#should I make a joke about coming out of the tent in the morning with slippies and hair curlers now or later

[tenthhell]

I need y'all to understand that Orianna's tent is as comfortable as it is a liability; it's soft, it's decadent, it's richly coloured. It will attract attention from thieves. But it's fine bc those caught stealing will either be roasted or flayed and devoured to make a fucking point.

Thing is though....... Orianna isn't an adventurer. She's not used to living in a tent out in the wild, so of course her setup is ridiculous. It's the equivalent of a filthy rich person going camping for the first time bc that is actually on point.

[nadvs]

cam girl (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.

Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.

You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.

Rafe: sore?

You reply: as fuck.

Rafe: you loved it

You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.

You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.

You reply: so did you

Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: send an ass pic

You: are you always horny?

Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard

You: and i’m the needy one… lmao

Rafe: are u sending it or not

You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.

The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.

Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.

Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.

You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.

You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.

But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.

Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.

You text: wish u were here?

Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night

You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…

Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you

You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.

maybe, you reply.

Rafe: you took my cock so good

You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.

You: show me it

Rafe: you’d like that huh

You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it

Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick

You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.

You: what? i can’t tease you too?

Rafe: no

You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it

Rafe: only good girls deserve it

You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that

Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night

He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.

Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.

Rafe: ???

You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening

He only texts your name.

You: rafe :)

A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.

You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.

You: am i allowed to touch myself?

Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.

Rafe: if you promise me something

You: what?

Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight

Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.

The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.

You: i can do that

Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready

You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.

Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.

You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.

You pick up your phone.

You: might have to go back to sleep after that…

Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.

Rafe: order breakfast for yourself

The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?

You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3

Rafe: did u call about the heat yet

You reply: i will

Rafe: do it now

You: bossy

Rafe: now

God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.

It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.

You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.

When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.

The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.

You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.

He joins the session and lust fires through you already.

“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”

figure8: much better

figure8 tipped you $100.

“What’s that for?” you giggle.

figure8: for looking so pretty

“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”

You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.

figure8: goddamn

You smile.

figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second

“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”

figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?

You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.

You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”

figure8: maybe?

“Depends on your mood,” you say.

figure8: the fuck does that mean

“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”

figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol

“Shut up.”

figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night

“I hate you,” you laugh.

figure8: you love me and this dick

figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass

You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.

figure8: fuckkk just like that

“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.

figure8: i wanna see them ripped off

“These were expensive,” you pout.

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: there, you can buy more

“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.

figure8: rip them off right now

You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.

You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.

figure8: shake ur ass

You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.

figure8: let me see ur asshole

The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.

You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.

figure8: holy fucking shit

figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass

figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger

You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.

You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.

figure8: is it nice and wet?

“Mhm.”

figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?

You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.

figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it

You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.

figure8: hows it feel?

“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.

“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.

figure8: fuck yes

You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.

When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.

As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.

figure8: u like that?

“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”

You get the reaction you were hoping for.

figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?

“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.

figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?

“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.

You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.

When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.

“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.

Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.

With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.

You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.

“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.

“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.

He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.

“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.

You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.

You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.

Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.

He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.

“Tighter,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.

His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.

“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.

“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”

His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.

You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.

You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.

“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”

The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.

Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.

“Don’t do that,” he instructs.

“My neighbors-“

“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.

“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.

“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”

“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.

“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.

You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.

As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.

“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.

“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.

Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.

“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”

You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.

He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.

You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.

“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”

“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”

He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.

“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.

“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”

His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.

The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.

“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”

His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.

Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.

He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.

He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.

“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”

His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.

You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.

“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”

You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?

“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.

He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.

“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.

Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.

Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.

Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.

He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.

“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”

“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.

“Cancel?”

“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.

“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.

“They didn’t already fix it?”

“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”

“So, you spend another night cold?”

“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”

You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.

“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”

“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.

You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.

“Hotel?” you repeat.

“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”

“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”

Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.

You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.

You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.

“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”

You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.

This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?

But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.

You’re not sure what to do.

{ read part six here }

[ohmygraves]

i'm coming down with a flu i think so how about some ghost taking care of sick!reader?

when you wake up in the morning, you feel like you have swallowed pieces of glass in your sleep. your eyes felt hot, watering as you tried to rub it away to no avail. your sinuses felt awful too, you can't breathe properly through your nose. and worst of all you noticed that it's not even morning anymore, as the clock on your nightstand says 13:47 instead.

you started to panic, of course, you missed work and worried about getting in trouble with your boss, frantically searching for your phone. you saw it being charged just beside the clock (not where you left it, clearly you always fell asleep on your phone so it should be on the bed), confused as you unplugged it. your husband must've charged it on your behalf.

expecting for the worst, you braced for at least 53 missed calls from your boss and coworkers, though finding none instead. this surprises you, as you clearly know that your boss would've eaten you alive if you didn't return his calls, let alone missing most of the work hours.

simon suddenly walked in, placing a cup of hot honey lemon concoction on the nightstand. this confuses you evenmore.

"aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"well, you're at home yourself, love. aren't you supposed to be at work?"

when you rolled your eyes in annoyance, simon couldn't help but chuckle, sitting down beside you on your shared bed.

"asked th' old man to let me stay home today. said i'll get the whole base sick with the germs i carried to work."

as ridiculous as it sounds, at least it makes a lot of sense. you took a small tentative sip from the cup, flinching from the temperature. you didn't expect it to be so hot, then again simon always liked his beverages scalding.

"what about my work—"

"called your workplace for you, sweetheart. just rest for now, you sound worse than price today."

"you're so mean..."

"well i love you too."

he stood up, giving your head a small pat, his lips curled into a small smile. "i'll get you some food so you can take your meds."

you nodded weakly, unsure what else to say now since now your head feels like it's spinning. you placed the hot cup back on the nightstand, not wanting to spill it and getting hot lemon all over the bed or the carpet. no way in hell you're cleaning all the mess when you can't even stand up.

you must've fallen asleep afterwards, as simon woke you up, a bowl of hearty cream soup in hand. it has all of your favorite things in it, and smells surprisingly good. that's odd, simon doesn't really cook.

"where'd you buy this...?" you asked, clearly can't see him cooking this from scratch.

"i made this for you, love. now stop being snarky and eat it."

you didn't even have the energy to protest, just taking small bites from the bowl. it was surprisingly tasty, although a little too salty for you. some of the vegetables are also a little undercooked. now this is more like what you expected.

"not bad, gordon ramsey."

"still have the energy to joke around, i see."

"it's a compliment, simon."

now it was his turn to roll his eyes, sitting beside you and watching you eat his food. you pointed out how it tasted, and what he might have to fix next. he nodded quietly, hand caressing your hair slowly as he listened.

"i didn't get any call or text from work... what did you do?"

"just a little convincing, nothing big."

he didn't mention (vaguely) threatening your boss, or how he basically begged the captain to stay home today so he could take care of you instead. you don't need to know that.

[obsessive-valentine]

You could make a scenario for the yanderes with an F!READER who knits them a scarf, but she is not experienced yet and ends up making them an ugly scarf but with lots of love and she stands in front of him all excited and smiling

‘The Ugly Scarf’ Yanderes x GN!Reader

Here are some of the yanderes reactions, I didn’t write then all in case they’d get repetitive because they all absolutely love it one way or another.

Classic Yandere - He adores it. You were waiting to greet him with your hands behind you back. Gleaming with joy, and before he could even question why you were out of the bedroom and if he needed to start chaining you again, you presented him with a messily knitted blue scarf. He held it gently smiling in endearment when seeing the range of loose and tight loops “I love it so much, your so talented” he slings it over his shoulder to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. He will keep telling you that you should keep knitting and how precious it is. He wears it to work everyday, and defends it with his life; anyone who jokes about it will get a nasty glare. Literally worships anything you make.

Barbarian - He reacts very much like when you gave him homemade jewellery, his brain buffers hard before realising what’s going on. Anytime you gift him something he takes it as a declaration of love and although he’s not initially delusional, knowing at first you don’t want to be with him -this might make him believe you now want to be with him. But unlike the jewellery he doesn’t wear it everywhere, it’s a fragile piece of clothing and he’ll be dammed it he breaks it in the slightest. No instead it’s proudly but safely hung from the tents beams, and neatly folded up into a trunk every time camp moves.

Vampire - Honestly he thinks it’s very ugly but in an endearing way, he’s been around for to many generations and seen some good scarfs while also carving out his own refined fashion style. But never have he been gifted something so full of love, seeing you stand infront of him full of true happinesses is all he can ask. So when you hand him the questionable scarf saying you made it for him, he forgets to breathe (not like he needs to) before recollecting himself and politely thanking you. “I think we should go pick out some more yarn and new needles to replace those old things you found in the attic” fully supports your new hobby. He also wouldn’t wear it, he’s got to make the frail thing last for the century’s to come, he keeps it folded up neatly in the room with his coffin so he can see it every morning before he sleeps.

Childhood Friend Fae - Much like yandere vampire^, he thinks it’s ugly but appreciates the sentiment “Now what did i do to deserve this? Yes darling I love it very much, thank you”. He wouldn’t wear it but it would become a comfort item. He keeps it in his home study, sometimes finding himself fiddling with it while doing stressful work.

The rest of the OC’s would all be very endeared and wear it most days, it would become a permanent part of their wardrobe. Even later when you start knitting much more advanced scarfs and insist to replace the old thing -they’d insist on keeping it and wear it now and then. Fisherman and Farmer find it especially useful when working in winter.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Ooo hi, can you write something with gamer/streamer Miles G? Maybe he and the reader just chill and play games talking about life or whatever.

streamer miles!

Ok this went in a sliiightly different direction but the general premise is the same i hope that's ok lmao (also lowkey trying a new writing style/approach)

A/N: comment which animal crossing villager you think miles would like if u want 🫶🏾

You only really see a fraction of a person online. 

The messy, disagreeable thoughts that don’t fit into a neat little post, every time you’ve ever tripped over something and ate shit, all of your worst outfits - none of it exists if you don’t make it known. If you decide you’ve never stumbled over your own feet a day in your life, then it’s so. No one’s gonna claw their way through your screen and check.

For example, you had never seen Miles Morales smile with his teeth before until you clicked on his livestream, and none of his viewers would ever be able to guess.

He was laughing at some joke being made in the chat. 

“Y’all are terrible,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Miles’ stream had been recommended to you by the ever-mysterious, totally-not-creepy algorithm ‘based on your location’, and the thumbnail with his dimples on full display piqued your curiosity.

He’d been passing by once when you accidentally dropped your books and folders while rushing to class. He knelt down and picked them up without a word, dropping them into your hands in a much neater stack than they had originally been in, from largest to smallest. 

Your eyes met for less than two seconds, but you could’ve sworn that there was a softness to them that couldn’t be caught from a distance. 

“Thanks!” you called out as the late bell rang. He only nodded before turning away, not bothering to walk any faster.

You never spoke to him again, having no idea what you’d even say. He rarely spoke outside of class, but you had assumed that based on the way he skulked down the hallway and the permanent ‘I’m bored’ look on his face, that he’d be playing something a little more…serious? ‘God of War’ maybe, or ‘Last of Us’. Or some sports-related game that you couldn’t understand.

Certainly not ‘Animal Crossing’.

Tentatively, your fingers hovered over the keyboard as the stream of comments began to slow, and you wondered if he’d be more likely to see it if you commented this instant.

–Who’s ur favorite villager?

There, nice and simple. Inoffensive.

Miles squinted his eyes at what was presumably a second monitor.

“Who’s my favorite villager?” His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he put two and two together. “Oh! You mean the li’l animals and shit. Um, the blue penguin? Ace? I like him.”

You sat back and watched him play for another fifteen minutes, most of which were spent figuring out what direction a couch sitting inside his virtual home should face. His voice was low and almost raspy, but…muted. As if someone had turned the volume down on it like you would the radio. He was fortunate to own a decent microphone.

–You got your own PC? 

It seems you got lucky a second time, and Miles paused to read your comment aloud once again.

“Yyup,” he answered proudly. “Put it together myself. I’ll do a tour one day. My setup is wavy, you’ll see!”

He continued going back and forth with the comments in chat, occasionally thanking some for making small donations. The fact of him making anything at all just from playing a video game was impressive. 

Miles remarked on the ‘classical style’ of one of the buildings on his island, and you snorted. Nerd.

–bro thinks he’s an architect

This made him giggle. A light, breathy sound that you would hardly expect to come out of him.

“You’re a hater, man. Watch me get hired as soon as I’m outta college and build yo’ next apartment building.”

You looked down at your phone and realized it was nearly one in the morning. With a yawn, you said your goodbyes in the comments and left the stream.

-

The cafeteria was full by the time you got downstairs, leaving not a single space on the white benches save for two completely empty ones near the back. 

Well, not completely empty.

As you weaved in between students carrying trays of slop with milk cartons, a familiar pair of cornrows came into view.

It’s now or never.

Timidly, you slid onto the bench right beside Miles. Focused on his meal and the tattered sketchbook he carried around, he looked up at you with just his eyes.

“Hey,” you tried to greet him casually with an awkward smile. “I saw you ye–I mean, I…I saw you. In general.”

His blinked slowly. “We all go to the same school.”

You cleared your throat.

“...Right. We-uh, met in the hallway.”

“You dropped all your books on the floor.”

“Yeah!” you replied a little too loudly. “I just, um, wanted to say hi.”

“...hi.”

There was a stretch of silence as you sifted through a list of topics to rescue the conversation, and a lightbulb went off.

“Do you have any hobbies? Other than drawing, I mean.”

Miles gave up on sketching and answered, “Video games.”

“Which ones you been playing recently?”

“Uh, Mortal Kombat, 2K,” he counted on his fingers, “and Animal Crossing, just to see what it was about–”

“Oh, you’re really good at that one!”

You both froze. Uh-oh.

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“I-I mean, you just…look…like the type?” 

You started frantically chipping away at the remaining nail polish on your fingers. Not even you could believe that one.

A tiny grin played on his lips. 

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

Soon the bell rang, saving you from making any further incriminating comments.

“See you in class?”

“Yeah, see you in class,” Miles replied, before tilting his head. “Or wherever I see you.”

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Metamorphosis

Shinobu Kochou x Trans She/Her Reader

A/N: Sorry for the insane wait! I’m gonna take a nap now! Hopefully the typos aren’t horrible. Warning: Misgendering both intentional and not, gender dysphoria, coming out, brief discussion of potential surgery and use of medication. If there is more I should mention, please let me know. Thank you for reading! Word Count: 5,518

Shinobu was a very busy woman, countless slayers passed through her doors, many of which she wouldn’t even see during their visit, taken care of by one of the other residents while she was on missions or furthering her research.

However, there were times when her intervention was crucial, or she simply took an interest in those who happened to cross her path and give a little more of her time and consideration where she could. Case and point, Tanjiro and company, but without the rambunctious quartet chasing each other around the mansion at this early morning hour, her attention was caught by another.

The slayer waiting for assistance in her infirmary today appeared perfectly healthy, though maybe a bit nervous and sleep deprived if the bags under each eye were anything to go by. Being nervous was common enough amongst patients, even if they were only there for a run-of-the-mill check-up. However, those check-ups usually weren’t at five in the morning. Shinobu could have left it to one of the other girls or a Kakushi to handle, but something told her to take on this patient herself.

“My, you’re here early, good morning!” She spoke pleasantly as she began her approach, startling the patient out of their thoughts. Shinobu noted that he seemed to become more agitated and on edge.

“Good morning, Kochou-sama.” The slayer spoke softly, then gave Shinobu an abrupt bow, his long ponytail nearly cracking like a whip from the force.

Shinobu hummed in amusement and took a seat beside the cot her patient had chosen as a tentative perch while waiting for assistance.

“Well, I will say you look perfectly healthy from where I’m sitting. If you’re here for a physical or something minor, we usually ask that you make an appointment, but as you can see it’s one of those rare, quiet mornings so I’ll let it slide just this once, okay?” She informed, throwing in a playful wink for good measure.

The patient seemed conflicted, and to Shinobu it seemed that he had something he really wanted to say, but he managed to swallow it down for better or for worse, looking down at his tightly clasped hands.

“I’m sorry, I should have thought about that.”

“No harm done.” Shinobu assured, gesturing with her hand towards her office, thinking a more private space would be appreciated, “Come along and we’ll see how everything is going, alright?”

The patient seemed to hesitate again, but eventually replied with a hoarse, “Alright.”

Shinobu led the slayer to her office and motioned for them to sit as she closed the door behind them. She then began to carry out the standard exam. She pulled out the slayer’s medical history file, saying the name aloud to make sure she had the right one. The patient seemed to tense, but nodded stiffly in confirmation. Shinobu had chalked it up to more nerves and continued on with the exam.

Well, as much as she could since he was stubbornly insistent on keeping his shirt on, but Shinobu worked around it. It was actually a bit refreshing considering most men that walked through her doors couldn’t wait to show off. Once she checked over all she could, Shinobu sat back in her seat.

“Well, Ln-san, everything here checks out. Nothing to worry about, you’re a perfectly healthy young man, congratulations.” Shinobu lightly joked and smiled reassuringly and put in a few finishing notes on the record. “You’re free to go.”

“O-kay.”

Shinobu’s pen froze mid-stroke upon hearing how the slayer’s voice cracked, she glanced up with a slightly startled look upon her face. Her patient seemed to be breathing heavier, his eyes shined with a wet film of held back tears, causing Shinobu to sit up straighter in her chair, more alert.

“Oh dear, is something the matter?” She asked innocently, unaware of just how heavy the answer to that question would be.

The slayer’s bottom lip trembled as he tried to put on a brave face. Shinobu noted how his shoulders shook, the inhales of air when he tried to speak were noisy and abrupt. Shinobu kept calm and attempted to coax him.

“I don’t know what to do, Kochou-sama…”

“About what?” She asked gently.

A sort of watery, abrupt guffaw left the slayer’s mouth, a shake of the head and a frustrated toss of the hands.

“See, I couldn’t sleep for months because it was all I could think about… I thought about what I would do and how to explain… but now that I’m here… I- it’s all slipped my mind! It’s been slowly eating away at me for years, and now that I’m finally trying to say it out loud to someone, I can’t do it!”

“For simply slipping your mind, you sure seem to be intimately aware of your troubles. You’re just dancing around the issue for whatever reason that may be, but not quite saying it.” Shinobu leaned forward in her chair. “As insurmountable as it may seem to you, I cannot help if I don’t know what is keeping you up at night. You need to take that step yourself. The words don’t have to be perfectly articulate from the get go. You can always refine it once you get something out.”

The slayer continued to be conflicted, earning a sigh and a firm stare from Shinobu. She could clearly see this was a sensitive issue, but she truly could not sit here all day even if she wanted to. She could send the slayer Aoi’s way and maybe check on the situation later, but for now…

“I apologize for rushing you, but I do have other engagements—“

“I’m a woman!” They blurted hastily, hands tightly pressed together.

“…O-Oh!” Shinobu blinked in surprise, then reached for the slayer’s file again. “I’m sorry… whoever drafted your papers must have made an error.”

“Yes! Well, no, but yes. Um, it was ‘right’, given how I was born, but as I got a little older and thought about it more, the more it felt like it didn’t fit.” The slayer swallowed thickly, “I’ve been raised male, but that never felt quite right and… I know what I want now, what feels right and, and makes me feel like I can breathe and makes everything feel a little less suffocating. I just… there are some things about my body and how people perceive me that make me uncomfortable on the good days and like I could just about die on the bad days and I don’t really know how to do anything about it and I need help, please.”

Now that the slayer had divulged her plight to Shinobu, the slayer felt a strange weightlessness, but also like she might throw up from the stress and uncertainty of how Shinobu would process this information. They were practically strangers, she was taking a huge risk confiding in her.

Shinobu wasn’t going to let that look of dread quickly growing in the slayer’s eyes continue, she laid the file flat on her desk and dipped a pen in ink. After pushing her sleeve up, she smudged out the gender and swiftly replaced it. The slayer focused on the motion, lips parting in surprise. Shinobu smiled reassuringly, tapping the paper.

“Anything else that needs to be edited?” Shinobu inquired warmly, “It looks a little messy now, but once the proper corrections are made, a new one can be drafted.”

The tears that had weld up in the slayer’s eyes for a myriad of reasons in the past twenty-four hours finally bubbled past the dam and streamed down her face. She hurriedly tried to wipe them away.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright, take your time.” Shinobu offered a handkerchief that was graciously accepted. After a minute, she pulled herself together, still a little weepy, but able to better communicate her wishes.

“M-my name. Could you change that too?” She asked, hopefully.

“Easily.” Shinobu affirmed. “Do you already have something in mind already? If not, I’m sure I could come up with something good.” Shinobu’s mind was already turning through a list of possibilities, even recycling some of the unjustly rejected names she had chosen when they had taken Kanao in.

Unfortunately for Shinobu, but fortunately for the slayer, she had already thought about this extensively and had a name at the ready.

“Yn.” She had answered, Yn had said the name to herself before, whispered it under her breath some late nights when she could not sleep, along with others that stood out to her, finding this particular name to be her favorite. Saying it aloud to someone else, someone she hoped would continue to be as accepting as she seemed to be right now, it felt even better.

Shinobu hummed and nodded, striking out the discarded name and putting the proper one in its place.

“And so it shall be.”

***

Yn was nervous, so so so nervous, but also excited. After having her latest late night crisis that had brought her to the steps of the Butterfly Mansion a week ago, she was coming back with a proper appointment. Shinobu had told her she would need to do some research on the science-y end of things, which had surprised Yn a bit.

She didn’t really know what to expect when getting Shinobu involved, but knowing she was packing extra specialized research into her already busy schedule just for Yn really blew her away. She couldn’t have been more grateful, which was why she was bringing a basket of treats as a thank you.

She wasn’t really sure what Shinobu liked… so she made a little bit of everything. Worst came to worst, at least the other residents might enjoy it. Though she really hoped Shinobu would like at least one thing she baked to make sure the extra hours she spent late last night were not used in vein. Not that she would have been able to sleep anyway.

She weaved her way through the garden and left her shoes at the entrance, making her way through the winding halls until she made it back to Shinobu’s office. After a couple of deep breaths, she knocked on the door before she could lose her nerve.

“Come in.”

“Pardon the intrusion.” Yn slid the door open and took pause upon seeing the amount of books spread around the office. There had been plenty of books before, but they were all neatly tucked away in their proper shelves. Now the quantity had appeared to noticeably increase and was liberally spread across almost every surface.

Shinobu was in between two precarious stacks at her desk, hair a bit mussed and a somewhat irradiated look in her eyes as she skimmed the page she was hunched over. She didn’t look extremely disheveled at all, but from what Yn knew of Shinobu’s reputation, appearing even a little out of sorts seemed unusual.

Something about it was highly attractive though.

Yn shook her head of the thought and gently knocked on the doorframe to remind Shinobu of her presence because even though she had invited Yn in, she had yet to look up.

“Aoi, I expressed…“ Shinobu’s gaze flickered upward and she seemed to freeze momentarily before she tried to side-eye the clock she kept on her desk. Tried to, because it was somewhere behind a wall of books.

“Oh!” She cleared her throat and stood from her desk. “My, is it that time already? I was just getting ready for you. Pardon the mess.”

It was pretty clear to Yn, that Shinobu had not at all been ready to receive her, but it was unnecessarily cute by how much Shinobu was trying to downplay just how caught off guard she was.

“It’s no problem. I uh, I like to read too.” Yn twirled the basket in her hands as Shinobu started slinging books back into their proper place in the shelves. “…Can I help?”

“Don’t trouble yourself, have a seat and I’ll be with you shortly…” Shinobu inhaled, smelling a sugary scent that reminded her she had neglected to eat breakfast, and lunch for that matter. She shoved a couple more books into place, the sound overtaking the sudden grumble of her stomach. She glanced curiously at the basket on Yn’s lap. “What do you have there?”

“I made some things as a thank you.” Yn looked down at her basket, her cheeks feeling a bit warm. “I don’t know what you like, but I wanted to bring something.”

Shinobu strode back, glancing over Yn’s shoulder into the basket. She blinked in surprise.

“You made all of this? For me?”

“Yes, please take it.” She offered Shinobu the basket. “If you aren’t a fan, please share them with the girls. I’d ask if you could please tell me your preferences so I can try to thank you again properly.”

Shinobu was so hungry at this point, she would eat a slice of stale bread if it was available, but this basket of treats was nothing less than immaculate. She graciously accepted.

“No, this is a lovely gift, thank you.” Shinobu said, graciously. “I can’t say I feel like I deserve such an opulent assortment just yet, but I will give you my best.” Her stomach reminded her of its existence yet again. “Would you find it terribly rude of me to indulge as we speak?”

“Absolutely not, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu eased herself into her chair and retrieved a sweet bread roll that was calling her name. “Please help yourself as well if you’d like.”

“That’s alright, I’ve had my fair share.” Yn laughed, sheepishly.

Shinobu bit into the roll and felt better the instant she swallowed the first bite. She really needed that. On the second bite, she actually took the time to taste and she mourned the quick departure of the first.

“This is very good, Ln-san.” She praised. “You are really quite skilled.”

Yn felt a weight lift off of her shoulders, so much so she might float away from the praise. “Thank you so much! I’m so glad you like it!”

Shinobu finished the roll in a couple more bites and resisted the urge to pick through the basket for something else to sample. There were important matters to attend to after all and she had already been more frazzled than she would have ever liked to be in polite company.

She still had a couple books of her desk, certain pages book marked and ready to be referenced. Aggravatingly brief and scarce pages, to be precise. Better than absolutely nothing, she supposed.

“Let’s get the ball rolling then, shall we?”

Yn felt the nerves and excitement bubble within her once more. She couldn’t believe she was actually here, talking to someone. Not just someone, but a person who had the means and know-how to… to do what exactly, Yn wasn’t sure, but she was ready to hear her options.

“Alright,” Shinobu exhales, “what you’ve disclosed to me, it’s not unheard of. Unfortunately, my collection is lacking on in depth information. I do apologize for that, but I am getting my hands on a few works dedicated to the topic, it’ll just take some time for them to arrive.”

“It’s already beyond my expectations that I’m talking to anyone about this at all. I really can’t thank you enough for going through all this trouble for me.” Yn tried to put as much gratitude into her voice as she could.

“You’ve done more than enough thanking for one day and probably for the duration of however long it takes you to get to a more comfortable place in your presentation.” Shinobu assured with a kind smile, sliding a book over to Yn. “Let’s see what we know so far…”

***

So far so good… Yn couldn’t complain, she just wished she could feel a difference with the little pills she had each morning. Shinobu said they could possibly up the dosages later, but she wanted to start small and monitor for any negative side effects.

Her other option, though a quicker result, would be a highly experimental surgical procedure. Just listening to Shinobu explain how she might accomplish such a thing made Yn feel more than a little faint. Shinobu assured she would study the logistics of such a procedure before attempting it herself, but Yn wasn’t in a hurry to go under the knife so she could live with her little cocktail of estrogen pills and testosterone blockers that Shinobu and Aoi cobbled together.

Okay, that was unfair choice of words, Shinobu had worked tirelessly researching hormones and how to stimulate and stagnate them. It only took her about two months before she had something she was confident enough in to prescribe to Yn and she couldn’t have been more grateful, truly, again, she just really wished she could notice even the slightest change.

She sighed and put the pill bottle down, noticing a very light clinking sound as she did so. Curiously, she picks up another one of the bottles and gives it a little shake. She would have to get those refilled…

A warmth buzzed in her chest, an excuse to go back to the Butterfly Estate! Shinobu had said she could stop by anytime… but it never felt right to invite herself over, especially when Shinobu was always so busy. There wasn’t a guarantee that she would even be there at all.

However, her medication running low was the perfect excuse to test her luck and find out if Shinobu was around. If nothing else, it was always nice to see the others and seeing the younger ones smile when she came bearing treats was always a delight. So, she packed up some dango she had made yesterday and set off.

She was greeted as soon as she made it to the gates, Sumi, Kiyo and Naho running over from the garden. They tried not to look too hopeful about the contents of Yn’s bag, but Yn could plainly see how eager they were for a treat and she was happy to oblige.

“You’re going to spoil them, you know.” Aoi said, coming out of the mansion with a basket of laundry. She set the basket down and brushed her hands down her front. “We were wondering when you might make an appearance. Shinobu-sama was getting antsy, you shouldn’t wait until you’re down to the wire on your medication before coming in for a refill. You never know what might come up.”

“Sorry,” Yn rubbed the back of her neck, “I didn’t think about that.”

Aoi sighed and shook her head. “No harm done. Come with me and I’ll refill your prescription. After that, Shinobu-sama will want to check you over. It’s a little unfortunate that she’s in the middle of entertaining right now.”

“Entertaining?”

Before Aoi could elaborate, Shinobu happened to turn the corner, chatting with the Love Hashira beside her. Shinobu looked up and smiled warmly, making Yn’s heart flutter.

“Hello there, Ln-san, I was starting to worry about you.” Shinobu scolded jokingly.

“I’m sorry, Kochou-sama, I didn’t realize I was being missed.” Yn smiled sheepishly.

“Shinobu-chan!” Mitsuri, the Love Hashira, tugged on Shinobu’s haori, “Introduce me, will you? Who is this? A friend?”

“Yes,” Shinobu held out a hand in Yn’s direction, “This is Ln Yn, she’s also a patient of mine.”

Shinobu was sure Mitsuri would be endlessly supportive and kind as always if she had explained the situation, but it wasn’t her place to do so, it was Yn’s, if she saw fit.

“Oh!” Mitsuri pressed forward, hands clasped in front of her chest. So close that Yn instinctively took a step back from the sudden proximity. “You aren’t terribly sick, are you? That would be just awful! You know what always makes me feel better when I’m sick? Soup! Soup and dumplings and roasted vegetables and fish and—“

“Kanroji-san,” Shinobu put a hand on her back, “Ln-san will be just fine. It’s mostly just consultation.”

“Ah—“ Mitsuri blushed, a couple beads of sweat gathering oil on her brow, “That’s… that’s good! Very good!” She clapped her hands on Yn��s shoulders, making the other slayers almost wince at the overuse of force. “Stay healthy, Ln-san!”

“I- I will do my best, Kanroji-sama.” Yn promised, rubbing one of her poor shoulders.

“Mm! Mm!” Mitsuri nodded, her arms crossed. She opened her mouth to speak again, but instead a low rumble was heard from her stomach, renewing the intensity of her blush. “Ah! So embarrassing!”

“We were about to make lunch.” Shinobu shared, “You should join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“The more the merrier!” Mitsuri insisted. “Aoi-chan, you too!”

“I already ate.” Aoi refused, but then gave Yn the side-eye, “I wouldn’t mind a bit of dessert before it’s gone, however.”

“Oh! Yes, here you go, Aoi-san. Here is Kanao-san’s share too.” Yn presented Aoi with a few wrapped dango.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure she gets it.”

Yn felt an intense stare as Aoi walked away and slowly turned her head to see Mitsuri staring at her with big, hopeful eyes. Not very unlike how Kiyo, Sumi and Naho looked at her upon her arrival, actually.

“Is that… dango? It smells so good.” Mitsuri sighed wistfully.

“You can have some too if you want, I made a lot.” Yn offered, the sweetheart that she was.

“You made it yourself? Homemade is always the best!” Mitsuri danced foot to foot, “I can have some? Really?”

“Of course—“

Yn found herself in a crushing embrace, a few of her lumbar vertebrae made a dull cracking sound.

“That’s so nice! Thank you!”

“Kanroji-san, Ln-san isn’t used to your hugs be careful with her.” Shinobu gently reminded.

Mitsuri drew back, concerned and sheepish, “Sorry…”

“I’m okay.” Yn wheezed, handing a couple wrapped dango over to Mitsuri. “Here you go.”

Mitsuri exclaimed in excitement, accepting the offering. “Thank you!” She eagerly dug in, humming happily,

“You saved enough for me too, right, Ln-san?” Shinobu creeped up beside her, a sly smile on her face, “I would feel so left out if everyone got to enjoy a treat besides myself…”

“I have more!” Yn assured, a bit too panicked, making Shinobu chuckle.

“It’s alright, please breathe easy.”

“You’re so mean, Shinobu-chan.” Mitsuri whined, her mouth full of dango.

“Sorry, sorry~” Shinobu waved her hand, not looking very sorry at all. “Lunch will make up for it, I promise. Kanroji-san has a new recipe from the west we’re going to try.”

“Yes!” Mitsuri clapped, dango already devoured.

“Then I can give you a quick check-up and make sure everything is good to go.” Shinobu promised, already guiding Yn towards the kitchen.

***

It hadn’t taken long for Mitsuri to worm her way into Yn’s heart and earn her trust. Having Mitsuri to confide in was huge. A friend, a confidant and a sister, giving her all sorts of tips and tricks about makeup, clothes and even how to carry herself. There were even things she would ask Mitsuri about that she felt too embarrassed to ask Shinobu about, something that the Insect Hashira noticed and felt a bit jelous about… not that she would ever admit it.

She did, however, interrogate when she felt it necessary, which is how she found herself heading to one of her least favorite places on the planet.

“O-oh, Kochou-sama,” Maeda wrung his hands nervously, sweating in the Hashira’s presence, “what a… pleasant surprise. Do you have a uniform that requires mending?”

“I’m not here for me.” She spoke curtly, making Maeda flinch.

“I- I see… then Tsuyuri-sama, or Kanzaki-san…?”

“No. Shinobu drew closer like a lion circling prey, “I’m here for Ln Yn, she asked for a uniform alteration and I was informed that you turned her away. Is that correct?”

“Ln-san…” Maeda swallowed thickly, “his request was ridiculous, a- a joke I’m sure…”

Shinobu’s eyes flashed, giving Maeda a quick taste of the fury nestled just below her skin, “Masao-san,” she spoke, in an overly sweet tone, “you amaze me, truly.”

“I, I do?” The poor fool almost looked hopeful, but Shinobu quickly shut that down.

“Just when I think you can’t go any lower, you find yourself a shovel.”

Maeda cowered, had he been born a turtle, he would have retreated into his shell as Shinobu proceeded to rip him a new one.

“You know how I loathe your designs… a uniform that’s supposed to protect one from the slashes of the lowest levels of demons, yet you purposefully leave some of the most vital spots bare. Do you know how many women in the corps have been injured, killed, because they were too polite to reject your perversions?” She asked heatedly, not giving him time to answer,

“I loathe it… however, I respect those who feel empowered showing a little skin, if that is truly what they desire. Imagine my surprise when you had not leapt at the chance to give Ln-san a skirt.”

“Kochou-sama, please understand it’s because h—“

“She.” Shinobu cut him off. “You will make her a skirt, about knee length, as she desires or we can guess how long it will take for me to set your base of operations ablaze. It was a little tricky burning that trash you tried to pawn off on me those few short years ago, but I’m confident I still remember how I did it…”

“K-Kochou-sama, please! I don’t even have the measurements!”

Shinobu presented a piece of parchment from her breast pocket, nearly shoving it in his face.

“I took the liberty of getting them myself. I know you already have uniforms on standby, it shouldn’t take long to fix one up to the proper perimeters I’ve set for you. Finish within the hour please, it’s quite chilly today and who is to say what I might do to ensure I stay warm.” She warned, a chilling smile upon her lips.

Safe to say she had a lovely skirt in her hands half an hour later. The unrestrained hug of gratitude Yn had provided upon her return made dealing with the unpleasant tailor all the more worth it. Not to mention… the skirt did look quite good on her and that was only the beginning of Yn’s new wardrobe.

***

Entering the boutique with Shinobu and Mitsuri, Yn felt almost giddy. A girls outing, Mitsuri had suggested excitedly when they had all found themselves together with some rare free time. Well, Shinobu never truly had free time, but she’d be damned if she missed out on seeing Yn try on some cute clothes.

They did run into a little trouble early on, a small group of gossiping women following them around the store, causing Yn grief with their scrutiny. Shinobu wouldn’t let that last for long. To this day Yn still didn’t know what Shinobu had said to those women when she approached them, but she’d never forget how they paled and quickly left the shop in a flurry, getting tangled up in the entryway as one tried to make her hasty exit before the other.

“What did you say to them, Shinobu-chan?” Mitsuri had been the one to ask, while rubbing Yn’s back comfortingly.

Shinobu only smiled, raising a finger to her lips, making Mitsuri and Yn chuckle nervously. She then held out her hand to Yn for her to take and pulled her towards the fabrics for more formal occasions.

“Let’s continue to enjoy our outing, shall we? Kanroji-san, help her pick something nice, my treat.”

Mitsuri wasted no time pushing Yn through the rows of kimono. Shinobu smiled fondly, waiting for their return. She wanted to be surprised, and surprised she was upon their return.

“What do you think?” Yn asked shyly, doing a little spin when Mitsuri enthusiastically prompted her to.

Shinobu’s eyes greedily took in every detail and she sighed inwardly. Of course Mitsuri just had to put her in purple. She had to wonder if Mitsuri could read her mind and was trying to force Shinobu’s hand to finally make a move… Shinobu shook off that idea rather quickly, she had done well to hide her attraction and Mitsuri wasn’t that perceptive. It was a very good unintentional attempt, however. Her instincts managed a direct hit on Shinobu’s heart and now she had to attempt to be casual in her approval instead of foaming at the mouth.

“You look lovely. It really suits you.” Shinobu allowed her eyes to wander under the guise of appraising the outfit and nothing more, soon finding an excuse to get a bit more hands-on because she just couldn’t seem to help herself.

“Just have to straighten out the obi a little.”

“Thank you.” Yn murmured, feeling a little tingly from the gentle tugs and smoothing of fabric. “Are you sure it isn’t… too much?”

“Not at all, I can easily afford this.” Shinobu assured.

“No, I mean, does it really suit me?”

“Ln-san,” Shinobu gripped her bicep, squeezing it in warning, “do you think Kanroji-san or I, would lie to you?”

“No!” Yn squawked.

“Do you think Kanroji-san and I don’t know what looks good?” She pressed.

“No!” Yn rapidly shook her head. “I- I don’t think that at all!”

“Excellent. Pay no mind to what a couple of uninspired, uneducated women who can’t tell you if water is wet without asking their husbands have to say about what you can or can’t wear. Understand me? You’re beautiful.”

Yn felt herself tear up a bit. Shinobu was just too kind. How could someone so amazing exist at the same time as her, let alone be in such close proximity, comforting her? As lovely as the kimono was, she was starting to feel a little too warm with Shinobu staring at her so intently, her fingers still curled around the edge of her obi.

Then Mitsuri scooped her up in an all encompassing hug that made it nearly impossible to breathe.

“Shinobu-chan is right you know! So forget them and let’s have a good time. I know a thing or two about people like that, and it’s really for the best to not acknowledge them at all.”

“Or you could put something unpleasant in their tea.” Shinobu smiled ominously.

“Shinobu-chan!” Mitsuri gasped, hiding a giggle behind her hands.

Yn looked between the two giggling women and couldn’t help but join along, she couldn’t believe what a difference six months could make.

Mitsuri had been called off to a mission just as they were wrapping up dinner in the city, leaving Yn and Shinobu on their own.

“You should stay in the Butterfly Mansion tonight, it’s getting late.” Shinobu spoke up when they came upon the crossroads where they would have to part ways normally.

“That’s alright, Kochou-sama, I—“

“It’s not imposing if I’m actively inviting you over, Ln-san.” She interrupted. “Besides, you look so pretty in your new kimono that I couldn’t possibly leave you on your own to fend off any unwanted advances.”

Yn felt her face heat up, only getting warmer when Shinobu took her hand and pulled her in the direction of the mansion.

“And I have something I’ve been meaning to give you anyway.” She added softly.

***

Upon arriving at the mansion’s gates, Shinobu prompted Yn to wait at the garden’s edge, the sunset provided the kind of ambiance she was hoping for.

Yn rocked from her heels to her toes, waiting anxiously for Shinobu’s return. To be honest, she had something she wanted to tell her. She wasn’t expecting much, she just hoped at the very least, it wouldn’t change their relationship in a negative way.

“Boo.”

Yn jumped as high as the sunflower stalks when Shinobu snuck up behind her, poking her between the shoulder blades.

“Kochou-san! Don’t do that!” She whined, making the Hashira giggle.

“I’m sorry, you just make it too easy sometimes. Anyway,” she presented a thin box to Yn, “for you, it actually matches your new kimono.” She smiled, waiting for Yn to open the box.

“Thank you.” Yn murmured, gasping softly when a butterfly hair ornament, not too dissimilar from Shinobu’s own was revealed to her as soon as she opened the box. “Kochou-sama, this is really for me?”

“Who else would it be for, silly?” She grinned. “Let me help you put it on.”

Yn let Shinobu guide her to a nearby bench and fix the clip into her hair.

“Beautiful.”

“Like a chivalrous knight…” Yn spoke aloud softly, gently bringing her hand up to touch the butterfly’s wings.

“What was that?” Shinobu chuckled, a bit of pink gathering in her cheeks.

Yn yelped, bringing her hands to her mouth.

“D-did I say that out loud? I- I just meant, well, you are kind of like a knight. Helping me, protecting me… I really appreciate everything you do.” She babbled, freezing up when Shinobu hugged her from behind.

“If I’m the knight, then you’re the princess.” She spoke near Yn’s ear, making her shiver. Shinobu chuckled and squeezed her a little tighter.

Safe to say, what Yn wanted to tell her would be very well received.

[randxmthxughts]

Chosen by Eywa - Crossing the Bridge - Chapter 4

← chapter 3 | chapter 5 →

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers, slow burn

wc: 4.2k

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

a/n: i know i haven't updated in two weeks, but it was only due to the circumstances. like i promised, i will have another chapter out during the week, bc i'm so happy that i got my visa and went to my concert, so stay stuned, babies. i hope you still like this series and will keep reading T.T

It was awkward. The way Neteyam stood in front of the tent, hesitating to walk in to avoid drawing the attention of the other healers. Awkward, how he had to shift his weight from one foot to the other every few minutes because everyone, except her, had caught sight of the future Olo'eyktan at some point. And it took Kiri to finally shove her so forcefully to look up from her task, that Y/N almost fell face first onto the ground.

The whole intention of spending time together away from the High Camp was to avoid the attention and the murmurs of the villagers about them. More importantly, to avoid running into Kaye and his new mate. But the moment their ikrans touched down in the forest, far away from the prying eyes, the pressure of performing got replaced with an uncomfortable tension. And neither Y/N nor Neteyam knew how to close that gap between them. How come weaving mats in a healing tent seemed to be easier and less stressful than taking a stroll in the lush forest of Pandora?

“Say something, show her the real Neteyam,” Neteyam muttered to himself, trailing awkwardly behind Y/N.

She, immersed in her own thoughts, walked ahead without a clear direction, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her loincloth. Neteyam desperately tried searching for an opening to deliver, and took a few larger strides not to fall behind too far.

“So… how was your day?” he finally mustered the courage to ask.

Y/N paused in her tracks, glancing back at him with a small frown, as if she couldn’t quite make out the words he said. Neteyam stopped walking too, waiting for a response.

“The usual. Lessons,” her voice lacked any enthusiasm that could have encouraged him to go on. 

“Good,” Neteyam nodded, trying to offer something else in return, “I’ve had training today.”

“How was it?” 

“The usual,” he repeated Y/N’s words with an ironic snicker, recalling his morning, “It’s either getting beaten up by your fake opponents, or by the actual bad guys. Today was the pretend one.”

He shrugged to complete his explanation, something that he had borrowed from his brother whenever he made a joke, as if to give his words a humorous meaning. And though they were quite ghastly, it coaxed a small chuckle out of Y/N. Neteyam’s ears twitched at the sound with a flicker of delightful surprise. He made her smile.

“Well, you look alright for someone who got beaten up,” Y/N gestured at his woundless body, her canines peeking out.

“I’d have to turn that compliment down, since I didn’t get beaten up today,” Neteyam smirked, “You should have seen the other guy.”

“Oh, is that so? That’s always the case with you?”

“No, I get beaten up too sometimes… though not as often,” he shrugged again, this time releasing the pressure of performing, as he admitted to a vulnerability that most warriors wouldn’t, “And even when I do, I don’t worry about that stuff.”

“Why not?” Y/N’s ears perked up in curiosity.

“Well, let’s see…” Neteyam bit back a smile, pretending to be thinking about his answer, “I have a grandmother for Tsahik, my mother used to be the tsakarem, now my sister is a tsakarem,” he paused, hesitating to add, “And my destined mate is training under the guidance of the Tsahik. So, I think I’m in good hands.”

“Right,” Y/N snorted at the comment, and for a moment Neteyam thought that he might have crossed the line his father kept telling him about, but once she turned away from him to continue walking, he noticed a ghost of a smile on her lips, and that was enough of a confirmation to send his heart into a rapid beat.

Neteyam wasn’t even sure why the reaction made him suddenly giddy but it felt like a small victory he could showcase, if his family expresses any interest in his progress with Y/N. And as he continued to trail behind her, though they mostly remained in silence, the atmosphere seemed to ease.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“It’s okay, Y/N, let’s switch,” Kiri’s tight grip on Y/N’s arm brought her back into reality.

Y/N stood awkwardly a few steps away from the two warriors in front of her - one, who looked at her with guilt but still some lingering warmth in his eyes, and the other - who studied her earnestly, looking for any signs of discomfort, as if he could make them vanish. Kiri, who was only a moment ago treating her brother, was quick to read the situation and attempted her best to resolve it. Everything just unraveled so fast, the way the group of warriors stumbled into the tent for the first time in days, seemingly wounded after an encounter with the sky people. 

Since they were practically regulars at the tent, each warrior was used to being treated by the same one or two healers, and everyone found their places right away. Kiri too, without a second thought, was immediately grabbing her older brother and getting to work. Which left Y/N standing in front of Kaye, according to the unspoken habit that had developed over the past months. Kaye had a gash across his chest that needed close inspection, but Y/N couldn’t really move, as if her feet were suddenly glued to the ground, weighed down. 

Neteyam, of course, watched the scene unravel before him, but he couldn’t do much but just contain himself from making a bigger deal out of it for the whole tent to see. His eyes darted around the room, searching for his grandmother, who perhaps could help Kaye instead, but Mo’at was already busy with placing stitches on another warrior’s thigh, and it would take a while before she would be free.

“It’s alright, I can wait for somebody else to -” Kaye cleared his throat, raising his palms in the air, as if to prevent the switch up, but Kiri simply ignored him, already nudging Y/N to the side.

“That looks bad, you need to take care of it,” Neteyam gestured at Kaye’s chest with much discontent, as if acknowledging the truth made him cringe.

Defeated, Kaye stopped disagreeing, the sting of the wound was only getting more painful when he spoke, and to be quite honest, he couldn’t wait. Y/N’s expression remained stone cold, as she watched Kiri lead Kaye to the other side of the tent. Neteyam pressed his lips into a thin line, watching them two, his irritation finally starting to seep away, the farther they got. He was almost caught off guard, when he felt a pair of cold hands against his skin.

Y/N silently kneeled in front of him, starting to treat the small scraps over his arms and shoulders. Her expression was unwavering, as if nothing had happened, and he wondered what she was really thinking about. Was this the first time she saw Kaye after their fight?

“Stop staring,” Y/N mumbled, without looking up at him, while her hands still worked their healing magic.

Neteyam shook his head to deny her request, and continued to watch her every move intently. Irritated, she hooked a finger under his chin and forcefully turned his head to the side, so that he was met with the tent wall. He chuckled weakly at the gesture but kept the new position.

“You can take a breather, you know? I’m not dying, I can wait,” he suggested.

Y/N paused to stare at the side of his face for a moment, giving him a false sense of actually contemplating his offer. Of course, she was going to turn it down, there was no way she could’ve just walked out of the tent. The scolding she’d get from Mo’at wasn’t worth it.

“I can’t,” Y/N pretended to be unbothered, her hands continuing to work over his forearm, where a few smaller cuts were in need of a soothing balm.

“Why not? I won’t mind,” Neteyam turned his face again to look at her. 

“Because I can’t leave my destined mate unattended, can I?” Y/N's voice dripped with irony, and she couldn't resist stealing a quick glance at him, searching for a reaction.

Neteyam's frown deepened, caught off guard by the repetition of his own words. Was that a bad slip? Maybe she took what he said in a way where Neteyam only valued Y/N for her skills, rather than her as a person. Disappointed with himself, he shook his head and then gently covered her hands with his own, halting their movements.

"Y/N, I didn't mean it that way," Neteyam's voice was low, and he waited patiently for her to meet his gaze before continuing, "This... it doesn't matter. I was just kidding. Go on, and take a breather if you need one."

“I know, Neteyam, I was only teasing,” the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.

For a fleeting moment, Y/N allowed herself to forget that the love of her life was sitting and watching her from across the room. It felt exhilarating to indulge in the playful banter, teasing Neteyam and pretending that they were a blissful couple, free from the weight of their responsibilities.

“You’re teasing,” he breathed out with relief, “Oh… good.”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes, “And obviously I can’t just take a break right now. Your grandmother will kill me.”

As Y/N returned to tending his scrapes and cuts, Neteyam bit his cheek, thinking for a moment. A sudden surge of courage coursed through him, and he made a decision, quickly standing up and pulling her gently to her feet. His hand found hers, and the movement surely caught the attention of those around them but Neteyam only shrugged, his eyes on Y/N. She was confused, and she couldn't help but glance nervously at Kaye, who had been watching the whole interaction with unease. 

“Let’s go,” Neteyam’s thick-accented voice grabbed her attention once more, and without waiting for an answer, he was already walking out of the tent, leading her by the hand with him.

Y/N had little time to react, on the way out, her eyes caught a sight of Mo’at, who shook her head at the interruption and returned back to her task.

“Neteyam,” Y/N hissed embarrassed, but his grip on her, though gentle, remained unmoving.

“My grandmother won’t kill you, if I’m coming with you,” he explained, without even glancing back at her.

“You’re coming with me? Where?” Y/N’s nose scrunched up in confusion.

“Wherever you want.”

Neteyam was never one to protest the rules. Lo’ak liked to tease him about it and call him a “goody-two-shoes,” but Neteyam was too focused on excelling rather than getting offended by his brother’s weak insults. But he also never had enough motivation to disobey. Breaking the rules only brought trouble, and after careful consideration, Neteyam had never deemed it worthwhile. But here, now, as he led Y/N away from her responsibilities to offer her a moment of peace, he decided that it was for a good reason. That it wouldn’t matter if his grandmother got mad at them and he would take the blame anyway, since he initiated it. But if it meant that she didn’t have to keep working while her past lover gawked at her, then maybe it was worth it.

When they were finally away from the tent, Y/N stood right in front of him, their hands still intertwined. Despite trying to stare down at his much bigger frame with disapproval, there were traces of gratitude in her eyes. Her tail swished with excitement, thinking of how great it felt to abandon her day’s duties and just be left alone.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice carrying an earnest tone.

"No need to thank me," Neteyam squeezed her hand, "My mother always reminds me that those who care of others also deserve care in return. I tend to forget it at times, but she's right."

He tugged at her hand once more, his gaze already wandering off to somewhere else. Without hesitation, Y/N willingly trailed behind him along the narrow path that meandered through the Hallelujah Mountains. Neteyam's grasp on her hand remained firm all throughout, neither of them sure if it was to guide her safely or simply to reassure her with his presence.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Walks with Neteyam had shifted from being an obligation to somewhat of an entertainment. They still didn’t speak much, finding peace in the quiet companionship, as they wandered through the forest, away from the eyes of the clan. In those moments, Y/N stopped feeling the pressure of pretending to be happy about her impending union with the future chief, while Neteyam was happy to reconnect with the forest. Since the relocation of the clan to the Hallelujah Mountains, his time in the forest was limited to missions or overseeing his siblings, never to revisiting his past and his roots.

And while to Y/N, this relationship had evolved into a strong foundation for friendship, Neteyam struggled with his growing protectiveness over her. It felt like she might crumble if he wasn't there to watch over, and the mere mention of her past could be her breaking point. These thoughts consumed Neteyam's restless mind, keeping him awake at night. Alongside with them, his frustration towards Kaye and the lack of respect, fueled his anger, as he delivered another forceful hit to his pretend opponent. Was it genuine protectiveness he harbored for Y/N, or was it simply his frustration with Kaye's behavior? Neteyam felt like a hypocrite. 

The future chief groaned in frustration, delivering another calculated strike, disarming his opponent, Kaye. But his anger and irritation were blinding, making Neteyam lose his focus, not necessarily in his movements but within the depths of his mind. He couldn’t stop the attacks. 

Kaye fell into his parents’ trap and mated with a woman of their choosing. Yet, he seemed content with their decision and he had no trouble leaving Y/N behind. Did he ever even love her, or was he simply leading her on all that time? Either way, Kaye had moved on, and Neteyam had to be the one who watched Y/N try to deal with the fact.

Another powerful shove, and Neteyam swiftly toppled his opponent, sending him sprawling onto his back. His spear was aimed threateningly, directly at the vulnerable spot beneath Kaye's throat. Kaye’s eyes widened in fear, as for a fleeting moment, it seemed like Neteyam might not stop. He immediately lowered his ears in a gesture of submission to the future Olo’eyktan.

“Neteyam, that’s enough,” Jake's voice cut through, jolting Neteyam back to reality.

With an almost aggressive shake of a head, as if trying to force away the nagging thoughts, Neteyam took a step back and lowered his spear. The fight was clearly over and he was the winner, but it barely even felt like a victory.

Neteyam exchanged a look with his father, who was confused with his son’s behavior. To Jake, Neteyam was one of his best warriors, always in control of his emotions and precise with his movements, and it was rare that he got to witness him being overtaken with anger. With a loud sigh, Neteyam still complied with the unspoken rule within the camp and extended his hand to his opponent to pull him to his feet.

Oblivious to the fact that the fight was twice as violent because Neteyam had developed a personal vendetta against him, or perhaps he only chose to be ignorant of it, Kaye offered a small, appreciative smile in response to the extended hand, accepting the help. He dusted off his back and thighs, and before Neteyam could sign a goodbye and leave, Kaye quickly moved to stand in his way.

“I need to talk to Y/N,” he announced, forcing Neteyam to stop in his tracks, “You must see her, right?”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, struggling to contain the anger that still hasn’t died down from the fight. Just when he started to get the things moving for himself and Y/N, just when it seemed like Kaye wouldn’t hurt her anymore, he was suddenly wanting to talk to her? She wouldn’t hide if she wanted to see Kaye, would she?

“I think it’s safe to say that she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Neteyam’s voice trembled slightly, “If I were you, I would have kept my distance. Just like you've grown accustomed to doing over the years.”

“Ouch, I guess I deserved that,” Kaye winced at the comment, “Listen, I am truly sorry for the way things turned out but I never meant to hurt her. I just want to apologize.”

Neteyam simply shook his head, indicating that the explanation fell short of convincing him. If Kaye wanted to speak to Y/N, it would only be on her terms, Neteyam certainly wasn’t going to take part in helping him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N sat in front of the healing tent in silence, the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows was turning deeper within each passing minute. She was annoyed with Neteyam, who didn’t show up, but mostly she was annoyed with herself for still being there and waiting for him. Her lesson had ended long ago, their usual routine of going for a walk right after was simply abandoned, and Neteyam was nowhere to be found. She knew that he came home a few hours ago, when she heard the shouts of the warriors, and some even came in for a check-up at the tent. So, if he was safe, it puzzled her why he hadn't come. Did he seize an opportunity and forget to warn her not to wait? 

She shouldn’t be annoyed though. Wasn’t this exactly what she wished for? To spend less time with him, to be left alone. But it didn’t feel like a win at all, just a let-down. The times when Kaye would sometimes stand her up floated her mind with insecurity. Though it didn’t happen often, she got hurt deeply every time. No amount of apologies from Kaye could ever help her overcome the fear of him simply not showing up one day and giving up on her completely. 

Shaking her head, disappointed with herself for wasting time, she stood up, ready to leave. To her surprise, just as she rose, Neteyam appeared right in front of her.

"You waited," he uttered softly, a mix of confusion and gratitude in his voice.

“You made me wait,” she retorted, her irritation impossible to hide as her eyes bore into his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Neteyam raised his palms in the air, offering a defeat.

And that’s when Y/N noticed it. Before she could unleash the angry words she had rehearsed in her mind for the past hour, or fully grasp the tinge of pain in his voice, her eyes caught sight of something. A streak of red smeared across Neteyam's forearms, clumsily wiped but not enough to be completely rid of. Almost as if he tried taking care of it himself and failed miserably. Her amber eyes swiftly traced the path of the color, trailing from his ribcage and vanishing around his body, and without a word she circled him, to find his back, covered in awkwardly arranged leaves. She guessed that Neteyam had placed them himself, since some of the wounds were only partially covered, and there was dried off blood all over his skin.

“Neteyam, what the hell happened to you?” Y/N asked, her eyes turning bigger in shock. How long has he been in pain? Why didn’t he come to the healing tent and get it treated? Her mind was flooded with questions.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled, turning around to face her, though his expression was painted with guilt, “Just a few scratches.”

“These are not just scratches, they look horrible,” Y/N gestured at him once more, “Why didn’t you come to your grandmother? You came home hours ago, no?”

Neteyam flinched at her words. They held the truth, but he didn't want to admit it. There was something embarrassing about getting that many wounds on his back. It meant he hadn't noticed the enemy behind him, which also signified his lack of attentiveness. But how could he pay attention when his whole reality was shifting around him? Neteyam took a step away from her, trying to force a small smile.

“Since you had to wait for so long, let’s go on that walk now, hm? I’ll try to make it up to you,” he tried nonchalantly.

But Y/N was quick to close the distance between him. She grasped his hand and without a word pulled him into the healing tent. Once inside, she gestured for Neteyam to take a seat on one of the rarely used old wooden chairs, thinking that being on her feet would be more convenient when treating his back.

“Seriously, I am okay, we can still go on that walk,” Neteyam tried to reason, but she was already hissing at him in annoyance to stop talking.

His ears lowered in defeat, which he desperately didn’t want to accept, but also secretly had craved. Because even though Neteyam was used to being the one taking care of others, it felt like a sun on his skin, knowing that somebody else was there for him. And he could tell she was mad just by the way she treated him with silence, but the anger was coming from a place of caring.

The wounds he bore were throbbing with pain, located in a difficult-to-reach place. Neteyam hadn't intended to be late; it simply took him longer than expected to dress his injuries. Yet, his heart fluttered with a mixture of relief and gratitude when he spotted Y/N still seated in front of the healing tent, patiently waiting for him. She could have easily left hours ago, so why did she choose to stay?

“You have a whole family of healers, why didn’t you just ask them for help? Why didn’t you ask me?” Y/N sighed.

Neteyam's ears twitched at the touch, a subtle response to the gentleness of her fingers on his back. Soon, the leaf bandages he had grown weary of were being carefully removed, and as she worked, a wave of empathy flowed through her, her tone turning into a softer, more understanding one.

“I know that there is some kind of pride that comes with being the Olo’eyktan’s son, and also this pressure of being perfect and never showing your vulnerabilities. But when you get hurt, Neteyam, none of it should matter.”

“I know, you’re right,” Neteyam admitted guiltily, hanging his head, “I just…”

Y/N tsksed at the incomplete explanation with discontent, taking off the last bandage. Now, fully exposed, Neteyam’s back was covered in multiple gashes arranged at sharp angles around his spine. Fortunately, they hadn't pierced deep enough to cause nerve damage, which meant that Neteyam was quick to react. A damp cloth grazed his skin as Y/N gently wiped away the brown stains of the dried off blood.

“Whether we like it or not, we are a team now,” she continued after a pause, “So you can rely on me.”

He nodded, even though he couldn't see her face. There was a sincerity in her words, something different from before. It didn't feel like mere obligation; it felt like she genuinely meant it, like she truly wanted him to rely on her.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

His earpiece suddenly crackled to life, interrupting the moment, and Neteyam immediately tensed up at the sound of his father’s worried voice. He sat up, and pressed a finger to his wired necklace, speaking into it.

“I am safe, dad, what happened?” Neteyam questioned.

Worried, and unable to hear Jake’s voice on the other end, Y/N quickly came in front of Neteyam, searching his face for clues of what was happening. The future Olo’eyktan seemed to grow more concerned, as he remained quiet to hear his father.

“What is it?” Y/N whispered impatiently, and then she felt it.

Y/N's stomach plummeted as she observed the transformation of Neteyam's expression. What was initially concern now gave way to a haunting mix of guilt and remorse. It was as if he carried the weight of something deeply troubling, something that was unfixable, probably too difficult to say out loud.

“How many of them?” Neteyam spoke again, his eyes still glued to Y/N’s, “And who exactly got shot?”

It felt like the world around her came to a stop, as in these seconds of waiting, Y/N had imagined hundreds of scenarios running through her head. And it could be anything, but the way Neteyam rose to his feet in a hurry, she feared that the worst one was coming to life.

“Is it him?” Y/N’s voice cracked, and Neteyam nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“It is Kaye.”

chapter 5 →

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Leather and Lace - Chapter 22: To Pick a Lock

Summary: The gang discovers a one of your "talents" and puts it to good use.

*This amazing images comes from one of my faves, @papaue00

*Thank you to @readingcoco for beta reading for me! You are amazing!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

“Explain to me how this happens.” 

You stand in front of Arthur, arms extended out as far from your body as possible as you shake out a mud-crusted shirt of his, cautiously squinting as bits of dirt fly through the air in front of your wrinkled-up nose. “Do you literally lay down and roll in mud to get your clothes this dirty?”

“Sometimes,” the man in question shrugs. “Other times we draw straws to see who stands in the middle while the other fellers throw dirt at him.” He snickers as he makes a whipping motion with his arm.

All you can do is give him an exasperated look as your arms drop down in defeat in front of you.

“See, when you say dumb things like that, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” 

Arthur playfully shakes his eyebrows at you as his arm shoots out, snaking around your waist to quickly pin you to his chest, causing you to giggle and squirm as he plants a few teasing kisses along the side of your neck. Standing a few feet away, Abigail can only shake her head at your flirtatious nonsense. 

It’s a brisk fall afternoon, and the sun hangs in the sky like a dollop of golden yellow paint dropped on a canvas of grays and purples. Arthur is helping you with laundry. He’s bored and hovering over you as a means of distracting himself, wanting nothing more than to take you back to your shared tent for something more stimulating. But Ms. Grimshaw is keeping a keen eye on you to make sure you get your chores done. 

With the year well into the fall now, daylight is limited as is the time available to get things done along with it. So rather than dragging you off, Arthur figures it would be best to help out in order to get your work done faster. And by “help”, he means carrying the baskets for you and keeping you company while you wash and hang alongside Abigail. You don’t mind, really. Arthur doesn’t get to spend as much time with you as he’d like and rarely does he ever have “nothing to do”. So you will accept his company in any manner you can get it.

The sound of thunderous hoofbeats echoes into the new camp, causing your small group to lift their collective heads towards the path. A few of the men had gone out earlier this morning and it appears the commotion is a sign of their imminent arrival. Excitable voices carry through the air, wound up and hollering about something. It doesn’t take long before you eventually hear a loud metallic banging sound, coupled with shouts of frustration.

“What in god's name is all the noise?” huffs Abigail, craning her neck in the direction of the racket to try and see through the maze of tents and wagons.

“Who knows.” You toss the newly folded shirt in your hands into the basket at Arthur’s feet with a sigh. “But we should probably look into it before someone ends up losing an eye or a finger,” you snort back with a lofty eye-roll. 

Arthur can only chuckle as he follows after you like a puppy as you head over to investigate. It warms his heart how you’ve taken to looking after everyone in the several months that you’ve been with the gang, becoming more and more like Grimshaw everyday—in a good way, of course. 

You, Abigail, and Arthur amble into the common area, and see Bill, Javier and Micah standing over a table, their attention acutely focused on something set upon its surface, as the rest of the gang jostle to make room for Dutch. 

As you get closer and peer around Bill’s massive trunk of a torso, you realize that the boys have come back to camp with an ornate travel chest. A pounding noise ricochets within your skull, grating against your nerves as Bill beats the lock with a rock in a hopeless attempt to get it open. 

“What’d you all find out there?” questions Arthur, striking a match across the tabletop and lighting the cigarette that precariously hangs from his plump lips. You and Arthur exchange a cynical glance before he curiously eyes the chest then looks to Javier for more details. 

“Found ourselves a fancy box!” quips Javier, his nimble fingers coming up to rub his chin as he watches Bill intently. “And where there’s a fancy box-”

“-There’s even fancier things inside,” finishes Micah with a smirk, his hands twitching by his gun belt as he too anxiously awaits the trunk’s unveiling. 

You try not to chortle as you watch Arthur roll his eyes with trademark skepticism, thumbs coming to rest in his gunbelt as he shifts his weight from hip to hip.

“So why ya beatin’ the damn thing?” Arthur’s head cocks to the side, amused as he watches Bill get more and more frustrated by the second, his face turning red and flustered with each striking blow. You defensively step back from Bill, holding your hands up in front of you to make sure you don't get caught in the swing of his burly arm.

“Tryin’ to get this damn thing open, Morgan!” grunts Bill. “We were in town and saw this rich-looking coach unattended. Seemed like their own fault, so we started digging around inside and found it. Didn’t have time to crack the thing open so we just grabbed it and took off before anyone noticed.”

“Stop banging away at it!” you scold, grabbing Bill’s beefy forearm before he can make another strike. “See that gold leafing along the surface? This is an expensive piece.” You loosen your grip to run your fingertips along the gilding, tracing the fine craftwork with a feather-light touch. “You can sell this trunk alone for $30 to the fence.” 

Bill halts immediately, a bit shocked when he feels your soft hand on him. But he’s also now stumped at how to proceed in opening the chest and looking to you for the answer. Poor Bill, always in a battle between brains and brawn, and unfortunately for him there is only ever going to be one winner. 

A motherly sigh escapes your lips as you shake your head sweetly at Bill. “As usual, all this needs is a little ‘woman’s finesse’,” you purr sweetly. You reach over to Abigail and pluck a hairpin out from her bun, setting yourself down at the table with the box laid out in front of you. The crowd watches silently as your hands rest upon the chest, and you start to wiggle the pin around inside the lock. Within a minute, the lock pops open with a simple and gracefully little clicking sound. 

“There, now. All yours.” You turn the box towards the group of waiting men, with a satisfied smile on your face. They all look at you, stunned as to what just happened, but then quickly begin to dig into the mysterious case. And they are not disappointed. Inside they find cash, jewelry, bonds and other precious mementos belonging to the previous owner. You lean forward with your chin resting in your hand, watching as they excitedly pull items out to admire.

Bill plucks something out of the box and hands it to you. “Here you go, Y/N. There’s your cut.” 

Accepting the glittering item from his meaty bear-paw, you roll it in your hand, instantly realizing it’s a broach. He gives you an earnest smile, proud of himself for landing such a score. Bill is always such a beast of a man, not graceful in the slightest. But he does always try to be gentle around you, at least.

“Why, thank you, Sir,” you grin in return, admiring the beautiful jade-green stone that nests in a filigree of polished silver.

“Where did you learn how to do that, Y/N?” asks Abigail as she, too, begins to curiously finger through the jewelry inside.

“I have friends who taught me when I was in Rosewood.”

“How do you have friends that know how to pick locks?” asks Javier incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, before meeting us, that is.” He gives you his suave smile and a wink.

A demure little grin pops across your face, relishing the idea that you can still surprise these people, even after all these months. Your chin coquettishly dips to your shoulder. 

“Never you mind, Javier. A woman needs a little mystery.” 

“Wait a minute, you never said you knew how to pick a lock!” Arthur turns his attention from the stack of cash in front of him to face you now, fully realizing what you’ve just said.

“You never asked,” you reply plainly with a simple shrug. 

Micah lets out a patronizing little huff. “Maybe you should be doing a little more talking at night in your tent, cowpoke,” teases Micah. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t concern yourself with what’s happening in my tent at night,” Arthur shoots back with a glare. 

“Hold on,” Dutch interjects with annoyance, his hands raised in the air to silence everyone as he acutely directs his attention towards you. “Are you saying you can do this with any lock?” 

You shrug again. “I don’t know if I’d say any lock,” your voice somewhat uncertain under Dutch’s intense gaze, ”but probably.” 

“Why the hell am I just hearing this now?!” Dutch huffs, planting his hands onto his hips. But before you can answer him, you see an idea forming in that deceptive mind of his, coiling like fog creeping through the valley in the morning. “Ho, ho, have I got an idea, gentleman,” he smirks, tapping his ringed finger against his mustached lips. 

“There’s a bank over in Red Rock that I’ve been eyein’. But I’m told it's next to the law office— strategically placed there to ward off robberies. Any attempt on it would have to be quiet. No shooting, no explosions of any kind.” Dutch shakes his finger at you. “If we can get her in there, into that vault-”

“Now, hold on a minute, Dutch. Y/N ain’t ready for anything like that,” Arthur cuts in, his hand waving firmly against the very idea of it. You watch his handsome face immediately turning into a deep, disapproving scowl.

“Well, she’s gonna have to be ready sometime,” argues Dutch. “I ain’t about to let a resource like her go to waste.” He counters as he waves his hand in your direction. “Besides, you’ll be there, too Arthur, and we all know you ain’t gonna let anything happen to her”. 

Dutch is right about that. Arthur would sooner take a bullet himself than put you in harm’s way. But still, the very idea of you being in danger sets his stomach turning. It’s the thing that he’s dreaded the most ever since you met, let alone started your relationship. He can’t fathom intentionally endangering you, yet he doesn’t want to disobey Dutch, either. The conflict is apparent on Arthur’s chiseled face as his eyes skip to the treeline, trying to find a suitable excuse to get you out of it. But all Dutch needs to do is shoot Arthur that glare to put him back in his place. 

When satisfied that Arthur’s silence means that he has succumbed to his will yet again, Dutch turns back to you. “You continue to amaze me, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice floats with that smooth, silky tone he uses when he needs to seduce people into doing his bidding, even against their better judgment. Like a snake that lures its prey, the man can be almost hypnotic when he needs to be. But you’ve never felt directly threatened by Dutch…until now. 

A slight chill dances up your spine as you stare at him with your large doe-eyes, an animal trapped by a hunter. And all you can do is sit there mutely as they all begin to discuss how to best use your newly-discovered “talent”. 

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

The crisp autumn breeze caresses your face, lifting the rogue strands of hair from your cold cheeks as you find yourself standing on the edge of the street. Across the way is the large green building that will be your target. It is adorned with black window-shutters and trim and looms ominously over you. A large sign hangs above the entry doors:  Red Rock Savings and Loan. The letters leer at you in an almost mocking and intimidating way. You try in vain to swallow, your mouth dry as the desert. Fingers betray a slight shake as you fidget with your hair and nervously smooth out the skirt of your emerald green dress for the third time in the last five minutes. 

You are going to be on your own for the first part of Dutch’s plan. You take a deep breath, slowly letting it out through trembling lips in an attempt to quell the butterflies in your stomach, going over the scheme one last time in your head. Your palms are sweaty, even in the chill air, and you continually wipe them along your hips, before absentmindedly playing with your hair yet again.

And then it dawns on you:  you are not sure if you can do this. What if Arthur is right and you really aren’t ready? You’ve never done anything like this before in your life. You’ve listened to the wild escapades of your fellow gang members but have never actively participated yourself. The most you’ve ever done is act as a decoy, never actually getting your own hands dirty. This will be your first act at truly committing a crime. 

What if something goes wrong? Will you have the where-with-all to know what to do? Could you ever defend yourself if something needed to be done? Arthur and the others will be there to protect you, but what if you are a liability to them? What if they need you to help them? You know how to shoot a gun, as you’ve hunted with Arthur and Charles plenty of times. But to point a gun at a person, to look them in the eye as you pull the trigger, that is something else entirely. If the nightmares and restless nights that Arthur has, ones that he pretends don’t happen, are any indication, the weight of taking someone else’s life leaves a heavy burden on one’s soul. Are you ready for that?

But as you stand there in the street, you eventually force yourself to steel your nerves with a slow deep breath. Closing your eyes, focusing on how your heart beats in your chest, the monotonous thumping echoes in your ears. You are part of the notorious Van Der Linde gang, you tell yourself. You are Arthur Morgan’s woman. And it is about damn time that you act like it. 

Your life before joining the gang, before meeting Arthur, had always been at the mercy of others, being subservient to the demands of men and your class. You have always done what was right and proper, falling in line with other people’s expectations and look where it got you: family name in tatters, your father gone, assaulted by the men who killed him, and left destitute by the high society that had pretended to care. 

But you are past that now. No need to hide in the shadows, no need to take anyone’s bullshit anymore. If joining Dutch Van Der Linde’s gang has taught you anything, it’s that. Running with a gang allows you to be free to do as you please and you do not have to answer to anyone. 

You need to pull from the strength of your new family, as they are counting on you. Arthur is counting on you. No turning back now. And with a grin of determination on your lips, you lift your chin, shaking off the last bit of nervous energy, and get into character to boldly stride over to the bank. 

You pull open the heavy wooden door, gliding confidently through the opening. Remembering all of Hosea’s training, your sparkling eyes take-in the scene as you stand at the threshold: Large room, main exit behind you, hallway towards the back that must lead to the vault and safes. You can’t tell if there is a second exit or not. (Arthur says ‘Always gotta know how you can get in and get out.’) Three tellers to your right, a ring of desks with other bank personnel to your left. All in all, with customers, you have twelve people to account for. 

The bank lobby is fairly large to accommodate a town of this size. You look up to see the clock about to strike 4:00 in the afternoon, a time strategically picked so that there is money in the vault from a full day’s transactions, and close enough to the encroaching nightfall to cover the escape that will eventually come. 

You stride over to the first available teller who comfortably sits behind the counter, your heels confidently clicking on the floorboards as you move.The squat, bespectacled man looks up from his newspaper as you approach his counter. 

“How may I help you today, Miss?” He is a mousey little man, very bookish and unassuming in his worn tan suit. His hazel eyes are made to appear larger by the bottle lenses of his glasses as he blinks expectantly at you. 

“I would like to talk to someone about opening an account here,” you inform him in your most authoritative tone. “My husband and I recently arrived in this area and are in need of getting our affairs in order.”

He looks past you into the lobby. “And where is your husband? Will we be waiting for him to assist you?” he asks.  

A slow, deliberate inhale gets pulled through your nose in aggravation. You bite your tongue and give a forced smile. “Sir, I will have you know that I do not need my husband with me to handle our finances. I know quite well how to manage our money, as we have quite a bit of it thanks to me.”

The teller shrinks back a bit at your angry, snapping comments which are now causing a bit of a scene amongst the small crowd within the lobby. 

“My husband is occupied elsewhere, making arrangements to have our cattle moved to our new ranch and does not have time for such things,” you continue. “He handles the labor, I handle the business. But, if you do not want to help me, simply because I am a woman, then I can certainly take my business and my money elsewhere.” Your eyes burn into the teller, making his insides cringe.

“Excuse me.” You hear a nervous throat clearing as a man in a tailored black suit interrupts the conversation and steps up beside you at the counter. “I couldn’t help but overhear the commotion. By all means, we will be more than happy to assist you with your money, Madame.” He sweeps his arm out towards one of the desks on the other side of the room and encourages you to follow him to sit. “Mr. Ferris,” he hisses back at the teller. “Stop badgering the customers! If the lady wants to open an account to secure her money here, then by all means, let’s assist her.”

The poor teller’s eyes shoot open. “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss, I…I didn’t mean anything by it,” he stammers, adjusting his thick glasses on his nose. “I’m sorry if I offended you. It’s just-”

“It’s just that you don’t see many women with such influence, I assume. Well, Mr. Ferris, you’d be surprised at what a woman can do.” And with an indignant flourish of your skirt, you spin on your heels to follow the other banker as he pulls out a chair for you to sit at his desk. Once he is sure you are comfortably seated, the banker fixes his tie and smooths his hand over his hair before taking a seat across from you. 

“I apologize, Mrs…” he leans towards you, eyebrows raised expectantly for the proper introduction. 

“Callahan. Mrs. Callahan,” you reply with yet another forced smile. 

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Callahan,” the banker confirms the name to himself, trying to work out if he recognizes it from affluent society circles. “So,” he clears his throat, “you need to set up an account with our bank, is that what I am understanding?”

“Yes, that’s right.” And you proceed to spin your web of lies about how you and your cattleman husband have traveled across the state to find a new ranch for your burgeoning cattle business that has grown two-fold in the past year. With new property in the process of being purchased, your husband is securing the land and overseeing the move of the herd, while you are here in town to get your affairs in order:  banking setup, food and provisions acquired, things of that nature.

You smugly watch the banker’s face grow more and more interested at the prospect of such a prosperous new client, as he eagerly takes notes as you speak. You lay it on thick, too, casually bragging about your fictitious husband’s endeavors, with a nonchalant wave of your dainty hand, but not so much as to be too unbelievable, just as the socialites and high-born used to do back east. 

It is amusing to you how easily you are able to slip back into the social lifestyle that you were so readily willing to leave behind. It’s always a matter of presentation and flourish, a constant upkeep of appearances. It’s that ‘cat and mouse’ game that you never cared for. You never thought you were that good at it, but it seems to be rather advantageous for you now. It is amazing to watch how eager and greedy people are, wanting to get a part of something that they themselves do not possess. Basically, you feed Mr. Bagby the life of one of the families you had known. You change the topic from “real estate” to “cattle” but it’s the same setup, the same panache. And just as enticing to the banker.

“Well, that sounds just fine. All well and good!” he replies excitedly. “We can certainly take care of you, Mrs. Callahan. My name is Mr. Bagby. Raymond Bagby. And if there is anything you or your husband need, well you just be sure and let me know.” His eyes light up at the idea of such a wealthy new prospect coming into town that he can latch his greedy fingers onto.

“Thank you, Mr. Bagby.” You give him a smug, self-satisfied little grin. “I do appreciate th-“

Suddenly, the doors to the bank are flung open and a handful of men with bandannas around their faces storm in. The small crowd of people gasp at the sight, with one of the older women stifling a scream. You jump in your chair at the loud commotion, your hand shooting to your chest. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery,” one of the men announces, his low gravelly voice commanding over the crowd of cowering townsfolk. He is broad and tall, with a leather trench coat that hangs off his frame perfectly. He brandishes a large pistol in each black gloved hand while a shotgun hangs conveniently across his wide back. “I highly suggest you keep quiet and cooperate and this will be over shortly.” He carries himself with a bravado and swagger, one that instantly lets everyone know that he is not to be questioned. His stony gaze passes over the collective group, alert to any minute movement.

Your eyes shift to the employees and patrons as they cower in fear. The look of horror skips across their faces as the realization that they could die right here and now settles into their scattered minds. 

“Everyone, down on their knees. Now!” another burly man shouts, his shotgun prominently displayed across his body. A few shrieks of panic echo through the room, but everyone quickly complies. 

“Everything will be alright, miss,” Mr. Bagby whispers to you, patting your hand in a feeble attempt to comfort you. “Just do as they say and you’ll be fine.”

You nod your head in understanding, averting your fearful eyes to the ground as you crouch down to the floor with the others.

The man who is apparently the ringleader of this event walks into the back where the vault is, his movement seems to glide in a way that belies a man of his stature, his calmness about such a thing almost unsettling. He points his gun at the row of tellers he passes before disappearing down the short hallway towards the safe. Meanwhile, the rest of his group stands at attention in his absence. One man wearing a dark gray hat and jacket stands guard at the door with his revolver at the ready, watching for any incomers. Two others survey the room, making sure no one tries anything stupid.

Until finally, the other large man with the shotgun lets his eyes land on you, sitting hunched up uneasily on the floor. 

“Well well, ain’t you pretty!” He strides over and leans down to get a better look at you. “Maybe you should keep my friend in the back company, hmm? He’s been awfully lonely lately,” he chuckles with a sickeningly sweet voice.

“I’d rather die!” you spit out stubbornly, pitching a heated glare at the man.

“Oh, that can be arranged, ma’am. I guarantee.” He reaches down and roughly grabs your arm, abruptly yanking you to your feet. You try to push against his burly chest, but the man is simply no match for you as he towers over your height. 

“Leave her be, you animal!” shouts Mr. Bagby. 

The robber seems more amused than anything at the empty threat, saying nothing but simply turns and points his shotgun at Mr. Bagby, the barrel inches from his face. A gasp of alarm escapes your lips, your heart leaping into your throat, as you are terrified that this is the moment when shots will start to be fired.  

“Please, don’t!” you shout in a panic, eyes blazing with a newfound fear in them as they dart back and forth between the two men.

All color drains from the banker’s thin face as his beady eyes slowly move from the end of the barrel up to you, and then back to the robber before he settles down into submission. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” chuckles the robber in smug satisfaction. He then proceeds to drag you across the room behind him as you desperately try to pry his thick fingers from your bicep. 

“I got a little something for you, my friend!” he announces as you make your way towards the vault room. The man kicks the door open with his heavy muddy boot and heaves you through the doorway before slamming the door closed behind you. 

You stumble into the room, recovering from the violent shove, and straighten up to come face to face with the other robber who watches you with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. A smile begins to form on your lips. 

“Is Bill always that handsy with women?” you ask.

Arthur pulls down his bandanna, exposing his face as he chuckles. “No. Actually, I think he’s afraid of ‘em, to be honest”.  

You’d be lying if you said that Arthur’s raw masculinity doesn’t excite you right now. The adrenaline that is pumping through your body is exhilarating, causing your whole body to tingle with electricity. And seeing Arthur calm and collected as if this were just another chore back at camp is an amazing thing to witness. 

It is hard not to stare at his thick muscled arms as he works over the surface of the grand safe. His face carries such intensity, making the green and amber flecks that ring his blue irises even more pronounced as if he were possessed by something otherworldly. Were it not for the group of innocent bystanders in the other room, the desire to reach out and touch him would consume you. 

But no time for that now. A quick shake to your head to refocus and you quickly walk to the back wall where the row of heavy safes are. Arthur works on the dial combination of the larger vault, while you pull a few pins out of your wristlet and begin picking the locks of the smaller, personal safes. Your heart beats loudly in your ears as your fingers work over the cool metal, knowing that the law could be upon you at any moment. 

Not a word is spoken between you and Arthur as you focus on your work, the only sounds in the room besides your nervous breathing are the gentle tinkling of the metal locks being forced open and the soft creaking of their door hinges. You manage to get four of the coffers open quickly with little issue. They are filled with cash and coins, jewelry, bonds and deeds, all of which get dumped into a large leather saddle bag. 

Arthur keeps track of the time as you work, periodically checking his pocket watch. He is always mindful not to get too greedy on these jobs. Best to stick to the timeline and get what you can, rather than push your luck and risk getting caught. The plan is to be in and out in fifteen minutes before the bank is due to close. ‘Live to fight another day’, as they say. And keeping a mental note in his head, Arthur determines that you’ve been here long enough. 

Deciding that the two of you have collected more than enough, Arthur adjusts the contents of the overstuffed saddle bag before he ties it shut. Smirking at you, Arthur pulls his bandanna back up over his face. 

“Ya done good, girl,” he praises as he hoists the saddle bags over his broad shoulders. “You ready to finish this?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Your voice is a quaking whisper, filled with nervous energy as the realization suddenly hits you that you still have to make it out of the bank, yet. Robbing the bank is one thing. Getting away with it is something else, entirely.

“Alright, then. Remember, just act natural, we’ll do the rest,” he nods to you, placing a comforting hand on your arm as you give Arthur a tentative smile in return. The look of nervous fear on your face is not much of an act, but of true feelings, to be honest. Your eyes rim with the slightest bit of moisture as your lashes begin to flutter with anxiety. Arthur quickly notices how your chest begins to rapidly float up and down and your fingers fidget against your palms.

“Hey,” he pulls his mask down again, stepping up closer to you until you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. His eyes are like the ocean, endless and all encompassing as he stands over you. “Remember our deal? You look out for me and I’ll look out for you. Got it?” His voice is low and calm, centering you before you get too lost in your thoughts of doubt or hesitation, for it is hesitation that will derail any best-laid plan.

The cool feeling of Arthur’s leather gloves against your tender skin as his heavy hand cups your face settles your nerves. And the worry begins to ebb away, knowing that you will be as safe as you can be with him. Arthur won’t ever let anything happen to you. And it is within this commanding, yet calming aura that the outlaw carries within himself that you can find a sense of peace. 

A quick, sharp breath gets pushed past your pink lips as your head gives a short nod in confirmation. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.” He winks as he pulls the bandanna up again. 

This is it, the grand finale. If you and Arthur can get the gang out of the bank in one piece, you’re gold.

Arthur abruptly opens the door again and roughly shoves you through it back towards the lobby for the last bit of the show. 

“Sit down!” he yells, tossing you to the floor in a heap into the middle of the room. “Goddamn useless woman!” You say nothing in return, hiding your face in what appears to be fear.

Arthur then turns his attention back to the room of nervous onlookers and fellow thieves. “Thank you kindly, people, for your cooperation. Sit still and quiet and no one will get hurt,” he announces with an all too casual tone. As his dusty boots carry him across the room, he strikes one of the cowering men in the face with the butt of his gun to make his point. 

“If anyone even thinks about leaving to go get the law, we’ve got a shooter on that rooftop over there.” Arthur points his gloved finger through the window. “He’ll drop you dead the minute you open that door.”

And just as quickly as it had begun, the group of bank robbers swiftly ducks out of the building without so much as a creaking floorboard in their wake. 

The group of you sit there on the floor of the bank, stunned and quiet, each looking at the door in case the thieves should decide to come back. After about five minutes, you are the one to break the stifling and tenuous silence.

“Are you all going to just sit there and let them rob us?!” you demand, scanning the faces of the patrons. You are quite the actress. If only Hosea could see you right now, how proud he would be. 

No one moves out of sheer fear, staring at you with the eyes of terrified lambs as if you are crazy-talking. ‘Good Lord, these people are ripe for the picking’ you think to yourself.

“Who’s ‘us’? You don’t have any money here, yet. Remember?” one of the women in attendance hisses at you. “Keep your mouth shut, or else you’ll get people shot!”

But you disregard her warning. “Go get the sheriff!” you screech at the man laying next to you, who just stares back at you with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “Go!” you reiterate, waving your hand towards the door. With no one else stepping forward, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation, hoping to draw the lawmen towards the bank and not out looking for the gang, buying them more time.

The poor man startles at the sound of your shrill voice and sprints to his feet as if he’s not sure if he is more afraid of the robbers or you. He trips over himself as he quickly makes his way across the room. He cautiously ducks his head as he opens the door, mindful of the shooter you were all warned about. Everyone else waits with paralyzing apprehension. When no shots are fired, the man proceeds to stumble out the door. 

Now that the tension is broken, the people are abuzz with activity. Loud, nervous chatter fills the lobby as one of the women rushes to the man Arthur had struck in the face earlier. Within a few moments, the local sheriff and a handful of lawmen come barreling in through the bank doors. 

“Alright everyone, calm down. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” the sheriff declares, trying to assess the situation. “Carl, take a few men and post them on either end of the town. If those sons-a-bitches are still here, they won’t get too far.” 

The sheriff proceeds to get statements from everyone in attendance and eventually makes his way to you. 

“This one, Sheriff,” Mr. Bagby points at you as his agitated body ambles to stand next to you. “This lady was tossed in with that heathen.” 

“Is that so?” The sheriff eyes you up and down. 

“This is Mrs. Callahan, Sheriff,” Mr. Bagby nervously prattles on. “This here is Sheriff Langston, our top lawman, Ma’am.” You extend your arm to shake hands at the introduction. The sheriff is an average height, medium build, but nothing too impressive. He is clean-cut and neat, obviously taking his position of authority very seriously. 

“Are you alright, ma’am? Did they hurt you in any way?”

“No, no I’m fine,” you huff in an exasperated tone. “They just shoved me around, is all.”

“Any idea who they are? Where they may be headed? Did they say anything to you?” the lawman presses.

“How would I know?! I wasn’t exactly paying that close attention,” you snap in annoyance at the barrage of questions. “They were filthy, I can tell you that much. The big one had red mud caked all over his boots.”

“Red mud?” Langston ponders, turning to look at one of the deputies.

“Yes, red mud. Why?” Your eyebrows furrow in exaggerated agitation. 

The sheriff’s face twists up, lips pursed in thought for a moment as if piecing something together in his mind. “We have caves outside the western side of town. They’re covered in red clay. Would make a perfect hideout for a group of outlaws.”

“Not far from the rail line, too,” agrees the deputy. “That could be their way out, Frank.”

The sheriff nods in agreement. “Head on over there, see what you come up with.” The sheriff turns back to you with a self-satisfied smile. “Thank you, ma’am. You may have just led us right to those bastards.” (More like led them in the exact opposite direction of those bastards. And your heart settles a bit knowing that the law has taken your bait.)

“Good! Serves them right, attacking innocent people like that,” you snap with disdain dripping from your words like rainwater. A silent prayer of thanks rolls in your mind that not only does the sheriff not suspect you as an accomplice, but you have led them away from your friends, and more importantly Arthur.

Sheriff Langston looks you over, contemplating what to do with you next. “It’s getting dark soon. It won’t be safe for you to be walking around unchaperoned, especially since you’re a witness to a crime. These thieves may be looking for you.” His lips get pulled in slightly as he tentatively bites down in thought. “I don’t know what your plans are, ma’am, but you should stay here in town where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s necessary,” you brush him off with a nonchalant wave, standing as if to take your leave. 

“‘Fraid I’m going to have to insist, ma’am.” The lawman moves to block you from the door, his hands held up and halting you where you stand. “We’ll escort you to the hotel for safe keeping. The owner there is a friend of mine. In fact, I’ll keep an eye on you myself, at least until your husband arrives, that is. It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve been through.” 

You can’t help but notice how his dark eyes cast over your form with a slight hint of a smile on his lips as he speaks. It’s slight, almost imperceptible, but you've seen that look in a man’s eyes before and a boulder drops on your stomach, making you slightly nauseous.

Shit. This was not part of the plan. And you have to be careful with how you handle this, as you are all on your own to do it. You expected to be questioned by the law, making sure that they have no information or lead to the gang, and then released. You are supposed to meet Arthur by the garden wall alongside the mill by nightfall. If you don’t show up, he’ll worry. And then God knows what he’ll do. 

“Alright, then. If you think that’s what’s best, Sheriff,” you reply with your best fake smile, hoping that the sheriff will take your uneasiness as a reaction to the robbery and not your reluctance to stay. You can’t seem too eager to leave. If the sheriff gets even an inkling that you were in on the job, he’d hang you for sure. A cold sweat begins to mist across your chest under the silk layers of your dress as your fingertips start to tingle and go numb. 

And so you concede to go along with whatever he suggests, playing the “innocent victim” as best as you can.

—----------------------------------

By the time everything is said and done at the bank, night has begun to drape its shadowy blanket upon the town. The moon casts its milky all-knowing eye over you and Sheriff Langston as you head down the steps of the bank together. Using a lantern to guide you, the sheriff's hand catches your elbow and leads you down the street and over to the hotel. You go along amicably, as to not rouse suspicion, and all the while, the sheriff babbles on and on with small talk in a feeble attempt at light flirtation. 

Arriving at the modest hotel, the lawman checks you in, the hotel owner assigning you a room with a nod. You graciously accept the key and quickly bid the sheriff goodnight. 

“Oh no, I’m going to have to stay with you while you’re here,” Langston asserts smoothly, leaving no room for argument.

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” you sputter, eyes shooting open to your hairline in shock at his brazenness. 

“What if someone tries to break in on you? No, I’ll feel much better if I have eyes on you at all times.”

“I’m sure you would,” you mumble. Desperately trying to mask your frustration, you turn and head up the stairs with the man in tow behind you. You only make it up to the third step before you feel his hand on your lower back. Your skin shudders at the touch of the sheriff’s fingertips, and you try not to bristle too much because of it. If Arthur were to see this, he’d surely plant his fist into the man’s face. And in the depths of your ever-tightening chest, you are not sure if that would be a bad thing or not. 

The hotel room is simple, but pleasant. But you have no designs on staying long. Your eyes skip about to take inventory of your surroundings, trying to devise a plan on getting the hell out of here before the sheriff gets too comfortable. You stand in the middle of the room, hands continuously turning over each other with a white-knuckled grip. 

Sheriff Langston must sense your apprehension, though. He studies you out of the corners of his eyes as he sets about the room to light the oil lamps, their amber glow quickly illuminating the space. “Can I get you anything while we’re here, miss?” he asks you in an attempt to put you at ease while in his presence. 

“Missus,” you pointedly remind him. “Mrs. Callahan.” You shoot him a stern look, giving him that unspoken warning that you are not ignorant and know exactly what it is that he’s hoping for. 

Langston smiles with faux innocence. “Right. Mrs. Callahan.”

“I’d love some hot coffee, please. If you don’t mind, Sheriff.”

“Sure. I’ll have the kitchen send some up.” He opens the door and steps out into the hall but your hopes plummet when instead of going down to get it himself, Sheriff Langston yells down the stairs to have coffee brought up for you. Damn. You were hoping to get him out of the room, giving you time to go out the window or something. The icy reality settles over you that this man will not be letting you out of his sight. 

After about ten minutes, one of the hotel maids arrives at the door with a tray with a steaming pot and two cups prettily displayed upon an embroidered linen. The sheriff takes the tray from the woman with a nod of thanks and places it down on the table in the middle of the room to allow you to fix yourself a cup. 

“There we are. This should do the trick,” he grins at you.

You offer a small smile in appreciation and float towards the table, careful to place yourself on the opposite side of him. Sheriff Langston circles around, striding over to the window located on the wall behind you. The fact that his dark gaze cascades over your backside as he passes is not lost on you, either. The sheriff casually pulls back the curtain with his two fingers, looking out into the street for any activity. 

“Do you like cream or sugar in your coffee, Sheriff?” you ask sweetly. 

“Just a bit of sugar, ma’am. I like sweet things.” The words purr from his lips with a slow and unsettling drawl.

“Of course, you do,” you reply with just the hint of sarcasm. Turning your back as you set out the two cups, your fingers pull a small vial of nightshade out of your cleavage. You thank the heavens that you thought to bring it and discreetly pour its contents into his cup. Adding the steaming dark liquid from the coffee pot overtop, you plunk a sugar cube in and sir until the contents are finely mixed. A gratified grin dusts your lips as you tap the silver spoon along the cup's porcelain edge. 

You turn around and stride across the floor, skirts swishing around your feet and hand the sheriff his cup with a demure little smile before sipping from your own. “How long do we have to wait here?”

“Until sunup,” Langston quips. “By then, I’ll check in with the boys and see if they tracked down that gang.” His eyes rake over you again as he sips from his cup, that same cold and uneasy feeling washing over you as your mind jolts to the knife Javier gave you that is tucked into your high-lace shoe. 

“Don’t you worry, ma’am, I’ll catch ‘em. I don’t abide by that sort of thing in my town. They think they can walk in here and rob me right under my nose and get away with it?” he scoffs.

“They robbed the bank, not you,” you remind him.

“Same difference.” Sheriff Langston offers a dismissive wave at your seemingly irrelevant point. “Either way, they ain’t getting away with it, mark my words. I'll shoot first and ask questions later if it comes to it.” He cocks his head just slightly, reaching up to remove his hat and tossing it on the bed behind you. “Not in my town.”

You nod in understanding and wander over to the balcony doors for some fresh air and to put some much-needed distance between the two of you. You step out onto the landing that overlooks the street below, trying to get away from the sheriff's incessant staring. You are desperately hoping the nightshade kicks in before this sheriff gets bolder with his obvious interest in you. The sheriff is not a large man, such as Arthur or Bill, but he is still larger than you and your mind begins to search for ways to defend yourself if necessary. With your hands resting on the railing, you look out over the side and anxiously sigh. 

While lost in your thoughts, your gaze falls to the shadows of the mercantile building across the street. Smoldering in the dark there, you notice the red pin-point glow of a cigarette end. Squinting to get a better look, you see a figure cloaked in the darkness, and softly smile as you instantly recognize the silhouette of the broad shoulders that you know so well. The silvery moonlight highlights the edges of that familiar worn gambler’s hat and your anxiety instantly melts. A wave of relief washes over you and you suddenly feel more emboldened, knowing that your beloved is mere feet from you should you need him. You are not alone. You never were.

Knowing the sheriff is behind you, you carefully lift your hands slightly off the rail and flatly cross them in front of you, a signal to Arthur not to come for you as it’s not safe for him. But he’s seen you and knows that you’re okay, at least for now. So he’ll wait, watching vigilantly over you until he can get you out of town safely.

—-------------------------------

A few hours go by, and you quietly collect yourself to head out of the room. The sheriff sits slumped over in a chair, the white coffee cup laying precariously on the floor next to him, deposited there by the hand that dangles limply above it. He’ll be knocked-out for a bit, with a nasty headache when he wakes, but you’ll be long gone by then.

The sun is nowhere close to being up yet. The whole hotel is dark with the inhabitants slumbering quietly in their rooms, the occasional snoring to be heard behind closed doors. Creeping down the stairs, you move slowly and carefully as your feet pad soundlessly upon the wooden steps. You glide imperceptibly past the front desk where the clerk is sleeping with his feet propped up on the wood, passed out in a deep slumber. Just a few more feet and you are able to slink out the front door with no one the wiser.

You cautiously step out into the street, looking both directions for any signs of life. Everything is dark and empty, not even a stray dog out at this time of night. The faint sounds of the night owls in the trees is the only thing to indicate that time has not stopped altogether. With a sigh of relief, you begin to head down the road towards the edge of town. Since no one is awake and out yet, you should be able to walk right out without even being noticed. The only witnesses to your escape are the shimmering stars above as they hang in the ink-black sky.

And it doesn’t take too long before you hear the melodic beat of a horse’s hooves behind you and that familiar voice that you are waiting to hear. 

“You lost, pretty lady?” 

The gravelly voice floats in the air like a tether to anchor yourself to. You close your eyes and release a slow exhale of gratitude, knowing that you are indeed safe now. Your flower-petal lips turn up into a soft and comforted smile at the very thought of your protective cowboy being a mere breath’s distance from you.

“Nope.” A contented sigh escapes your chest. “I know exactly where I need to be.” 

You slowly turn around and look up at the handsome rider as he leans out on the saddlehorn. Even in the dark, you can see Arthur’s beautiful eyes as the moonlight shines down and casts his body in a silvery backlight, the edge catching upon his face. 

“I could use a ride, though.” Your whole face radiantly lights up at your statement as the two of you stand quiet for a moment, taking each other in. 

A sense of deep pride fills you as one thought rings prominently in your mind above all others:  ‘I did it.’

**ok I know this isn’t my best work. Writer’s block is a cruel bitch. But, this is meant to be a turning point in my reader’s/oc’s development. Things will get harder from here, as we will get into the game story now, with the events of Blackwater coming up.

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

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

[piperlivingdeliberately]

or a headcannon of how the relationship with Hazel callahan evolved, the first time they held hands, first make out, first time together

I LOVE THIS YAY

I think the reader and Hazel would develop feelings for each other around the same time. Whether they have class together, or they meet in the fight club, whatever!

As much as I love friends to lovers and years of slow-burn pining, I think Hazel's too much of a nervous wreck to survive that. You probably would start out as someone who she suddenly noticed was gorgeous. So, naturally, she would become incapable of properly speaking to you.

She would be incredibly obvious when she has a crush on you. Constantly being caught staring at you from across the room by her friends, stalking your instagram and panicking when she accidentally likes a picture from four months ago, apologizing profusely when she accidentally bumps into you in the hallway and cursing herself for being so awkward when she finally walks away.

Like I said, you'd notice her around the same time--probably through her blatant staring--and take interest. Even if you were as embarrassing as she was, she would never notice the signs.

Realizing this fact, you would make subtle moves every time you saw her. You'd compliment her outfit, ask her a question about the material you were learning in class, congratulate her after a successful spar. This would continue until you could comfortably call yourselves acquaintances.

After many observations of these interactions, PJ and Josie would realize your motives. They would desperately try to convince Hazel to ask you out, probably taking full days to do so.

She would finally be convinced when you "casually" brushed her arm as you laughed at her joke. She would be taken over by her feelings, blurting an invitation to a movie or a diner before she even processed what she was doing.

She would be even more surprised when you excitedly said yes. Internal panic would take over any feelings of excitement. She would be so anxious about what to wear to your date, trying on dozens of outfits and spraying five different colognes before realizing that she smelled like a middle school boy.

All of her nerves would be eased when you finally met up. Your beauty was one thing, but the way you lit up when she approached you made her anxiety melt away.

The first date would be very wholesome. Hazel making lots of jokes, you making lots of flirty comments to watch her blush, her fighting you to pay the bill at the end of the night.

You would give her a quick, chaste goodbye kiss after several minutes of tentative staring. Of course, she would replay this four-second-kiss in her brain until it was burned into the back of her eyelids.

You would have a few more dates in the following weeks in which you would realize that Hazel is the absolute best date-planner. Seriously, she should have her own TV show.

She would take you to so many fun places to see so many cool things, always ending the night with deep conversations and lingering kisses.

After a couple of weeks, she would work up the nerve to invite you to sleep over. Watching movies in her bed would turn into your first cuddle session which would turn into your first makeout session.

Both of your hands would begin to wander, snaking over each other's bare skin until someone needed to pull away for a breather.

"I've never done... anything like this before," Hazel would confess to you bashfully during this break between kisses. You would assure her that you were just as new to it as she was. She would take so much comfort in knowing that you also wanted to take it slow. You would finish out the night with the TV still playing, tangled in each other's arms.

The following morning, she would nervously ask you to be her girlfriend as she cooked breakfast. Your enthusiastic "yes" sparked another heated kiss and caused the pancakes to begin burning.

Many weeks, movies, and makeouts later would come your first "I love you". It would be a casual moment that you two had grown so fond of; your head on her chest as she ran her fingers through your hair.

The feeling of you in her arms would just overwhelm her in that moment until she couldn't keep it a secret anymore. She would whisper it so quietly that you would have to pick your head up and ask her to repeat herself. She would lose her courage for a moment, but after much prompting, she would confess once again.

You would return the statement and kiss her with so much passion that you thought your bodies might melt together. As the kiss progressed, you would gain the courage to ask her if she wanted to take your clothes off. She would nod so furiously, causing you to laugh as you gently undressed each other.

The sex would be soft and full of love. Since neither of you would be very experienced, you would just take your time learning each other's bodies, switching up often to try as much as you could.

After your exhausted finishes, you would cuddle up in your usual fashion and fall back into the routine you had grown so used to with your love. <3

[wildfloweroutlaw]

Long Kept Secrets

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: Arthur Morgan X Female Reader

drabble: fluff, mutual pining, something sweet and simple.

summary: Arthur invites you along on one of his adventures, and it becomes harder and harder for him to keep his feelings to himself.

a/n: this is just a little something to dip my toes back into writing. I have nitpicked tf out of this and i still don’t really like it, but here it is!

word count: 3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You found yourself standing on the edge of Clemens Point, staring out over the peaceful water, and sipping your morning coffee slowly. The heat and humidity were actually tolerable this early, making this your favorite time of the day. Behind you, the rest of camp was beginning to come alive, some strolling from their tents groggily, some gathered around the coffee pot. However, you noticed one individual was missing.

Arthur was always up before you were, and on days that he was in camp, he was the first person you said good morning to. You and Arthur had been friends for years and if you were truthful with yourself, you wouldn’t mind being more than that. You had always found him incredibly handsome, and once you had broke through the tough guy act, you discovered the man was incredibly kind hearted and sensitive. Arthur also possessed a dry sense of humor that was very funny, given you could tell when he was joking. He was even charming in a strange way. Despite this, you never let yourself dream too long about a relationship with Arthur, he he always seemed to be romantically unavailable at best.

Your eyes combed the camp once more, searching for Arthur’s familiar form. You spied his horse at the hitching post, so you knew he couldn’t be far. Your eyes finally fell on his tent, the flaps closed. How odd. You gulped down the rest of your coffee, and began to make your way across camp, offering polite good mornings to those who had just awoken. As you approached Arthur’s tent you began to second guess yourself. If he’s tired maybe I should let him sleep… or maybe he just wants alone time.

Still, you wanted to make sure he was feeling okay and you raised your hand to knock on the wooden post, standing just in front of the tent flaps. Before your knuckles could ever make contact with the wood, Arthur emerged from the tent, careening into you.

Startled, he muttered curses and grabbed your waist to steady you. Instinctively your hands found his chest. For an instant the two of you were pressed close. “I’m so sorry Arthur!”

Suddenly realizing it was you, and where his hands were, he released his grip on your waist quickly and backed away a bit. “Christ woman… you stalkin’ me?”

“I was just coming to check on you, you’re normally the first one up.” How quickly he had put distance between the two of you was not lost on you and was almost enough to make you roll your eyes.

“You were comin’ to disturb my peace and quiet, you mean?” His hands found his gun belt out of habit.

“More or less.” You shot him a big grin, which earned you a soft chuckle from Arthur.

That damn smile. It was enough to drive him crazy. He drove his thoughts away as quickly as they appeared. “Well I was comin’ to find ya anyways. Want to go somewhere with me today?” He shifted from one foot to the other and found himself praying you’d say yes.

You would go with him anywhere he asked, but of course you didn’t want to seem too eager. “Where to?” You placed your hands firmly on your hips.

“Up to Roanoke Ridge. Got something to do up there.” Arthur toed at the dirt to calm his anxiousness.

You crossed your arms, a smirk playing on your lips. “Hmm… well I’ll have to check my schedule.” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the eye roll Arthur gave you. “I guess I could make time for you Arthur”. Your words oozed with sarcastic sweetness, or was it really sarcastic?

“Well don’t I just feel special! Go get dressed woman, I’ll get the horses ready.” Arthur felt an almost childlike excitement in his chest. He always enjoyed your company and looked forward to when the two of you got to spend time together.

You nodded and began to scurry back to your tent, calling over your shoulder, “don’t forget to eat breakfast!”

Arthur was pretty sure you were the only person who cared about his well being, always chasing him down making sure he had gotten enough to eat and lecturing him on taking better care of himself. He ran a hand down his face and shook his head before stalking off to ready your horses.

You went and put on your favorite outfit, the one that fit you just right, and went to meet Arthur at the hitching post. You found him brushing down your horse, talking to her in a low and gentle voice. Your horse didn’t like many people, men especially, but she was quite smitten with Arthur. She’s not the only one, you thought to yourself.

When Arthur heard your approach he slid the brush back into your saddle bag and turned to greet you. He nearly choked when he saw you were wearing that outfit he loved so much. Steering his eyes down to the ground as quickly as he could, he cleared his throat, “You ready?”

You flicked the brim of his hat as you walked by him, “yep, if you are.” You started to get on your horse and as usual, Arthur assisted you. He was painfully modest with his hand placement and kept his eyes hidden below his hat.

Arthur mounted up and pushed his horse into a trot out of camp with you following closely behind. “I’ll lead the way… I don’t think I trust your navigational skills.”

You feigned offense and fell in beside Arthur once the two of you were clear of camp. Arthur began to tell you what exactly the two of you would be doing in Roanoke Ridge, saying there was some sort of rock carving. You didn’t much care what business he had, you were just happy to be along for the ride.

At first, the two of you fell into easy conversation accompanied by your usual banter. But the further you got away from camp, the quieter Arthur got. Some might think that was normal, but you knew him better than that. Yes, Arthur was generally a quiet man, but once it was just the two of you together he was normally chomping at the bit to catch up with you. He might just want some silence. So you settled in for the ride, taking in the views and making the occasional comment, usually met with a short response. It seemed Arthur was a million miles away.

When the two of you rode through Butcher’s Creek, you garnered some less than friendly stares from the locals. “Feelin’ at home yet?” Arthur asked you, taking in the little ragtag village.

You let out a giggle, happy to finally have some of Arthur’s normal personality back. “They must have just forgot to roll out the welcome wagon.”

Arthur let out a soft chuckle, turning to look at you for the first time in a while. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how deep in his own mind he was, but you know him too well. He hoped you were at least still having a decent time, despite his poor company. He allowed himself to study your face, spending a moment to take in all your beautiful features before breaking the silence, “We’re headed up towards Elysian Pool. Ya know it?”

You nodded, “yeah, sorta.” You could feel his eyes burning holes in you, and you attempted to shoo away the bumps that pricked your skin in response.

“Good. I heard the Murfree Brood has gotten real bad around here lately, so stay near me and don’t go wandering off or nothin’.” Arthur pointed his finger at you as a warning, knowing your habits.

“Yes sir.” You let out an exaggerated sigh at the man’s gruff protectiveness. Not that you had planned on straying far from Arthur, you wanted to soak up every minute of alone time with him, even as strange as he was acting.

“See, now that’s more like it.” Arthur flashed you a smug smirk, which only made you roll your eyes, put your heels to your horse and ride past him.

Once you arrived at Elysian Pool, you both dismounted and Arthur began to survey the cliff side. You stared out over the water, studying the lovely waterfall. When you looked back over your shoulder, Arthur was quickly writing something in his journal. You crept up behind him trying to get a peek at the contents of the pages. You would consider you and Arthur to be close friends, but you had only ever gotten to see inside his journal a handful of times. You wanted nothing more than to just flip through the pages to get a glimpse into Arthur’s mind.

Without ever turning around, Arthur finished his writing quickly and snapped the journal closed, shoving it back into his satchel. “C’mere and look darlin’.” He reached behind him and placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to his side.

That nickname, It was enough to set the butterflies in your ribs to fluttering. Arthur didn’t use it often but oh how you loved it when he did. You quickly shooed your thoughts away and commanded the butterflies to be still. You followed Arthur’s gaze up to the side of the cliff where an incredible carving resided. “Arthur, how’d you know this was here?”

He gave a shrug, “Asked around. Apparently they’re all over the country. This weird ginger headed fella wants me to send him the coordinates to them. I’ve found a couple already, I uh…. thought you might like to see too.” He made no move to pull away, letting his hand linger on your back as he watched your face light up. He knew he would do anything it took to see that look on your face.

You marveled at the carving, briefly wondering how long it had been there and who had done it. “Arthur, I’ve never seen anything like it!” You turned to face him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Thanks for bringing me along, it’s been a while since just the two of us to do anything together.” You suddenly noticed how close you both were, just a few more inches and you would be pressed flush together. The thought alone made your heart pick up a bit. Beside you, the sun was beginning to sink low on the ridge line, reflecting off the water to cast beautiful red-orange rays across Arthur’s face.

Arthur cleared his throat, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Course…It’s getting’ late. You want to ride up to Annesburg and get a couple of hotel rooms?”

A couple? “Or… we could just camp out here.” Truthfully you were just looking for an excuse to share a tent with the man, but you also genuinely enjoyed your camping trips together. You both always had so much fun, and it was nice to be away from everyone else.

“I-I don’t know about that y/n. You did hear what I said about the Murfree Brood right?” He studied the landscape, kicking at the dirt anxiously, hands still deep in his pockets.

He’s nervous, you suddenly realized. “It ain’t like you to be scared Arthur.” You placed your hands on your hips and studied his face intently. You couldn’t quite figure out what he was so antsy about, but you were going to.

“I wouldn’t be if I was alone…” He finally looked back to you, “I don’t want nothin’ happenin’ to ya is all.”

“And nothing is going to happen to me. Not when I have my very own big tough gunslinger to protect me!” You playfully poked at his side, earning your hands a gentle swat which only served to make you laugh. “Please, Arthur?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

He scratched at his beard and sighed softly. If you asked him to sell his soul to the devil with that look on your face, he knew he’d agree happily. “Fine. But when the Murfrees come callin’ I don’t want to hear no cryin’.” He warned you with mock sternness.

After some mild arguing on where to set up, the two of you finally settled on a secluded spot just on the other side of the Kamass river. Arthur pitched the tent and got the fire going while you retrieved both your bedrolls from your horses. Arthur’s tent was really only made for one person, but the two of you could squeeze, and you’ve done it before. Once you got them situated you went and plopped down at the fire beside Arthur, who was cooking some meat on the end of his knife.

“Here.” He took his knife and held it to your mouth, watching as you gingerly took the meat between your teeth, sliding it off his blade. He felt his face heat up and cursed himself for the thoughts that entered his mind. He sheathed his knife and began to rise, turning to hide the blush creepin up on his face. “I’m gonna go lay down, alright? Get me if ya need me. Unless it’s the Murfrees, you’re on your own with them.”

You simply nodded, watched him enter the tent, and waited a little while. After mulling over the idea for a moment, you decided it was best if you just asked Arthur straight up what was going on with him. You were friends weren’t you? That’s what friends did. You dusted yourself off and made for the tent. You ducked to crawl inside the small structure, finding Arthur sitting up, reading his journal on one side. He snapped it closed and set it aside. He was just about to ask if you were turning in already when you sat yourself practically on top of him. “Is everything okay? With you I mean… you’ve just been acting like something’s been on your mind all day.” You placed your hand on his knee softly.

Arthur looked down at your hand, then back to you, then decided his lap was suddenly very interesting. “Yeah… yeah ’m fine darlin’.”

You reached up and grasped his jaw, directing his eyes to yours. “Arthur, you know you can tell me anything… right? I know something is bothering you so if you want to talk about, I’ll listen.” Even in the dim lighting of the tent, he looked so very handsome, his sea green eyes staring back at you.

Arthur quietly studied you for a moment before he took your hand from his jaw and held it in his own. He stared down at both of your hands before he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Actually… there is somethin’ I’ve been hopin’- well… meanin’ to talk to you about…”

You tried your very best to focus on his words and not his big gloved hand cradling yours while you waited patiently for him to go on.

Arthur scratched at his beard with his spare hand, eyes glued to his lap where both of your hands lay. “I was thinkin’ that uh- Well I thought that maybe… I uh- I don’t really know how to say it. Darlin’ I-“

You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his lips for a few heartbeats before pulling away again. “Is that what you were trying to say?” Arthur stared back at you, speechless. For one horrible moment you thought you had really misread the situation.

A bright red blush had crept up Arthur’s neck and painted his cheeks. Speak you damn idiot, he cursed himself and cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking, “yeah… more or less.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Y’know I practiced what to say the entire ride up here and still couldn’t get it right somehow… sweetheart I am a fool. But I care about ya more than you know… here.” He opened his journal to a filled page. It was a beautiful sketch of you, he had been working on it for a few days now, his favorite yet. Beside it was something he had written just this morning in his tent.

I know I’m sure I want to ask her to be mine… I just ain’t real sure how. How could I ever put into words what she means to me? How could I ever explain that she’s what keeps me going most days? If I do tell her how I feel- which I fear I must, it grows harder to hide each day- I do not know what she would think. She is beautiful and lovely and everything I’m not. Most of all, she has been my constant friend for years. I know if I confess my feelings to her, it will jeopardize our friendship. I pray to whatever God there might be that I don’t scare her off, whatever happens. Not sure I could bear that. I don’t dare dream that she will return my feelings, or else I am a bigger fool than I thought.

For a moment, it was your turn to be speechless and you hoped the dim lighting was hiding your blush better than it was Arthur’s. “Arthur… This is… I’ve wanted that-you… for years if I’m being honest.”

Arthur wanted to kick himself. He could have done this years ago? “Why didn’t you ever say nothin’?”

“Why didn’t you?” You deflected the question right back to him.

“Like I said… I am a fool sweetheart.” He placed his calloused hand on the back of your neck, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he leaned in and placed a deeper, more passionate kiss than the one you had given him earlier, and you returned it tenfold.

You were the first to break the kiss, “looks like we are just a pair of fools then.” You pressed your forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed. “I’d like that… to be yours Arthur.”

Arthur smiled, really smiled, for the first time in a while. You always made him feel like a real person, not a weapon nor a tool, that’s why he took to you so quickly to begin with. But now he felt it more than ever, it was like he was smiling deep within as well. He guided your back down to your bedroll, laying down by your side. “I’d love to be yours too sweetheart, if you’ll have me of course.”

You cradled his jaw before placing a kiss to his nose. You snuggled deeper into Arthur’s large frame, exhaling softly.

Arthur held you close, held you like he had always dreamed of. He wrapped his strong arms around your frame, loving the feeling of keeping you safe. “Goodnight darlin’.” He kissed your temple softly.

“Arthur… you really think the Murfrees will bother us here?” You murmured sleepily against your cowboy.

He chuckled softly, “they better pray they don’t. You just worry about sleepin’ sweetheart, I gotcha.”

You smiled, feeling safer than you have in years. You let yourself drift off to a sound slumber.

[toomuchracket]

madsss. flatemate!matty and girlie first time showering together and it’s very fluffy and somewhat smutty 🥺

combining with thinking about flatmate first bj (idk if we’ve spoken about it yet??) like he would be sooo so desperate and i cant help but imagine him a little bit subby, not too much just whining and begging because he’s wanted it for so so long and theyre just both so eager and mutually obsessed with each other and just want each other to feel good

the morning after condom-gate! after waking up and snuggling for a bit and having the "bf? gf? yeah" chat (lol), you're like "come on. wanna brush my teeth so i can kiss you again" - matty's like "hello i love you i don't give a shit about morning breath", and you're like "yeah but i also wanna shower. with you, preferably. if you want that". naturally, he's like "are you joking of course i do. never seen you naked in daylight before", and you roll your eyes and stand up (and let him find out you have a back tattoo. there's a blurb about this already somewhere) and walk away (yes you're swinging your hips a bit) and let him run after you like "fuck me you're so hot". teeth brushing happens (like in bring it on teehee), and then - after a bit of debate about how hot the water should be - you pull your boyfriend into the shower to make out with him again, and for a while it's all murmured "i love you" and gentle touches and hands in hair and all that sweet stuff. but then you realise that you're naked in a shower with an equally naked matty, and of course you get Turned On; the kiss gets deeper, and you trail your hand down his stomach to tentatively stroke him and whisper "wanna suck you off", and he CRUMBLES. like you said, he's a bit subby - he whines out a "please", and as you get on your knees he's like "oh my god oh my god", and he gasps when you kiss the we are kings tat (which you've thought about doing for like. years lol) before you take him in your mouth. because it's you doing this for him, it takes a lot for him to keep control for a while, and every time you look up at him he weakens. but he does well, considering, and he's so cute about it; he's got one hand in your hair and the other holding yours (bless), and he's proper babbling like "so fucking good, perfect girl, dreamt about this for so fucking long. fuck, sweetheart, please let me cum, please. love you, love you so much". and you keep him in your mouth until he's totally done, proudly showing him all the cum on your tongue before you swallow and giggle - he actually has to sit down on the shower floor beside you at the sight, before his legs give way, and he kisses you deeply like "thank you for that. definitively the best head i've ever had, darlin. i love you". you're like "i love you. i wanna do that again!", and matty's like "me too, but first - sit down and open your legs for me, sweetheart. your turn to feel good"... hot <3

[mrs-gucci]

Fireside

{ clyde logan x female reader }

anon

A fun sexy bonfire would be fun, maybe with some exhibitionism thrown in? With Flip or Clyde or anyone you think please! :D

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), slight exhibitionism (high risk of being caught), oral sex (m recieving), light dirty talk, cum in mouth.

word count: 1.19k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

When Jimmy and Mellie extended an invitation to you for the Logan family annual camping trip, you were honored. You and Clyde have only been dating for about four months, but everyone agrees that you two have something really special.

So when the day rolls around, you and Clyde pack up the car and drive up to the campsite. Everyone's already there when you arrive, considering you two got a bit of a late start due to...special circumstances, aka you two being unable to keep your hands off each other.

Clyde insists on setting up the tent while you sit with the family and start getting to know everyone. It's immediately clear that you fit right in with everyone and soon enough, you've got some hot apple cider in-hand and you're cracking jokes with the group.

Soon the sky turns from blue to orange and the Logan boys begin building the campfire while everyone else gets things ready for dinner. Once it's cooked, the lively conversation continues well into the night, with plenty of laughs and stories shared between everyone.

Most of the family ends up back in their tents by ten, but you, Clyde, Jimmy and Mellie continue chatting for a bit longer. For some reason, you're starting to get really touchy. Because you're looking at Clyde in the yellow glow of the fire and he's just looking so, so handsome...

He looks over at you when he seemingly catches onto your mood, offering you a small but knowing smile. The cool metal on his prosthetic hand comes to rest on your thigh as Mellie and Jimmy start to wind down for the night.

As soon as they're in their tents, you're leaning over and pulling him in for a kiss. He chuckles against your lips, flesh hand resting on the side of your face.

"What's up with ya tonight?" he asks when you pull back slightly to catch your breath. "Don't think I didn't notice your wanderin' eyes. now."

You smile, looking up at him. "I just think you look very handsome this evening."

"Handsome, huh?" His eyebrows raise slightly as he gives you another kiss. "'n that's all that's got you all riled up? You ain't thinkin' about anything else?"

Your smile widens to a not-so-subtle grin.

"I mean, I had a few other thoughts..." you hum, getting up and climbing onto his lap. "Like what we did this morning."

Clyde hums, his hand resting on your hip, stroking your clothed skin gently.

"Oh yeah? What've ya been thinkin' about in particular?"

You kiss him deeply, then let your lips fall to his jaw, then his neck and throat, mouthing and nipping gently along the way.

"Thought about how good your mouth felt on me, how fucking good you are at eating my pussy," you hum. "Aaaand I thought about how lucky I am that I'm the only one who gets to take your big, thick dick inside of me. Mm, and finally, I thought about how I never got to repay you for making me feel so good."

He lets out a shaky breath as you slide down onto your knees in front of him, hands smoothing over his thighs. Clyde looks around at the tents, then back down at you.

"Honey, I dunno if we s-should..."

You lean in and press a very gentle kiss to the forming bulge around his crotch, your warm breath wafting over his crotch. "I mean, I can stop if you want me to. But everyone's asleep, baby, and you know I can make it quick."

His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches slightly as he tries to keep himself mostly composed. He brings his hand around to cradle the back of your head, gently pushing you down, indicating that he'd like you to continue.

Your lips turn up in a small smirk as your hands make quick work of his pants, pushing them down enough to be able to pull his length out.

The air is starting to get a bit chilly, but the fire crackling behind you helps. You hum, wrapping your lips around his tip, teasing his head before sinking down further and beginning to suck him off. Clyde grunts softly, hips rocking up instinctively and fingers tightening slightly in your hair.

"Mmm, Christ," he groans quietly, looking down at you as you bob up and down on him. "Lookit you, my p-pretty girl, mm, makin' me feel fuckin' amazing..."

You smile around him, then begin to go a bit faster, earning you a low groan from above, which only spurs you on more. Clyde's having a very hard time keeping quiet and finds himself looking around every time he makes a noise, making sure he didn't clue any of his family in to what's going on.

There's something so nerve-wracking but incredibly thrilling about this, getting a blowjob out in the open, with some of his family members sleeping only a few hundred yards away. Luckily, deep sleeping runs in the Logan family, so he's pretty confident that no one will catch you two.

And there's also the fact that he's incredibly, incredibly close to orgasm and it's only been a couple minutes. You just really know how to push all the right buttons.

"Oh honey, i-if you keep this up, I ain't gonna last much longer," he breathes. "Mm, you're too fuckin' good at this."

You pull off for a second and replace your mouth with your hand, looking up at him as you briefly catch your breath.

"You can move, baby," you breathe. "Use my mouth, I want you to cum."

Clyde growls softly and holds your head firmly in place as his hips begin to thrust up into your mouth. He loves when you let him take control, he loves that you trust him enough to let him do this.

"I'm gonna cum," he says quickly, breathing heavily through his nose, lips pursed as he frantically pushes you down and thrusts up at the same time. "Ohhhh I'm gonna cu--"

His orgasm suddenly hits and he lets out a long, low groan, hips jerking slightly with each spurt of cum. He makes sure you take every last drop you've earned from him before letting you go, leaning back in his chair to catch his breath for a moment.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and catch your breath before standing up again. Clyde quickly tucks himself away, then pulls you onto his lap again, kissing you deeply, sighing at the taste of his cum lingering in your mouth.

"Fuck, darlin', you're incredible," he says in between kisses. "I...I love ya."

Your eyes widen and you pull back, looking down at him. That's the first time he's ever said it to you. You smile widely, then take his face in your hands, thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

"I love you too Clyde."

He grins from ear to ear, then kisses you again, continuing to do so for a few minutes before the two of you put out the fire and head back to your tent.

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[girls-alias]

Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester P10

Title: Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester Part 10

Words: 1,621

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: SPOILERS S1E12

Taglist: @deans-baby-momma , @qinnroki @moldyorange @creative-writing92 @lokischickadee , @take-it-on-the-run @daisy-the-quake @ilikw @selfdestructionandrhum

Part 9

Dean smiled at me as he approached the seats beside me. "Hey, baby," He groaned as he sat down.

"Hi baby," I mocked as I rolled my eyes and looked away. Dean chuckled so I turned to glare at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous, you know that?" He asked so I rolled my eyes again looking away. He grabbed my chin to turn me to look at him. I looked at him with puppy dog eyes. When he's better he's going to leave with some stupid blonde. "Is she looking?" He whispered so I looked at him confused but indeed saw Layla sitting in the row in front of us and was looking at us. I looked at Dean confused as I nodded softly. He just smiled and grabbed the back of my neck. We sat making out in a church tent for a good couple of minutes, everyone there must have had their thoughts on us. Dean pulled away to whisper in my ear. "I'm yours," He whispered, his breath fanning my neck and sending a shiver down my spine. I practically melted in my seat. Dean smirked seeing the effect he had on me. He continued to smirk as he paid attention to the blind man on the stage.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" He asked rhetorically making me smile as I held my laughter. What would he know about the bad things going on in the world? "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act." He continued, Dean looked at me before rolling his eyes. He also thought this guy was ridiculous. "But I say to you, God is watching." Everyone seemed to murmur an agreement.

These people are so easily persuaded to believe anything. I bet if I stood up right now and claimed God was talking to me they'd all believe me. "God rewards the good, and he punishes the corrupt," He added and I scoffed. The only noise that wasn't a laugh that I could make. Dean smirked at me finding me as his entertainment. "It is a lord who does the healing here friends, the Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts." Everyone seemed to agree with him but Dean leaned in to whisper to me.

"Or into their wallets," He commented making me laugh. I pretended I was coughing when everyone looked at my sudden outburst.

"You think so, young man?" The preacher asked, I slid down in my chair a little hiding my mouth with my hand so no one could see me trying not to laugh. Everyone went silent, and even the pianist stopped playing, only making me want to laugh even more.

"Sorry," Dean announced so everyone could hear him. I saw Layla smiling to herself which only pissed me off. Who does she think she is? I should lean over and pull on her scraggly blonde hair.

"No, don't be," The preacher replied grabbing my attention again. "Just watch what you say about a blind man. We have real sharp ears," He joked and there was a stale laugh like everyone was trying to please him. Idiots! "What's your name, son?" He asked and Dean seemed confused, he looked at me like he was afraid to say.

"His name is Dean," I answered for him and the preacher smiled.

"You must be his girlfriend," The preacher smiled before nodding. "Dean, I want you to come up here with me," The preacher announced and suddenly I smiled. Dean looked uneasy and looked at me for guidance. I nodded showing him to go. Everyone clapped for him. He looked around for a second before shaking his head.

"No, it's okay," He commented so I looked at him concerned. What's he thinking about?

"What are you doing?" Sam asked thinking he had lost his mind.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" The preacher asked and everyone was silent as they waited for Dean to speak.

"Well, yeah, but, uh," Dean stammered looking at me for guidance, I smiled at him. Everyone clapped for him again. "You should heal Y/N, she was struck by lightning, she's clearly in pain but she doesn't want to say anything," He commented wincing slightly like he was afraid of how I would react. I smiled knowing he cared for me. He's dying and worrying about the scars and pain that I will live through.

"Oh-ho, no. I didn't pick you, Dean. The Lord did," The preacher explained and everyone cheered a little louder.

"Get up there," Sam exclaimed but once again Dean looked at me for the answer, I smirked with an idea. I leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"If you go up there I'll take a shower with you when we get to a motel," I whispered seductively. Dean smiled as he pulled away and gestured for Sam to get out of his way. I chuckled knowing exactly what he wanted. He climbed onto the stage and looked back at me with a smile. I smiled back but it instantly faded when Layla straightened up and fixed her hair probably thinking Dean was looking at her, I was going to bite her. Dean and the preacher seemed to have a mumbled conversation.

"Pray with me, friends," The preacher announced. Everyone bowed their heads and raised their hands but when Dean looked at me like a deer in headlights I knew he needed me. I nodded with a smile. Sam and I watched intently as the preacher placed a hand on Dean's head. Dean looked like he was in pain, his eyes rolling around his head. I jumped up instantly but Sam stopped me. He only let me through when Dean fell to his knees. I wrapped my arm around his back holding him steady, His eyes rolled again before his body went limp and I held all of his weight.

I wasn't as strong as I used to be so struggled a little, the wounds on my back instantly stinging and feeling tight. I tried breathing through the pain but struggled.

"Sam," I called out and he was instantly at my side helping me hold Dean up. Everyone cheered and I looked at them like they were crazy.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked shaking Dean trying to wake him. I placed a hand on his cheek instantly worried. "Say something," Sam almost shouted as Dean gasped for air and held himself up a little. Dean's eyes widened as he looked at the preacher. I quickly looked but saw he was just smiling. I focused on Dean.

"Are you okay, baby?" I asked grabbing his attention, he looked at me a little dazed. It seemed like magic, colour sprung to his cheeks, the bags under his eyes faded and his lips looked plumper. I shook myself thinking I imagined it but there he was, a colourful man in a dull world. I smiled when I noticed him smiling at me. "Are you okay?" I asked softly. His answer must have been on the tip of his tongue as he grabbed me roughly and kissed me. I was shocked but happily accepted it. This kiss was different, it was like he was the happiest man in the world. He kissed me so rough and passionately that I wondered if he was only so gentle in the past because he was in pain. He didn't want to pull away from the kiss even as everyone was watching us and he just kept pulling me back for more.

I giggled as I pulled away, Dean's eyes searching mine, the smile plastered across his face never faltering. Dean's eyes seemed to be brighter, the once subtle but beautiful green eyes now vibrant and piercing. I chuckled realising that Dean did what I always seem to do with him, and answered a question with my actions. I chuckled just thinking.

"Come on," I added as I helped to pull him up. He stood and grabbed the sides of my face to kiss me again, I giggled as I pulled away. Dean took my hand and helped me climb off the stage, I started leading us to the back to exit the tent. Dean looked at me confused. "I want a doctor to check you over," I explained as we exited the tent.

"Baby, I feel great," He cheered but I smiled as I rolled my eyes.

"I just want to check," I explained but Dean grabbed my hand to stop me. I looked at him confused. "He might heal you next," He said hopefully.

"He only heals one a day," A random person close to us added. I smiled triumphantly continuing on my way and approaching the impala. I turned to face Dean when we got to the car and was pleasantly surprised to feel his lips on mine again. I giggled into the kiss but pulled away. "What happened to the rule of no PDA in front of Sam?" I asked rhetorically but Dean scoffed.

"He doesn't mind, do you, Sammy?" He asked looking at Sam over the car. Sam just chuckled as he climbed in. Dean smiled thinking that would make me reconsider.

"I just don't think it's something he wants to see every day, we can kiss but PG when Sam's around, okay?" I explained not asking a question. Dean sighed as he nodded making me laugh. I kissed him, and his hands instantly roamed me wanting more I laughed pulling away again.

"What he's in the car," Dean joked making me laugh. He gave me a wink before climbing into the car.

Masterlist

Working On

Taglist

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 20

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: You have news for Carol and Carol has news for you.

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Word count: 1078

A/N: It's the final chapter, let's goooooo!!!!

These Stars Defy Love

"You got this, keep going," Fury encourages you, looking at his stopwatch. You’re performing a physical test to see if you’re ready to get back to work, "Just a little longer," you let go of the weights and exhale heavily, "that was pretty good, still six seconds short though, you’re almost there."

After resting for a few minutes, you go up to Valkyrie’s room to tell her about your progress, secretly hoping Carol would be around to hear it too. You knock on the door and are met with The Captain, "Hey, is Val around?" You try to play it cool.

"She went out."

"Oh, okay." You remain standing in the doorway.

"You’re looking good," Carol remarks.

"Thanks, I've been working really hard to get my job back."

"I’m glad."

You bite the inside of your cheek for a moment, "Can I talk to you for a minute."

"Come in." She steps aside so you can enter the room. As you walk in you see her bags half packed.

"You’re leaving?" You ask, slightly disappointed.

She looks at you apologetically, "Duty calls."

"When?"

"First thing in the morning."

"Without saying goodbye?" You’re offended.

"I was gonna tell you, I just wanted it to last longer."

"You’re leaving alone?"

"I don't really have a willing partner this time," she responds tentatively, her words drive right through you, it breaks your heart to see her go.

"I realized we never broke up," you blurt out, making her look at you in confusion, "I should do that now."

"Okay," is all she can say, there is no tension in the room, it almost feels like a joke.

"Carol Danvers, I think we should break up, it's for the best." You reach out your hand and Carol giggles before shaking it.

"For the best," she repeats after you.

"Now that you're single, maybe I can take you out on a date sometime?" She looks at you amused, but your features turn serious.

"For real?"

"For real." You smile again.

She’s a little skeptical, "I’m still leaving tomorrow."

"Then I’ll pick you up at 8." You wink at her before exiting.

That night you go to her room to pick her up, you take her hand and start walking her down the hall, "The stairs are that way," she notes suspiciously, pointing in the opposite direction.

"We’re not going down, angel, we’re going up," you exaggerate the pet name.

You arrive at the rooftop of the compound where you have carefully set up a picnic full of her favorite snacks and some drinks, all adorned with candles and surrounded by strings of fairy lights. Carol is in awe, "You did all this for me?"

"That’s right, I can be charming sometimes." You’re wearing a satisfied smile as you guide her to sit and settle beside her.

"This is my favorite spot in the compound," she whispers, still admiring your work.

"I know." You bite your lip.

Carol tries not to get her hopes up, "You remember?"

"I asked around." That somehow makes it even sweeter, she thinks. You both eat and have some drinks and eventually end up cuddling together under a blanket, stargazing.

"Don’t go yet," you murmur after a while, still staring at the sky.

"I have to." Her tone is gentle, almost like an apology. She turns around and places a soft kiss on your cheek, to her it's almost an afterthought, but to you it's like fireworks going off in your chest. You turn to her, feeling your entire body flutter and your faces come impossibly close.

You stay like that for a moment, neither of you daring to move, "Do you have a gym on your ship?" you whisper, she snorts and hums in response. You slowly move away from her and sit up, "I have to go."

She bolts up, "Already? I thought we were having a nice time." She starts to panic.

"I have to go pack my bags," you say coyly.

"Where are you going?"

"You tell me." With that, you stand up, and leave. She watches you go with a huge grin on her face.

It’s the next morning and you’re taking all your stuff into Carol’s ship, you see Valkyrie walking to her own ship, parked right next to Carol’s, "Leaving so soon, Princess?"

"Yeah," you respond in a dopey state.

"Oh, don’t be so sad about it," she teases you.

"Shut up," you chuckle, she walks towards you, looking unimpressed by how smitten you are, "Thank you, for everything."

"Any time," The King holds your hands in hers and leaves a cordial kiss on your cheek, "may our next meeting be joyful." You lower your head almost like a bow.

"And thank you for the ring," you add.

"Better give it to her this time."

"We’ll see." Valkyrie says her goodbyes to Carol, and retires to her ship.

Kamala approaches you with the last of your things, "Is that all?" you ask her.

"Yes," she sighs.

"Thank you, little Marv," Kamala giggles at Valkyrie’s pet name coming out of your mouth.

"Of course."

"I mean it," you reiterate, in a more serious tone, "thank you for looking after me, even when I was a pain in the ass, I owe you my life."

"Are you gonna become my knight in shining armor?" she mocks, you roll your eyes and pull her into a hug that doesn’t last long enough to your liking, but you don’t have three hours to spare.

Carol comes out to the back of the ship looking for you, "It’s time." The smile on her face could light up a whole galaxy, you hum in response. She instinctively opens her arms as she walks towards Kamala and the girl accepts the embrace.

"Are you sure I can’t come with?" Kamala pleads with her eyes looking up at The Captain.

"You have to protect the Earth while we’re away and you have to finish high school." Carol quips, "You can call anytime, day or night," Kamala opens her mouth, but Carol responds faster, "I promise to pick up, every time."

The Captain turns to you as she lets go of the girl, "You ready, angel?"

"Right behind you, Captain." You both enter the ship while Kamala stands outside watching the ship’s entrance retract with a bittersweet tear escaping her eyes.

You still have a long way to go in your recovery, but you know you are on the right track.

That is the end of this story, thank you so much for sticking around and going through this journey with me. I appreciate every single one of you, thank you for the love and I hope to see you in the next one :)

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in my next Carol adventure, maybe? It's coming out very soon, I pinky promise!

Tags: @graniairish @carols-photonblast @thelittleliars @unicorniusfallapatorius @prplepeony @eringranola @cordeliasdarling

[mountttmase]

An Unexpected Visitor

Note - so this is my first fic, just testing the waters to see how it goes 🙈 please don’t hate me if it’s bad

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 2.6k

Warnings - a little bit of angst, a lotta bit of smut

‘Anything you want to share with the class?’ Your boss joked, catching you with your phone in your hand halfway through a very important meeting. Your face flushed out of embarrassment and also what you’d just seen on your phone.

‘Oh sorry’ you apologised, stuttering as now all eyes were on you. ‘I’m expecting a call from a client I thought it was them’ you lied before putting your phone in your pocket. Thankfully the messages had seemed to of stopped coming through now so you could try and forget what just happened and concentrate on the rest of what was being said.

Fifteen minutes later you were all released and you were the first one out the room, wanting to get back to the safety of your office as soon as possible. You were stopped in your tracks though by your PA Kim, greeting you with a huge smile. She was twice your age so like a mother to you and even in the mood you were in right now you couldn’t take it out on her.

‘Oh y/n, a Mason Mount turned up saying he had an appointment with you? i couldnt see anything in your diary but he assured me it was meant to be going ahead so I told him he could wait in your office’ she told you. Of course he was here and of course he’d managed to charm the pants off her too in order to get into your office but the way you were feeling right you didn’t want to look at him.

‘Thanks Kim, it’s okay I was expecting him’ you smiled, putting on a fake happy expression as not to arouse suspicion and she just nodded at you before returning to her desk.

You could see him as you approached the door through the little window and he was sat in your seat behind your desk, playing with newtons cradle you kept on there for show and you took a deep breath before entering. You faced away from him at first, pulling the shutter against the window closed so no one would be able to see you both and quietly locking the door. When you turned round he was looking at you with his usual cheeky smirk, but you could see from where you were stood that his eyes were dark, letting you know what mood he was in straight away.

‘Are you serious, Mason? Sending me nudes while I’m in a meeting?’

‘Oh, we’re using my full name huh? Wow I must be in trouble’ he laughed, but you were struggling to see the funny side at the moment. He caught on straight away when you didn’t laugh with him but he still kept that cheeky look on his face. ‘Come on baby, it was only a joke’

‘No Mason. You sent five in a bloody row I thought there was something wrong the way you kept messaging, only for me to open them up in a room full of men who barely take me seriously as it is’

‘Well you shouldn’t have left me in bed on my own this morning then when you know I wanted to fuck you’ he shrugged, speaking as if he was talking about the most mundane thing. You knew he was extra horny this morning for no apparent reason so you made sure to dress extra sexy in your right black bodycon dress. It came to your knees but there was a huge slit up the back giving mason a flash of your thighs every time you took a step. This was all in hopes of teasing him a bit, making sure he would be thinking about you all day before you would give him what he wanted when you got home, but you should of known Mason wouldn’t be able to wait.

The fact he was sat there, legs spread wide, hands on his thighs and the stupid grin still on his face made you even more furious. Clearly he was in a teasing mood today, only made more obvious by the way he looked you up and down whilst licking his lips slowly in order to try and seduce you.

If you didn’t know he was turned on by the way he was looking at you, the growing tent in his grey joggers made it even more obvious. A strange choice of his to wear out in public when he was feeling the way he was, or maybe he just wanted to make sure you knew.

‘You have no idea how sexy you are to me right now’ he told you in a low voice and your nostrils flared as you let out a short breath. You had to admit you were a little turned on yourself seeing him like this, but given the inappropriate setting you pushed that to the back of your head.

‘You’re in my seat’ you told him crossing your arms and he raised his eyebrows at you before standing up from behind your desk and making his way over you you. He stopped right in front of you, his hands on your waist and his breath fanning over your face. You refused to touch him back but you couldn’t help looking up into his lust filled eyes.

‘Go on, tell me off again. The way I’m feeling right now you might not even have to touch me to make me cum’ he whispered against your lips. You scoffed, pulling out of his hold and moving to sit in your seat.

‘Why are you here, Mase? What do you want?’ You questioned him as he took up the seat on the other side of your desk. He sat back in the same position he was in before and you briefly glanced down at the bulge in his boxers before you met his eyes again.

‘I think you know what I want’

‘You can’t be serious? I’m at work you idiot’ you scolded him and he winked at you in response. ‘Fuck you’ you breathed, a slight chuckle falling from your lips at his brazenness, before you unlocked your laptop to check your emails

‘That a threat or a promise?’ He enquired but you just ignored him, glancing over your screen before standing up to find a file on the other side of the room.

You heard him get up and follow you over but you made no effort of talk to him or move out the way when he brushed up behind you. The feel of him hard against your bum made your tummy flip but you were determined not to let him get to you. He knew exactly how to push your buttons though and when his lips landed on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses all over it, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes.

‘You seem tense baby, come on let me help you relax’ he whispered in your ear, his hands on you hips now pulling you tighter against him and it took all your willpower not to react. He could tell you were slowly coming around to his way of thinking though so carried on kissing and sucking all the bits of skin he could reach.

‘We really shouldn’t be doing this’ you whispered, your mind no longer thinking about the file you were looking for.

‘You want me to stop?’ He asked, knowing if you told him to he would. He knew how to push the boundaries sometimes but he also knew when to back off if you really didn’t want it. This could have been one of those times but between the pictures he’s sent you earlier, his lips on your neck and the feeling of him against you sent you into a spin. Your normal morals flying out the window and all you wanted was the feeling of him inside you.

‘No, don’t stop’ you told him, and you felt him smile against your neck before detaching himself from you. He pulled you by your hand to turn you around, finally planting his lips on yours in a slow but heavy kiss.

‘Go bend over you desk for me’ he told you quietly, and you were about to protest but he cut you off with another kiss. ‘You’re lucky I’m not about to fuck you against the window, show everyone how well you take me’ he growled, nodding over to the floor the ceiling window in your office. You were high up enough so no one would be able to see you even he did want to do that, but the words made you shiver in fear. ‘So go bend over your desk. I won’t ask again’

You slowly walked over, clearing a little space but you didn’t bend over for him like he asked. Instead, you pulled your dress up so it bunched up around your hips and sat yourself on the desk with your legs dangling over the edge, trying to take some power back from him.

‘You forget Mason, we’re in my office so I make the rules’ you told him, slowly spreading your legs so he could get a peek at your underwear and his eyes shot down to look there immediately.

He slowly walked towards you, his hands grabbing the sides of your underwear as soon as he could reach, pulling them down your legs before getting down onto his knees, his head between your thighs. ‘Yes ma’am’ he winked and you leaned back with a smirk so he could have better access to your core. He propped your legs on his shoulders his arms reaching round to rest on your hips and he wasted no time before burring his face into you.

You knew you had to be quiet, but you couldn’t help the loud moans that came from you, you never could when he was working away down there. He pulled back after a particularly loud grunt came from you and you looked down at him with furrowed brows.

‘You need to be quiet for me baby’ he muttered ‘if we caught caught then I’m blaming you’ but he gave you no time to reply, ducking back down to repeat his actions from before. You tried your best to stay quiet but were getting closer to the finish line with every stroke of his tongue and he must of known you were close as he pulled off from you just as you were about to cum.

‘What the hell, Mason?’ You moaned but you turned silent when you saw the look in his eyes, staring down at you hungrily and you wished you could of taken the words back.

‘Payback’ he breathed, wiping his mouth with the cuff of his hoodie before pulling you up to stand and facing you away from him. ‘When I tell you to bend over, you bend over. No questions asked’ he told you, pushing on your back to force you over your desk and moving your legs apart slightly. ‘You’re lucky I need to cum myself cause otherwise I would have made you suffer a lot worse’ He told you and within the next second he thrust into you without any warning before wrapping your hair in his hand and pulling you up. You kept yourself balanced by holding you palms flat to the table but he was pounding into you so hard you could feel the table start to move.

‘So worried about what them lot out there think about you, if only they could see you now’ he said quietly and you bit your lip to stop any moans. ‘I bet you’d love to put on a show for them, show them what a good girl you can be?’

You whimpered in response and he fucked into you harder, your arms almost giving up on you but you managed to keep yourself up, even with mason going at you with this relentless pace.

‘You have no fucking idea what you do to me. Seeing you leave every morning in all your tight little outfits, knowing you’re off to boss people about. You’re so fucking sexy and you don’t even try’ he slowed down ever so slightly so he could lift one of your legs up onto the desk, letting him drive deeper into you and you both moaned out in unison over the new feeling.

He knew you were close by the way you fluttered around him so he sped up his actions, pulling you up to him fully so he could whisper in your ear. ‘you gonna cum for me?’ He questioned and you breathed out a quiet yes as he sucked on your skin. ‘Good girl, go on then’ he growled and a few seconds later you came over him, his hand over your mouth to silence your cries but the sound and feel of you bought on his own release. He thrust into you until he was spent, reaching over to the box of tissues you kept on your desk and grabbing a handful before pulling himself from you.

You could feel him trying to clean you up so you didn’t have any stains down your dress and you hissed at the contact.

‘Shit, sorry baby. Two seconds and I’m done yeah’ he told you, moving from behind you to pick your underwear up, handing them back over to you with a sheepish grin. He helped you put them back on, dropping a soft kiss on your lips when you were all sorted and you couldn’t help but smile. He was a pain in the arse but he was yours. ‘You okay?’ His whispered, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again, rocking you from side to side.

‘Yeah, but next time you come here for a ‘meeting’ Mase, make sure you wear something a bit nicer so it’s more believable. Can’t having you turning up here in a tracksuit and expecting people to believe you’re a client of mine’

‘So I’m allowed back then?’ He smiled, his hands moving further down to pinch your bum and you nuzzled into his neck.

‘Not for a while no’ you scolded him but he just laughed and kissed your cheek. ‘Come on, you better go before people get suspicious. I’ll walk you out’ you said to him and with one final kiss you parted from each other, quietly unlocking your door and walking him over to the main reception. You could feel eyes on you, but from your quick glance around you could see it was just because Mason was in the room, not anyone realising what had taken place behind your office door.

‘Thank you for your time, Miss y/l/n. I’ll be in contact again soon’ he told you, stopping to face you and outstretching his hand for you to shake. You cottoned after a second or two, following his lead and shook his hand whilst giving him a smile.

‘You’re welcome Mr Mount. You’ve got my contact details so please feel free to get in touch if you need anything’

‘Oh I plan to’ he whispered, only loud enough for you to hear, before letting go of your hand and walking out of the building.

‘Was that Mason Mount?’ You heard from behind you, turning to see your boss who’d caught you on your phone earlier walking towards you.

‘Uh yes, the client i mentioned before, that’s him. He just popped by to ask a few questions’ you gulped, hoping he would buy what you were telling him and thankfully for you he did.

‘I’m impressed’ he nodded and you let out a little breath of relief. ‘Productive meeting I take it?’

‘I’d say so, yeah’

[d34dlysinner]

Little help: Bael x reader smut

(I am influenced by the chat system)

Bael messaged you early in the morning. You knew he went to a club the day before. He was usually too busy to even try and start a conversation. So it surprised you when you saw a message from him that was sent 5minutes ago.

"Guess who accidentally Beelzebub's food again... It's not big like last time... Just stiff.", he says as you were yet again surprised at the situation.

"How did you accidentally eat it?", you asked, genuinely confused on how that happens.

"Another noble gave it under the guise of them saying they tried cooking... I was a taste tester. Apparently it's Beelzebub's cooking and he just lied.", he says. Not mentioning the name of the other noble. Maybe he was too busy to notice? Or maybe he kept it secret just to "save" my views about the noble? I don't think he wants me to avoid Avisos, because of people lying about Beelzebub's food.

"Are you okay?", you asked as your thoughts shifted to concern for the demon you were talking to.

"I'm okay... It's just painful in a way. It won't go down either. I've been here for a while.", he says. You saw him typing some more and he suddenly stopped. As if he was rethinking about what he typed. You waited for a while to see his next text message.

"Do you want to help me?", he asked via text. You weren't far from his place since you went to Avisos with Bathin to hang out with Stolas. You were currently in a little guest room. Maybe you should go? It sounds like an actual problem this time if he stayed there for a while... You were also tempted in what the help exactly could be.

"I'm coming over if that's alright for you?", you said as you made your way towards the door. Getting ready to go to his place. You heard your phone ping. The screen lit up, showing his message in the notification bar.

"I'll be waiting for you then."

You made your way throught the streets, towards the castle where Bael was waiting for your arrival. You heard gunshots around you. Maybe it was Stolas in one of his hissy fits again? You tried to ignore it and sped up your walk towards the castle. It's maybe hard to kill demons and angels, but you were human. You wouldn't risk staying in the spot while you heard constant bangs around you.

When you reached the castle grounds you were greeted by lesser demons that would work around the place. That's when one decided to lead you to Bael's room, on Bael's command.

You knocked on the door and heard a faint "Come in, MC."

You entered the room and saw a disheveled Bael in his room. Sitting on his bed with a tent visible in his underwear. He wasn't joking when he said he tried getting is down as you saw the multiple toys and tissues in the room.

You locked the door behind you and made your way where the demon was sitting. Before you could even make a move to help him, he pinned you to his bed. "I'm sorry, but I can't hold back too long. Let me prepare you before we start.", he said as he made his way down and started to rip your trousers and undewear away. Sucking and fingering you as he tried to refrain himself from taking you right there when he heard your moans. It was only when he made you cum a few times that he pulled away. He may be painfully hard, but he could never pass on tasting you. He pushed your knees into your chest and lined himself up. He looked down at your expression. "Thanks for coming, I hope you're mentally ready for a few hours.", he said. "It's way more fun with a partner than some objects after all.~", he grinned seeing your expression of shock. Hours? Partner? A lot of thoughts were rampaging in your brain. They all would soon disappear to nothing as he started to insert himself in you.