re used to it?! Why did you never tell him? Bubba will not tolerate you being insulted, even if you think you can handle their words.

You’d bet Bubba will torment the hell out of whoever thinks they can just say those things about you. He may be a sweetheart, but anger will quickly overtake his usual kind and caring personality he has when he’s around you. If you don’t want to see David’s face being skinned I would recommend looking away. It is not a pretty sight.

He will wear David’s face when picking you up from the campfire, a silent reminder that he is not to be taken as a joke. He may act all kind and caring around you, but Bubba will not hesitate to teach those survivors a lesson when they mess with you.

David doesn’t insult you anymore now that he’s seen your boyfriend wearing his face. It makes him want to hurl every time he sees it. And he does. It makes Bubba smile every time.

Michael Myers:

“Maybe instead of sitting down and waiting for the next trial you can run some laps and lose some weight!”

What. The. Hell. Did. That. Asshole. Just. Say. About. You.

Lucky for Meg, you see Michael standing behind a tree and you quickly make your way over to him before you can break down into tears in-front of the others. Michael understands you want to leave, so he will not act on his urges. Just this once. For you.

Please bear with the death grip he has on your arm paired with his slightly faster walk that has you tripping over your own feet. Michael’s still a bit.. irritated about the fact that anybody would say something like that to you.

Once you’re back at Haddonfield, Michael won’t keep his hands off you, something very out of character knowing him. He’ll even get on his knees to have more access to your thighs and stomach. Is he trying to praise your body?

“You know.. It’s okay Mikey. I’m used to it, really. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

Michael goes out of his comfort zone to try and make you feel better and you want to tell him that he doesn’t have to because you’re used to what they say to you? No. He won’t tolerate this. You are going to know that Michael loves you for you whether you like it or not. He’ll deal with Meg later.

And deals with her he does. She doesn’t even have the chance to get anywhere near you before Michael is grabbing her by the pigtails to throw her into a nearby wall. Hopefully you aren’t watching as he pries her jaw open and tears her tongue out of her mouth, only to be replaced by his beloved kitchen knife. Nobody talks about Michael’s baby like that >:(

Meg will try to say something again, thinking she can only be hurt in trials, but Michael won’t hesitate to prove her wrong. Don’t worry, she stops after Michael picked her up by the ankle and threw her in the fire after he heard her try to make another snarky comment. Everybody was shocked, even you. The message was clear: Don’t mess with Michael’s s/o.

Danny Johnson:

“Good thing we don’t have food in this realm or else this fat bitch would’ve eaten it all already.”

Excuse him? What did that son of a bitch just say to you? If you tell him you just want to leave and don’t want to stay any longer, he will, like Michael leave and resist the urge to stab that dumb whore in her face. She’s lucky what you say matters to him.

As soon as you’re far away enough from the campfire Danny’s already grabbing your face and turning you towards him. You know he wants an explanation. He wants to know why they would say something like that to you.

“It was really nothing! I’m used to it at this point. It’s nothing to worry about, I swear.”

Used to it?! No. No. This is not something that is going to keep going on. Danny will not allow you to think of yourself as anything other than beautiful. That bastard will learn that they’re nothing compared to you. You wanna say something about it? Oh he’ll pretend to listen and he’ll say he won’t, but he will anyways. He will not let you deal with that under any circumstances.

If you wanted him to not do anything, don’t be mad at him but.. he sorta embarrassed the hell out of speedy bitch. If you ever get your hands on his camera, you’ll see various pictures of Danny pushing her face in mud, forcing them to eat rotting flesh, making her choke on their own blood in the background while he’s holding up a peace sign. There’s a lot. Sorry babe but she deserved it!

It’s guaranteed that if any other killer is around stalking you and the others at the campfire, you might just hear them laugh a bit. Danny may or may not have shown the pictures to the killers and they may or may not hate Meg aswell so it’s really a win for everybody. Except for her of course. She’s trying to cover her face out of humiliation as the other survivors tease her about it too.

[nojey]

reminiscing (fans 2)

dreamwastaken x streamer!reader

genre: angst pronouns: they / them word count: 2.1k warning(s): failed relationship, cursing

fans (part 1)

synopsis: after taking 6 months off from social media, you finally explain to your fans why you took so long and why you needed it.

go live. *click*

you watched as your chat strolled in and viewer count go up. your computer screen illuminating your face in the dark room as your webcam caught the nervous look. you were shaking your leg up and down, a habit you caught whenever you tried to calm yourself down. 

“hi everyone, it’s been a while since my last stream, huh?” you dryly chuckled. “it’s been about.. 6 months since i last streamed and at this point i think i’ve taken enough time to correctly word how i’m going to tell everyone why i decided to take a break from streaming.” you said looking down at the ground and fiddling with your fingers.

“uh, donation notifications will be off for this stream and chat will be on emotes only because i really just want to focus on getting this out. but if you plan on donating, thank you so much, really, it means the world to me.” you said finally looking at your webcam and smiling a bit. you read a chat and answer, “yes, i’m doing okay. i just have a big announcement i want to say after i tell you guys why i took a break.”

you took a deep breath in and started. “ over a year ago, almost 2, i met this guy through a friend and we started talking. it was very little at the beginning but as little as it was, his texts always made me smile.” you scratched the back of your neck. “and as time went on, we started talking more and more and he just became part of my daily routine. when i woke up i’d see a good morning text from him, we’d spend most of our day being on the phone with each other, i was even on facetime with him most of my streams but i had an airpod under my headset so you couldn’t really see it, i almost always fell asleep on facetime with him. i really fell for this guy.” you fondly smiled, looking at your desk, where your phone used to be propped up and you would see clays face just looking at you.

“then we started streaming together. ‘omg he’s a streamer too’ yeah, and a lot of you probably know who i’m talking about at this point but i still won’t disclose who it is. i uh, got a lot of messages from you guys telling me that i looked super happy that stream and i was. i was always happy when i talked to him. but along with those messages i also got a lot of hate, telling me to stay away from him. it didn’t really bother me because i always get hate when i stream with my guy friends; i was used to it.” you said, taking a sip from your water then wiping the side of your eye as it teared up. 

“and today... i’ll be going on the dream smp! with the man himself, dream. dream, say hi now.” you introduced, you waited a few seconds but was only met with silence. you grabbed your phone and sent him a voice message, “clay! you’re on deafen! introduce yourself!” you screamed into your phone. dream then took himself off deafen and said. “hi (y/s/n)’s chat! i’m dream, i’ll be showing (y/n) around the smp today and we’re gonna get started on their house.” you smiled fondly when you heard him speak. “yeah! what dream said!” 

so you both logged into the dream smp, said hi to sapnap, and dream gave you a tour. you then started building your house in a forest, quite far from everyone else, “i don’t want anyone bothering you or ruining your house when you’re not on.” he explained. you told dream you wanted to build a cottage so if anyone does end up stumbling upon it, it looks welcoming to them. so dream started building your house for you even though you insisted you do it together. “dream! let me help, this is supposed to be my house.” you dragged. “well we can both decorate inside and make it our house.” you started blushing. “i guess..” you mumbled. you then started adventuring out to look for flowers and some things to decorate the house with.

you started placing flowers down into flower pots when you noticed something. “dream there’s only one bedroom.” you mentioned. he slowly turned around to look at you and quickly turned back and placed two beds next to each other. “this is our room, dumbass.”

later that night you checked your twitter dms and saw many people telling you to stop talking to dream and that you weren’t good enough to even know him. you sighed and powered down your phone.

“i think a few weeks after that he asked me if i could fly out to him and we’d meet in person. i was so excited i immediately started packing and i met him. it was amazing! i got to meet the guy i’ve been in love with for the past few months. i think it may have been a year already. but yeah, i finally got to meet him and being in his arms was the best feeling in the world, i felt so safe being with him.”

“it was the day after that, when he asked me on a date and i, of course, said yes. like who would say no to the person they fell in love with... so we went on a date and at the end of it we were just sitting on top of the hood of the car, eating dinner, watching the sunset and talking about a future we wanted together. and it may seem like we were moving fast but i knew 7 months into talking to him that he felt the same way about me. no matter if either of us disclosed it. i could tell and i knew he knew the same about me. then i went home and everything was perfect, i wasn’t his girlfriend yet though because we wanted to wait a bit.”

“that’s when everything went downhill, i think” you looked up to try to stop the tears from going down your face, but they fell anyways so you just let it be.

“we started streaming more and more and i started getting more hate than i usually got, this time getting death threats, people threatening to leak my address if i didn’t stop being friends with him. it was crazy but i was willing to endure it all for him. who cares what people on the internet are going to say to me? i really didn’t because i was happy enough with him that, that happiness overcame whatever type of hate i was getting.” tears kept falling from your eyes but you didn’t bother to wipe it, knowing it would just keep happening.

“dude you’re so annoying! you definitely cheated!” you screamed as you died. through your headset you could hear clay wheezing. “there was no way i was cheating!” he said through his laughs. “ask my chat, they saw the whole thing.” you breathed out, not wanting to believe him till a dono was sent to you, “yeah, (y/n) you just suck at this game,” you gasped, your jaw hanging then you started pouting. it was clipped and one of your viewers sent it to dream. he suddenly started laughing harder and you asked him why he was laughing, with a pout still on your face. “even your chat knows i didn’t cheat!” you started laughing too, till you read a message in the chat saying, “ew, their laugh is ugly. i don’t know why dream likes them.” you stopped laughing but kept a fake smile on your face.

“then he called me and he told me that he didn’t think we should be dating anymore, or even be friends. and i think it was because he saw the hate i was getting and he didn’t like that. he told me a different reason as to why he didn’t think we should date anymore but i didn’t believe it, but i let him go. because i was not going to force him to be with me if he really did mean it. “ you said, sniffling after so you didn’t sound too congested as you spoke.

after you hung up, you curled into a ball and cried. you cried, and cried, and cried. the feeling in your chest hurting more than you could ever imagine. you just lost the guy you wanted to marry, the guy you had spent over a year going to because of your problems, the guys you saw having kids with, the guy that made everything worth it. he was the only person on your mind as the pain in your chest grew. you tweeted and powered your phone off straight after. you didn’t want anyone messaging you asking what was wrong, knowing your friends they would do that. 

“so the reason i took a break from streaming was because of that. because i resented the people that sent me hate so much i couldn’t bring myself to stream. i didn’t resent them because they sent me hate. i resent them because the hate they sent me caused the guy i really wanted to be with to make me believe he didn’t love me like i love him.” now, you were sobbing, letting your cry’s out because you had been holding them in for too long. 

it had been a few months and you were on snapchat, seeing that you had a memory a year ago today, you checked it. “i think i literally met my soulmate.” with a picture of you and clay in a discord call. your breath got caught in your throat and your breathing became labored. your eyes started stinging as the tears started falling. it’s happening again, all the pain from the day you stopped talking to him came back and once again, you were crying into your hands and you couldn’t stop.

“i had always known that becoming a streamer i would get hate, but i never thought that i would get enough hate to prevent a relationship i really wanted to work. now all i do is reminisce of a guy i wish could be mine”

“streaming has brought me so many opportunities and i am so grateful for everything you guys have done for me, and for me to be able to do something i love and make money from it is insane to me. you guys have given me everything i ever wanted in life up until that point and i am so grateful and appreciative of that. you guys gave me friendships that i will never lose and never forget. so many of you have told me that i’ve saved you and changed your lives but trust me when i say you guys have saved me and changed my life too. i hope i repaid you back by making you smile, being your comfort streamer, and being a support system for each of you. but i think this is my end of the road. i fucking love streaming, i love you guys. but every time i click that “go live” button or even try to, all i think about is him and that’s too painful for me right now. maybe in the future i’ll find my way back here but i can’t promise that.”

“thank you guys, so, so, so, so, much for every single opportunity given to me, for everything. i love you all. my dms are still open. and this was (y/s/n), signing off for possibly the last time. goodbye everyone.”

end stream. *click*

a tear rolling down his face and falling onto his keyboard as he watched you finally say goodbye to your stream. it all just felt like you were saying your last goodbye to him again. 

for the last 6 months all clay could do was think about you and how he wished he just messaged you and told you he was sorry and didn’t mean what he said. that he misses you and he would quit streaming if that meant he could be with you. that all he wanted was to feel you in his arms again and just live out the future you two planned together. 

but if you just said goodbye to your chat for your last stream because you couldn’t stand the thought of him whenever you tried to stream. how could you ever forgive him?

the thought of never speaking to you hit him once more and again, he cried, sobbed, screamed, threw things, and even then, he knew.. you would never be coming back to him, with every fiber in his being, wishing you would.

—————

taglist: @loxbbg @bozowrites @noahsfag @sparklykeylime @bi-narystars @axths @cheybaee @letsloveimagines @meatte @julesamen21 @classyunknownlover @bad268 @strawbrinkofdeath

[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together: 13

A/N: Because of the log off day, I didn’t post it yesterday. I couldn’t resist writing some fluffy smutty scene before the whole event! Hope you like it :)

The night before ‘Hands higher, chin up. Come on, we’ve been through this’ Loki sternly said.

You sighed, all this training was becoming exhausted. You made some great improvement. If you weren’t leaving any time soon, you would even get Steve’s approval to actively engage in battles during the mission. It would be a great benefit to the team, especially to Clint who always got shot somehow.

‘Loki, I’m exhausted’ you complained.

‘Good’ he said. Suddenly his arm came swinging for you head. You dodged the attack just in time.

‘What the hell?!’ you growled.

‘Fight me’ he said.

He went down and sweeped your legs out from under you. You fell down on your back. Loki was smiling smugly above you. You immediately got up and took your fighting stance. Loki quickly advanced towards you, attacking you with a series of blows. You blocked each of them. He upped the pace but you were able to keep up.

When you had enough you decided to attack him instead. But he dodged your attack, grabbed your wrist, and pulled it downwards, making you land on your stomach. He sat down on your back and pulled one arm behind your back. Completely out of breath you gave in.

‘This really wasn’t fair’ you grumbled.

He just chuckled ‘Fights rarely are. Plus, I quite like your helpless underneath me’

‘I hate you’ you said.

‘That’s a lie’ Loki mused.

‘Can you get off?’ you asked.

‘Why would I do that, when I can do this?’ he said, starting to tickle your sides. You started to laugh and squirm underneath him.

‘Please, please… I surrender’ you panted.

‘Hmm.. just this once then’ Loki said while he got off you. You rolled on your back and took his hand. When he pulled you up he put an arm around your neck and kissed you.

‘You are annoying’ you laughed when he broke the kiss.

‘I learned from the best’ he winked at you.

You rolled your eyes. ‘We’re done for today, right? I’m going to take a shower’ you said.

‘Just by yourself?’ Loki asked playfully.

‘Yes, just by myself. You don’t deserve to be showering with me after annoying me’ you answered.

He feigned to be extremely insulted. Just when you were about to leave you felt a force pull you back against his chest. You wanted to protest, but when you blinked you were naked in the bathroom with Loki. The shower was already running, filling the room with steam.

‘No, you’re not’ he mused.

‘I’m too exhausted to even protest’ you complained. Loki just laughed and pulled the shower curtain to the side. You got under the lukewarm water, one of the reasons you didn’t like to shower with him. You liked the water extremely hot and if it was up to Loki the water would be ice cold. After some discussion you decided on lukewarm as a compromise. But that was the only complaint you had, the other aspects of showering with Loki you quite enjoyed.

When you were standing under the water Loki stood immediately behind you. His hands were already exploring every inch of you body.

‘Like I said impossible’ you said, trying not to show how much his touch already affected you.

‘It’s not my fault that you look ravishing while training. This is really your own fault, darling’ he whispered seductively.

His hands wandered from your throat to your breasts. Slowly massaging them you felt his cock erect against your backside. He stepped closer and you felt his breath against your ear. He chuckled when he heard you whimper. His hands trailed downwards over you stomach to your thighs. He slowly stroked your thighs and pushed you harder against him by your hips. With one finger he stroked your clit and felt the wetness between your thighs. You moaned lowly and let him play with you for a while.

He grabbed your hair and pushed your upper body against the wall. You put your hands beside yourself against the wall. He grabbed his cock and pumped a few times. He lined it up with your entrance and slowly entered you. He deliberately took his time while you were panting and squirming against the wall. He tightened his grip on your hair to hold you in place. Once he filled you up he started to rock his hips back and forth. Making you moan his name when he hit your g-spot.

‘That’s right, kitten. Purr for me’ he whispered in your ear.

He kissed your neck and marked you with his teeth, which made you hiss in pain. He sped up his pace when you did.

‘You’re so pretty with my cock inside of you. Unable to do anything else than take pleasure from it’ he continued.

‘Tonight, I think I’m going to do something we haven’t done for a while. I’ll cuff you to the bed while I edge you over and over again. Until the only thing you can think about is my cock’ he growled.

‘Once you can’t think straight anymore I’m going to make you come, repeatedly. Until you beg me to stop. I’m going to ignore you, until I’m finished playing with you. Then I will fuck you one more time’ he went on.

When his fingers started to play with your clit you were done for. You came hard clenching around his cock. Loki followed you and groaned your name loudly, the whole tower might have heard. Both of you were panting, he pumped in and out of you a few more times before retracting completely.

You got off the wall and turned around to face him. He immediately grabbed you for a deep kiss. His tongue slid inside of your mouth, slowly circling your own tongue. When he broke the kiss he had you gasping for air.

‘So, did the dirty talk work?’ he smirked knowing exactly that it had.

You blushed and were unable to meet his gaze. He grabbed your chin and made you look up at him.

‘Darling, whatever is going to happen tomorrow.. know that I truly love you’ he said seriously. You looked in his beautiful eyes that showed nothing but affection.

‘I love you too’ you whispered. ‘And yes, the dirty talk definitely worked’ you added.

‘Oh, but it wasn’t just talk’ Loki said while showing you a devilish grin. ‘It was a promise’ he growled before kissing you again.

The next morning you were definitely exhausted. Neither of the two of you had gotten much sleep. Loki has kept his promise, he had edged you, overstimulated you and once you couldn’t think anymore, fucked you again. You had loved every second of it. The whole team had breakfast together and started to talk about the last details. Tonight, was the night that Loki would ‘die’. You were nervous, hoping he could manipulate the Hulk into thinking he was actually dead. You wanted to be by his side during this, but he refused.

In fact, you were the only one who wasn’t involved in the plan. On that bit Loki had insisted. You would come outside after everyone knew he was ‘death’. Thor would take Loki’s body and you through the Bifrost to Asgard for his funeral. Thanos wouldn’t be bothered after that. Once in Asgard the two of you would go to a planet called Sakaar. You had argued, you could help tonight. But since you were coming with Loki, he had made you promise to at least stay out of this fight. After pushing him to come with him, you decided to let him have this one. Once the two of you were secure, the team would start to make a plan to kill Thanos. Loki and you would check in every other month on Asgard and help as much as you could.

Permanent taglist: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theestorm @theaudacitytowrite

Series taglist: @l0nelyasian @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @ragweed98​ @thehornytitties​ @oh-my-gerd​ @morganmofresh​ @saiyanstars​ @rahne85​ @charistory​ @not-your-bitch​ @kamrynnnnn​ @kokinu09​

[stolen-pen-name23]

how about #12 “it reminded me of you” with obi wan and satine ✨

Hey girlie!!! Thanks so much for the prompt, you know I have fun with these two! From these prompts/prompts now closed

Read on Ao3

Here ya go!

---

In every way, the forest felt enchanted, like the ones from the stories Obi-Wan was told as a youngling.

The sun’s stubborn beams broke their way through the dense forest canopy, allowing their light to shine on Satine every once in a while. For a brief, glimmering moment, the sunbeams turned blonde hair golden and Obi-Wan could not help but let his eyes be drawn to it.

For a moment he could forget that he was not here for some retreat or vacation, but rather, a mission.

Yes, a mission. He glanced over at Satine who walked in front of him like it was her mission and not his. Obi-Wan swallowed his pride and allowed himself this brief moment of peace.

For now, they were unaccompanied — left alone together to fend for themselves in the woods while Qui-Gon went the long way around to meet them at the rendezvous.

Obi-Wan was grateful to his Master for taking the bounty hunters on a wild goose chase far away from them. It meant that for now, the young Jedi and Duchess were safe — or as safe as anyone could be while they were on the run.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and sank back into the Force. It was so alive here. Obi-Wan was never and would never be as in-tune with the Living Force as his Master, but right now, in the middle of this lush and thriving forest, Obi-Wan could feel it pulse around and through him, harmonizing with his beating heart.

Satine seemed to sense his lighthearted mood.

“What has you so lively this morning?” she asked turning around to face him. The sunlight danced on her curls when she turned her head like that and Obi-Wan tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

“Must I have cause to be cheerful?”

“Seeing as you so rarely are, yes, you do. Now, what is it?”

Obi-Wan smiled. “This place… it’s nice.”

Satine frowned. “This forest? This hot, muggy forest? That’s what it takes to make you smile? A miserable environment?”

“It is not miserable,” he said defensively. “You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Try me.”

“I can… I can feel the life flowing through everything around us and it… I don’t know,” Obi-Wan was starting to feel rather stupid in his explanation. His cheeks flushed at the rare outpouring of emotion.

Satine, however, seemed unphased.

“Believe me, Jedi, I do not wish to be one of your kind,” she started, “but sometimes I wish I could see the world the way you saw it. Feel it the way you feel it. Just for a day.”

“I think that would be rather cruel,” Obi-Wan said.

“To be a Jedi for a day?”

“To have the Force for a day, only to have it ripped from you. It would be like someone gouging out your eyes and cutting off your ears all at once. I would not wish it upon my enemies.”

“Very well then, I take it back. I’ll continue on in my ignorance,” Satine smirked at him.

Obi-Wan shook off her remarks and they continued on their path, Satine still in the lead.

The forest was hot and muggy, Obi-Wan realized and he silently cursed Satine for pointing it out. Sweat coated his skin and his clothing stuck to him uncomfortably, but even that could hardly dampen his spirits.

Lost in his thoughts and in the swells of the Force, Obi-Wan startled when Satine stopped and let out a soft gasp.

Obi-Wan snapped to attention and looked to her. “What is it, Duchess?” His fingers grazed his lightsaber.

“Look!” she said, excitement of her own now lilting her voice upwards.

Obi-Wan stepped beside her and laid eyes on what caused her to gasp. The forest before them was blanketed it bright blue butterflies. Every trunk, every branch, every fallen log. The ground, the leaves, the mushrooms that plumed like clouds from the earth, all of it was covered by the winged insects.

Perhaps this is what was causing his lighthearted mood. Hundreds, thousands, of pure Force signatures pulsing and existing so close to him. “They must be migrating,” Obi-Wan whispered.

Wings opened and closed, some slow, some fast, some not at all. Some of the butterflies took flight, only to settle in with a different horde of its brethren. Obi-Wan turned to Satine and realized her eyes matched the color of the butterfly wings.

As though she could feel him staring at her, she turned to him. “What is it?”

“Do you wish to know how I see them?” he asked shyly.

“What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked me why I was so happy. It was because of this. Because of all the life in the Force. Every living thing has its own Force signature that is uniquely theirs. I see them differently from you.”

“How do you see them then?”

“Well, as all living things are, they are unique from one another, and yet, there is a uniformity between them. They migrate together and I can see the connections between them,” Obi-Wan began. Satine was staring at the butterflies, but she was nodding her head along with him. He took it as permission to continue.

“It’s almost as if the air between them ripples with their shared connection, but not in a way that distorts my vision. And it is only if I’m actually looking for it, if I were not allowing myself to sink deeper into the Force, then I would not see it exactly this way.

“Their signatures pulse at their own unique pace, some faster, some slower. Some of them have their own color. It varies from butterfly to butterfly, but it’s… well it’s beautiful.”

“And every living thing has one? A Force signature you called it?” Satine asked.

“Yes, everything.”

“And you see everything like that?”

“If I choose to. I can filter it out if it’s overwhelming.”

“How do you see me?”

Obi-Wan paused and he faltered. How could he describe how he saw her? No poet nor scribe could assign words to it, and Obi-Wan could hardly call himself either one of those.

“I don’t know… you’re, well,” Obi-Wan stuttered.

Satine put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, taking his hesitance for some sort of insult.

“How do you see me, Padawan Kenobi?” she said again.

“You’re golden,” he finally spluttered out. “You… you glow. Not like a Force-sensitive does, it’s different from that, but you glow brighter than most sentient life forms and it’s… enchanting.”

He flushed and looked away from her.

Enchanting? Did I really just use the word enchanting to describe her? Come on, Kenobi, what are you thinking?

Hardly a poet indeed.

“Enchanting?”

“Yes,” he cringed. “I… couldn’t think of a better word.”

Satine laughed, but there was no cruelty in it. “It is a fine enough word, though it is quite cliché,” she said. “I wish I could see you in the way you see me.”

“But you do see me,” he said. “Not like a Jedi, no. Maybe because you aren’t a Jedi. I don’t know, but you make me feel seen.”

Oh, he really was dipping into clichés now, wasn’t he?

This time Satine blushed. She turned her face further away from him and stared at the butterflies.

All at once, the butterflies took off — a curtain of blue interrupting the greens and browns of the forest. To Obi-Wan, the air shimmered with their individual signatures. It was as mesmerizing as it was dizzying, and Obi-Wan had to take a brief moment to look away.

“Are you all right?” Satine asked.

“Yes, Duchess,” Obi-Wan said, though he found looking at her to be even more dizzying. “I’m quite all right.”

Together, they stood and watched the butterflies flutter away until not even one remained.

The butterflies were gone and Obi-Wan and Satine kept moving forward.

***

10 Years Later

Obi-Wan strode down the ramp of his ship with a confidence he did not truly feel. Obi-Wan had always been good at faking it until he made it and now was no exception.

The corners of the rectangular box he held in his robe poked at him, but he ignored it.

“Master Kenobi,” Satine’s musical voice rang out. “A pleasure it is to see you on Mandalore once again.”

“A pleasure it is to visit, Duchess.”

“Come, I have much to show you before we head to the senatorial dinner.”

As promised, Satine showed him the new school she had built for the children of refugees. She showed him the new fine arts center and the library in all of its glory.

At the dinner, they sat beside one another, trading glances only they would understand the meaning of. Satine and Obi-Wan managed to get through it without offending any of the off-world politicians — a new record for them.

They allowed themselves a night together. Just one night. A moment of indulgence for two people who sacrificed everything for duty.

But morning came as it always did and the new day signaled the end of their short-lived escape.

Once again, they found themselves standing in front of the ramp of his ship, exchanging barbs and banter that would have been insulting to anyone else. But this was him and this was her and they had their own way of communicating.

Obi-Wan was about to offer his goodbyes before he remembered the rectangular box inside his robes.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I saw this on Pantora and… well… it reminded me of you.”

Obi-Wan handed her the box and she opened it gently. Inside, a delicate chain held the silver figure of a butterfly.

“Like all those years ago,” Satine said softly.

“Exactly.”

“It’s beautiful, Obi-Wan,” Satine said, looking at the necklace reverently.

“You like it?”

“Yes,” she said. She locked eyes with him and gave him a grin. “It’s… enchanting.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “You’re never going to let that one go, are you, Duchess?”

“Not in this lifetime, my dear Jedi,” she smiled mischievously. Gently she pulled the silver chain out of the box and began opening the clasp.

“Let me,” Obi-Wan said, and to his surprise, she did. He stood behind her and worked the clasp. He tried not to get caught up in the curve of her neck or the smell of her hair and focused on the task at hand.

“Can you not stay for just one more day?” Satine asked softly, just as the clasp snapped shut.

Obi-Wan sighed. If she had asked him before he would have said yes. But now…

“I must return to my Padawan, he is not pleased that I left him alone to his studies while I am off traipsing from planet to planet, surely having a better time than he,” Obi-Wan said rueful smile. He wanted to stay, but they both had their responsibilities. She knew that as well as he did.

“Right. I do not wish to keep you from him,” Satine said. Obi-Wan knew she understood, but he felt the melancholy of his departure as much as she did. “Until next time, Master Kenobi.”

“Until next time, Duchess Kryze.”

Obi-Wan allowed himself one last look at her before he turned around to leave.

The necklace glinted in the sunlight, but Obi-Wan paid it no mind. Its metallic glow was a shadow in comparison to hers, and her glow was all he cared to see.

[ruby-whistler]

maybe sometimes, i should opt for not having thoughts.

have a heavy angst rivalsduo one-shot! i enjoyed writing this, and it came out pretty good, so let's hope i can instil the same feeling of dread i had in you as well :]

tws // death, injury, implied past torture, trauma

Dream’s sight traces over the edges of the looming monster; its dark silhouette casts a long shadow, but he doesn’t mind. The sun hasn’t reached his eyes in a long time, and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to see it, just breathing, surviving, remaining in his place.

The look on his face is blank, and he stares in the eye of a storm with sirens as an eternal thunder echoing through the world, shrieking tones softened by the blowing grass.

“I got you out,” Techno speaks, voice curt and as empty as the other’s glare; too much has happened to recount in anything but silence, and in a sense, they both understand. “I said I would help you escape, and I did.”

Dream hums quietly in response, bloodied bandages untied and flailing with the wind. He’s weak, despite the gapples Techno has given him. Some damage is too difficult to repair, too complicated, in the worst sense possible, to forgive the sting of its cruelty.

Techno trails the scar drawing under his hair, feels his skull shattered and sewn back together, because one time was not enough, and the world is still delivering the bitterness of his mistakes with a dizzying headache when the light hit his eyes too loud, when the world spins in all its colors and the birds sing a song that only makes the chanting more unbearable.

True misery, a sign something might be beyond repair, Techno thinks, is when what was once light and sweet and beautiful, ends up nothing but an agonising cacophony.

The symphony is quiet.

The sun doesn’t set, yet, because the day is too long to be over - because the story isn’t done yet. His hands feel like they only move on strings, and he ponders; if not this - and this doesn’t feel like it, it feels like they’ve never been further away from it - what is freedom?

Dream wouldn’t know, but Techno thinks back to the world he had built, now compromised by the man in front of him, and he, guilt caught like a rock in his throat; feels regret.

For once in his life, everything was working. His family was safe, there were people he could trust that found a home under the Syndicate’s wings, waiting for him back in the arctic.

Dream, even if simply imagined, sticks out of place like a sore thumb. He is the opposite of safety, the opposite of home. He has nothing, he is lost, and the world will do anything to stop him from finding himself.

Anything, including destroying the smallest of possibilities.

A heavy feeling sets in Techno’s chest as he meets the other’s eye, and perhaps he’s going crazy, but in the silence, he realizes Dream is thinking the same.

It’s not a look of relief; grief is plastered over the man’s scarred features, drowned in hair the color of hazel wood. He had never seen him this pale before; everything about him was faded. Perhaps that was one of the things one can never get back, or perhaps the sun would find him pitiful enough at last to make him brighter; but in the arctic, the sun was cold.

Techno takes a deep breath, and it feels like he’s breathing something else than the warm air radiating off of smouldering lava for the first time in his life.

“Let’s get you home, Dream.”

He turns around, hesitantly urgent to be breaking the still air, and pulls Dream by the sleeve as he does; he wonders how long the fragile prisoner will last before he has to carry him the rest of the way to a place that had once been Techno’s, now a sanctuary for what is broken.

“No.”

Techno pauses, and another voice - not the ones that scream for blood, it’s clearer and singular, says - this is your fault. Guilting him for feeling, for thinking, because surely he wished Dream’s resistance into reality, because why else would he refuse?

The irrational thought is blown over by a wave of cold that rushes through his mind as he lets go of the torn linen.

“You can’t take me back to your place. Quackity has already tried to kill you twice, I won’t let myself be responsible for you losing a life after everything you’ve done for me.”

Dream looks up at him, and his voice is strained, every word forced out with power neither of them knew he had. It glints in his eyes like a diamond sword in the chest of a man destroyed by what he created, like a glass shard tearing through the heart of a fallen dictator.

Shaking but determined, holding back a scream behind his clenched teeth while the wind blows through his loose clothing, he continues. “I’m not going with you, I’ll find... somewhere else.”

Techno looks down at him, and for a second, he wonders if he’s ever seen Dream so small.

“And then what?”

Dream is quiet, and Techno thinks can see the look in his eyes; the fear, the resolve, and the unspoken promise of returning, because he knows there is no way to escape fate, not this time.

Dream doesn’t answer him, and Techno glances down at his hands; they’re trembling, like they’re holding back an avalanche. He steps closer, and the man doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away.

“You’re not the only one who’s lost everything,” Techno says, “don’t you think I know what it’s like to be alone?”

“You have a family,” Dream says, “you have a home.”

Techno breathes, realization sharper than his axe’s blade cutting through his brain.

Dream is the first to look away.

The two of them are both shaking, but it’s only the same thing different ways, and Techno thinks can hear Dream’s heart beating, stuttering through the howls of piercing gale.

He turns away, and he doesn’t look back.

“Take care.”

He doesn’t hear steps as he leaves, but it cannot make him more worried than he already is; Dream only needs time.

A traitorous thing called hope says, he’ll come back to you. He’ll return when he’s ready.

The windows on his house are open when he comes back empty-handed, and Techno doesn’t think he’s ever been more cold than that day. He closes the door, closes the windows, and starts a fire.

All his movements are robotic, mechanical.

Philza comes home to find him sitting deathly still on the floor, half-asleep, leaning into Steve’s alabaster fur, the warmth from the fireplace surrounding the two. His eyes flutter open; he shouldn’t be this exhausted, he shouldn’t be freezing when the air he's breathing feels suffocatingly hot.

“How did it go,” and then, “where’s Dream?”

Technoblade nearly speaks up before it catches up to him that he doesn’t know.

He pushes down the guilt, because this is what he wanted; this is what they both wanted. Dream wouldn’t have split off if he didn’t know he could make it.

He thinks back to the shaking figure without enough strength in his legs to run before stumbling over himself, and doesn’t challenge it when the voice calls him a liar.

He doesn’t respond to Philza, either. He stares at the flames for a long time.

He still doesn’t sleep.

Techno is awake because he cannot sleep.

Quackity is not here, and he knows Dream cannot fight like he once did - Dream was weak when he left.

He does not want to think about it.

Dream is gone. It’s in the past.

He takes a deep breath, and his chest expands with the smell of burning logs, eyes flickering with the lights of the fire. Sentimentality he oh so despised fills his lungs, and the swallow’s tune whispers poisonously;

Dream will come back. His smile echoes in pale images of the future.

He nearly faces the darkness for once in a long time, when his communicator buzzes in his pocket.

His stomach sinks, and he shuts it off, but it is too late to unsee.

[ Dream was slain by Sapnap using [Regret] ]

There it is; the choir flares up though his brain in a dissonant requiem.

You left him, and you didn’t even say goodbye.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

i go absolutely feral for h/c where one character gets hurt and you think they are dead and the other character confesses that they love them and then the one dying gasps awake and gets healed and later asks "did you mean it?" and then cuddles and kisses!! bonus points if Geralt is the one confessing to Jaskier🥰🥰

oh babe. do you know what you’ve done? Idk if this is fluffy enough to undo the hurt I’ve caused. even to myself...

Warnings: H/C, drowning, hypothermia, swearing, chest compressions anyone else watch dr mike? 😂😘 its better in the end I promise!

__________

Cold. Every cell in Geralt's body was shocked to the point of pain by how cold the river was. He fought the instinct to gasp even as he was submerged in the freezing, churning current. Forcing his eyes open, he finally remembered why he'd plunged headfirst into a river not one full week into March. 

Jaskier's limp form was being swept away from him beneath the rippling foaming water. 

He managed to kick off a rock and grasp the bard by the wrist before kicking with all he had for the surface. He coughed and sputtered as he hauled them to shore, a cold weight that had nothing to do with the temperature settling in his stomach when Jaskier didn't do the same. 

"Jaskier." Geralt growled as he dragged him all the way up onto the sand before dropping to his knees next to him, "Jaskier!" 

He got no answer. 

His hands shook as they hovered over the bard's chest, the only thing that kept him moving was the too faint and too far apart heartbeat that belonged to the only person he'd ever really loved. His arms worked on their own, crossing one palm over the back of his other hand and pressing down on Jaskier's chest in a steady rhythm. 

He paused for a moment, listening for a stronger heartbeat. 

He heard nothing. 

He worked furiously now, pumping the bard's heart for him, barely keeping from cracking his ribs with the force before he pinched Jaskier's nose to check his airway, "No... No no no no no. No! Jaskier you don't get to die on me like this." 

He pressed down eight more times before sealing his lips to Jaskier's and breathing for him, "Don't you fucking dare leave me." 

He noted there were tears on Jaskier's cheek that couldn’t belong to him with a numb sense of wonder as he pumped his heart for him eight more times. Again, nothing happened when he finished his exhale and pulled away to lean on the bard's heart. And again. And once more. 

"Jaskier, please. I love you. Please don't go." 

He breathed for him again, this time hearing his heartbeat just once on its own. 

Geralt was yelling now, more terrified than he'd ever been in his life, "Damnit Jask! BREATHE! I can't lose you! Please just fucking breathe!"

A sob tore at his throat as he leaned over once more, whispering his plea as his heart crumbled in his chest, "Breathe. I love you, Julek. Please breathe." 

At the end of his exhale he felt something thump against his chest and he reeled backward. 

Jaskier coughed and tried to suck in a breath as his hands dug at the sand in his disorientation. Geralt rolled him onto his side, laughing a little hysterically as tears were still flowing freely down his cheeks, rubbing a soothing hand on his back as he expelled a lungful of water. 

When he tried to sit up Geralt held him down, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes, "Shhh, stay there. You need to lie still." 

Jaskier's eyes finally found him, the fear melting into confusion as he tried to croak out his words, "You're crying." 

Geralt nodded, shivering as his body finally relaxed and let him feel the cold again, "You died." 

"Shit."

Geralt nodded again, feeling weak as he clapped a hand on Jaskier's thigh before rocking up to his knees, "You need to get warm, arms up." 

He scooped his arms under Jaskier's shoulders and knees, almost falling into another fit of sobs when the trembling man wrapped his arms around his neck and held tight. 

His bard was still here. He was alive. 

Geralt walked up the riverbank until he came upon their camp, Roach nickering as they approached. He set Jaskier down as gently as he could and began peeling off his wet clothes. All he could hear, all he wanted to hear, was Jaskier's heartbeat as he worked. Soon Jaskier was dressed and dry and tucked into his bedroll. Geralt haphazardly stacked some logs in a hole in the sand, setting them ablaze before he scooted the bard closer to the flames. 

There was more color in his cheeks but Geralt wasn't satisfied. He dug through their packs and found the kettle and some tea leaves. 

"G-eralt. You're blue." Jaskier's voice was weak and jarring, but as Geralt looked at his hands he realized he was right, "Tea ca-can wait." 

Geralt didn't much care if he stayed this cold for the rest of his life, so long as Jaskier was safe, but his bard looked so worried… 

"Get changed, Geralt. Please. I'm fine."

His upper lip curled back in a snarl, “You’re not fine.”

“Geralt.”

The bard’s usually strong and dulcet voice cracked on his name and Geralt melted. He’d rather get Jaskier to drink something, but he’d do anything never to hear Jaskier sound so desperate and weak ever again. He clenched his jaw and obeyed, wringing his hair out and sitting next to Jaskier and the fire. 

Neither of them spoke for a while, each looking into the fire and worrying about the other. 

As the sun was close to setting, Geralt insisted Jaskier at least eat if he wouldn’t drink tea.

“You’re not warming up.” he grunted, kicking some rocks into the fire to place under his bedroll later. 

“M’not a witcher.” Jaskier offered, a hint of a tired smile on his lips, he untucked himself from the cocoon of bedroll and blankets and held an edge open, “Come here.”

For once, Geralt didn’t hesitate. He slipped into the nest behind the bard, wrapping one arm over his waist and pulling him close while the other became Jaksier’s pillow. His anxious thoughts slowly faded into the background as Jaskier’s heartbeat picked up its pace just like it did every time they shared a bed. It After missing the sound for so long the normalcy and predictability of it was comforting. His eyes finally felt heavy and he was further lulled toward sleep as he nuzzled into the bard’s soft hair, familiar, sweet soaps and oils shutting out all other scents.

He almost didn’t notice when Jaskier whispered, “Did you mean it?”

Geralt pulled him closer, tilting his head to be closer to Jaskier’s ear, “Did I mean what?” he whispered back.

“When-” Jaskier sucked in a shaky breath which he forced out slowly before continuing, “when you said you love me?”

“I did.” There was no point in lying anymore. Geralt had lived two minutes of life without Jaskier and he was too terrified of having to endure any more to worry about what his pride thought. 

“I love you too.” Jaskier turned his head and placed a soft kiss on the inside of Geralt’s elbow before burrowing deeper into his embrace. 

Geralt pressed his lips to his hair, mumbling against his scalp, “Don’t ever leave me.” It was a terrified and heartfelt plea. 

“Never again.”

[criminalmindzjunkie]

I Carry Your Heart With Me (Part One)

masterlist playlist

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Summary: Spencer and the reader are reunited for the first time in fifteen years. 

A/N: Very excited to get the ball rolling on this one. I hope you all enjoy it! Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Damien mutters from the passenger seat, his icy blue eyes wide with fright. He pulls his gaze away just long enough to point at a lone cow grazing to the left of the road. “Look! That cow is just like… standing there. No fence around him or anything. What’s stopping him from stampeding into us the second we get out of this car?”

Damien sounds so genuinely horrified that you almost feel bad for laughing. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Dee. Besides, that cow didn’t even look up when we drove past. We’re not even on its radar.”

“Oh, yeah? Ever heard of a little thing called mad cow disease?” Damien persists, in typical dramatic flair. You roll your eyes at him and he curses underneath his breath. “You know, when I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I pictured something more akin to a five-star resort with a minibar and a heated pool. Not rogue livestock and shitty cellphone reception.”

“You didn’t agree to anything – you practically begged me to take you with me.”

Damien waves his hand, dismissive, his eyes still roaming over the pasture. “Because I wanted an excuse to take a week off work. This is not the controlled environment I expected.”  

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t hesitate to push you out of the car and leave you here with the cow,” you retort. In your periphery you’re able to make out Damien raising his middle finger to you. Rude.

You chuckle and fix your attention back on the dirt road. You’re driving almost painfully slowly, because the very idea of having to pay extra for damages to this already astronomically expensive rental car makes you feel nauseated. Despite your efforts, the car is covered entirely in dust. Its once pristine, white paint job has transformed into a muddy color.

There goes my deposit.

You shake your head at the thought. You had more pressing matters to concern yourself with; i.e., the fact that you were approximately five minutes away from coming face to face with the one person you swore you’d never speak to again. Two months seemed like ample time to prepare yourself in theory, but now that it is no longer some far-off thing, you know that your attempts at preparing yourself were in vain. With each day you crossed off the calendar leading to your departure date, your anxiety grew and grew until you worried your poor heart would give out under the stress. Getting onto the plane bound for Montana felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin, and a hefty dose of Dramamine was the only thing that kept you from spiraling as the plane ascended into the air. You slept through the entirety of the trip and, much to Damien’s chagrin, there is a sizeable puddle of drool on his left shoulder to prove it.

The lengthy nap helped. The tight band constricting your chest had loosened, and you pulled out onto the highway feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. You had Damien by your side and five vacation days to enjoy. Your best friend was getting married to the love of her life, and you were hellbent on standing by her side through it all. Spencer Reid can kiss your ass, as far as you are concerned. No way is he going to ruin this for you.

You are still very much clinging your take-no-shit mentality when you breach a hill and the ranch comes into view, effectively expelling every single positive thought from your head. Aforementioned anxiety reappears in full-force and you stomp down on the breaks.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this,” you squeak out, casting a look at Damien, whose eyes are trained on the sprawling expanse of the house ahead of you. “We can still turn around – no, we should turn around. There is no version of this that won’t end in me getting embarrassingly drunk and crying in front of everyone. I’m turning around.”

Damien’s hand on yours, strong and steady, is the only thing that keeps you from whipping the car around and retreating with your tail between your legs. His fingers pry your white knuckled grip off of the wheel slowly, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles across your skin. Its sweet and so overwhelmingly gentle that you’re a bit stunned. You glance at him in a silent question, as if to ask who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

He gets the message loud and clear, because of course he does. Damien fixes you with a smile, grip tightening on your hand.

“I’ve seen you hold your own against some of the biggest names in journalism on an almost daily basis – looking damn sexy while you do it, might I add,” Damien chuckles, and you can’t help but give a weak laugh of your own. Damien’s smile grows at this, and he continues, “If you can handle your business against those conniving pricks, I’ve no doubt that you can tough it out for this. You’re not the type of woman that lets some guy dictate what she does or doesn’t do. And you sure as hell aren’t the type of woman that would let some guy rob her of the opportunity to stand by her best friend on the most important day of her life. As the person who probably knows you better than anyone else on the planet, my opinion of you is pretty rock-solid, if I do say so myself. So, unless I’ve completely overestimated the extent of your badassery, I suggest you rethink that plan. What do you say?”

You avert your eyes and swallow against the lump in your throat.

“Spencer’s not just some guy. For a long time, I was convinced that he was the guy,” you whisper. The car is silent, save for the quiet crooning voice of George Michael flowing through the speakers. Damien squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. You blink up at him with wet lashes, lips pulled into a sad smile. “Have you ever been in love?”

Damien shakes his head and rubs his thumb along the top of your hand. “I can’t say that I have, babe. Haven’t been that lucky.”

You let out a shaky breath and bring your other hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Maybe you’re better off. I’ve only been in love once,” you gesture to your pitiful appearance and choke out a wet laugh. “Look where that got me. He fucking crushed me, and fifteen years later I’m still broken up about it. It’s pathetic.”

Damien frowns and shifts in his seat so that he’s fully facing you.

“I don’t want to hear you say that self-deprecating shit again. You were hurt by someone you gave your heart to, and I can only imagine how devastating that must feel. Being upset about seeing him again does not make you pathetic. The fact that you’re here, about to spend a week with the guy just so you can be there for Cassidy, is pretty damn admirable as far as I’m concerned.” Damien ends his monologue by pulling you into a tight hug, and you couldn’t be more thankful that he’d come with you. Not only was he a secret sweetheart, he also gave the very best hugs.

By the time he releases you, the tension in your chest has eased significantly. You nod once, and Damien’s rewards you with a smile.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Damien snorts rather unattractively and rolls his eyes.

“I take back everything. You suck, and I don’t know why I bother with you, you narcissist.”

Now that the mood has lifted significantly, you reluctantly press your foot against the gas pedal.

“Too late. No takesies backsies,” you singsong. “You think I’m sexy and badass, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Damien mutters something undoubtably snarky underneath his breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tires. That, and the sound of your blood roaring in your ears as you inch further down the driveway.

The house, a beautiful log cabin with stone accents along the underside, is massive. Standing at two stories tall with a large wraparound porch and more than a dozen large windows, it’s a far cry from the modest little cabin in the mountains that Cassidy had made it out to be. Even Damien is slack jawed at the sight of it, sitting pretty against a back drop of rolling mountains, and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Still want to complain about that five-star resort?”

Damien shakes his head dazedly, “I retract my earlier complaint.”

All too soon, you roll to a stop and put the car in park. Several other cars are parked haphazardly in the grass around you, and that annoying voice inside your head wonders which one belongs to Spencer. It’s not that you care – you totally don’t – it’s just that you are kind of hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. A few hours to acclimate to the environment before having to deal with him would be nice.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Damien murmurs. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, just in case you need a reminder.”

You flash Damien a nervous smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Dee. I’m really glad that you’re here,” you say, before narrowing your eyes at him. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Damien snorts and pushes open the door.

“Get your sassy ass out of the car. I’m ready to mingle.”

As soon as you set foot on the porch, the front door flies open and a flash of curly red hair precedes a collision that nearly sends you flying back into the railing. Ecstatic squeals rip through the otherwise serene evening air and two boney arms envelop you into a tight hug.

“I cannot believe you’re actually here,” Cassidy laughs as she squeezes you tight. Her enthusiasm has you joining in, the two of you laughing happily and pulling back to examine one another. Cassidy places a sloppy kiss to both of your cheeks before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “I fully expected you to just blow off the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

You cast at Damien, who’s watching on with an amused grin on his face.

“Believe me, she tried.”

Cassidy turns her attention to Damien and extends her free hand.

“I take it you’re the infamous Damien that I’ve been trading emails with?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Wait, what? The two of you have been emailing?”

Damien accepts Cassidy’s hand and gives it a firm shake, all while smiling smugly.

“Yep. Me and Ms. Cassidy go way back.”

“I mean, that’s cool, I guess, but why?”

Cassidy and Damien share a look, both of them shrugging.

“Mainly to talk about you,” Cassidy admits, not even bothering to look apologetic. When you frown up at her she waves her hand dismissively at you. “All good things, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cassidy punctuates her words with a patronizing pat on your shoulder.

“I knew letting you two meet was a bad idea,” you grumble.

Cassidy simply drops her arms from its place on your shoulder in favor of tugging on your hand.

“Come on, sour puss. I want you to meet my husband. He’s a real sweetie – you’re gonna love him.”

A flash of white-hot panic shoots down your spine and you dig your heels into the floor.

“Wait,” you squeak out, eyes wide. “Is… Is he here yet?”

Cassidy’s eyes shine mischievously, briefly flitting up to Damien before returning to you.

“He is. And you’ll be happy to know that pictures do not do the Good Doctor any justice.”

Salt, meet wound.

“Don’t know why you’re telling me that,” you mutter.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend,” Cassidy singsongs as she begins tugging you forward. For someone so tiny, she makes easy work of forcing you through the threshold.

The foyer is just as impressive as you expect it to be – beautiful cedar walls and a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. If you weren’t horribly on edge at the current moment, you would definitely comment on the fact that the foyer alone is probably larger than your entire apartment, but you’re too busy scanning the immediate area for tall skinny white guys with stupidly curly brown hair to comment on the grandiosity.

Cassidy leads the two of you to double doors to the right, and just as she’s about to push them open, the shrill ring of your cellphone offers you an out.

You slip your hand from Cassidy’s grip and give her a faux apologetic look.

“I should probably take this – it might be work.”

Damien narrows his eyes at you. “I thought you left your work phone at home.”

You ignore him and begin taking a few steps backwards, “Is there somewhere private I can go?”

An indiscernible look flashes across Cassidy’s face and then her lips pull up into a sugary sweet smile. “Follow the hallway to the very end. Leads to the back porch,” she says. “No need to rush. Take all the time you need!”

Okay, weird, you think to yourself, but the idea of putting off the inevitable for a few extra moments is too tempting to pass up, so you continue your retreat. You make it to the back door in record time and let out a relieved breath as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi, baby. I was just calling to make sure the two of you got there safely.”

You push open the back door and the breathtaking view of the ranch prompts you to take pause; sprawling fields and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, grazing livestock congregating near a lazy stream at the far end of the property, and several horses running across the expanse of the left field. It was wonderfully serene and vastly different from the bustling rat-race that was New York.

You smile to yourself when a loud moo rips through the otherwise quiet ranch. I could get used to this.

“Yeah, we made it,” you murmur into the receiver. “You would love this place, Mom. It’s probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been. I’ll send you a picture when I hang up.”

“How’s Cassidy? Still a little spit-fire, I assume?”

You lean against the railing and let out a snort, “Oh, absolutely. Don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I’d hope not,” your mother hums. “How does Damien like the ranch?”

“He’s not exactly a fan of the livestock,” you chuckle. “Damien’s never even seen a real cow before. City boy through and through, that one.”

You and your mother share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. Comfortable, until the telltale clearing of your mother’s throat warns you of the impending inquisition.

“So,” your mother begins. “Are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to leave an old woman wondering? “

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Fortunately, I have yet to run into him. I may or may not be hiding out on the back porch as we speak in an attempt to avoid just that.”

“Y/N,” your mother chastises. “Prolonging the inevitable isn’t going to make this any easier.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go in there soon. It’s just a lot, you know? I needed to take a breather, first.” Just until my hands stop shaking. Or until Cassidy comes hunting for me. Whichever comes first.

“I know, baby,” your mother coos. “I’m proud of you for trying. Just don’t drag things out, okay? You’ll only make yourself sick with nerves.” Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. The rolling in your stomach can attest to that.

           You laugh a humorless laugh, “I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

           A tiny movement at the very corner of your vision and a loud creak makes you whip your head around, and what you see has your heart falling to your ass.

Spencer Reid, looking absolutely stunning in a pair of khaki dress pants and a white cable-knit sweater, sits in a porch swing with wide eyes and a book clutched tightly in his hands. Soft, caramel-colored curls frame his face and a five o’clock shadow runs the length of his jaw, adding a bit of grown-up flare to his otherwise boyish features.

He looks every bit as beautiful as he did on the day he broke your heart.

--

Spencer knows that he should have spoken up as soon as you walked onto the porch. It was immediately obvious that you hadn’t seen him, and he swears he’s one second away from clearing his throat and launching into the introduction he’d been planning for the last sixty days. But the words die on his tongue as he drinks in the sight of you.

You’re so close to him for the first time in years and it’s more than a little bit dizzying. And yeah, he’s used his very limited knowledge of how the internet works to Google you on more than one occasion, but the version of you leaning against the porch railing is a far cry from the pixelized one. A light breeze rolling through the air lifts your hair away from your face, and Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he surveys every perfect inch, from the curl of your lashes to the smattering of freckles on your nose. He indulges himself, eyes settling on your cherry red lips, fascinated by the way they move as you talk on the phone. Spencer is intimately familiar with those lips – can recall the way they felt pressed against his own. The years spent apart have done nothing to dull the memories. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

It amazes him how you’ve somehow managed to change a lot, but also not at all. You stand before him as an oxymoron personified, and it’s a lot for Spencer’s poor heart to take in. Your hair is a bit lighter than he remembers, as well as a little longer, but it still looks just as soft and he can recall with startling clarity how it felt when he used to run his fingers through it. You have a few more laugh lines than you did, as well as a scar on your left elbow that hadn’t been there before, but everything else about you is so painfully familiar that Spencer could almost pretend that no time had passed – that he still knows your body as well as he once did.

Spencer knows this isn’t true. Every seven years, the body resets; old cells destroyed and replaced with new ones. You’ve both spent enough time apart that your bodies have reset twice over. You’re as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.

Spencer positively abhors the thought.

The sound of your laughter pulls him from the depths of his mind, and while the laugh isn’t warm or inviting in the slightest, he relishes it. What was once one of his favorite sounds has existed in his head as only a memory for far too long. Hearing it in person is jarring in the best of ways.  

The euphoria he feels dies a horrible death when you speak again.

“I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

Fucking ouch.

Spencer cringes hard, too hard, because the porch swing screeches out an angry creak and you whip around and holy shit, have your eyes always been that entrancing?

He watches as your entire body goes rigid, tensed as if you’re about to bolt. You blink hard, eyebrows drawn together to form an adorably bewildered expression as you assess him. Spencer hopes he doesn’t look too disheveled. He hadn’t even thought to freshen up after his trip, an oversight that he’s regretting terribly as your eyes flit over him.

Spencer isn’t sure why, but he stands up. Maybe it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. Maybe he just wants to close the distance. The two steps he takes towards you support the latter. He’s thankful that you don’t move away, but the blank expression on your face worries him.

The two of you stand five feet apart, but you feel worlds away. Spencer refrains from speaking for as long as he can stand, which is only about thirty seconds.

“Hi.”

Your lips part, and Spencer holds his breath.

“Hi.”

More silence. Spencer gulps.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, cautious. The last thing he wants to do is fuck up within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth seem to have some sort of disconnect, and Spencer continues against his better judgment. “It’s been a while.”

It’s been a while? That’s seriously the best I can come up with?

Spencer contemplates drowning himself in the nearby stream.

“It certainly has.”

“Five-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen days.” And roughly thirty-six and a half hours, but who’s counting?

Muted noises flow out of your phone speaker and you pull your eyes away from Spencer. He’s both relieved and devastated.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just ran into someone. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Spencer agonizes over the fact that he’s been reduced to someone while you and your mother exchange goodbyes. You’re smiling when you look up at him again, but Spencer’s seen what a genuine smile of yours looks like, and this isn’t it.

“I didn’t see you sitting there. My apologies.” Your formality makes the situation all the more excruciating.

Spencer lets out a nervous laugh, “I suppose avoiding me is out of the question now, huh?”

It’s hard to tell who’s more horrified by the words that tumble from his mouth, you or Spencer. A fierce flush spreads across your cheeks. It’s the first crack in your otherwise calm and collected exterior thus far and Spencer relishes in it. Maybe you’re not as unaffected by him as you seem.

“I… I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you stammer, blinking up at him with guilty eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say that I’m undeserving of your anger,” Spencer whispers so quietly that he worries you don’t hear him over the gentle flow of the stream. The hardness that returns to your eyes lets him know that you heard every word.

You clear your throat, signaling your unwillingness to discuss that particularly painful topic. “You’re still partial to Cummings, I see.” You gesture to the book clutched tightly against his chest.

Now, it’s Spencer’s turn to blush. The book in his hands, tattered and worn from years of use, is incriminating. The two of you both know what lies just beneath the binding. The fact that Spencer has it with him now makes him think that he might as well be wearing a t-shirt that reads, I’M STILL NOT OVER YOU.

Spencer raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard, I guess.” His eyes scour your face for a sign of anything that might clue him in to you feeling the same way. A flicker of something dances across your face, but it’s gone so quickly that he can’t be sure if he imagined it. He forces a nervous smile. “If I remember correctly, he was your favorite.” It’s a shitty attempt at a joke.

You exhale a shaky breath and to his absolute horror, your lower lip begins to wobble. He wishes he could reach up and pluck his words from where they hang heavy in the air.

“Not anymore,” you murmur, and fuck if that doesn’t absolutely wreck him.

Spencer shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Oh. Why not?”

He holds his breath, anxiously anticipating your next words. You seem to be battling with yourself, mouth opening and closing several times. Spencer is content to wait as long as it takes for you to answer, but the universe is much more impatient than he.

The door leading onto the porch swings open and out walks an honest to God Abercrombie and Fitch model. Or at least, a man who meets the qualifications and then some. Long, flowing blonde hair and a crisp white dress shirt makes Spencer’s unruly brown mop and dumpy sweater look pitiful in comparison. Spencer frowns.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out here for like ten minutes,” the man chastises as he closes the distance between you and him. Spencer watches him wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you to him like someone might watch a car wreck happen; with equal parts horror and morbid curiosity. “You can’t hide out forever.”

All traces of rigidity leave your body and you melt into the man’s side. It happens in such a way that screams familiarity, as if the pet name hadn’t already driven that point home. The awful, gut-wrenching realization slams home and Spencer has to fight to keep his knees from buckling.

“Uh, sorry,” you mumble, before nodding your head in Spencer’s direction. “Damien, this is Spencer Reid.”

The man’s – Damien’s - eyes go almost comically wide as they settle on Spencer’s dejected frame, before schooling into a cool indifference. He offers him a polite smile that’s a little tight around the edges, but doesn’t outstretch his hand.

“Ah, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Spencer swallows hard to keep himself from barking out a crazed laugh. He’s heard of me! That’s certainly something, considering the fact that no one thought it necessary to tell Spencer that you have a –

Spencer’s eyes dart down to your left hand. Thankfully, mercifully, your ring finger is bare.

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” The words burn as they roll off his tongue.

Damien nods at him before turning back to you. There’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at you as he speaks. “Cassidy wants everyone back inside. They’re about to serve dinner.”

You smile up at him, not even casting a parting glance at Spencer before Damien leads you back inside. Spencer stands there long after the door closes behind the two of you.

The book feels heavy in his hands.

-

-

-

-

taglist:  @is-this-even-important @evelyncade @usuck​ @m0rce1ddd​ @bauhousewife​ @whxt-to-write​ @spencerwaltergubler​ @lovesicksofi​ @idgafayiowf​ @shadyladyperfection​ @mercy-burning​ @sapphic-prentiss​ @itsmytimetoodream​  @m0rce1ddd​ @bauhousewife​ @whxt-to-write​ @spencerwaltergubler​  @enchantedcruelsummer​ @no-honey-no​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @tnoh13​ @xxconfettiitsaparade​ @calm-and-doctor​ @muffin-cup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @arcticrory​ @holl2712​@themanwiththreephds @blameitonthenight21​ @stellabelle​ @me-a-hopeless-romantic​ @musicxlover97 @anightflower​ @andiebeaword​ @annesauriol​ @haylaansmi​ 

[90gemini]

Falling Up 🌇 Steve Rogers x Reader AU

Summary: A meet cute on a morning train between pediatric intern Steve and reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: big crowds, just too much fluff ngl

A/N: hope this makes you smile, i really love this AU, might be a part 1 of a whole series:)

Every single morning, as if on cue, approximately two minutes before my train leaves the station near my apartment, I come to the realization that if I do not get into full sprint mode right that second, I will miss my train and then be late to my first class and then have to walk in embarrassed while everyone is already inside and then proceed to feel embarrassed over it the entire day. So, considering the fact that I never seem to make myself leave the house just a few minutes early, for the past three years that I have been going to college, almost every morning I run into the train the last moment before the doors close completely out of breath, and have to subtly work on composing myself much longer than I am comfortable to admit.

Yet today, without even realizing, I got out of my apartment solid seven minutes earlier than usual. My roommate and I were so engaged in our conversation about the events of last nights party so we walked out together still invested in the drama which left me pleasantly surprised with the time I was left to spend before my train leaves after we went our separate ways. The extra time opened a whole lot of opportunities for me, almost made me believe I should wake up earlier every morning and not leave for class at the last possible moment. So, with the 420 extra seconds I got today, I managed to actually dig my earphones out my bag, plug them in and wait for the train with the sounds of my morning playlist filling my mind.

Inside the train, when I wasn’t preoccupied by catching my breath but also, even more importantly, focusing on not making it too obvious I was out of my breath, I became very much aware of my surroundings, noticing everything and everyone around me.

There was a girl sitting down right across from where I was standing, she looked about my age and she held a little baby in her arms, slowly rocking it and I noticed the way she was looking totally spent but the moment her baby made this cute laughing sound, a smile spread on her face completely overshadowing the exhaustion in her eyes. Next to the door was an older woman not so subtly judging everyone who was sitting down and has not offered her to sit and right next to the door was a man sitting down and sleeping like a log. I had the urge to wake him up and ask him when he has to get down or if he has already missed his stop, but in all honesty, it was too early in the morning for me to be considerate like that. While continuing to carelessly look around, my eyes landed on something that opened drawers in my memory I did not even know existed.

It was a book cover. A simple white background featuring a boy with frizzy hair who was flying over a drawn-on city with the words ‘Falling Up’ in the middle. So many moments of my dad reading poems from that book to me before bed when I was a kid came up and instantly forced a smile on my face.

In my head, I started reciting the words to my favorite poem from that book, remembering my dad teaching me how to read with those poems when my eyes fell on the arm holding the book and the man attached to it.

And God, was I thankful for the boosted-up heating in the train this morning because that made him take off his leather jacket and throw it over his arm, leaving only a thin, too tight white shirt to cover his upper body and it worked amazing for me that the shirt wasn’t doing its job well.

I heard the sound of the door opening and saw way too many people try to make their way into the train making it way more crowded which pushed the mystery man to move closer to me. Not as close as I wanted though.

My mind was focused solely on him that at one point I wasn’t even aware what station we were at and have I maybe missed mine, but I found myself not caring at all. The point my eyes landed on his face I was basically addicted. His hair was a gorgeous mess, a bit outgrown but looking so good. And, oh my God, his eyes. I was so upset I am only seeing them under the fluorescent light of the subway because I am positive that it would be an out of body experience seeing them under the sunlight.

At that moment I was sure he was the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on and was already cursing myself because I knew I was too nervous to talk to him and will regret that forever.

His lips would occasionally move into a small, barely noticeable grin while he was reading and every once in a while, his tongue would go over his lips leaving them all full and glistening which led to a whole new set of unholy thoughts entering my brain. And his fingers, the way he flipped over the pages was just so-

‘’May I help you somehow?’’ I was snapped out of my trance by his voice and met his eyes that were looking into mine with the coldest, most unimpressed expression as if he was in front of the most annoying person to ever grace the Earth.

‘’Shit, sorry,’’ I apologized quietly and pulled out one earphone to hear him better because no matter how rude it looks he is going to be right now, his voice was just heavenly. ‘’I zoned out when I saw that book.’’ I pointed to the book in his hand and his eyes followed the direction my finger was showing as if he was surprised I wasn’t staring at him but at the book. I was most definitely staring at him though, but I don’t plan on revealing that. ‘’My dad used to read it to me when I was a kid so just seeing the cover brought back too many memories. Sorry.’’ I said in a soft voice and gave him a forced smile hoping he was not going to talk to me again because I really don’t want to be yelled at by the most attractive man alive at 7.23am on a Tuesday in the subway.

‘’You know this book?’’ his voice broke the short-lived silence between us, making my head snap up to look at him again and I was met with a much softer face adorning an adorable smile. ‘’You must think I’m so weird for reading poetry for children.’’ He let out a small laugh which was, without exaggeration, the greatest sound I have ever heard in my life.

‘’No, I think it’s cute.’’ A sly smirk found its way on my face as I felt my usual confidence come back now that I knew he wasn’t planning on yelling at me.

‘’So, you think I’m cute?’’ The smirk on his lips, on the other hand, was not as subtle as mine was as he turned more towards me, quickly closing the book and focusing his eyes on my face.

‘’I didn’t say one thing about you being cute, I was talking about the book.’’ I lied to keep my cool even though cute truly wasn’t the first word that came to my mind when looking at him. It would be something more in the neighborhood of I-would-drop-on-my-knees-for-you-right-this-momentor whatever.

‘’Okay, so you don’t think I am cute?’’ he leaned closer and licked his lips instantly sending shivers down my spine. This man is too much for me to handle right now.‘’Because I think you are really cute.’’ He whispered loudly enough only for me to hear and moved away a bit to fully appreciate my flustered expression because he obviously was aware of the exact effect he had on me.

‘’Well, I guess you aren’t that bad yourself.’’ The fact that I was not literally falling apart in front of this god cosplaying as a man is still not something I can understand. ‘’And thank you.’’ Saying that my voice got super quiet, and I could see him grin proudly at my reaction.

‘’You are welcome,’’ he didn’t finish that sentence and looked at me asking for my name.

‘’Y/n.’’

‘’Y/n.’’ he repeated and stepped closer to me with an excuse of letting someone else pass and giving them space. ‘’That is a real pretty name.’’ I smiled to say thank you and looked at my feet for a second to get myself together.

I didn’t even run to catch this train yet I’m still out of breath.

‘’I am Steve by the way.’’ He stretched out his free hand in my direction but not for one second broke the eye contact between us. ‘’It’s so nice to meet you, Y/n.’’ God, just to hear him say my name was killing me.

‘’Nice to meet you too, Steve.’’ I connected my hand with his much larger one and was painfully aware of the fact he must have heard the soft sound I made the second my skin first touched his.

‘’So,’’ he continued while slowly pulling his hand from mine. ‘’do you like poetry in general, ‘’he lifted the arm with the book and nodded towards it. ‘’or is it just this one book you like?’’ he asked with so much interest in his voice making me absolutely thrilled he was keeping the conversation going.

‘’I love poetry.’’ I kept my answer short because forming decent sentences was a though job while looking at this man and seeing the way he was looking at me.

‘’What kind?’’ he adjusted in his spot somehow that he was even closer to me, leaving basically no space between us, yet to everyone else it seemed normal because the morning rush in the New York City subway never was famous for the spaciousness.

‘’About love.’’ I said softly and witnessed his expression changing from the cocky, overconfident one he had on, to a completely soft one.

‘’Same here.’’ He replied and as if he can do it on cue, looked even more deeply into my eyes. ‘’I like reading about how people feel things I have never felt, it lets me to feel the emotion without risking being hurt.’’ He confessed to me and I couldn’t believe a guy that has such a hard exterior is ready to share that much emotion after talking to a stranger in a train for only a few minutes. But I was thanking all the gods he was.

‘’That’s much deeper than my reason for loving it.’’ A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at me to continue. ‘’I just like reading about love and watching movies about love and basically everything about love. Makes me feel all warm around the heart.’’ He let out a small laugh reminding me why it’s my new favorite sound. ‘’That must sound so cheesy.’’

‘’I don’t think it’s cheesy. I think like it is really nice to love love.’’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘’It’s cute.’’

‘’So you are calling me cute?’’ I looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he let out a huff once again leaning all into my personal space.

‘’I am. I have once before too.’’ He whispered near my ear and I know he knew just what he was doing to me.

‘’What poets do you like the most?’’ he moved away leaving me upset over not feeling his breath on my neck anymore.

‘’I don’t read a lot in English.’’ I fumbled with the edge of my jacket and lowered my eyes to focus on my boots because his face was way too distracting. ‘’My dad is not from here and I got the gene for loving poetry from him so most of the things I read are in his mother tongue because it’s really the only way to keep myself from forgetting it.‘’ Making a mental note to call my dad tonight because it’s been too long, I suddenly became extremely aware that I am sharing so many personal information about me with a random man I met on the subway. ‘’So yeah, most of the poets I read, never got international fame so you unfortunately didn’t have a chance to hear of them.’’ I felt a dash of electricity go through my body when he put his hand under my chin tilting it up so we can once again face each other.

‘’Don’t hide that gorgeous face doll.’’ Dear Lord, I can’t believe I might actually die on a train because of a hot, poetry reading guy. ‘’I’d love to read some of that poetry you like if it is translated.’’

‘’I don’t know if any of it is translated but you can check, I can write down some of the names for you.’’ I said quickly really happy that he wants to read something I will recommend, still recovering from that ‘gorgeous’ comment.

‘’I don’t have anything you can write it on, we can just-‘’

‘’Oh, I have a piece of paper to write it on to, it’s no problem.’’ I interrupted him while flashing him another smile and started digging through my bag for pen and a paper only to have his hand stop mine making me look at him with confusion written all over my face.

‘’I was thinking something more in the lines of you writing your number in my phone,’’ he took his phone out his pocket and directed it at me. ‘’then I can text you and we can meet up so you can tell me more about those poets and maybe translate some for me on the spot if you want to.’’ The smile was evident on his face when I took the phone out his hand and started writing my number into it.

‘’I would really like that, Steve.’’ I gave him his phone back with a smile a bit too big for the cool persona I was trying to present myself as.

‘’Well, I am really looking forward to it, Y/n.’’ he returned the big smile and focused his eyes on my face once again.

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ I looked at him curiously.

‘’Anything, doll.’’

That nickname is going to kill me.

‘’How come you are reading poetry for children?’’ he left out a chuckle and gazed over the book in his hand.

‘’There are two reasons, actually.’’ He shifted from one leg to another and started talking kind of nervously. ‘’Firstly, this book is something I always come back to for some reason. My grandma bought it for me when I was just a kid and I reread it for too many times, so I always go back to it because it’s safe. Something like playing Friends in the background because there is nothing else to watch but it always makes you feel good, you know?’’ I nodded and he continued. ‘’Second is that currently I am interning at the pediatric wing at the hospital downtown and kids love me reading these poems to them so I always find a few I think they would like the most when I am getting to work in the morning.’’

‘’That is really amazing, Steve.’’ I put my hand on his forearm and looked at him with so much affection in my eyes. ‘’Those kids must feel really special having you read to them, it’s really heartwarming you do that even though you don’t have to.’’

‘’They are going through too much shit, if I can make it any better for them, I will.’’ How pathetic is it that talking about kids with this guy I met literally minutes ago, makes me think about having his kids?

‘’That is really too sweet.’’ I had plans on saying so much more to him, but I heard the automatic voice announce how my station is next. ‘’Shit I have to go; this is my stop.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He said and I swear I could hear some disappointment in his voice. ‘’I guess I will see you again?’’ he asked as if he is not sure if that is going to happen.

‘’You most definitely will see me again.’’ I looked at him fondly again and I don’t even know what force gave me the confidence to do so, but before making my way to the door I got on my tip toes and kissed his cheek.

‘’Bye, Steve. See you soon.’’ I said while walking away from him but still keeping my eyes on his as I saw him put his hand on the place I kissed him with a small smile on his face.

‘’See you soon, Y/n.’’ Was the last thing I heard before exiting the train, completely sure that I won’t be able to focus today in class.

But I don’t mind.

really hope you enjoyed this, any comment on it would truly mean a lot!<3