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evera-era · 7 months

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my sweet girl.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: friends to lovers, virgin reader, ellie has a praise + innocence kink, fingering, oral r!receiving, facesitting, fondling, lots of kissing, you talk her through it, fluff !!!!

a/n: kinktober week 2 is here! writing this had me feeling some typa way,, ellie would never admit it but she’s def a praise kink girly

Today was different. Not because you were doing anything out of the ordinary — because you weren’t. You were hanging out with your friend Ellie, as you usually did on the weekends.

But you noticed that you’d let your eyes linger on her for a bit too long. And she let her eyes linger on you, too. You wondered if she always did that; if you only noticed because you felt confident enough to stare a bit more today.

Truthfully, your crush on Ellie developed a while ago. You were almost sure that it was obvious, considering how easily you’d agree to her — on everything.

But Ellie didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe she just didn’t notice? Either way, she really liked your presence.

She made that apparent, albeit casual with it. Some days she showed up with a smile on her face and a movie tucked under her arm. Other times, she’d alter the schedule, sneakily pairing herself with you for patrols. If she noticed you at the pub, she’d greet you before handing you a freshly poured drink.

Ellie naturally gravitated to you. And you, her. Being around her just felt good. It was the sound of her voice that brought you back to the present.

“It’s nice out.” She murmurs, turning her head to the side to look at you. She was laying horizontally on your bed.

“Yeah,” You replied, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Should we go and do something?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, then shakes her head.

“Rather stay in here. With you.” She says calmly.

You smiled meekly. “Okay.”

You continued to doodle in her sketchbook. She let you borrow it sometimes, to practice your drawing. You’d tell her not to bother, that you’d never be nearly as good as she was. But she always insisted, and you accepted — at the least, she’d have something to remind her of you.

“Can I see?” She asks, noticing the way your sketch held your attention.

“It’s your sketchbook,” You joked, handing it to her.

She took it with gentle hands, holding it open so she could look at it properly. She flickered her eyes from the book to you. “This is good, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “Just… a silly drawing.”

“Your drawings aren’t silly.” She responds. “I think it’s nice.”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. She passes it back to you.

“Why don’t you tear it out when you’re done?” She says. “So you can put it up.”

“Here? In the room?” You say with furrowed brows. You didn’t realize it was kind of a dumb question until after.

Ellie nods. “C’mon, it’ll look nice. It is nice.”

You look down at her bashfully. “I feel like you’re lying.”

“Well… I’m not,” She states. “And if you don’t hang it up, then I will. At my place.”

Your eyes widen. You can feel your cheeks go warm as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You… you serious?” You ask.

“Do I look like I’m not?”

You felt your face blush even more. But you muster up the courage to slowly meet her gaze. Her eyes are set on you, and they don’t look away.

“You always look serious,” You comment, shyly.

“Yeah… that part’s true.” She says, looking down at your lap. “Still tryin’ to work on that.”

“It’s okay. I mean… I don’t mind how you look.” You cleared your throat, looking out the window. “You’re pretty, Ellie.”

Ellie could feel her heartbeat grow in her chest. Her gaze softens as she glances at you. Then she shifts to put her hands behind her head.

“You’re prettier,” She adds, kicking her foot. “You’re always… like, gentle, and stuff.”

“You don’t know that,” You say, grinning. “Maybe I’m just that way around you.”

“Oh yeah?” She smirks. “Guess I’m pretty lucky, huh?”

You giggled. “Only so far.”

The room gets quiet again. You swore that during times like these, you could hear her breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She says, interrupting the silence.

You nodded, closing the sketchbook.

“Have you ever, like…” She sighs. “Dated anyone? Or did stuff?”

Your heart skips a beat at her question. Ellie had never asked about this kind of subject before. And you’d never expect it from her — she wasn’t the type to openly delve into gossip.

You fiddled your thumbs at the thought. Ellie must be quite curious.

“Dated, yeah.” You murmured. “Doing stuff… not really.”

“Oh.” She mumbles. “Is it just, like, not your thing… or…”

“No,” You sigh. “Moreso the person. I think I wanted to like them, but I didn’t really like them. They weren’t… a good match for me.”

Ellie nods. Another minute goes by before she looks back up at you.

“So, then… what’s a good match for you?”

You brought your knees up to your chest.

“It’s a secret,” You whisper playfully.

“Secret?” She feigns shock. “I thought we were being honest here!”

You laughed.

Deep down, you were scared to confess your feelings to Ellie. You didn’t wanna ruin a good thing. But she’s always been soft when it comes to you, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Do you really wanna know?” You questioned after a minute, looking back over at her.

She raises her eyebrows. “I— I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything—“

“I’m not uncomfortable, Ellie,” You say. “Just… nervous, to like, say it.”

She watches you carefully. She swallows firmly, then folds her bottom lip beneath her teeth.

“Well… I wouldn’t… judge you, if you told me, you know.” She says quietly. “I might judge the person, but… not you.”

“That doesn’t really help, in this case.” You exhale shakily. Her eyes widen as she tries to figure out what you mean.

“Because… I like you,” You admit. “And… I think we would be a good match, Ellie.”

It’s quiet for a moment. A stray gust of wind blows through the window, causing the sheer curtains to sway gently. You maintained eye contact with the brunette, awaiting her answer.

“Did…” She clears her throat. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You reply. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time, now.”

When she looks at you, her expression isn’t hardened. She’s studying you, tenderly. You can almost see a sliver of hope in her eyes.

Her eyes flutter as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “Um—“

“But you—“ You look off to the side, fearful of rejection. “You don’t have to say anything, Els.”

“No, I—“ Ellie huffs. “I’ve had a crush on you, too, Y/N. Since the first time we talked.”

Your breathing becomes shallow. You look over at her again; her eyes haven’t left your face.

“R-Really?”

She nods carefully, lifting her finger to scratch the tip of her ear. “I just, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me.”

You laugh under your breath. “How could I not?”

Ellie wrinkles her lips, bashfully. “I’m… not very lovely. Kinda just… me, y’know.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, so you were laying next to her in a similar position now. You rest your chin against your palm.

“I think you’re very lovely, Ellie.” You whisper. “And I like you a lot.”

She smiles, looking down at your lips. Her eyelashes flutter again. When her voice comes out, it’s like a whisper.

“Could… can I—“

“Yeah,” You cut her off, not even waiting to give her permission.

Ellie takes another moment to study your lips before propping herself up. At first she leaves her hands on the bed, but then she decides to cup the side of your face. She caresses your cheek with her thumb slowly — she wants to savor this moment — and listens to the sound of her heart beating.

She doesn’t want to close her eyes, but she thinks it’d be weird if she doesn’t, so she settles on doing so. Her nose brushes up against yours as her lips press gently against your own.

She kisses you like if she kisses any harder, you’d break. You can feel her holding her breath, trying to do it right. She pulls away after a few seconds.

“Was…” She exhales. “Was that okay?”

You nod, your lips spreading into a smile. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I know, I know.” She looks down at your lips again. “Just… didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

“You can’t fuck up a kiss,” You reply. “Unless… wait, is this your first time?”

“No— shit, did it seem like it?” She asks with wide eyes.

“No, no.” You giggle. “But you’re so nervous, I—“

“‘Cause— you— you’re so fucking pretty,” She retorts, facepalming as she blushes. “It’s hard.”

You bite your lip, tucking a stray piece of her away from her face. “Then do it again.”

Her eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“As many times as you want,” You murmur. “Why not?”

Ellie could feel warmth swell in her chest. This is why she loved being around you. You never made her feel bad for being the way she is. And yet, you somehow gave her the encouragement that made her feel like she could do anything in the world.

She doesn’t talk this time. Merely takes a breath, then leans in. She kisses you slow, taking the time to actually feel your lips. They were soft and sweet, just like you. Ellie swears she could stay right here forever.

When she pulls away, she keeps her eyes closed as she steadies her breathing. “Better?”

“Yeah,” You reply. “Let’s do it some more.”

If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen the way Ellie looked at you before you grabbed her face. But you didn’t, and she’s thankful, because she’s frozen in place for the first few seconds.

You had your hands in her hair as you pulled her top lip between yours. The tiniest moan escapes from her throat as she tries her best to re-focus and kiss you back. After a moment, she pulls away by a centimeter, then turns her head to the other side.

The two of you kiss several more times before she draws back. You look at her with expectant eyes.

“I—“ She stutters. “I’ve gotta… if we keep going, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”

“So don’t,” You explain, leaning to kiss her again. She pulls away.

“No, I mean…” Her face flushes even more. “God, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

At first you’re confused, but when your eyes flash down, you realize what she meant. Her nipples are poking through her shirt. She has her hands pulling at her button-up, trying to cover them.

You gently grab her wrists.

“Hey, it’s okay—“

“It’s not,” She insists. “I… I feel like a fuckin’ pervert. It’s only a fucking kiss, and I’m getting turned on—“

“Ellie—“

“I’m ruining it—“

“Ellie.” You say sternly, holding her hands still. “You’re not ruining anything, okay? It’s fine. If… if that’s what your body’s telling you, then…”

She watches you deliberately. “Then what?”

“Then… we could try it,” You whisper. “If you want.”

“Wh—“ She stutters. “But, what do you want? I don’t want you to feel like I’m going too fast—“

“I’m fine, Ellie. Promise.” You say. “I wanna try it, too.”

A damp spot began to form in Ellie’s underwear. She was so careful not to come on too strong, and here you were, practically begging her to take you all the way. She was shocked. Her head felt like it was spinning.

“You… you want me to be your first?”

You nodded.

“I— I don’t know if I can do that.” She blinks a few times before clarifying herself. “Not that I don’t want to — I really, really fucking want to — but I just, I don’t know if I’m gonna be good enough for you.”

“You’re already good enough for me,” You mumble, staring at her lips again.

“I mean it, Y/N, I—“ She sighs. “I don’t want your first time to be any less than perfect.”

“And it won’t be, as long as it’s with you.” You stroke her shoulder. “I… I want this, Ellie.”

She stares at you, still concerned.

“And even still, I’ll totally show you. I… I can tell you what feels good.”

After hearing you say that, Ellie swears her panties become a pool. She never thought about this before. She never thought about you telling her how to please you. Letting her know when she’s doing you right, and hitting the right spot. She can only imagine how pretty your voice would sound as she’s tongue deep in your cu—

“Ellie?” You say, bringing her out of her head. “If you changed your mind—“

“No, I—“ She places her hand on the back of your neck. “I’d never. I was just thinking.”

You smile. “Okay. Well, I’m right here, when you wanna start doing instead of thinking.”

She smirks to herself, nodding before removing her button up and tossing it on the floor. She’s wearing a black undershirt underneath, which fit tight around her upper arms. You resist the urge to whistle lowly.

“Lookin’ good, Els.”

She grins sheepishly. “I guess.”

Her hair droops down into her face as she slowly gets on top of you.

“Should’ve gotten a hair tie.”

“I’ll hold it for you,” You say, quickly moving your hands up to hold her hair back.

She leans down, grinning into your lips. “Thanks.”

She’s more confident when she kisses you this time. For the first few, it’s close-lipped, and then she feels the urge to explore. She swipes her tongue across your lower lip, and you copy her. She takes it as an invitation into your mouth, and she quickly begins toying with your tongue.

You vocalize a moan, which comes out awkwardly muffled. But Ellie didn’t care. She liked where this was going.

She uses her thumb to pull your mouth open even more. Her kissing becomes desperate, as if she needed you to breathe. You struggled to fully hold her hair as her movements became more passionate, but you tried anyway.

When she pulls away, a small string of spit connects the two of you. She emits a low groan at the sight.

“Fuck,” She whispers. “You’re so pretty like this.”

You look up at her with lustful eyes. “Can you take my clothes off?”

She stares at you before complying, gently pulling your shirt over your head. Her hands trail down the front of your body before hooking under your pant loop and pulling down. You decide to help her when it came to removing your panties.

When she’s done undressing you, she takes the time to fully look at the sight before her. Your bare body was glistening under the fading sunlight. She never thought she’d get the chance to see you under her, much less naked.

“You too,” You add, gesturing to her tank top. She nods before disrobing as well.

She looks down at your body. “Do you want—“

“Ellie,” You interrupt, reaching up to fondle her. Her breasts were perky, and her nipples a pale shade of pink. You eventually slide your hands down onto her hips. “You’ve been hiding all this beauty the whole time?”

She blushes again, speechless from your sudden compliment.

“God.” You whisper. “Ellie, you— your body… it’s stunning.”

Any previous train of thought is cleared from Ellie’s mind. She has no idea what to think or say, or even how to speak, for that matter. All she knows is that, if she’s not careful, she might cum from your words alone.

So she leans down instead, pressing her nose to your chest. She inhales your scent before tilting up and wrapping her lips around your breast. If she was honest, she didn’t want just your nipple — she wants to consume it all. Her other hand massages your other tit.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gently pulled on her scalp. The sensations she’s giving you made you gasp, thighs pressing together on their own.

She eventually switches over to the other side, and does the same thing. This time, she flits her green eyes up at you, carefully watching the faces you make. She drags her free hand down from the side of your breast to your waist, squeezing gently.

“Everything okay?” She whispers.

“Y-Yeah,” You whimper, looking down at her. “That felt really nice.”

She pulls away, leaning forward for one more kiss.

“Can I go down on you?” She asks quietly.

You hum in agreement, and she grins. She brings herself down til her face is just below your bellybutton.

“Smells so good,” She says, placing a small kiss on your pelvis. You prop yourself up against your elbows so you can get a better view looking down.

“I’m gonna lick it a bit,” She says softly. “Wanna know if it feels good.”

“Okay,” You grin.

The first stroke of her tongue is drawn out, almost painfully so. Your mouth watered. You craved the stimulation so bad, it was hard to remind yourself to be patient. But you knew Ellie had more experience than you, so it’s not worth rushing.

The licks after begin feeling much better against your skin. Ellie moaned a few times into your pussy, each noise making you gently rock yourself down against her mouth.

“Fuck—“

She pulls back, only by a centimeter. “Tastes like heaven.”

“Your tongue feels like heaven,” You reply. “It’s— it’s amazing—“

When she goes back in again, she begins to try different techniques. She creates a suction on your cunt while flicking her tongue against your clit. She also just kisses it, making out with it like she’d make out with you.

You told her you’d give her advice and yet, she didn’t need any. Everything she did just felt so fucking good.

“S’ good.” You drawl, rubbing your thigh against the side of her neck. “Want your tongue down there forever.”

Ellie’s own cunt throbs as she hears those words. She hums gently into your pussy, kissing it for a few more minutes before looking up at you.

“What else do you wanna try?”

You look around for a moment. “I— I was… well, I don’t know if you’d wanna.”

“Wanna what, baby?” She asks. “Tell me.”

“Could…” You sigh. “Could I sit on your face? You know what I mean, right? Not actually sit, but—“

She chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. But you could just sit on it, too.”

Ellie flips over so she’s on her back. You lean forward and crawl to where she is before scrunching your lips. “What if you couldn’t breathe?”

“Then I’d die happy,” She replies, giving two light taps on your ass. You take it as a signal to lower yourself down on her.

Something about having you on top of her flips a switch in Ellie. She begins absolutely devouring you like Thanksgiving dinner, arms caging you in so you can’t move away.

“Holy shit,” You grunt. Ellie continues to lap up your juices, licking and sucking them down.

You run your fingers through her sweaty hair. “Mm— fuck. That’s so good, Els. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

Ellie’s losing her mind at the praise. Her hand absentmindedly falls between her legs. She’s needy in the way she fingers her pussy, before getting an idea.

She reaches up and grabs your hand, then gently guides it towards her slick cunt. Unsure of what to do, you begin rubbing circles. It seems to work — Ellie’s breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she continues eating you out.

While Ellie sucks on your clit, you form a rhythm on hers. You try to stay consistent, but it’s hard to focus. You can feel a ball of pressure forming deep in your tummy.

“Ellie,” You groan out, using your other hand to stabilize yourself for support. “I— I think you might make me cum.”

Unconsciously, you grind down on Ellie’s tongue. Your hand remains on her clit as she reaches down and begins pumping her fingers in and out of her hole.

“Cum for me, baby.” She mumbles against your cunt. “Wanna taste it.”

“Yeah?” You whine.

You weren’t sure what made you say your next words, or where it even came from, but it comes out while you’re riding her face.

“Gonna— gonna be a good girl ‘nd make me cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” She grunts, palm tightening around your ass.

Hearing you talk like that instantly makes her a thousand times wetter. She begins sucking on your clit more ferociously as you move your hand to push your hair out of your face.

“So good— you’re makin’ me feel so good, Ellie.” You mewl, feeding her reaction to your words. “This pussy’s all for you. Nobody else.”

A guttural moan comes out from Ellie. You weren’t sure if the compliments were too much, or if she could breathe properly, but you noticed the way she was fingering herself became stronger and more sloppy.

She pulled you down into her mouth, eyes rolled back into her head while she continued to absolutely abuse your pussy with her tongue.

“Oh— J-Just like that,” You stutter. “Fuck— please— just like that, just like that—“

When you erupt on her tongue, you feel unsteady. Your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably as your face scrunches up in pleasure. But Ellie keeps a firm hold on you, relishing in the way you tremble under her touch. She gets off soon after, tightening and pulsing around her own two fingers.

She gets in a few more kisses with your pussy before speaking. “Shit, baby.”

You giggle, letting out a deep breath. “That was… really hot.”

“You’re really hot,” She says, looking up at you and planting one last kiss on your clit. You blush.

“Didn’t know what I was missing out on.” You murmur, climbing off of her. “I… I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”

Ellie thinks for a moment before sitting up. She smiles. “I’m really glad you didn’t.”

“Me, too.” You reply.

You lean in once more, placing another kiss on her lips before turning her cheek and kissing her, there, too. Ellie grabs your hand and presses her lips to the back of it.

“My sweet girl.” She whispers. “I’m so glad I could make you mine.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ellie williams

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bby-deerling · 3 months

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black tea, with honey (zoro x reader)

some soft fluffy comfort <3

wc: 1.0k masterlist || ko-fi

ft. artist!reader, fem!reader, zoro does his best with emotions, robin being cool and awesome, first kisses, saccharine fluff, soft zoro

One wouldn’t know it by the way he had been holding you in his arms mere moments ago, but Zoro was trying in vain to keep distance from you. The gentle companionship built between you was comforting and soothing, but each day spent rocking back and forth on the Merry made it all too clear that the tightly woven string that held his heart to yours was too tough and intricate to snap or fray. Beneath the surface laid a deep affection for you, etched into the raw flesh of his beating heart; he hadn’t felt this before, and was frightened by the prospect of letting it consume him and his ambitions whole.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t quite stay away from you; he tries to keep busy with extra training, but when he spots you sketching on the deck, he can’t stop himself from curiously prying and peeking over your shoulder as he lifts his weights. When the midday sun lulls you into a gentle sleep, he lays against you and dozes off without a second thought as he succumbs to the comfort of your presence, drinking in the sunbeams radiating from your warm, sleepy skin.

And when you sit in the crow’s nest together, keeping watch in shifts, he can’t help pulling you close as you nod off, nestling your head into his broad chest as the waves roll under the night sky. Stars twinkle softly overhead, reflecting gentle resilient light across unfathomable expanses of space, destined to land on your rosy cheeks. He cares—far more than he knew he was capable of—and though the sensation of his heart melting in your embrace is tantalizing, he is concerned about the implications of an entanglement on both his and your dreams and destinies.

He's pulled out of his mind by the harsh clash of metal against porcelain, failing to keep control of his spoon while mixing honey into your tea. “Distracted, swordsman?” Robin asks curiously, her icy eyes tinged with mischief as she observes him struggling to properly place a cover over the top of your mug, despite it being part of his nightly routine as he switched off watch duties with you.

“No. Mind your own business.” he snaps, grateful that the blanket of darkness enveloping the kitchen hides the embarrassed flush on his face. The tension is thick as she scrutinizes him, unnerving him as each movement and expression is evaluated and analyzed.

“Thinking about our little artist? The two of you are quite cute together.” she pries, her grin only growing despite his harsh response to her prior inquiries.

“We’re not together.” he bites back, more defensively than he intends to as he finally secures the lid on your cup, “She has her dream, I have mine, and we both are dedicated to helping Luffy reach his. There’s no room for distractions or screwing around.” The words hang in the air, resonating off the four walls of the kitchen; though he has his reservations about his budding feelings, he regrets the way he's spoken them into existence, and secretly hopes you were still too smothered by sleepiness to listen in.

“Is that so?” Robin challenges, smile dropping from her face as her eyes darken behind her bangs. “So, you wake up beside her, spend all day attached at the hip together, and fall asleep holding her in your arms each night with no purpose or intent?”

She hides her expression behind her teacup as she sips on the soothing chamomile extract; Zoro was far easier to fluster than she had expected him to be, enough so that she swore smoke started billowing from his ears simply from the insinuation that he was being reckless with your heart. For a man who prides himself on being collected and reserved, he’s glaringly obvious when he puts his heart on his sleeve, and though his acts of devotion and care towards you may go unnoticed by other members of the crew, there were not lost on Robin—not for a second.

Taking his reaction as an answer, she continues, switching from probing questions to gentle advice. “Swordsman, I think the only distraction is you overthinking things; you’re both going to the same place—why not go together?” she asks, her eyes softened as she gives him a sly smile. Though Zoro doesn’t speak, the swirling tension in the kitchen dissipates as he takes a deep breath and gives her the slightest hint of a nod as he leaves the kitchen, muttering a quiet g’night under his breath as he carries your cup of tea back to the crow’s nest.

He finds you greeting him with bleary eyes and a sleepy smile, cozy and bundled up in heaps of blankets as you fight the sirens murmuring sweet seaside lullabies into your ear. Soft greetings are exchanged, but he breaks the routine by setting your cup to the side and pausing to look at you, opting to meet your gaze instead of returning to his spot behind you and pulling you flush against his chest. Nothing needs to be said as his fingertips brush your face, and he stares into the pools of starlight in your eyes; how he feels is understood and reciprocated with a single loving, dreamy look—in that moment he knows your fates are twisted and intertwined, and that truthfully, they had been for quite some time. As his lips meet yours there is no hesitation; raw emotion and care guide each soft movement of your mouths as your gentle soul collides with his rough and calloused touch. The entwining of his tongue with yours is a promise, a vow to protect, to cherish, and to love one another—he’s left completely dizzy as he pulls away, giving you the soft, gentle smile that he reserves for you alone.

When he takes his place behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, his head is clear and meditative; he’s lighter, focused, and happy, and he can’t help but feel grateful for Robin’s prying and meddling as he plants a kiss on the top of your head.

“Sweet dreams, Zoro…” you whisper softly as your attention turns to the crashing waves, humming contently at the way his head nestles into your shoulder. He silently replies with a chaste press of his lips against the sensitive column of your neck; indulging in the comfort of your skin lulls him into a deep sleep, and leaves you blushing and buzzing with energy as you sip on your lovingly prepared cup of tea.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro #zoro #x reader #zoro fluff #i love him sooooooooo much #zoro my beloved.....<3 #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario

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latoyalestrange · 1 year

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sleepless

n. scamander x f!reader

look at him omg

summary: you pull an all-nighter to help newt with his book. he just so happens to think you look very cute while struggling to stay awake for him.

words: idk not a lot

warnings: very old blurb from when fbawtft first came out omg. just fluff tho. minors dni tho BACK I SAY!!!

You loved Newt's creatures almost more than you loved Newt himself. You loved working on his book with him, you loved taking care of the creatures. But sometimes life caught up to you, and you suddenly realized you hadn't slept in the last 24 hours. It was 11 PM, the last time you had actually slept was 24 hours ago when you woke up in the middle of the night to Frank carrying on in his biome.

You smiled when you remembered how Newt tried to pull you back into bed when you went to see if Frank was okay. Then you told him what you heard and he was out the door before you stood up. You looked back up at Pickett and scribbled some more in your notebook. Pickett tried to run off the table, but you put your hand in front of him to stop him.

"Now, Pickett. I told you he'd only be a moment," You scolded Pickett and put him back on the table. He stuck his tiny tongue out at you. You did the same. You bowed your head to sketch some more, and could feel yourself slowly drifting. You blinked prufsely, and tried to stay awake, to no avail. You closed your eyes in defeat and gradually slipped into a light slumber. You could feel two warm hands begin to massage your shoulders whilst you were half awake.

"Darling?" Newt's voice echoed in your mind. "Darling, are you okay?" Your head flew up, your head now right next to Newt's as he continued to massage your neck and back. He chuckled and kissed your neck gently.

"Let's go to bed, love," He suggested as he squeezed your chest and bit your ear. You smiled and moaned quietly.

"I would love that," You whispered in his ear. Pickett screeched, which made you remember how tired you were. "But I haven't slept in legitimately 24 hours," He kissed your neck once more before he gathered your things in his arms. You stood up from the bench and carried Pickett to his tree home. Newt waited for you with his arm stretched out, a signal for you to take his hand. You did so, and he lead you to the cottage the two of you shared. You went straight into the bedroom, and Newt, however, stacked your things neatly on the kitchen table and changed into more comfortable clothes before he joined you in bed.

"I love you, Y/N," He whispered as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face with his middle finger.

"I love you too," You replied. You scooted closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on his nose. Before you could pull away, he rested his hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss.

"As much as I would love to stay up kiss you, darling, you must get to sleep. Now, I love you more than anything-" He was cut off by your snoring. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I love you too," You replied in your sleep. He blushed and wrapped his arms around you.

"Sweet dreams, my sleepless love,"

#newt scamander #fantastic beats and where to find them #harry potter cu #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander fluff #newtblurb

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sunflowersandsapphires · 2 months

Text

A Hint of Lovely Oblivion

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: After a week of sleeping terribly, Frank makes an effort to help you get the rest you deserve.

warnings: Swearing, fluff, caring Frank, this is not medical advice

a/n: I wrote this for my lovely bestie @madschiavelique who wanted some Frankie comfort. As someone who deals with insomnia pretty regularly, this was very cathartic! I hope you all enjoy. A huge thank you to my other bestie @gracethyomen for beta-ing and helping me plan this fic!

w/c: 4.6k

Inhaling deeply, the frigid air of the room made your nose twitch. Sliding as deep as you could into the blanket pile while maintaining your seated position, you bit your lip, shifting the pad of paper on your lap and craning your neck once again. While your duvet provided an excellent shield to lock in heat, your shoulders inevitably poked out whenever you weren’t fully horizontal, leaving your body to sit in a temperature regulation purgatory; your consciousness rumbled uneasily as the hair on the back of your neck refused to flatten, your brain torn between making you shiver or letting you sweat. The position was far from comfortable—but being awake all night made comfort an unattainable goal for you anyways.

It had been days since you’d slept through the night. You were no stranger to insomnia, you’d been cursed with it your entire life, but lately it had dug its malicious claws into your chest with the violence of a starving feral animal. Your bed, which used to be a haven of rest and relaxation, was now a space that you avoided at all costs—the wonderfully soft pillows and warm blankets mocking you as they sat untouched well into the night, fatigue never overtaking you when you needed it to. For the first few nights of your ongoing battle with sleeplessness, you’d crawl under the covers anyway, praying to any deity listening that the weight and heat of the fabric would force your eyelids to close—but it never did.

Sighing as your pencil tip snapped, you closed your eyes, letting your breath rest in your lungs for a moment before exhaling again; apparently your frustration with your own hormone production created a physical pressure on the lead of your pencil. Picking up a fresh one from your nightstand, you did your best to clean up the smear of graphite from the impact of the broken point.

Turning your attention back to the subject of your sketch, you chewed your lip to stifle a smile. Despite the thick curtains your partner had insisted on, a sliver of moonlight illuminated the massive man slumbering beside you, quietly snoring away—completely oblivious to the inspiration he'd given you. The feather-light moon beams shone through his tousled hair, creeping down over his face, which was adorably mashed against his singular pillow. Considering that he'd turned up a handful of hours ago drenched in other people's blood, it was downright ironic to be calling him “adorable” as he slept—but you couldn't shake the giddy feeling that always bubbled up when you saw his face so lax with sleep. His expression was so uncharacteristically peaceful, it never failed to make you happy.

Sure, not sleeping sucked. You'd be plagued with jaw-cracking yawns and mild memory loss in the morning, just like yesterday and the day before that. Having the opportunity to watch Frank sleep soundly, didn't make up for the fact that you'd accidentally put orange juice in your coffee yesterday, but it made the build up of irritation much easier to bear. Which is why you'd decided to memorialize it in your sketchbook.

Studying the map of shadows on Frank's handsome face, you scratched the pencil over the thick paper, the rasping sound soothing the constant buzzing in your brain. Scrunching your nose as you tried to smooth out the sketch in front of you, you nearly jumped out of your skin when he spoke.

“Why're you up, darlin'?” His voice was rough with exhaustion. Noticing your wide eyes and ragged inhale, a large hand slid up to rest on your thigh. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.”

”It's alright, Frankie. I wasn't paying attention.“ You tried to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

His hand stroked over your leg as he waited for you to answer his question. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the book across your lap, pencil moving fluidly through the silence. Tracing a thumb over your warm skin, Frank frowned. “Ya didn't answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Hmm?” Your tone was innocent, but the way your eyes remained glued to your work was enough to tell him you had definitely heard the question.

Squeezing your thigh with a yawn, Frank tried not to groan as he dragged himself up to sit next to you. His movement finally captured your attention, your brow furrowing as you set your pencil aside. “What are you doing?”

Giving what he hoped was a nonchalant shrug, Frank slid an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. ”Sittin' with my girl. That a crime now?“

Smiling despite the guilt flaring in your chest, you shoved at his solid torso feebly. ”Go back to sleep, Frankie. I'm sorry I woke you. I can—“ Shuffling in your seat, you tilted towards the edge of the mattress, fully intending to relocate to a different room so that Frank could go back to bed. Foiling your plan, Frank's arms held fast against your teetering, pulling you flush against his chest.

”Don't you dare.“ He growled, chin resting atop your crown.

”Frank! I didn't even finish my thought,“ You wriggled against his hold, your brain torn between reacting with endearment or annoyance over being imprisoned by his strength. “Let me go, you...you...butthead.” Whining at your own lackluster insult, you buried your face in Frank's neck as he chuckled.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Ain't gotta go for my throat like that.” Frank murmured smugly. You could envision his shit-eating smirk despite it being out of your line of sight.

”Shut up,“ You muttered, a tiny smile gracing your lips against your will. Your body trembled as Frank shook with rumbling laughter. Drawing you into his arms, Frank set your legs over his lap, positioning you towards the windows. The gusting heat from the vent closest to your bed ruffled the fabric covering the panes, the pale glowing rays of moonlight fluttering over your knees as the drapes shifted. It created a mesmerizing dance of light and dark, captivating you.

”Ya gonna tell me how long you've been sittin' here starin' at me or did ya wanna keep pretendin' you were asleep?” In defense of your ruthlessly persistent boyfriend, it has been said that the third time’s the charm. His tone was as delicate as his gruff voice allowed, the muscles of his jaw and throat rippling against your scalp as he spoke.

Eyes falling closed, you focused on the warmth of Frank’s body surrounding you as you willed the tears pricking your eyes to back down. Another unfortunate side effect of sleep deprivation—your emotions started to go haywire over the littlest things.

It wasn’t that you thought Frank would be angry. Well, it wasn’t the biggest anxiety on your mind, at least. It was more the fear of burdening him with your own issues at all hours when you knew a good night’s sleep was practically a miracle for him. The first night at home after a few weeks away always seemed to make it come easier, but other than that Frank rarely rested. The mere thought of forcing him to sit up with you, especially on the one night this week he’d get a full 8 hours, grabbed your guilty conscience by the throat.

Giving a halfhearted shrug, you caved. “Dunno. Slept for a few hours when we went to bed. Then I got up and...” Trailing off, you gestured to the bed in front of you, which was clearly not being used for sleep.

Frank withdrew from the embrace and your pounding heart sank. You set your jaw, waiting for the frustrated scolding…but it never came. Instead, one calloused finger landed underneath your chin, tilting it upwards as he spoke. “You been awake that long?” His eyes shone with concern, boring ferociously into yours.

Nodding miserably, you swallowed the overwhelming shame crawling up your esophagus before speaking. “I’m sorry, Frank. I tried to sleep, but I just couldn’t—“

Cutting you off with a tender kiss, Frank’s hand moved to cup your cheek. “Nothin’ to be sorry about, honey. Ya shoulda woken me up.”

Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you bit your lip, ”You deserve to sleep uninterrupted. I didn't want to be the one to take that away from you.“

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek as he was overrun with waves of adoration and sympathy for you. How he'd managed to end up with such a considerate partner, he'd never know. Especially when he didn't consistently return the gesture.

He'd come home yesterday and practically collapsed into your arms—ignoring how unsteady your balance seemed when you dragged him into the apartment, blaming it on his own weight. You'd patched him up sweetly, as you always did, and Frank hadn't thought twice about the fact that you'd had to leave the room three times to get the gauze, assuming your memory had just been shaken by his battered appearance.

Was he truly so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he hadn't noticed the sunken crescents underneath your eyes? They were so prominent now, stark sepia bruises on your otherwise even skin. It must have been days since you slept properly. Beside himself with worry, his thumb traced the indent under your left eye. ”Shit sweetheart...“

”I'm—“ You started to apologize, but it stuck in your throat when Frank shook his head.

”Hey, none of that. Don't wanna hear it, ok?” You nodded in response to his gentle command, sitting there quietly as he schemed. “Are you tired at all?”

The pitiful shake of your head seemed to make up his mind.

Unwinding from you, he raised his arms above his head in a stretch, moaning as his back popped with the movement. Your face scrunched in disapproval, making him grimace sheepishly. “Sorry, honey. Guess I was stiff from drivin' all day.” Without waiting for your response, he slid out of bed. Your brow furrowed as he strode over to the dresser, pulling a shirt over his rumpled hair.

“Get dressed, darlin'. I have an idea.” He called to you over his shoulder as he rummaged for a clean pair of pants. Sighing, you abandoned the bubble of heat surrounding you in bed and headed for the closet.

Despite your grumbles and evident confusion, the two of you were dressed and on the road before the sun even peeked over the horizon. With one hand settled in yours, Frank kept his gaze trained on the road ahead, trying not to laugh at your exasperated questioning and adorable pout. Dragging you out of the house at this hour might not have been his brightest idea—since he normally tried to remain on your good side—but hey, he’d gotten this far without you chewing his head off.

Frank could hardly be considered a morning person, but you were practically nocturnal. Leaving the house before dawn was probably high up on your list of personal hells, but staying in bed when you couldn’t sleep wasn’t a good idea. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Curtis’s agitated tone.

“For the last time, Frank: staying in bed will make it worse.”

Way back in the day, during his first trip home after going overseas, he’d bugged Curtis relentlessly about his own sleep issues. Maria was tired enough raising a wandering toddler and an imaginative kindergartener, she didn’t need to worry about a restless marine to boot. He’d tried every suggestion under the sun, but sleep still evaded him. Tour after tour, night after night, he’d lay beside his wife in their bed and stare at the ceiling until his alarm went off. After his family died, well…it didn’t exactly get easier to rest.

Despite scouring the internet, a few libraries, and the expanse of Curt’s brain for any possible cures, his sleeplessness persisted. It was a torture he endured for years, and an anguish he wouldn’t wish on anyone but his worst enemies.

Finding out that you also dealt with insomnia was a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, not having to explain his fickle moods and constant absence from the bedroom was a welcomed relief. On the other, seeing the symptoms of sleep deprivation in someone he cared about was an agony worse than an infected bullet wound.

He knew what you were going through all too well, which meant he was determined to try and help. Getting you out of the house was just the first step of his admittedly too-detailed plan.

His lips twitched with a smile as he spotted the building. Turning into the ragged asphalt lot behind the restaurant, he turned his attention to you.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you remained unimpressed. “A diner?”

Letting out a bark of laughter at your obvious disdain for the activity, Frank pointed a finger at you in warning. “Hey, don’t knock it til ya try it, sweetheart.” His exaggerated stern expression broke through your apprehension, your lips turning upwards into a fond smile.

“There’s my pretty girl.” Frank pressed a kiss to your temple, heart swelling as you leaned into him. “If ya wanna go home, just say the word.”

Biting your lip, you glanced out the window at the electric blue awning extending from the glass doors. The yellow lamp lights lining the sidewalk reflected in your wide eyes as you stared. “No, we can go. I, just…can I ask you a question first?”

“Course, honey. Anythin’.”

“Why here?” Your question was soft, but genuine; your curiosity was outweighing the contempt you’d previously shown for his choice of destination.

Running a hand through his hair, he gave a one-armed shrug. “Fuck, well... ya know I’m no stranger to the whole…not sleepin’ thing. And, uh, back in the early days, when it was real bad for me, I’d come here. We– er– Maria and I, we took the kids here a couple of times. Dunno, wanted to remember the good times, I guess, and it became a sort of tradition. Thought it might help you too.”

With a stuttering inhale, you reached for his hand, stroking a finger over his knuckles as you looked up at him shyly. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I didn’t mean to be rude about it, I’m sorry.”

Squeezing your fingers, he could feel heat creeping up his face. “It’s nothin’ sweetheart. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Glancing back out the window for a moment, Frank could see the gears turning in your head as you turned back to him with a tiny grin.

“Lead the way?” You asked tentatively.

“For you, sweet girl? Always.” He pressed a kiss to your hand, his stubble scratching at the skin of your fingers.

Frank ushered the two of you inside and into a booth in the back of the diner. The restaurant was lacking in customers, as could be expected given the early hour. While the inky black sky was broken up with dim streetlights outside of the building, the inside was flooded with fluorescent lights--so bright that you had to shield your eyes with a limp hand for a few minutes.

Once your vision adjusted, you had to admit that the energy in the diner was quite nice. The chipped linoleum tiles that lined the floor were a gorgeous cobalt blue. Along the ceiling, large chunks of the roof had been replaced with thick panes of glass, allowing you to watch the clouds float by, the darkness of the night contrasting beautifully with the intense lighting. You and Frank were seated on a worn vinyl booth, the strips of fabric alternating between silver and black. Similar booths wrapped around the space, almost twinkling as you looked at them.

“So,” Frank pushed a mug towards you. “Whaddya think?”

“It's nice.” You murmured, pulling the warm cup closer to yourself. Somehow you'd missed him ordering himself coffee and you a tea in your distracted state.

Frank cocked his head at you, lips turned up in a smug smirk. ”’S that so?“

Smiling into your mug as you took a sip, you retorted. ”Shut up.“

The drink was warm and, thankfully, unsweetened. It's crisp flavor relaxed your shoulders as you sipped, settling your anxious stomach.

“Hope mint is a’right.” Frank spoke quietly, a blush creeping up his face as he studied his own drink.

“You remembered.” You breathed out, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly as your eyes prickled with emotion.

“Course I did.” Frank huffed, draining the rest of his black coffee. You shuddered in distaste and he chuckled, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand. “You hungry at all?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Frank sighed, but didn't push further on the subject, which you were very grateful for. You'd never explicitly spoken to him about the effect your insomnia had on your eating habits, but--being the observant partner he was--he'd clearly picked up on it anyways. Once your day started with little to no sleep, it was like all of your bodily functions forgot how to...function. Hunger and thirst cues were practically impossible to read, your body and brain battling each other ferociously at every turn. Which, of course, just exhausted you further.

Scrubbing at one eye with the heel of your free hand, you grit your teeth to keep from groaning. Dwelling on how miserable you were going to feel today wouldn't solve anything, it would just worsen your mood.

”Head botherin' ya?“ Frank asked, brow folding in concern as he watched you knead at your forehead.

”No more than usual.“ You cracked a small smile, hoping that didn't sound as sad as you thought it did. “Just...frustrated with myself.”

“I feel ya, sweetheart. Not sleepin' ain't any fun. But I have some ideas, so don't you worry your pretty little head about it, ok?” Frank tangled his fingers with yours, his gaze earnest.

“You get ideas?” You scoffed, grinning when Frank rolled his eyes in return.

“Ya know what? Just for that, I ain't gonna tell ya about 'em.”

“Nooo,” You whined, taking Frank's massive hand in both of yours and pouting at him. ”I was just kidding. Please tell me.“

”Hmm, I dunno. First you insulted the diner, then my intelligence. Seems like you don't want my help, sweetheart.“ Frank withdrew from your grasp, pretending to sulk into his coffee.

Giggling at Frank’s pout, you reassured him. ”No, I do! I do!“

With a sad little shrug, Frank glanced forlornly out the window.

“Please Frankie,” Pleading with your gaze, you tried to keep a straight face. “You're my only hope.”

Dropping his startlingly believable moping act, Frank cackled. “Ya think you're real clever, don't ya?”

Smirking into your tea, you gulped down the last remnants with a shrug. ”Maybe.“

After your countless apologies for insulting his intellect, Frank finally explained why he'd encouraged–forced–you to leave the house before sunrise. Apparently he'd heard that staying in bed while awake could perpetuate the cycle of sleep deprivation. And, though you were loath to admit it, it seemed to help.

The little excursion definitely lifted your spirits, if nothing else. You were able to admire the sunrise and mess around with Frank without your anxiety skyrocketing because of the city crowds. It was nice, and you told him such–even at the risk of over-inflating his ego.

His next activity, however, was not as pleasant.

“Are you going to have me carry you around the apartment next?” You groused, hefting the bedframe up so that you could adjust your rapidly loosening grip on the cold metal. This much physical labor on an empty stomach and no sleep was not what you’d had in mind for a relaxing day with Frank. He, however, was insistent on moving the furniture in your room immediately upon your return home.

“You offerin'?” Frank smirked at you, pretending to set the bed frame down. His eyes glinted with a humor you didn’t share over the current situation.

“Fuck no.” You muttered, glaring at him until he lifted the majority of the weight once more. Frank laughed deeply.

“Set it right over here, darlin’. We gotta move your dresser and then we’re all done.”

“You know, if you hated the layout of my room so much, you could’ve told me months ago.” Instead of waiting until I was already reaching my limit. You thought to yourself, not vocalizing that particular vulnerability.

“And have you put me out on my ass for bein’ so forward? I’d never, sweetheart.” Frank chuckled, adjusting your bed as you collapsed against the mattress with a huff. “I’m teasin’, honey. It’s an old trick Curt told me about. All the rearrangin’ is supposed to help your brain remember how to sleep, or some shit.”

Rubbing at your forehead as the ache that had been plaguing you all day made a sudden resurgence, your limbs instinctively curled into fetal position as a small whimper escaped your lips.

“It’s helping it remember to bother me is what it’s doing.” You grumbled, gritting your teeth as the pain ebbed and flowed. You knew the more you thought about it, the more it would torture you–but the stabbing sensation was all that your fatigued brain could focus on right now.

Frank snorted, sitting beside you gingerly and caressing your hunched back with an open palm. “‘M sorry, sweet girl. Let me get ya some meds and you can lie here while I finish movin’ shit around.”

Your body felt like it was aimlessly floating, untethered to the Earth and hurrying to escape the pain so viciously attacking it at the moment. You were so tired. Every blink was a reminder of the heaven that had been ripped from your delicate grasp hours ago because your body couldn’t even function in the way it was designed to. Brow scrunching, you burrowed under the covers with a sigh.

“Ya better not be sleepin’ on me, honey.” Frank murmured as he stepped back into the room.

“Course not,” You mumbled. “Would never…”

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but ya gotta stay awake until it’s dark. Naps will just make ya feel worse, trust me.” He trailed a finger down your arm, taking your hand and placing some painkillers into it. Waiting patiently until you begrudgingly dragged yourself into a seated position, Frank smiled softly at you as you popped the pills into your mouth. Holding the glass of water out to you, the Marine squeezed your leg as you drank, tucking his chin over your head as you collapsed wearily into his side.

“The big bad Punisher takes naps? Hard to picture, Frankie.” You teased, your voice morphing into a satisfied hum as he threaded his fingers into your hair.

Frank scoffed, kissing your crown before returning the jest. “Maybe I should take the vest off before closin’ my eyes next time.”

You giggled, burying your face into his neck. His warm flesh felt wonderful on your pounding head, soothing the pain behind your eyes with each measured breath. “Do you cuddle your guns like teddy bears?” The question was overtly ridiculous, but Frank loved you enough to entertain it anyway.

“Course. What else would I do with ‘em?” He asked coyly.

Looking up at him, the corners of your lips lifted as he pressed a line of gentle kisses down your nose until he reached your lips.

“If I turn on the TV, are ya gonna pass out on top of me?” He murmured, his stubble scratching your face as he spoke.

“Wouldn't dream of it, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sturdy jawline before he stood up to grab the remote.

If someone would’ve told you a year ago that your next boyfriend could make a bad insomnia week feel tolerable, you never would’ve believed them. But here you were—lying on your stomach completely topless as Frank massaged a lightly scented lotion into your back—feeling pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement.

After you’d failed to stay awake during the movie you’d picked out, Frank had carted you around town on various errands: picking up groceries, going to the bookstore, and even taking a quick walk around the park to feed the ducks, which he knew you loved. Your body still ached, and your mood still waned, but overall, it was a good day. And all the credit belonged to your incredible partner.

Groaning appreciatively, it felt like you were melting into the mattress as Frank tenderly stretched your taught muscles, unraveling the knots of stress that had been building up all week.

Chuckling, Frank pressed a tiny kiss to your bare shoulder. “Glad it feels good, sweetheart.”

“No, it’s awful,” You lied. “You clearly need more practice..”

Frank snorted, “Noted. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Tired.” You sighed, rolling over as Frank handed you one of his tees to sleep in.

“I bet. We’re on the last leg, sweetheart, almost there.” Frank’s large hands eagerly wrapped around you as you nestled into his side. Cupping your face with one palm, the fingers of his other hand threaded into your hair, detangling it carefully and brushing it off of your face.

Biting your lip in frustration, and to keep from sighing again, you nodded. Attempting an understanding smile, you poked him in the chest. “I know. Thanks for putting up with my cranky self today.”

“Sweetheart, you can be snappy with me as much as ya want if it means you’ll sleep through the night.” Frank smirked, squishing your cheek as your eyes suddenly blurred with tears.

“I love you.” You whispered, going limp in his hold as he settled against the pillows.

“I love you too, darlin’. So much.” Resting your foreheads together, he kissed you delicately and your lashes fluttered.

“Frankie?” You looked up at him with your practiced ‘doe eyes’ expression that he could never resist.

“Yah?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Can you read to me?” Batting your lashes, you watched with satisfaction as Frank’s expression softened, your eyes taking in the exact moment he caved to your whims.

Straightening his posture stoically, he reached over to grab your new book from the nightstand with an exasperated huff. “Oh, I see. This was all a scheme of yours to get me to read to ya? ‘S that it?”

“No…” You giggled, nuzzling into him as he cracked the novel open.

“Sure, sure. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, sweetheart. Think ya owe me compensation.” He winked at you, eyes lingering on your face.

“Honey, before ya drift off, jus’...” Sighing, he stroked a thumb over your cheek. “Just know, if all this doesn’t work, cause it ain’t a cure all, ya know–”

Laying your hand over his, you gave him an encouraging look. He inhaled sharply, thinking about how he wanted to phrase the sentiment.

“I want you to sleep, darlin’, ya know I do. But if it doesn’t happen tonight, we can always try again, ok?”

Startled by the affection in his tone and his beautiful promise, your face went slack as you nodded. Eyes flitting over your gaze, he nodded curtly once he decided you understood. Returning his attention to the book in his hands, he cleared his throat before beginning to read. His rumbling velvet tone soothed you, your eyes falling closed almost immediately. Here, in the safety of Frank’s arms, surrounded by his beautiful voice and reassured by his adorable promise, you finally felt at peace. Though you knew sleep might continue to evade you, the anxiety you’d felt about your insomnia didn’t feel quite as all-consuming tonight. Whatever happened, Frank would be there. And, for now, that was enough.

Thanks for reading!!

#frank castle #my writing #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher netflix #the punisher imagine #punisher #netflix the punisher #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #fc

170 notes · View notes

shawnxstyles · 11 months

Note

we need a part two when they finish the project please

sweetheart (part 2)

warnings: smut; (f- receiving [fingering, clit stimulation], praise kink, protected sex, slight cock-warming, dirty talk), and tiny fluff

note: i’m soooo sorry i haven’t been as active. once june starts i’ll be able to write more and post more stories, but right now i’m super busy. i have a few fics right now that i’ve started, but haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and finish them. so for now, please accept this blurb 😖 sweetheart part 1

—

you’ve always had a liking for school, in every aspect. unlike most people, you enjoyed doing homework and projects because it helped you understand the material you were learning. specifically, you adored science. you thought that the facts and what-ifs of the universe were fascinating, and you wouldn’t mind spending your whole life experimenting to discover new things. you absolutely loved chemistry and found it fun to analyze different equations to see what substance creates which reaction.

but right now, you’ve never hated science more.

peter is sitting on his computer typing away on the essay portion while you’re trying to focus on writing the poster. in all honesty, he gave you the easier job and you’re grateful, but you can’t seem to focus. not after he had his warm mouth on your pussy only two hours ago. every few moments, you would peek at peter’s fingers typing. you were getting so desperate to the point that each word he typed sent a tingle down your belly. when you two made light conversation, you swear his voice got a little deeper each time, and the rumbly rasp nearly sent you flying onto his lap.

“y/n, did you hear me?” you did not hear him.

“huh?” you blinked a few times, shaking all your dirty thoughts of his fingers from you. but they looked so rough and they moved so quickly, just like they did in you—

“are you okay?” no, you were not okay.

“uh, yeah, i’m fine,” you lied because you just wanted to finish the project, so peter could withhold his promise. that promise was the only thing getting you through this poster. there seemed to be a million facts and a lot of diagrams.

“what’d i say about lying?” peter asked with a head tilt and an octave-lower voice, his fingers halting on the keyboard. your heart skipped an erratic beat and your pencil dropped onto the poster paper.

“d-don’t do it.”

“good, you remembered,” he smirked subtly before typing away again. you take shallow breaths, wondering how he takes away your breath so easily.

the pulsing need of your clit and the burning of your stomach keep you from focusing. after ten minutes of hazily writing and sketching nonsense, you swallow your fear.

“peter, i was wondering if…we could take a break?” you suggested, pencil spinning around your anxious finger.

“sure, that sounds good,” he replies, but not the way you wanted him to. you watch as he saves his progress and closes his computer before walking around the kitchen island. he grabs two cups of water and hands one over to you when you appear at his side.

“oh, i’m not thirsty,” you smile to deny his offer.

“but you will be,” peter says nonchalantly before taking a smooth sip of his water. you feel the all-too familiar blush cascade across your neck as your eyes wander around the floor.

“are you all shy now? you didn’t seem to be when you were checking me out earlier,” peter taunts with a fake-innocent smile and places his glass on the counter. your eyes go wide for a moment, embarrassed that you were caught. “what? you didn’t think i saw you looking at me like you were going to jump on me? i know needy eyes when i see them, baby.”

the overwhelming heat of your skin fogs up your brain, making it impossible to focus on anything but the words leaving his lips. you’re silently begging him to touch you, to mend that ache in your cunt with his rough fingers. and hopefully, his cock. god, you want to see and feel his cock more than anything. you bet it would stretch you out for a whole week.

you swear you’re not normally like this.

“something’s on your mind,” peter observes with squinted eyes and a hand under his chin. “what is it?”

oh, just the idea of you fucking me into oblivion that’s all is what you wanted to say, but of course you didn’t. you mumbled out some gibberish that he couldn’t understand.

“i can’t hear you, sweetheart,” his words were so condescending, and in some twisted way, it turned you on so much.

“your promise,” you finally said, looking at his eyes. with each passing moment they grew from brown to shades darker.

“oh, i see,” peter tsks, “please, remind me what my promise was again? i seem to have forgotten.”

peter just loves games. especially the ones where he can feel your skin radiating fiery heat and watch your body squirm in its place. like he has all night, he’s been able to smell your arousal throughout the two hours you’ve been working. it utterly killed him to sit steady and type some scientific essay that wasn’t nearly as entertaining as your moans or ogasmic face. it was even worse knowing that you were just as desperate, but most likely didn’t want to interrupt your guys’ work time. what an angel you were.

but right now, peter’s never wanted to do more sinful things.

“you said…” how does he say such dirty words with ease? “you said we could continue what we were doing earlier.”

you lean your back against the counter, heart beating erratically in your chest as you try to remain cool. but your entire body was on fire and your clit was throbbing in your soaked underwear, so it was pretty difficult to stay focused.

“and what was that? use your words,” peter softly demands, licking his lips smugly. a never-ending heat cascades through your body, making your heart beat faster than ever. you breathe in, trying to get the courage to be so upfront.

“you said you would…fuck me,” you surprised yourself when you said the words. they sounded even bolder than you would have thought. every little moment he doesn’t say anything makes you think he’s just going to laugh at you. at this point, you think you’ve gone insane because you can no longer feel your heart beating. just the impending silence dangling between you two.

“good girl. now i remember,” peter smiles proudly and inches his way closer to you. his hand snakes up your neck and caresses your jaw. his thumb plays innocently with your bottom lip as your trembling breath huffs out. he could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would let him. “it wouldn’t be very nice if i didn’t keep my promise, would it?”

“no,” you waver out. your legs are stiffened together and your eyes are straining on his every move.

peter solely smirks before leaning down to kiss you. like the movies, his kiss is soft and pleasant. the way your lips molded together caused such an intense chemical reaction, and you would love to experiment on it. multiple times. every day. you would kiss him as many times as you could. you never would forget the magnetic feeling of his lips on yours.

your hands get lost in his brown hair, twisting their way through his ends. you’re so lost within his kiss that you didn’t even comprehend when he said “jump,” but you subconsciously listened and leaped into his hold. peter carried you to his bedroom, which you have been dying to see since you walked through the door. you believed someone’s bedroom said a lot about them.

however, you were too focused on other things to analyze peter’s bedroom. peter delicately lays you onto his black sheets, still kissing you like the world is ending. he slowly makes his way down your warm neck as you hum at the feeling. knowing what’s coming, you don’t wait for peter to ask permission behind discarding your own shirt. you close your eyes and tell yourself to not be self-conscious. he’s already seen you naked, so why be nervous?

seeing this, peter frowns slightly. his rough fingertip taps lightly on your temple. “open. wanna see your pretty eyes.”

your stomach tingles at his words before obeying his request. instead of smirking, peter smiles goofily and then kisses your cheek. a wave of warmth erupts through your skin at his affection. your entire body was covered in flames at this point, and you wondered if you would even be alive to get to the good part.

his tough hands roam your supple skin in hopes of exploring every inch. the rough texture left tingles in its trail.

“jeans?” he asks, looking up at you for approval.

“yes. please, peter,” you rushed and pleaded. your clit was begging for some friction, and you were about to start crying if you didn’t get something.

“gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” peter sang, thumbs rubbing the supple skin of your inner thighs teasingly. you wavered out a shaky breath, trying to conjure up the words.

“i need you so bad it hurts,” you whimpered. you were honest with peter, but your words weren’t what he wanted.

“i bet it does, baby. but that’s not what i asked,” peter flicks your clit through your underwear causing you to gasp at this unexpected movement. your thighs twitch and tighten at his teasing. he does it a few more times, just to get your body even more excited, and to get you to finally speak up.

“f-fuck! peter, i need your cock. i-i need you to fuck me,” you shouted, louder than you intended, but that was even better for peter.

“look who’s using her words,” peter says smugly, making your roll your eyes. you both assist in shrugging your panties off, making you completely naked while peter is still fully dressed. you reach for his shirt, but he’s already a step ahead of you and pulls it off himself.

when you see his body, you swear you almost faint. peter had six bulky packs of muscle on his abdomen and lumps of muscle on his arms. his chest was buff and tight, yet looked soft all at the same time. you had to blink a few times to make sure he was real. you even poked a finger at his stomach just to make sure it didn’t go through him like a ghost or a hologram. peter chuckles at your antics before grabbing your hand and kissing it, just like he had done earlier in the evening. and just like earlier, you felt yourself blush profusely and feel tingly all over again.

while you’re smiling like a goof, peter’s hands resume on your body. you instantly stop smiling because you remembered just how much he’s deprived you. but he’s also given you more than anyone else has in the past…

his digits caress your soaking slit between your crossed legs. you gasp because he’s finally touching you bare.

“open,” he demands softly, voice deep and lustful. shakily, you listen and do so. peter doesn’t hesitate to find your lips again with his fingers.

you quietly moan at the delicate pressure, feeling the smallest bit of friction. just as you were about to beg him for more, or to hurry up, his middle finger slips inside of you. it was almost embarrassing how easy it was. the amount of wetness you were leaking could fix the california drought.

“god, you’re so wet. what made you like this?” peter slowly pushed his finger in and out, thumb circling your puffy clit at the same time.

“you, peter! fuck,” you clenched around his digit, needing release already.

“are you thinking about my cock? hmm?” peter questioned, voice gravely as he leans over you. “are you thinking about me inside of you? thinking about how much i’m going to stretch your little pussy out?”

you groan at his foul language, pulsing barbarically. you’re straining to keep your eyes open, trying to obey his earlier request and to intake the moment. peter urges you to come, increasing his thrusts and pace. before you know it, your core is tightening and you’re squeezing peter’s fingers until you do. you thought you cut off his circulation from how hard you were clutching onto him, but when he pulls his fingers away and licks them proudly, you knew he was just fine.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” a smirk dances upon his lips as your taste lingers in his mouth. he’ll never forget that taste, no matter what happens after tonight. he’s hoping there will be more nights like these. more days too.

“can you please fuck me now, peter?–”

he holds up a finger to your lips.

“all of a sudden you know how to use your words and it still sounds so dirty coming from your pretty lips.”

in the blink of an eye, peter is reaching over to his night stand to grab a condom (hopefully). when you see the tinfoil wrapping, he stuffs it between your teeth, making you hold onto it. you then watch as he undresses his pants, clearly taking all the time in the world like he has it.

the smell of your orgasm and your wetness is haunting peter’s senses. the scent of you is never going to rid from his body or his room. he also doesn’t ever want you to leave, so he’s going to drag this out as long as possible.

once his pants are finally off, you get the courage to undo the wrapper while he’s taking his underwear off. holding the condom, you almost drop it once you see his length. he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had. the tip of cock is bright red and leaking a bit of pre-cum, clearly just as desperate as you.

“fuck,” you mumble when looking at him. all he does is smirk before taking the condom from your hand and putting it over himself. peter leans over you again, face over face.

“ready, sweetheart?” his smirk lingers while you clench around nothing. you can feel the overwhelming sensation of your clit throbbing and you just want him to mend it. “ready to be fucked so hard you can’t leave?”

“yes, peter. fuck me hard.”

with your final words, peter is gently sinking into you. your wet folds encompass his cock snuggly causing you both to groan in delight. after a few moments, he starts to rock his body and you release a string of moans with every thrust. you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, but fail to do so. the sensations are indescribable throughout your body.

peter’s actions get harder, rougher. just like you wanted. he’s flicking his hips into yours with skilled movements while his face is relaxing in the crease of your neck. you feel his warm breath on you as he groans into your ear, lighting your whole body on fire.

“shit, peter, it feels so good. don’t stop,” you whine when he hits a certain part inside of you. your hand creeps down in between you both to rub the ache in your clit, but peter stops you.

“love when you touch yourself,” he grunts, never halting his movements, “but that’s my job right now.”

so, peter begins harshing rubbing your clit to no end. instead, your hands squeeze tightly on his biceps while he pounds into you so hard, you see stars. your never-ending wetness makes it so easy for him to slip in and out.

you feel yourself clutch onto his cock and when he moans, he sounded like the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“i-i love when you moan,” you croaked out, feeling too blissful to speak coherently.

“yeah? what else do you like?” peter huffs out, still smug as ever, even when he’s deep inside of you.

“l-love when you talk dirty, peter.”

“knew you were fucking filthy.”

with his rough words, you’re on the brink of your orgasm. your core tightens like it did earlier and your nails are digging deliciously into his skin. peter hisses in pleasurable pain, loving what you’re doing to him.

as your orgasm flows over you, your heart beats a million miles an hour and your breathing becomes staggered. the moans you elicit were just as filthy and pornographic as…well a porno. as you came, peter was smiling the whole time.

peter twitched inside of you and that’s when you knew he was close. you tangled your hands in his hair one last time and gave a single tug. that simple movement caused him to groan deeply and bring him to his release.

he doesn’t pull out quite yet. he just rests inside of you with his head on your chest. then after a few moments, he goes to get up.

“don’t leave,” you whisper and slide your hand through his locks again.

“it’s my place, baby, i’m not leaving,” he chuckles and slowly pulls out. you whimper at the loss of his cock, and at the feeling of being stretched out to the max.

“peter, i think you ruined me,” your voice cracked because it was hoarse and dry. you definitely needed some water now.

“good. are you thirsty now, sweetheart?”

—

tags: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #blurb #peter parker fan fics #peter parker au #peter parker fics #peter parker blurbs #requests #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fics #tom holland fan fics #tom holland c you #tom holland x reader

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elitadream · 8 months

Text

🎆 Sing for Absolution: behind the scenes 🎆

Hello everyone, and welcome to this summary on how the story was visually built! If you happen to come across this post and would like to read (or reread) the collab @drones-of-innocence and I have created together, just click on the title above and it will take you right to it! 🤗

With that said, let's begin! :D

As some of you already know, this was an idea that Drones had for a long time. It was brought up during one of our many conversations a few months ago, in which she briefly described the plot and sent me a condensed version. I- immediately and completely fell in love with the concept, so much so that I couldn't keep still. 😂💘 I practically begged Drones to let me draw a few frames for it, and she happily gave me permission. At first, what I intended to do was make about 3 or 4 thumbnails, like I had done with One Step Closer.

I returned with 22.

And from there, we both decided "Okay. Yeah. Let's make this official. 🙌💯" LOL

What's interesting here is that, as you can see, some frames didn't make it to the final cut! 🤓 And inversely, new frames were eventually added as the collab progressed. Out of all the sketches that were either abandoned or later deemed superfluous, my personal favorite would probably have to be this shot of Kamek. 😈

From the rough thumbnails I had presented, Drones helped me select the best and most eloquent ones, and I also changed a few other things along the way. For example, one panel that was entirely redone was frame 3 (where Mario enters Peach's room), because the initial composition didn't allow for the reader to see the setting very clearly, and I felt that the establishing shot needed to be wider.

Many of the drawings were also ultimately flipped to give the visuals a more coherent direction and better flow, including this one!

I decided pretty early on that the palette should be made of cold hues, seeing as these events happen to take place at night and that a warm overlay wouldn't adequately have conveyed the more ominous and solemn tone of the story in my opinion. 🤔💁‍♀️

Oh! And I almost forgot: using cold colors for the backgrounds and characters was also very convenient because it helped make the magical effects (the fire, the spells, etc- all the bright, warm and/or complementary nuances) really stand out, which resulted in a more interesting and visually striking contrast overall. 😌🎨

As I do with all my illustrations, I started by cleaning the sketches and adding a unifying background filler for all the frames. Then, I selected the colors I wanted to use (a gradient made of a mix of navy blue and purple) and worked on each drawing individually. Even with simple tones, we can observe the sheer difference that shading makes! 👀😉

There's a visual element that appears in the story and which I had borrowed from Drones before, and that would be Peach's healing magic.^^ ✨ I remember I was fascinated by the idea when I first discovered it in Un Fiore Per Te, which had prompted me to ask her if I could feature it in a piece where the Princess is seen using said power while at Mario's bedside in one of my other tangents. 💞

I kept the effect similar on purpose in Sing for Absolution, so that the slight reference would be easier to catch! 😊

And last but not least, there's that cheeky little Fire Flower! 🤭🔥

As mentioned in a previous ask, the flower actually signifies a lot in this case as it somewhat embodies the deeply affectionate bond between Mario and Peach, glowing brighter and closing its eyes in happiness when the two are close. 💖

While admittedly not the first drawing I made in which a Fire Flower appears, the one that actually inspired both Drones and I to include this symbolic power-up in the story was one that I made all the way back in February for Valentine's Day. 🥰 The subtle yet direct reference can be spotted twice in the text, linking this piece to the collab and establishing a bit of a chronology as well. I was very honored that Drones added this small detail, and I very much look forward to working on more ideas with her in the future! 😁🤝

Big thanks once again to all of you dear friends and followers who have commented and given their thoughts on this projects. Drones and I can't thank you guys enough for your interest and enthusiasm!! 😇💗

ALSO ALSO- I have shared here my visual side of the collab's progression, but Drones intends to give her own side of the story's development soon (explaining some of the themes and narrative elements a little more in depth), so make sure to stay tuned and check her blog as well! ^-^ 💫

#Mario #Princess Peach #Mario x Peach #Mareach #concept #story #collab #Sing for Absolution #fanart #fanfic #elitadream #drones-of-innocence #creators on Tumblr

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frudoo · 14 days

Text

Goddess — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Retired Johnny focuses on his art. His favorite muse? You, of course.

Warnings: Slightly smutty, very suggestive. Plus size reader (female). Body image issues mentioned. Shitty Scottish (PLEASE give me feedback, I wanna get better!!)

I’m not gonna lie y’all—I’m not too proud of this one. The idea was perfect in my head but my fingers did not want to write it </3

MDNI

A shudder escapes your pouty lips with every drag of his vaseline-coated fingers across your soft body. Johnny’s excuse is to tell you that your skin needs to be prepped before he can do anything, but that was ten minutes ago and he’s been massaging your breasts for five, now. Finally, he pulls his hands away after giving your nipples one more flick for good measure. He chuckles at the breathy whine you let out.

“So eager, bon’. Cannae even handle a bit o’ prep?” The cocky bastard teases, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose before turning around and grabbing the plaster bandages off of his desk.

This all started when you made the mistake of telling your beloved husband that you were feeling down. The demons had gotten louder the longer you stared in the mirror, and Johnny had walked in right as the first tear fell down your hot, puffy cheek. He let you cry in his arms, petting your hair and murmuring into your ear all of his favorite parts of you. Turned your tears of self-loathing into glistening proof of ecstasy with his face buried between your thighs, leaving no room for doubt about just how much he adores you. He told you his idea while you were curled into his side, slick with sweat and pleasantly fucked-out.

That’s how you ended up here: sitting on a stool in his workspace, naked and compliant (just how he likes you, he joked). The body cast, of course, was his idea of making you feel better about yourself—at least, that’s what he told you. The truth was that he’s utterly obsessed with you. The ring on your finger and the home you shared wasn’t enough for him. He wanted—needed—to be surrounded by you in any way, shape or form. No matter how many paintings or sketches or statues of you that littered the house, he wasn’t satisfied, always convincing you to sit all pretty for him so he could recreate the most beautiful work of art he could think of.

Johnny starts on your breasts, coming as no surprise to you. The plaster strips are cold and tacky against your flushed skin, and it makes you grimace. He takes his time molding the pliable medium to fit you perfectly, nimble fingers working restlessly to exact the curve of your perky nipples. He hums while he works, biting his tongue between his teeth in pure concentration, dismissing the whines and annoyed sighs you let out.

“Haud yer wheesht, bon’! Willnae take long. Lass loves eh attention,” he scolds, but the shit-eating grin on his face makes you huff louder.

“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you purse your lips, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your torso—his new favorite canvas.

“Ah jus’ want tae show ye tha’ yer body shuid be in a museum. Ah ken ye’re bonnie, but ye dinnae, so ah’m gunna prove t’ye wha’ a goddess ye’re.” Johnny explains softly, those sparkling blue eyes darting up to meet your impatient gaze.

Can’t really argue with that, can you? With a final sigh, you reluctantly relax your body, allowing the artist to more accurately place the plaster strips onto your lubricated skin. He rewards your cooperation with a tender kiss to your lips and a warm smile. His calloused hands smooth out the bandages over the soft rolls on your waist and tummy, making sure every single detail of your perfect form is immortalized. If you yourself can’t live forever, he’s determined to make sure people are able to admire you for centuries to come.

Once Johnny’s satisfied with the sticky mess he made on your plush body (for once, it’s actually a PG-rated mess), he steps back to admire his handiwork with a pleased hum. His eyes scan over your body in appreciation before he turns and washes his hands, drying them off with a rag. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, he tells you corny jokes (that he most definitely stole from Simon Riley himself) to keep you distracted from the discomfort of drying plaster on your skin. Once it’s set, he tells you to take a deep breath so he can pry off the cast—you’re secretly thankful that he spent so much time putting vaseline all over you because pulling it off was already a task.

With a gross pull of your skin and then a soft squelching noise, the artwork is off of your body. Johnny smiles giddily, happy with how perfect and detailed it turned out. He sets it carefully on his desk to let it dry more on the inside. Much to your relief, he allows you off of the stool and guides you into the washroom where he runs you a nice bath. He insists on cleaning your body, gushing about how beautiful and perfect you are for him—and then he fingers you silly as a reward, making sure the bathwater is deliciously murky with your spend before draining it. He dries you off with tender hands, pressing doting kisses all over your face just because he can. And once he’s got you in bed, all sleepy and warm, he climbs in beside you and whispers into your ear:

“Gunna make a cast o’ yer gorgeous cunt next, aye?”

#BIG BELLIES ARE BEAUTIFUL!!!!#johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #soap x plus size reader #johnny mactavish x plus size reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #plus size reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish

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atomicwrite · 1 year

Text

🎀 [NSFW] F!Reader x Shadow the Hedgehog

This is a request I received on Wattpad long ago ;; ♡

♡

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Req.: F!Reader x Shadow the Hedgehog - what if he has some alone time with you?

Reader is always Mobian and 18+!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

English is not my first language, I apologize for improper grammar and mistakes! ;v;

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

⚠ Warnings: NSFW; suggestive content

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

(Small note: reader is a cartographer for missions!)

You were sitting at your desk, your working room was dimly lit from the lantern you had hanging up behind you, drawing a map for a new mission you all will attend to while thoroughly examining the sketch snippets Rouge gave you.

With all your attention being drawn to that tiny piece of paper between your two fingers, you clearly didn't notice how someone entered the room, obviously careful not to make any noises to startle you.

You let out a soft sigh, putting the feather tip back into the tiny ink pot next to your map and awarded yourself with a nice little stretch.

"What are you doing?" You heard, felt, someone say, as they clearly brushed against the fluff of your ear.

Almost immediately, you flinched and let out a tiny gasp, your cold hands covering your ears as (e/c) orbs finally wandered up to meet crimson ones.

You continued to look into Shadow's eyes, almost as if they pull you into an infinite trance.

"N-nothing important..."

He noticed your embarrassment and chuckled slightly,

"Oh? You have such sensitive ears? I apologize, I", Shadow smirked and took ahold of one of your hand to uncover your ear and leaned down to whisper, "did not know. Not at all."

Initially, he came here to inform you about the mission, but now that you were looking at him with such an adorable and innocent expression, he couldn't resist to tease and play with you a little more.

Without a warning, his other hand slowly reached up to touch your delicate tail, gently rubbing it between his gloved fingertips.

"Sha-Shadow..."

You shivered in pleasure as you felt his warm fingers running on the tip of your tail before he stopped there and looked back at you,

"Cute. The noises you make... they sound so inappropriate."

Your face flushed red, whimpering as he began to trail his fingers down your tail, and, to your surprise, stopped right above your most sensitive spot. He gave your tail a gentle squeeze, eliciting a low moan from your lips which only made him grin.

You suddenly felt so small and devoted to him, as if you were no longer in control of anything anymore. As if he knew what you wanted better than you do.

It was a very intoxicating feeling, and it made you blush like crazy.

You didn't really mind, though.

"Hmhm~" He hummed, his thumb caressing over that very same spot before traveling lower, touching along your tailbone.

It was hard to think straight as your mind was clouded with an unknown feeling, one you've never encountered in this world or the last. It was like a warm fire burning inside you, spreading across your body like magic.

"Can't wait to hear what other cute noises you make."

His strong hands took ahold of your waist, pulling you up so he could make you sit down on the desk.

Shadow leaned down even more and took the side of your ear between both his lips, sucking on it gently before teasingly nibbling on it.

Your body felt like it was going numb from the sudden rush of pleasure you experienced in the matter of seconds, not even able to move or react as he started kissing your neck, making you moan softly as his lips trailed further down your throat until he reached your collarbone. His hands slowly lifted up your dress/shirt as he kept planting kisses on your sensitive skin/fur.

He moved on after that, kissing his way down your chest, leaving hot kisses down your stomach as you shivered from the strange sensation of his tongue running across your belly, causing you to breathe heavily, your eyes closed tightly.

It wasn't long before he finally reached your thigh, his soft kiss making you grip onto your desk as he continued to tease you.

"Mmhm..." He moaned and nipped lightly at your inner thigh, "So, I'm guessing this is where you get off."

You gasped and stuttered, unable to form words.

Shadow chuckled huskily, continuing his assault on your thighs, "You're so very cute when you blush. You should probably stop that though, because it's really distracting me."

He looked up at you as he pressed a finger inside you, letting out a pleased hum as he added another one, fucking you slow but deep with his fingers.

"H-How many fingers do you have...?" You managed to mumble through your pants, only to feel him chuckle again, "Just three. And judging by how good you are taking them, I'd say you love having my fingers inside you."

"Y-Yes..." You breathed, feeling his thumb run along your clit, causing you to shudder.

He kept going, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and then pulling them out before repeating the process over and over again, faster each time he went in and faster every time he pulled away until he finally gave you a few hard thrusts, burying his face into your mound and licking at your sensitive bud.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers made you lose your mind, moaning a little louder and shaking uncontrollably as he continued to play with you.

"Ah! Ah! Mmhmm...!" You shyly cried out, your hips buckling as you came, panting heavily as Shadow rubbed your clit with his thumb, making you tighten around his fingers.

Everything was so embarrassing and exciting at once, but at the same time, he seemed so calm and determined, as if nothing could stop him from getting his way. And somehow, he had this aura about himself that just made you want to obey him without hesitation.

When Shadow suddenly yanked his fingers out, making you whimper, you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face.

"I think I'll call this one 'the bingo'."

He said, standing up and walking towards the door,

"We're going to be late if we don't leave now."

His voice was stern and firm, but there was still a hint of playful curiosity in his tone. His gaze told you everything, and you knew he would be having fun with you for the rest of the day.

After he walked out of the room, you sit there, completely drained from the intense orgasm he just brought upon you.

#This is smut #shadow the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader

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abyssruler · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS ON 3K!!! May i ask albedo + normal au + soulmate + fluff? I don't have any other ideas so plot is up to you! I'll be happy with whatever you write 🫶🫶

of inks and six toes

albedo x gn!reader

in a world where anything you write on your skin appears on your soulmate’s skin, albedo finds that much unlike his initial expectations, he does have a soulmate, and one that he’s surprised to admit he genuinely enjoys conversing with.

soulmate au, comedy, fluff, written for my 3k event!

Albedo learns how to pen words on his skin long before he learns how to write them on paper.

His master has always encouraged this little habit. Notes, reminders, and quick calculations done on the smooth skin of his arm, hands, and on the days where he’s covered in warm clothing from head to toe, his cheeks.

He’s always been curious, always one to voice out questions—this, too, is a habit his master encourages—but he’s never thought to ask why he must write more on his skin than on paper. It was simply a way of life. You sit on a chair, you drink on a cup, you bend the laws of physics using the forbidden art of khemia, and you write inconsequential things to your skin.

Must check test tube #32 on 06:45 and observe any difference, he writes to the inside of his wrist.

With every year that passes, his master becomes more and more displeased with him, claiming his lack of progress, but Albedo doesn’t understand. He’s been doing exceptionally well, excelling in his studies and furthering his knowledge with research, he’s even acquired the small hobby of sketching. He doesn’t understand which aspect he’s lacking in.

It isn’t until years later, when his master deems him mature enough to accompany her in one of her supply trips in a nearby town, that he learns about soulmates. And only five months after that trip does he finally understand what his master meant by progress.

There, written near an absentminded reminder by the inside of his wrist, is a shaky scrawl akin to that of a child’s.

Wat deos experiment meen?

✧

Albedo learns a lot of things within the span of a few months after his soulmate finally responds to him.

The first being that his master seems to be more satisfied with him lately. After the initial shock of the revelation that a synthetic human such as himself would even possess a soulmate, he hurried to show his master the scribbles you made on his wrist. Her threats of leaving him should he fail a certain task has also lessened, almost to a nonexistent degree. Perhaps having a soulmate is the greatest proof of life an artificial person like him could have.

The second is that he never knew talking to someone would be something he would find himself looking forward to everyday. To form relations such as friendship and actively put in the effort to maintain it were not things he anticipated to be this enjoyable. Or perhaps it’s because the person he’s speaking to—rather, writing to, is you, his soulmate.

And lastly, within the first few minutes of conversing with you, Albedo discovers that you are young. Incredibly so, in fact.

…Not that he’s in any position to call anyone young, being that he’s barely a decade old despite looking like a young man already. He supposes he should be thankful to have been born with fully functional limbs and motor skills, his master isn’t exactly the best caretaker for a child, much less a good parental figure (never mind that he already thinks of her as his mother).

hau old ar yu?

How old are you, he corrects, all while mentally calculating exactly how old he is. His master would know down to the very last second, but he can’t bother her with something as mundane as this. Truthfully, the first few years of his life were spent learning as much as he could about the world and alchemy, such that he never took much note of his age until he learned the concept of birthdays. He thinks his master celebrated him being a decade old about a month ago—and by celebrate he means she let him sketch as much as he liked and gave him a break on his studies.

He estimates that he is about ten. Probably.

So that’s what he answers to his soulmate, he does you the favor of writing it in numerical form to make it easier to read.

wow yur old! The words come alive on the back of his hand slowly, each letter uneven and some even written backwards.

You’re, he corrects, more out of habit than any real desire to teach you proper grammar, and 10 isn’t that old. Once you get older, you’ll find that 10 is considered quite young.

It takes you a while to respond, and within that time frame, Albedo finishes transferring a heated whooperflower extract into a test tube. It’s an exercise in patience, and thankfully he has plenty of it. He regrets not using easier words for you to understand, but erasing the ink on his hand and writing new ones will probably confuse you more than you already are.

okey! papa sed im 5 yeers old, turneeng 6 tomorow

You must be very smart to be able to read and write already at that age. I’ll make sure to wish you a happy birthday tomorrow, he replies.

It takes another few minutes for you to write back. but you’re smarter then me so wen did you read and write?

Albedo lets himself feel the slightest hint of pride at how you spelled ‘you’re’ correctly this time around. You’re a quick learner.

I learned before I turned a year old, but please don’t tell anyone. Not that anyone would believe you if you said your soulmate learned how to read and write (and transmigrate a small branch into a flower) before he was one, but better to be safe than sorry.

oohh is this wat mama cals a secret?

Yes, it is, and I would be very happy if you kept it.

okey! i wont tel enywon! :)

Thank you.

He spends the next few minutes making light conversation with you, occasionally correcting your spelling and explaining any concept you seem confused about—until his master berates him for neglecting his work, and he has to bid you a hasty goodbye and apology. You’re quick to understand his circumstances, even as young as you are, only writing a goodbye next to his with a small, misshapen heart that he strangely finds adorable.

The next day, right as the clock turned to 00:00, he writes Happy Birthday on each side of his cheek. His master raises a brow when she sees it, but the excited little drawings you write on your wrist more than makes up for the humiliation.

✧

Tomorrow is my first day of school!

Your grammar and spelling have improved drastically within the span of a year. Albedo deduces you’ll be outdoing your peers in class. Not that he’s the best judge for how a child would normally develop mentally, but from what he’s read, you’re clearly very advanced.

Good luck.

Thanks! I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow :D

I look forward to it, and he finds that he does indeed look forward to it.

✧

Hey soulmate what nation are you from?

You’ve developed the habit of calling him that due to his lack of interest in sharing his name.

Aren’t you in class right now?

Yeah but it’s boring :( tell me more about alchemy

You said yesterday that you find alchemy boring as well, he points out.

But alchemy’s the less boring subject

You should still pay attention in class.

Poopy head. Oh no the teacher is look———

✧

Who is Mondstadt’s god?

The Anemo Archon, though if we’re referring to his name, it’d be Barbatos.

What’s the name of Sneshneya’s capital?

Snezhnaya, he corrects, and it’s Zapolyarny.

And many more such questions, most of them only needing the most basics of knowledge.

Albedo answers them all dutifully, wondering whether this is a test to see how knowledgable he is regarding Teyvat. His master would not be pleased to see him idling about, doing nothing as he waits for his soulmate to write back to him instead of spending his time doing research.

Wow! I’m the only one who scored perfectly on the test!

His eyebrows rise, an idea forming in his mind at the same time as amusement.

A test? he writes back.

Yeah, for my school! You’re so smart! Thank you, soulmate ♡

Something swells in his chest. Warm and pleasant that leaves in him a sense of satisfaction he might akin to the feeling he gets after a successful experiment, or that of the heat that settles in his stomach after a hearty meal during a cold, winter day.

Fondness, he decides, it is fondness.

You’re most welcome. Although next time it would be better to consult me while you’re studying so you would not have to resort to cheating.

Hey! It’s not cheating, it’s called using the resources you have to your advantage.

He has to stifle a smile at how clever you’ve become. Though not clever enough to answer your own tests, it seems.

Using my words against me?

Of course, I learned from the best!

Learned…

To be able to impart knowledge upon others, it is something he had not thought possible until recent years, not with how isolated he is and his only human contact being his master. It is amongst many other less shallow reasons that he is glad to have met you.

To be able to influence others by teaching them what he knows. It is a wishful thought, but he thinks he’d like to do such a thing in the future.

✧

Aunt Alice just gave birth to a baby girl! Her name’s Klee and she’s so fat, are all babies this fat?

Albedo spends a long time staring at his wrist before managing to snap himself out of his haze.

He doesn’t believe in coincidences, but what are the odds that this Alice you were speaking of is the same Alice who just sent a letter to his master the other day about how she finally spawned a daughter. If they so happen to be the same person, then fate truly has a strange sense of humor, though perhaps he should have known that from the moment fate decided a homunculus should have a soulmate.

Yes, he finally responds, a little plumpness isn’t considered fat; in fact, it’s often a sign of healthiness. Also, please don’t call the baby fat right to her mother’s face.

Too late! Aunt Alice just laughed and agreed with me. Isn’t she the best?

He shakes his head in amusement and distantly notes how your Aunt Alice’s personality seems to align with his master’s friend.

✧

I’m joining the Knights of Favonius.

He blinks at the sight that greets him first thing in the morning.

Ah. Well, he supposes this finally confirms all his suspicions of you hailing from Mondstadt.

The clues were there, practically spoon-fed to him, from the innocuous mentions of a certain flower or the structure of a building you found ridiculous, but he didn’t want to form a solid conclusion until you confirmed it yourself.

Is there a particular reason for this decision?

I just feel a bit inadequate. I’m already fifteen but one of my friends has been a captain at the Knights since last year. I’m stuck here stagnating while the rest of my peers move on.

Albedo isn’t the best at comforting people. Years of isolation and limited contact have made socialization one of the fields he doesn’t excel at. He can be a bit tactless, as you once said. He’ll try though, for you.

You don’t need to conform to other people’s standards. Each person moves at their own pace. You needn’t pressure yourself by placing such high expectations on your shoulders. He ponders more on what he could say, until a thought occurs so he adds, With that said, do you want to join the Knights of Favonius or are you merely joining because you feel that you have to?

It takes you a good few minutes to write back. He patiently waits for you to compose an answer, abandoning the on-going experiment he has on the workbench in favor of investing his full attention to you.

Yeah, I think I do want to. Not just because I think I should, but I really want to join.

Then I wish you luck on your future endeavors.

He was about to turn back to his neglected experiment when he sees ink forming on his inner wrist.

And soulmate? you write, your handwriting shaky in a way he hasn’t seen since you were young.

Worried, he hastily scribbles, Yes?

I think I Thank you :)

✧

What should we say to each other if we ever meet in person?

Would you mind elaborating?

I dunno, cause I like to think I’d recognize your handwriting anywhere—and it better be the same case with you! So maybe we should have a secret phrase between us to identify each other.

I’m not very imaginative when it comes to these things. How about you think of a phrase?

Okay! How about this: Barbatos has six toes.

Pardon?

No one in Mond would ever think to say such a thing, which means no one would ever say it out of the blue and confuse us. It’s perfect!

Ah, I see. Alright, if that’s what you wish.

See this is why I lo you’re my favorite person ever :D

✧

Congratulations on being promoted to captain.

Thanks!! Only took about three years, of course, but totally worth the time and effort! I can finally boss people around :)

Please don’t.

No promises!

✧

I got a vision!

That’s a sign of acknowledgement from the gods, or so they say. Would you like me to congratulate you?

No need for that. Just try and guess which element I got!

Pyro.

How’d you guess so quickly?!

The element suits you. Passionate and driven, it was only a matter of time before you were given one.

I really heh who knew you thought so highly of me?

Who wouldn’t?

✧

I’m going to be busy for the next few days traveling.

Okay stay safe!

My master has entrusted me with a heavy task. This is the first time I

You’re going to do great. You’re the smartest and most capable person I know, soulmate!

Thank you.

✧

“So, this new guy, he’s an alchemist?”

“Yes, and apparently a very good one,” Jean answers your question, walking with you side by side as you make your way to the entrance of the Favonius Headquarters to meet this ‘Albedo’ fellow. Well, more like Jean’s on her way to meet him while you’re on your way home.

“Huh. Reminds me of someone I know,” you muse.

She looks at you with amusement. “You mean your soulmate?”

You laugh sheepishly. “I never shut up about him, do I?”

“That’s an exaggeration, I’d say you’re just very in love with him.”

“What?!” you screech, whipping your head towards her.

Jean laughs into her hand. “You’re not fooling anyone with how excited you get whenever he writes back to you.”

“I-I mean,” you deflate in defeat. “I guess it is kinda obvious…” you sigh, only to straighten when you reach the massive doors of the entrance of the Headquarters.

There’s a person with ash blond hair standing right by its awning, looking over something in a clipboard. He turns at the sound of your approaching footsteps. Your eyes meet, and within that brief moment of contact, it feels like you’ve known this stranger your entire life.

Jean greets him. He nods his head at her and introduces himself. She then turns to you, “I’m assigning you to be his guide for the next few days. Be kind, alright?”

Your jaw drops. “Wha—why me?”

“Because you’re the closest available captain in the area,” she answers with an uncharacteristically sly smile. Oh, you lament, she really needs to spend less time with Lisa.

“Fine, but I can’t do it today. I promised Klee we’d go exploring this afternoon,” you concede.

“It’s settled then!” Jean claps her hand before giving the two of you an encouraging smile and leaving briskly. What a busy lady…

You then turn to Albedo who’s been silently watching your interaction, and you find him looking at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t quite discern. Shaking off his strange behavior, you pull out a pen and offer your hand to him. He looks at it curiously before placing his hand into your palm.

“May I ask what this is for?”

You uncap the pen. “Just gonna write down the time I’m free tomorrow, y’know, so you don’t forget.”

“I see.”

Writing on the palm of his hand almost feels wrong. Somehow. A strange feeling you can’t quite place.

It’s probably the spoiled milk you drank earlier.

“And there! Now that’s done, I just need to…” you trail off, seeing a blot of ink in the palm of your hand.

Excitement fills you. Abandoning your new acquaintance in favor of putting all your attention to the new words in your palm, you don’t notice the look of realization that crosses Albedo’s face once he sees what you’ve written on his hand.

1:30PM, Tuesday on the…

Your mind blanks.

You don’t read much beyond that.

This.

This is your handwriting.

But you didn’t write this on your hand, you wrote this on—

Turning a shocked look to Albedo, who if your suspicions are correct, is your soulmate, you find him looking at you with that same wide-eyed look mirrored in your face.

After a few moments of staring, something seems to occur to him.

“Oh, right,” he suddenly speaks up.

He grabs your hand—the same one that has your free time tomorrow written on it—and looks at you with such seriousness, you couldn’t have possibly hoped to predict what he was about to say next.

“Barbatos has six toes,” Albedo says with a straight face before furrowing his brows in question. “That’s our phrase, isn’t it?”

Finding your soulmate unexpectedly, finally getting to hold his hand after fantasizing about it for so long, and him saying those damned words you’d meant as a joke all those years ago.

You can’t help it anymore.

You burst out laughing.

3k word count

#3k event #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz x reader #gn reader #soulmate au

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sdv-roseglass-farm · 10 months

Text

Sebastian x Tattoo Artist!Reader

This was requested by @dexpairs-blog :) Sorry it took so long, I have been busy with university, hope you enjoy it!

Sebastian had heard about the farmers cousin moving to the town a month ago - and had seen them around briefly. However, due to him working on a large project, he hadn't really talked to them much.

It wasn't until he had overheard Willy telling Gus about his new tattoo that he got from you that his interest was piqued.

His mind drifted towards you often, especially with different designs he could get.

He has always wanted to get tattoos, but never really got round to it.

One day, when the farmer was visiting Robin he casually ask about you, asking if you retired from being a tattoo artist or currently one.

When getting confirmation he would gather up the courage to ask you when seeing you in the saloon.

He would be flustered the whole time, having rehearsed how he was going to ask you since he decided he was going to look into getting the tattoos more seriously.

But finally standing in front of you, he noticed just how beautiful you truly are. With the warm light of the saloon causing you eyes to shine like stars.

He forced himself to look away, stumbling over his question but losing focus on how you are looking at him.

With being informed of your interest in getting a tattoo though, you organise for him to visit you the next day.

He spent the whole night panicking, unable to sleep and overthinking the interaction and how it would go.

When he went over the next day, he was shown some of your artwork, with you explaining how you used to have a studio in Zuzu city but it was closed down due to the owner wanting to sell it.

He fell in love with your pieces the more he looked at them, with the attention to detail and the passion you had for each one causing him to be unable to stop looking at you.

He decided his first tattoo should be a wizard staff from Solarian Chronicles, and he quickly lost track of time during the appointment as he watched you work and spent the whole time talking, even with him struggling to respond at times (socially awkward Sebastian)

He went back quite a few times, with planning more and more tattoos, loving how much care you had and the time you spent together.

After a little while he would start visiting to see and hear you ramble about some other clients and their tattoos, looking at your draft sketches and letting you talk through them as you try and decide on a few ideas to send to the client.

He would get sleeve tattoos, with letting you have free reign on ideas, knowing he would love anything you design.

When you two finally got together, not much would change - though you would allow him to give you a tattoo.

If you got married and had children, he would get their names tattooed on him over his heart, alongside something important that reminds him of you. These would be his favourite, alongside the wooden carving on his right leg that was of a carving Robin made him when he was a child.

Robin 100% cried when seeing that tattoo, because while they are not close - he does still love her a lot

After he moved out as well, he would get a small tattoo somewhere of something that reminded him of Maru, though he doesn't really tell anyone about it out of embarrassment and awkwardness.

#stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #sdv #sdv fanfic #sebastian sdv #stardew valley sebastian #stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley imagines #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley headcannons #sdv fanfiction

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rosalynesimp · 11 months

Text

Special day.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Fluff, flirty, smut, pet names

Summary: Alcina brings you a special gift for your special day.

Word count: 2664

Notes: I apologies for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language :’) Hope you enjoy it anyways <3

It’s been about a year since you made it to castle Dimitrescu and stayed here as a personal maid of Lady Dimitrescu herself. She always said that you were the best maid she ever had and it surely flattered you. Alcina did her best to encouraged you every week, maybe even twice a week if she got time. Usually you just stayed over her Chamber for the night and spent time with her as you talked and cuddled.

You noticed her flirting with you few months ago. It was nothing special but she definitely hinted you that you’re the one she needs the most. You found it a bit weird since Dimitrescu never let anyone stay close to her, except for her daughters.

Not to mention, they were quiet annoying while they buzzed around the castle and woke you up every single day at 5am. Including today. You sigh, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you stretch out your body before sitting on the bed and looking around. Not to mention, Alcina gave you the personal room with single bed that was quiet enough for two people.

You walks over the common bathroom, washing your face quickly before getting dressed. You loved the smell of fresh cleaned uniform and you smile slightly, looking over yourself in the tiny mirror. You ties your hair up in a ponytail, finally walking off to the hall. It is so quiet. Other maids usually wake up at around 6am to do cleaning around the castle and cook the breakfast for the Lady.

“Mother calls you.”

Bela says from behind your ear, making you squeak. You didn’t expect her to show up. She laughs at you along with two other sisters before they disappear.

Lady Dimitrescu isn’t asleep? You frown slightly as you walk down the hall, reaching her Chamber. You knock twice, hearing quiet “come” from behind the door. You walk in and stay in the door frame, waiting for Lady’s next move.

“Oh, it’s you, dear. Come over, don’t be shy.” She says in a sweet tone.

You do as she said and walk closer to her, still keeping the distance between you two. She sits at her vanity, brushing her dark hair, holding the pin between her teeth.

“Why are you awake so early, Mistress?”

You ask quietly as you look at Alcina through the mirror and she smiles slightly at you.

“You don’t ask silly questions, do you, pet?”

She chuckles as she turns around to face you.

“Mommy’s got plenty of work to do today.”

You nod, your cheeks turn bright red.

“You need anything, ma’am?”

You ask Alcina quietly and hear another soft chuckle.

“Be here at around 9pm, please.”

“Wh-“

“Now go work, dear. Enough talking.”

Dimitrescu cuts you off and gives you a sweet smile, before turning around to face herself in the mirror again.

You nod, whispering “yes, Mistress” before heading off to the hall to get your job done. What is she planning?

*****

Alcina flickers before your eyes the whole day. She knows you are watching and makes sure you see her every hour or two, giving you soft smiles every time she walks past you. It got quiet annoying in the middle of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about her request for you.

You finish your work at about 5pm and got plenty of time for yourself. After a warm shower you walk to your room, shutting it closed as you don’t want to see any of other maid. All of them are quiet talkative and love to drink tea after getting their jobs done. So do you but you are not in a mood today.

You take your sketch album and a tiny piece of a pencil that has left, thinking where to get a new one later, before you start sketching. You have no thoughts in your mind who you want to draw this time so you let your fantasies take a control.

You always loved to draw, since you were a child, but never had enough time for that. As soon as you got at castle Dimitrescu you found out that you can spend your evenings however you prefer. The only rule was to stay as quiet as possible in case not to disturb the Lady.

Of course, Lady Dimitrescu noticed you sketching as you sat under the stairs quietly. The next day she gave you a sketch book and a pencil so you could draw comfortably without using a piece of coal.

Since then you tired your best to draw every time you’ve got a free minute. You look down at the page, noticing the woman you drew looks exactly like the Lady and you blush, close the sketch book and hide it under your pillow. How come that you drew her by memory?

The answer was on a surface: you knew every inch of Alcina’s face. You found her really beautiful and elegant and you couldn’t get her out of your mind.

You sigh, laying down on the bed, closing your eyes. Two hours left till your meeting with Lady Dimitrescu so you decide to take a quick nap before you head to her.

*****

“Come in.”

You hear the strict tone as you knock on the door and walk in, closing the door behind you. Lady Dimitrescu isn’t dressed as usual. She has a black long dress that exposes her curves. The dress is sleeveless and also has a long cut on the side, showing off her silky pale leg.

“Mind helping me, dear?”

She asks quietly, patting her shoulders as she put her hair away from her neck.

“Oh… Sure.”

You quickly walk over to her, helping her to hook up her necklace.

“Ah, thank you, little mouse… I’ve been struggling with it for around five minutes and almost lost my mind.”

She smiles at you before turning around, placing her hands on her waist.

You smile at her, trying your best not to stare at her breasts that seem to be even bigger in this dress. You swallow hard and she notices it, letting out a low chuckle.

“Hm? Like the view, pet?” She smirks.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

You mumble, looking down at the floor.

“Come on now, dear. I’ve got something for you.”

She gets up from her vanity and walks off to the hall as you quietly followed her. You couldn’t help but stare at her swaying hips. Seems like she swayed them on propose. Soon enough you walk over the room that has always been locked. Alcina takes a key out of her tiny bag, unlocking it and letting you go in.

It is a quiet beautiful small room in reddish colors with golden candles all around it. There is nothing but a couch in the middle of the room and a comfortable chair in front of it with a tiny coffee table by its’ side. You frown slightly as you look over your shoulder at Alcina, who stays in the door frame with her arms crossed on her chest. Her lips curls into a sly smirk.

“What’s that for?”

You ask, sitting on a chair.

“Ah, dear… Think again, make your little brain work.” She chuckles.

You frown more, looking around once again, trying to get a tiny hint.

“Look at the table, pet. Does anything catch your eyes?”

She says as she walks around you, placing her hand on your shoulder.

You shiver under her touch and look at the small coffee table near the chair. Your eyes widened a bit as you notice a fresh sketch book and a pencil on it. You look up at Alcina, surprisingly, she is looking down at you the whole time with a smirk upon her lips.

“So…” She begins.

“Do you… want me to draw you?” you ask nervously.

“Correct, little mouse! Good job.”

She laughs, patting your back.

Alcina walks toward the couch, sitting on it in front of you, crossing her legs. She smirks once again, raising an eyebrow. She waits for your reply as she keeps staring directly into your eyes.

“Y/N?”

“Oh… I don’t kn-“

“Pretty please?”

She pouts.

“You don’t want to upset your Mistress, do you, pet?”

“Of course…” You nod.

She then gives you a big smile, placing her bag away before elegantly laying down on the couch, facing you.

You immediately get nervous as you never drew from nature but you don’t want to disappoint Lady Dimitrescu so you agree. You take a pencil and a sketch book, staring at Alcina for a while before you start to sketch the lines of her body. She stays quiet and patient for the next ten minutes before she sighs and looks at you.

“It’s quiet stuffy in here, isn’t it, little mouse?”

She slightly unbuttons the dress on her chest.

“It is…”

You nod at her but keep drawing.

Alcina smirks and lights up her cigarette, takes a long puff before the cloud of smoke floods around the small room. You smiles to yourself, noticing how she melts behind the smoke for a few seconds. You keep sketching her, paying attention to every detail of her body. She stays quiet and all you can hear is scratching sounds of your pencil against the paper.

It takes you an hour until the sketch is fully finished. Thankfully, Alcina was patient enough and just relaxed on the couch this whole time. You get up, walking across the room to show her the sketch and she sits, patting her lap, inviting you.

“Come sit with me, would you?”

She smiles and pulls you closer on her lap.

You blush but don’t hesitate, making yourself comfortable on her lap. Lady Dimitrescu is so close, you can feel the coldness of her body. She brushes your hair behind your ear before looking down at the sketchbook, noticing how detailed the sketch was. You look up at her and smile slightly.

“My…” Alcina begins.

“…How talented you are, my dear pet. You’re definitely the connoisseur of women’s bodies”

She teases.

“Oh… I… Thank you.”

You smile at her.

It isn’t the first time you both are so close but every time it feels like your first time and you blush like a kid nearly her. Lady Dimitrescu is obviously a charm and she knows that too well.

“Now…”

She gently puts you down on the floor as she gets up.

“…I’ve got something special for you, little mouse. As a reward…”

You can see her smirk widely as she walks closer to you and ties your eyes with a black strip of cloth. You shiver at her touch but nod. Alcina takes the sketchbook away from your trembling hands, puts it on the coffee table. All you can hear next is her heels clatter against the wooden floor and quiet rustling of her dress before she speaks again.

“You may take the strip off those pretty eyes of yours.” She says.

You do as she said, slowly take the strip off and open your eyes. You gasp as you see her sitting on the couch with her legs crossed but… the only thing she is wearing is her dark red lingerie that barely covers her intimate parts of the body. You feel your mouth becomes dried and your heart skip a beat. She looks so… stunning.

“Like what you see, little mouse?”

Alcina smiles as she walks over to you.

“Yes, Mistress…”

“Happy Birthday, dear.” She says quietly.

You look up at her, your eyes widen. It definitely isn’t your birthday today and, not to mention, you don’t even know when your actual birthday is. Dimitrescu chuckles as she notices you hesitate and answers your silent question.

“It’s been a year today since you’ve got to my castle, Y/N.” She says in a soft tone.

“Since we both are not aware when your birthday is I thought… It would be a great idea to celebrate it now.”

Alcina gives you a sly smirk.

“Oh… It’s not worth it. But thank you…” You mumble quietly.

“Are you upset, little mouse?”

She asks you softly, placing her hand on your shoulder as she speaks.

You shake your head and look up at her, feeling her grip of your shoulder. You moan softly, feeling your shoulders relaxing under her touch. Dimitrescu smirks and raises her eyebrow as she steps closer, placing her index finger under your chin, making you look into her eyes.

“Oh, dear… Careful with those sounds of yours.”

She lets out a soft chuckle before she leans down to you. Your lips are inches away from hers and you gasp but don’t pull away. You can notice the desire in Alcina’s golden eyes that sparkle even brighter when she looks at you.

“You’re trembling, Y/N…”

Dimitrescu murmurs, caressing your cheek with her fingers.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No, Mistress… Not at all.”

You shake your head slightly.

“I jus-“

She cuts you off by softly pressing her lips against yours. You gasp again at the sudden move, dropping the pencil on the floor. Alcina laughs, slightly pulling away to look into your eyes. She licks her lips, raising an eyebrow.

“You alright, dear?” She chuckles.

You nod, still feeling her moist lips on yours. Dimitrescu chuckles once again before gently picking you up, making you wrap your legs around her waist. She slightly kisses the pinkish cheek of yours, brushing her lips against your soft skin before she presses your lips together one more time. This time Alcina kisses you with more passionate, caressing your bottom lip with her tongue, asking for permission. You let out a quiet moan and open your mouth, letting her in. Your tongues dancing together as she holds you close against her body.

“M-mistress…”

You whimper.

She doesn’t say anything, sliding her hand up your thigh, gently squeezing it, making you moan once again. Oh, how she loves those sounds. Alcina smirks, gently nibbling at your neck.

You can feel the knot in your stomach, your panties become wet in a second and you know the vampire lady feels it well. You hold her shoulders, digging your nails into them as she licks your collarbones.

“It’s enough for today, Y/N.”

Alcina says, slowly pulling away from you.

“But! Mistress, I-“

“Enough. Don’t you dare to contradict my words, little mouse.”

She frowns as she gently places you back on the floor.

“My apologies…” You nod.

She grabs her dress, quickly putting it on. You glance over at her but Alcina is quiet and cold. Her sudden mood change takes you by surprise and you can’t say a word. You watch Alcina taking her bag and heading off toward the door.

“What are you waiting for, Y/N? A special invitation?”

She frowns.

You shake your head, taking the sketchbook and picking up the pencil from the floor before quickly escaping the room. Alcina shut the door closed and locks it in case anyone would like to sneak there.

You both walk quietly to your own rooms before Dimitrescu stops and places her hand on your shoulder. She kneels to your height and gently caresses your cheek with her thumb, slowly touching your bottom lip. Her actions make you blush and you look away but she makes you look back into her eyes.

“I’ve got work to do now, little mouse… But I’ll wait for you at my Chamber tomorrow. Be there by 9pm, got it?”

She almost whispers, smiling softly at you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You nod at her, squeezing the sketchbook in your hands.

“Good girl…”

Alcina smiles.

“…Sleep well, dear.”

With those words she leaves you alone in the hall and closes the door behind herself. You smile softly, heading off to your own room, quickly getting ready for sleep.

You can’t get Alcina off your mind… Her silhouette appears every time you close your eyes. But you don’t mind at all. With the thoughts of her you slowly drift off to sleep.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #re8 lady dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #alcina demitriscu #castle dimitrescu #fanfic #lady dimitrescu smut

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koalayoo · 6 months

Text

ᴀᴅᴍɪʀɪɴɢ ᴀʟʙᴇᴅᴏ

Found another piece of writing from 2021. Whoopsies part 2. I promise my writing has improved!! No warnings.

The two of you were sitting in a blissful silence. The cold air of Dragonspine brushing up against your body makes you shiver slightly but the fire near the two of you helped keep your body warm. The crackle of the fire was the only thing heard in the air besides the occasional hustle of the wind. Despite the harsh conditions of the mountain you two had found a sweet little spot down near the bottom of the mountain, keeping you partly covered from the cold wind. ‘You two’ referring to you and the blonde alchemist who managed to convince you once again to join him this afternoon to sketch the landscape.

You tried your best to not go. You really did! With excuses of being bad at drawing, that you couldn’t even draw a circle if you had to but that was swiftly shut down by him saying he had “faith in his ability to instruct and even more faith in your exceptional talents.” You just knew he was a secret sweet talker. That was a couple of months ago. Today was yet another day he “dragged” you with him to your spot although you didn’t miss the way he called it ‘our’ spot. For some reason the small change in wording caused a smile to take place on your face although Albedo paid it no mind.

Now here you two were, both standing behind a canvas as Albedo sketched away. Within these months and your frequent meetups, the alchemist taught you many tips and tricks on how to draw. Taking in the scenery around you once again, you couldn’t help but let your eyes latch onto the male in front of you every time you looked away from your canvas. Your hand moving on its own, attempting to draw the curves of his face. Your hand trying to replicate his soft features. His pale skin almost looked like the surface of the land you were on. His blond hair is slightly unkempt yet still looking effortlessly beautiful on him. Ugh, and don’t get started on those oh so enchanting blue eyes of his focused on the work in front of him before turning and locking his gaze with yours. His lips raised up in a gentle smile before looking back down.

What…?

Your eyes darted back onto your canvas.

Your chest feels weird. Almost suffocating. As if your heart were about to explode. The fast beats of your heart made you jitter. A sudden heat rushed up to your face and you suddenly weren’t freezing anymore.

What was happening?

You glanced up from the canvas that was hiding your frame and caught sight of the alchemist again. Your eyes looked away just as soon as they landed on him. Was he always so beautiful?

Your eyes then caught sight of your canvas… the one you attempted to draw Albedo on. Chuckling nervously you took your canvas off the easel. The blue eyed boy in front looked at you confused. You had only just got here, you were taking off again so soon?

Before he could even question what you were doing, you cut him off saying you felt a little unwell all while clutching the canvas in front of you. Holding it so close you could feel your fingers digging into it. Sure maybe if he saw it he wouldn’t take it so seriously but to you this was physical proof of what your admiration of the man turned into. Proof that he could occupy your mind, make you think about him in a way more than admiration. Proof that your trivial little feelings could fester into something bigger, something you knew would never get reciprocated, something you knew would never happen.

Giving him a smile you turned around and quickly walked away, desperate to get out of the cold, windy environment that had turned suffocating. The breeze that was caressing you not too long ago was now choking you, making you feel an uncomfortable lump in your throat.

If only you knew that on Albedo’s canvas was you.

Not sure if I like this one but wanted to share it anyways. Like, reblog and follow if you'd like <3 Support is always appreciated pookie.

#albedo x reader #albedo #albedo genshin impact #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x you #albedo fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #koalayoo

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good-0m3nss · 7 months

Text

Café Crushes

Summary: You and Aziraphale got to the same café every Saturday. But lately he's been talking and looking at you more then normal.

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Aziraphale was on his way to the little Café that was just across the road from his bookshop. He loved to go there each Saturday, only because you were there. You always had your headphones in and drawing something. You were so peaceful looking in Aziraphale' eyes. The angel fixed his coat and then his brown bow tie before walking in. The small bell dinged and Aziraphale went to the spot he normally does, which is just a seat away from you. "Hello, what may you like today?" The waiter asks Aziraphale. "A hot chocolate and.. Two cookies." Aziraphale smiles. The waiter nods and walks away. Today was the day. Aziraphale was going to make his move and ask you out.

You on the other hand had just broken up with your partner that day. You were very upset about it too, you had given them everything. Love, affection, and even gifts that costed a fortune. Your eyes were red and slightly puffy with the hot tears that streamed out just an hour ago. You sipped your (favorite drink) while sketching a drawing of a certain angel. You didn't know he was an angel though, but that's fine. You added a few hearts around his face and turned up your music. The sight of orange and brown leaves outside on the roads, the smell of pumpkin everywhere you go, relaxed you. Aziraphale on the other hand disliked it. He preferred the beautiful white blanket of cold ice that covered the ground in December and the smell of mint and pine. You were so invested on.. Well, everything that was going on in your head, the smells and sights, that you didn't notice Aziraphale sitting in front of you. You felt a soft tap on your arm. You look up to see an smiling Aziraphale, who has some chocolate on the side of his mouth. You pause your music and take out your headphones. "Hello, I'm Aziraphale. You're y/n, correct?" He asks. His soft english accent was so warm. He had some brown dress shoes on, a cream colored coat, a brown bow tie, and some cream colored trousers that matched the coat. He had a certain aesthetic to him which made you feel.. Slightly happy and calm. You rather enjoyed it. "Yes, I am." You respond.

Your voice was like the first ever copy of a book to Aziraphale. It was lovely. He glass down at your sketchpad and noticed himself on it. You're very good at drawing." He smiles at you. "You've.. You've got chocolate on your mouth." You say. You point towards the side of his mouth. "Oh.. How embarrassing of me.." Aziraphale mumbles, grabbing a napkin and dabbing the chocolate off. "Thank you for announcing it to me. I appreciate it." Aziraphale says. "No problem. You're english, correct?" You ask. "Oh, yes, I am." Aziraphale smiles. He offers you cookie. "Oh, thank you." You say, grabbing the cookie. Your hand and Aziraphales hand touched. You both look at each other and blush.

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#xreader #michael sheen #aziraphale #good omens #cafe aesthetic #cafe #aziraphale x reader #sfw

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

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The Fire In Your Eyes

part VI: horseshoe overlook ii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 13.3k

summary: you, Arthur, and Hosea find some important horses on your trek to a hunt gone-wrong. Away from camp, Arthur opens up, letting you peek through his point of view to his heart-breaking past. Dutch asks for your help.

a/n: chapter six! Arthur and reader find their heart horses, there's a lot of hurt/comfort too which we love. Oh and I spoiled a plot point to Jane Eyre, so sorry if you were planning to read it, but also it was published 176 years ago so maybe get onto that. Also the tuberculosis in Jane Eyre was just a coincidence, so don't fret. I plan on keeping Arthur tb free. Lastly, there is some good ol' fashioned 'talking about our feelings' in this chapter. We are opening up and talking about trauma, yay! BTW, series hit 50k this chapter! Anyway! Enjoy

warnings: animal abuse (seeing a horse that has been abused), mentions of former child abuse, mentions of infertility, all are described briefly, nothing graphic.

SERIES MASTERPOST

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo10300 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup

Arthur’s supposed to be on watch, and you’re supposed to be doing laundry. But he’s tired of staring at trees and you’re sick of cleaning beer and stew out of Uncle’s long johns, so here you are.

Technically, Arthur hasn’t completely abandoned his task like you have. You’re both sitting on a decent sized boulder, the one he always sits on during his guard shift, just off the trail into Horseshoe. But his eyes are not focused on the trees, instead they fixate on his journal, where he is sketching something on the ivory pages. You’re all too curious, again, about what he’s drawing, but he's positioned in a manner so the contents remain hidden from your nosey gaze. He hasn’t missed the way you subtly lean every once in a while, peering down your nose to try and see the pages. Each time he notices, a small smile tugs on his lip, and he pulls the journal a little tighter towards himself. Arthur’s carbine rests between you two on the rock, next to a little bag of candies that he had picked up when you were in town a few days ago. Currently, your nose is in a book, but you haven’t been reading it for a few moments, instead peeking over the pages at Arthur. It’s nice to get away from camp for a bit. The past few days you’ve spent doing house chores for Grimshaw. She was less than happy when you “Went to the saloon all day with the men” as she put it, those couple days ago. She made sure that you made up for the lost time, and you were stuck peeling potatoes for so long that your hands went numb.

It’s a beautiful day, the sun shines brightly, and a warm breeze passes through the camp. Birds chirp, singing their tunes as they build nests in the trees above your head. A few rabbits have passed by, even a fox, filling up on food before the storm hits, another reason you’re avoiding your chores. Charles had warned everyone that by the look of the clouds, a big storm was coming, probably tomorrow. You’ll be damned if you spent the last nice day staring at Pearson’s apron or a laundry bin.

You watch as Arthur moves his eyes from the journal to the bag of sweets, and he reaches into it, pulling out a yellow candy. With an almost unnoticeable frown, he drops it back into the paper bag, and pulls out a red one. He seems satisfied enough with this choice, and he brings the little treat to his lips. It’s been so long since you’ve had the pleasure of candy, and you’ve gone and eaten nearly half the bag. You haven’t had money for pleasantries in a long while, not since your momma died anyway.

“You don’t like the lemon ones?” You ask, reaching into the bag and pulling out the one he had dropped back inside. You pop it into your mouth, eyes slipping shut in bliss from the sweet, tart flavor of the candy. Arthur looks up at you for a quick moment, scanning over your face with a chuckle before trailing back down to his journal.

“Nah, I like 'em well enough, but I noticed they’re your favorite. Didn’t wanna take all the good ones from ya.”

You smile, grabbing another yellow candy from the bag just as you feel the remnants of the last one finish dissolving. You missed hard candies. They weren’t exactly high on your list of priorities before joining the gang. You put your book down, a piece Marybeth had let you borrow. You’ve read it a few times, and you already know exactly what the pages entail. However, you don’t know what the pages of Arthur’s journal look like.

“Whatcha drawin’?” You ask, criss crossing your legs on the boulder. Arthur huffs a laugh, having expected this question.

“Nothin’ much, just somethin’ little.” Arthur whispers. You’re confused as he leans down towards the grass, plucking a dooryard violet from a little patch of the wildflowers. So many of Arthur’s actions throw you for a loop. He’s so… dynamic, constantly showing you new sides to him that you would never expect.

He unsheathes his hunting knife, quickly snipping the stem of the flower off. Now what really throws you off is when Arthur leans over, concentrated, and tucks the flower behind your ear. He adjusts your hair accordingly.

“There,” He whispers, settling back into his former position to admire you. “Purple looks good on you, well except when it's your cheek that's purple but-” Arthur jokes, nodding to your bruised cheek, and you laugh, shoving him a bit.

“I was just about to say that you’re goin’ soft, but now you’re makin’ fun of me. I guess things are back to normal.”

Arthur’s face turns to mock hurt, as he squints at you.

“I ain’t goin’ soft.” He chides.

You placate him, putting your hands up.

“Alright, whatever you say, Mister.”

With a smile, you pick your book back up. Arthur reaches into the bag of candy, pulling out a yellow one. Words need not be said as he mumbles to get your attention, and when you look up, he tosses the little yellow candy towards you. You catch it, tossing it into your mouth and thanking him. It’s quiet as both of you pick your books back up. It’s nice, with you both silently enjoying each other's company. You’re lost in the world of Jane Eyre, and Arthur lost in his journal. Every so often Arthur will peek up from his book, glancing at you for a moment before returning to his sketching.

You reach the bit of the novel where Helen is lying on her deathbed, finally succumbing to tuberculosis. This particular scene has been read and reread by you many times, but it still manages to choke you up. Helen is so brave in the face of death, so sure of the paradise that will await her. And poor Jane, another loss, another grief. You’re not sure what happens after death, but if there is an afterlife, you’re not so sure you’ll be on the pleasant side of it. Tears begin to prick the sides of your eyes as Helen speaks her last line to Jane, begging her not to grieve, beckoning her to find joy. Arthur eyes you curiously from the side of his eyes, wondering what about that little book has you so in your head. With a sigh, you finish the chapter and sniffle, placing the book down to take a breath. Arthur’s charcoal stills on the paper as he hesitates, a question on his lips.

“What's goin’ on in that head a yours? Tough read?” Arthur asks, gesturing to the little ruby colored book in your hands. You meet his gaze with a raised eyebrow, placing the book down on it’s opened pages to keep your spot.

“How about a compromise? I’ll tell ya…if you show me what you’re drawin.”

Arthur’s eyes turn dark with mock threat as he whispers, tone gravelly.

“Never.” He chuckles, and you sigh dramatically.

You both slip into a comfortable silence again, and you find yourself bored. You don’t feel like reading any more, and you’ve picked through most of the yellow candies, so in a futile attempt to distract yourself you toy with your spurs, flicking the rowel and watching as it spins. Arthur notices this, and he huffs. He’s noticed in the past few weeks that you’re always keeping your hands busy, always toying with something or other. He thinks back to when you were tracing constellations on his palm in the bath, and his head hangs low with some shame, and a pain.

“I uh- I been meanin’ to apologize…” Arthur mumbles, eyes fixated on his book.

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, what on earth does he have to apologize for?

“The other day in Valentine, in the bath house. I overstepped- or I misread the situation n’ Im sorry. Never meant to make you uncomfortable, Star.” Arthur all but whispers, a heavy feeling settling in his gut because he doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to push you away, and he is.

Immediately your heart sinks, you’ve been meaning to have this conversation, practicing your words when you lie awake at night, unable to sleep. But all the things you wanted to say slip from your mind.

“That wasn't… you didn't-" You mumble, at a loss for words. There's so much you could tell him right now, so much you could explain. But you don't. No, instead you shove it down, pulling that unbothered facade over your face that has been protecting you from heartache for years.

"We don't gotta talk about it, Arthur." You whisper, flicking the rowel of your spurs and avoiding his eye contact.

You can still see it though, as Arthur leans back, cocking his head with a downcast face. He wants to talk about it, but you can't.

With a sigh, you lay back against the rock, hands behind your head to look up at the clouds. As soon as your back hits the rock, Arthur sighs, humorously irritated.

"Dammit woman will you just- " Arthur chuckles, pulling you back up to a sitting position by grabbing your forearm.

"Just hold still for a minute, I'm tryin' to do somethin…" Arthur smiles because you're always moving, you can't sit still, and a moving model proves to be a difficult one.

You go back to your sitting position, and Arthur leans over towards you, adjusting the violet in your hair. Your eyebrows are pulled together in confusion for a moment until you spot the little journal sitting in his lap, closed over his charcoal. Your eyes go wide, and your lips crack into a shocked smile.

Arthur leans back, picking the journal back up and opening it. For a few seconds his eyes run over the soft features of your face, and then he looks down to his paper.

"You're- You're drawin' me ?" You ask, perplexed, honored.

When Arthur glances up, seeing the look on your face, he gets nervous. He probably should have asked your permission first. He didn't mean anything strange by the drawing, and he doesn't want you to think that.

Arthur scratches the back of his neck, searching for words to explain, but falling short.

"Uh- yeah, I am. But I don't mean anything odd by it. I just like to draw things that I like or that I find- Well, I don't know, usually I draw things that I think are pretty. Like nature n' plants and uh…" Arthur rambles, terrified you're gonna think he's some type of pervert. A smile blossoms across your face, a full, genuine one. He's dug himself in with his words he realizes when you lean in toward him, voice quiet.

"...and me?" You ask, finishing his sentence. Arthur smiles crookedly, eyes on the paper as he responds.

"Yeah, like you."

You smile, content. Arthur continues sketching. The quiet scratching of charcoal on paper is the only reminder that he's still beside you as you slip your eyes shut, soaking up the last of the sun. You listen to his sketching, to his breathing, and the little sighs and chuckles he lets out when you move too much. He knows you can't sit still, it's just one of those little things about you.

After a while, the sketching stops, and you peek one eye open, glancing down at Arthurs hands. He sets the charcoal down, closes the book and then dusts his hands off of his jeans.

"You gonna let me see it?" You ask, turning towards him, adjusting the flower in your hair.

"I never really shown anyone this… My new one or my old." Arthur says, quietly.

"You don't gotta, it's okay." You reassure, sincerely. He's very closed off about the journal, and you respect that. Having one yourself, you understand the desire to keep it hidden away. Arthur thinks for a moment, looking down to the leather bound journal in his hands.

"Here," he whispers, opening it to the correct page and handing it towards you. You hesitate, not wanting to push him, but he nods for you to go on.

"It's just for fun, I'm not real good or anything." Arthur adds, always having a lesser opinion of his works.

You very gently take the pages from his hands, pulling the book towards you. You cover your gaping mouth in shock. Anytime Arthur has previously mentioned his drawings he downplayed them greatly. You should have expected this, as he always down plays his talents. But you had expected messy scribblings, doodles.

What Arthhr has created is beautiful. He intricately copied your face onto the paper, perfectly portraying you in his own style. His shading is perfect, contouring your face and the bright smile plastered onto it. He's drawn the violet, sticking out from behind your ear.

"Arthur…" You gasp, taken aback by his artistry. Next to the journal is a little note, accompanied by your name, spelled out in all caps, and a little drawing of the north star.

She joined me for my guard shift again. We was bored so I started drawing while she read something or other. She looked real pretty with that flower in her hair, oh and she likes YELLOW CANDIES.

Arthur blushes a bit, embarrassed that you've read his thoughts, but he knows you won't judge him for it. Make fun of him, however? Knowing you, you will. He chuckles, glancing up to your face.

A throat clears behind you both, and you jump, turning to see Hosea standing there. He curiously eyes Arthur's journal in your hands, eyes flickering between the two of you, knowing that you're the first person he's ever shown those pages to.

"How's your watch goin'?" Hosea asks, knowingly quirking a brow.

"Just fine, now whatchu need?" Arthur asks, gently taking the journal back and binding it up. Hosea is unshaken by Arthur's attitude, having dealt with it for nearly twenty years.

"Your horse. I'm heading to the stables to buy a new ride, but I need a way to get there." Hosea answers.

"Thought that was your horse there? Why don't you ride him down to the stables?" Arthur asks, gesturing up the slope towards the hitching posts to where a massive black shire horse resides. You don't recall seeing the beastly animal before, but then again you've been stuck with Miss Grimshaw.

"Yes, well I'm giftin' that bastard to you. He's a nasty son of a bitch, and I'm too old to be thrown. I nearly died a handful of times just getting him back here. I stole him from a fella on the road a few days back, now Karmas got me." Hosea says, angrily gesturing towards the stallion who is pinning his ears and pawing the ground impatiently.

"He can't be all bad. You know anything about him?" You say, eyebrows pulled together as you stand up, walking up the slopes to the posts. The two boys follow you.

"Well before I robbed him of his horse and his hunting map, me and this fella got to drinkin'. He was boasting about this damn thing, and said it was immortal. Apparently he was ridden by a bounty hunter before this, and got hit with more bullet shrapnel than you'd believe. Somehow he managed to stay alive. Fella was drunker than a skunk though, so I reckon you should take it with a grain of salt."

You stand back with Hosea as Arthur steps towards the uneasy animal. The horse stomps, ears pinned, and Arthur coos to him, hands up in surrender to the animal.

"That boys' always had a way with animals." Hosea remarks, watching as Arthur calms the shire enough to pet it. His hands meet the dark horse's neck as he shushes. After a few moments, the horse begins to calm. His tail stops swishing, his ears prick to the sides, listening to Arthur and his lip becomes loose.

"Real good, boy. Now don't go kickin me, I'm just gonna take a look, I ain't gonna hurt ya." Arthur coos, running his hand from the horse's front shoulder down to its hock and pastern. He whistles lightly, pulling his hand back up.

"Feller weren't lyin'. Legs are covered in old scars. It's a miracle he didn't die from infection or just get put down." Arthur says, patting the horse's croup before backing up, eyeing the horse from a few steps back.

"He got a name?" Arthur asks, and Hosea shakes his head.

"No, never given one." Hosea adds.

"Reckon I'll start callin you Balius, you're a strong one." Arthur says, moving back towards the horse and picking up his hoof, checking over the state of it.

"Balius…?" You ask, not sure why Arthur would have picked that name. It's beautiful, but foreign to you.

"Ah, Balius. An immortal horse, a gift from Poseidon." Hosea smiles, looking at Arthur and the horse.

"Arthur, he's a smart one. Too humble to show it often, I'm afraid." Hosea whispers to you.

You think back to Boadicea. Arthur must take some interest in history and mythology. You curiously watch him, seeing Arthur in a different light.

"Okay, I can take him off your hands. Go ahead and ride my Walker to the stables. Just board him there for now, I'll see how this big guy does." Arthur says, pulling an oatcake from his satchel and feeding it to a now calm Balius.

You glance to the unhitched horses, seeing your buckskin grazing with the other gang member's horses. He's a small thing, not much muscle on him and Colter certainly didn't help that fact. He's a good horse, but not what you need. You need something strong and quick, something younger.

"I'll join you, Hosea. I've been meaning to get a new ride for a while."

"I might as well go too, get him checked out by a stable hand. He's gonna need a different saddle. Boadicea's is still down in Blackwater and the saddle on the walker is a piece a' shit." Arthur pipes in. Hosea places a hand on each of your backs as he smiles, leading you towards the unhitched horses.

"I'm not sticking around, I'm afraid. Once I get this horse I'll be heading back up to ambarino for a hunt. I hear that there's a beast of a bear up there."

Arthur stops, hands on his belt as he raises an eyebrow.

"You want help with it? Y'aint so young no more, Hosea." Arthur asks, not wanting to overstep, but worried about Hosea's cough and age. Taking on a bear is hard for someone your age, let alone Hosea's. Hosea hesitates.

"Star's daddy was a gunsmith. Sure she knows her way around what we need and I can track better than you, let us go, as long as the lady wants to." Arthur adds, looking over to you quickly.

"Alright, suppose some company would do me some good up in the mountains." Hosea nods, glancing behind him at the horses.

"I reckon me and Arthur get these horses saddled up. I'll have Charles take the rest of your shift. Dear Star, why don't you go pack a bag, we may be away a few nights. Oh and check in with Dutch, he was asking for you. Tell him we're heading out for a day or two." Hosea orders around, and you nod, anxiety pooling in your gut.

"Dutch was askin for you?" Arthur asks, shooting a look at you and then Hosea. You nod, biting your lip.

"Yeah, said he wants to get to know me on a more personal level… Whatever that means." You mumble, and Arthur's face is drawn up in distaste. Without another word, you head towards your tent.

You wave at Jack on the way, noticing that Abigail and John are fighting again. You feel bad for the boy, caught up in this life. You ignore the hungry cries of the O'driscoll, tied to a tree on the other side of camp. Dutch is a fool for bringing him here. With a sigh, you part the canvas to your tent, drawing the flaps closed behind you. A little wooden box rests on your bedside table, a gift from Tilly after you'd done her a favor. You pick up the wooden box, hand resting in the lid, and yet you hesitate to open it. You know it's not gonna be good, maybe enough change for some canned goods, but not a horse, which you need.

Frustrated, you slam the box down harder than necessary. Your hand grabs an old saddle bag from under your cot, and you move to your wardrobe.

You don’t have a tent kit, but you do have a bedroll, so you grab it and stuff it into the bag alongside a few pairs of jeans and some underthings. Damningly, you forget to grab your coat, leaving it stuffed in the bottom of your wardrobe.

Once your bag is packed you can no longer ignore the wooden box that is haunting you. You sit down on your bed, picking it up and holding it in your lap. You pull the lid off, looking down to a measly five dollar bill. It's not chump change, but it won't help you with a horse. It's the last of the money you have from stealing in Tumbleweed. You hope that with the gang you'll never have to live like that again. You were barely making it, never knowing where you were gonna get a meal or sleep. Anytime you needed to purchase something you had to steal. And now here you are, thinking about how in the hell you're going to steal a horse.

You pluck the bill from the box, fold it over and stick it into your satchel.

"Can I come in?" A voice says from outside your tent. It's Arthur, and instinctually you smile.

"Sure c'mon."

Arthur steps through the flap, coming over to your bed. You scooch over and he sits down beside you on your cot.

"What's the matter?" Arthur asks, taking his hat off and placing it on the cot. You sigh, closing the box and putting it back on your table.

"I still feel like I'm just runnin." You whisper, noting the double meaning of your words.

"From what?" Arthur asks, no judgment in his eyes.

"Everything," You huff, "Myself mostly. My past, my feelings. Just robbing and killing and lying to survive. I'm stuck back in Tumbleweed, Arthur. I have no money, I have nothin' to my name. I need a damn horse before this one up and dies on me but I can't even afford the cheapest one. I'm gonna have to steal a damn horse." You sigh, running your hands through your hair, plucking out the violet and twirling it between your fingers. Arthur rests his hand on your knee, and you look up to his ocean eyes.

"Star, you got the whole gang now, okay? You don't gotta watch your back now, cause we all got it." You nod, knowing he's right and feeling better for it.

"I'll help ya get a horse, c'mon." Arthur says, patting your knee for good measure before standing up and placing his hat back on.

"I'm not lettin you buy me a horse." You bite.

"Marybeth caught word of a train job. You come rob with us, n' get your cut, you can pay me back." Arthur says. You know he would never actually ask you to pay him back, he's only offering this to make you feel better.

Arthur extends his hand out to you, and once you take it, he pulls you up to your feet. He grabs your packed bag from the cot, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Alright, go check in with Dutch, I'll get your horse loaded."

Arthur holds the tent flap open for you, and once you exit he files out behind you. You go your separate ways then. Dutch's large tent seems to rise over the others, intimidating you. But you strengthen your resolve, walking towards it with purpose.

Just as you reach to pull the canvas aside, Molly pushes through the flap, knocking into you and pushing you to the side.

"I'm not blind, Dutch! I know what you're doing! You won't even TOUCH me anymore because you’re thinkin about her!" Molly yells, and her voice pierces the ears of everyone in camp. She points her finger at him, seething with rage before grunting loudly.

"You're delusional. Again." Dutch says, rolling his eyes, frustrated.

Molly flips him the bird before stomping off. Dutch only watches her go with distaste.

"Sorry, I didn't intend to interru-"

"Nonsense. I'm sorry. Miss O'shea has been… difficult as of late." Dutch says, clicking his tongue against the room of his mouth. He comes beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder and leading you into his tent.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you've been avoiding me?" Dutch asks, groaning as he rests down into his chair. Everything about the man is dominating. His stature, his stance, his words. He demands respect, and those who don't give it to him receive a bullet. Naturally, with you being you, you test his boundaries. Arthur trusts Dutch, but he gives you an odd feeling.

"Why would I avoid you?" You chuckle, watching as some of the charisma bleeds from his eyes. He gets off on being frightening, and you've just insulted his resolve.

"Hmm." Dutch squints at you, unsure if you're just ignorant or if you're intentionally pushing his buttons. He grabs a cigar from the pack on his desk, placing it between his lips.

"I only came by to tell you that Hosea, Arthur and I will be off on a job hunting for a few days. They asked me to let you know."

Dutch nods, holding a match to the candle on his table until it lights before bringing the lit match to his cigar. He makes you wait, lighting the cigar, slowly inhaling and then releasing the breath of air.

"Okay… I hope you haven't forgotten about our little chat. I've got plans for you. As soon as you return, come see me. We've got a lot to talk about."

You dip your head in understanding, and turn to exit.

"And miss?" Dutch calls after you, and you stop, turning on your heels.

"Hmm?"

"Do be careful on that hunt. Be a real shame if somethin' scratched up that pretty little face." Dutch says, and your stomach rolls as you exit.

You try to quell your anger, try to be the bigger person. Dutch is the one person who you cannot piss off. Your tongue gets you in trouble often but you won't let it leave you without a home. You move through camp, Dutch's remark playing through your head. The boys are waiting for you at the hitching posts, and they see your rage from a mile away.

"Miss Star, what is it?" Hosea asks, checking his girth to make sure it's tight before climbing onto Arthur's horse.

"It's that prick." You snap, finger directed at Dutch's tent.

"What's the fool gone and done now?" Hosea asks, grabbing the reins and adjusting in the saddle.

"Dutch? He botherin you?" Arthur asks, glancing between you and Hosea.

"Oh I can handle it just fine. Miss O'shea don't seem to be handlin' it so well though. Bastard makes her cry and then two seconds later starts tryin' to flirt with me." You growl, climbing into your saddle. You follow Hosea, cantering out of the Overlook.

"He tried to flirt with you?" Arthur growls.

"This isn't new for Dutch. He finds something shiny, new, and he wants it. Happened with him and Marybeth too, but I shut that down quick." Hosea yells back.

"He knows better. I'll have a word with him when we get back." Arthur hisses, disappointed.

"No. I've got it." You respond.

"Don't mind him, hard as it may be. Lately he's been nothing but greedy when it comes to women. He's downright disrespectful, demeaning… Annabelle would be ashamed." Hosea shakes his head.

"Annabelle?" You ask, never having heard the name before. You turn in your saddle to look at Arthur.

"She was Dutch's fiancé. Got killed by Colm O'driscoll." Arthur mutters, an old pain resurfacing.

"She was a sweet girl. She was good for him, too, and kept him in line. Along with young Arthur over here. He and John were a pair of fools when they were kids. She was always badgerin' them." Hosea chuckles at the memory.

"Nah, that was mostly Bessie. John used to steal my damn cigarettes all the time. Course that was my fault. God knows little Johnny Marston couldn't do no wrong." Arthur chastises.

"Oh be quiet, Arthur. We all knew you were sneakin them to him. Along with the booze."

Your eyebrows are pulled together in confusion as the two bicker, and you laugh.

"Yeah well gettin' the kid drunk was the only way to shut him up." Arthur explains.

"Wait-" You laugh, "You all knew each other when you were kids?" You ask, trying to piece together the timeline, picturing them all younger.

"We brought Arthur in when he was only a boy, about fifteen if my memory hasn't lost me. Our first stray, our unruly son. For a long while it was just me, Dutch and Arthur. But then I found Bessie and Dutch, his Annabelle, and then eventually we took in John." Hosea explains, trotting over the railroad tracks into the auction yard.

You can't help but chuckle, the thought of their younger years is a sweet idea. They really are a family, you can see that now

"How did you end up with them? How did you end up doin' this?" You ask Arthur and then Hosea, spurring your horse.

"I was just a kid, livin' on the streets for a long while, stealin' to get by. The city weren't kind to me. After a few years I decided to get away, take my chances out in the woods. I needed a horse to get away from the city." Arthur explains as you slow your horses, riding towards the livery. Hosea chuckles, and you can't help but smile, wondering where this might be going.

"So one day I'm sittin' on the sidewalk beggin' for spare change. See these two horses hitched outside the gunsmith, real fine horses. Saw a white one, knew it'd be quick and strong, just what I needed."

You chuckle, knowing exactly where this is going.

"Get up close to it, no one's lookin' so I throw myself up into the saddle."

Hosea is smiling brilliantly at the memory, as if he's back in the same setting.

"That horse threw me faster than you could blink an eye. I'm layin' there on the street like a fool, feelin' sorry for myself when suddenly these angry lookin' outlaws peek over me, lookin' down at me in the mud."

"And that was where we found him." Hosea laughs.

You make a note to ask why Arthur was alone at such a young age. Your heart breaks at the idea of him, just a kid, begging for money in the streets. You've heard amongst the laughter of the gang that The Count won't take anyone but Dutch, and Arthur appears to have been the first to test that theory. You trot past the butcher's, making your way towards the stables. Once again, you pass the peculiar one armed man posing as a veteran. You nod to him lightly as you pass, and he smiles in return.

"We can fill you in on old stories during our trek up the hills. There's a lot of goodones, especially about Arthur here." Hosea chimes, dismounting from Arthur's walker in front of the livery.

"Great." Arthur says, sarcastically elongating the word.

You slide down from the buckskin, forgoing your eyebrows as you hear commotion on the other side of the closed stable doors. A horse shrieks, whinnying with fear as thumps sound out against the door.

"Just grab her halter!" A man yells, and the stable doors shake from an apparently hard kick to them.

"I can't! She won't settle, goddamnit she's goin' through!" Another man screams, and suddenly the door cracks and is pushed open.

A beautiful Palomino mare pushes through the door, terrified and angry. You jump back out of the way with a gasp, almost getting trampled by her.

"Star, get back!" Arthur yells as the horse rears up, crying out with an ear piercing whinny.

"I got her!" One of the stable boys yells, swinging a lariat over his head. He releases a coil as the rope flies through the air, landing around the mare's neck.

The rope only seems to terrify her more, and she drags the poor stable hand who's heels drag in the dirt, trying to pull her in by force.

You know that there's no way he could possibly force this horse to do anything. She's tall, lean and strong. Her piercing blue eyes are a symbol of her ancestors' spirit. She's a force to be reckoned with, an open flame, you can tell from just a glance.

"Stop! Stop- you're scarin' her!" You call to the boy with the rope, handing your buckskin's reins to Hosea. You walk towards the spooked mare as she rears, hands placed up to placate her.

"Be careful, miss, please. She's dangerous. Wasn't taken care of properly by her last owner n' now she don't trust men. Maybe she'll take to you." The man calls.

You look to her sides, to the scarred over wounds on either side of her stomach where spurs have dug in harshly, and to the sores on her mouth from where a torturous bit has been yanked far too often.

"Oh you poor girl." You coo, taking a step towards her.

Arthur shifts behind you, wanting to just grab you and pull you backwards. But he knows by now not to question you. You can handle your own. Still, it doesn't help his anxiety as he glances at Hosea.

The horse is locked onto you. She has stopped rearing, but she snorts and huffs, prancing and snorting nervously.

"Drop the rope." You order the boy, but he hesitates, stuttering.

"I- I can't, I shouldn't. She'll run off again, and my boss-"

"The lady wasn't askin', now drop the damn rope." Arthur orders from behind you, and your lips crack into a small smile, grateful that he has your back, that he trusts your sometimes insane decisions.

The kid obliges, immediately dropping it to the ground. Your fingers are crossed, and much to your relief, the mare stays put.

Her crystal blue eyes are locked onto you, separated only by the thick, long white forelock that covers part of her face. Her golden coat is broken up by a thick white blaze, and she has four tall white stockings.

"Easy there girl, I'm not gonna hurt ya." You whisper, inching towards her. She stomps her right hoof, ears pinned back. You stand still, waiting for them to pop back up before you continue.

She has a presence about her, something deeply human about those eyes. There's a sense of understanding in them, a clarity that you find only in the rarest of beasts.

"She's got that affinity for animals too, huh?" Hosea whispers to Arthur, looking between you and him.

Hosea notices that Arthur doesn't turn his head, doesn't acknowledge the older man because his eyes are locked onto your back, watching as you approach the mare. Arthur is looking after you with a small smile, a glint in his eyes that Hosea hasn't seen in so long. He doesn't remember the last time he's seen Arthur with so much… life in his eyes.

"She's incredible ain't she?" Arthur whispers back, eyes glued onto you as he speaks. Hosea brings his hand up to Arthur's shoulder, offering it a light squeeze.

"She sure is, son."

Oblivious to their conversation, you shush to the horse, calming her down some. No one moves save for you, not wanting to interrupt this moment, lest the mare run off again.

"That's a good girl, see I'm friendly I swear it." You whisper, smiling as the horse stands steady on her feet, ears coming forward curiously towards you. Holding your breath, your fingertips reach out, inches away from her pale nose. She snorts, sniffing at you, gauging your intentions.

At the same time, you move towards each other, and your fingers brush against her soft coat. At first the mare hesitates, but after a second she leans into your touch. You laugh, petting under her forelock. When you turn around to show Arthur what you've done, you find him sweetly looking over you, eyes bright, proud.

You gently reach and grab the rope from her neck, using it to lead her back towards the stables.

"I ain't never seen nothing like it miss! She just- she just calmed right down for ya!" The stableboy says excitedly as you lead the mare back inside, followed by Hosea and Arthur with the other horses.

Hosea and Arthut deal with their horses, selling, buying and stabling while you chat with the stable hand.

"Can I help you with anything? Seein as you helped me out." The young worker asks you as the older one helps Hosea pick out a ride.

You hold the mare's rope in your hand, scanning down over the other stalls. There's a dappled standardbred, a silver turkoman, a roan nokota, a morgan… nothing that catches your eye.

You turn back towards the mare at your side, then to the stable boy.

"I want her." You say, no chance of compromise in your voice. The stablehand looks at you oddly.

"You- you want her? Miss I don't think that's such a good idea, she ain't right in the head!" He explains, but you've found your resolve, and you are going home with this mare, one way or another.

"You turnin' down a customer?" You bite, raising an eyebrow at the boy and purposely drawing his attention to his boss. Surely the owner won't appreciate his hand turning away a paying customer.

"No! No of course not, ma'am!"

"That's what I thought. She have papers?" You ask him, and he turns around with a sigh.

“Yeah she got papers.”

You nod, satisfied with the response.

“She’ll be nine hundred n’ fifty, miss.” The boy says, handing you your papers and your gut sinks. $950? Quickly coming up with an idea, you smooth your face over with a small smile.

“I'll take her for fifty.”

The boy laughs, snorting at your attempt at a bargain.

“We already lost enough money on this horse. You can have her for nine hundred.”

You squint, eyeing the man up and down.

“Seventy five.” You bite.

“I'm sorry lady, that just ain’t happenin’. This is one of the nicest horses we’ve had, and I can’t just hand her to you for nothin.” He says, chuckling as if you’re crazy.

“You sure about that? This horse nearly killed you.” You lean back on your heels, eyebrows raised, “You said she don’t like men, right? If I walk away now are you even gonna be able to lead her to a stall?”

The boy glances between the horse and you, and the mare pins her ears at him, biting out as if she wants to rip him apart. He sighs loudly, running a hand over his face before looking back to you.

“Four hundred.” He offers you, and you squint, releasing a little of the mare’s lead so her bites and kicks towards the man land a little closer to his face.

“Two hundred.” You bite, and the man rolls his eyes.

“Listen, lady, my pa will kill me-” He starts but you interrupt him. Hosea and Arthur have already checked out and boarded their horses, and they watch you with amused chuckles.

“You’re startin’ to piss me off mister! Would you rather your pa kill you, or this horse? Cause the more you continue to irritate me, the looser this rope gets, and, the lower my offers get. Now, let's try that again. I’ll take her for one hundred.” You bite, leaving go of some more rope and the man has to back up to avoid the mare’s pinned ears and kicks.

“Jesus! Fine, a hundred works. Just, get her away from me.” The boy yells, and you pull her rope back in towards you, calming her down with a very satisfied smirk on your lips.

Arthur pays the man the hundred dollars, and you switch saddles from your buckskin before stabling the horse. Arthur picks out some carrots for everyone’s new horse’s and before long the three of you are walking out satisfied, with three new rides. You stop outside of the stables as everyone mounts up. Hosea had purchased the turkoman, and now he swings a leg over it with a very satisfied grin.

“So we all got new rides, eh?” Hosea chuckles, waiting for you and Arthur to mount up.

“It seems so.” Arthur chuckles, watching as you comfort your palomino before getting up into the saddle. She feels nice to ride, got solid feet, and she doesn’t buck or fret. You pat her neck once you’re in the saddle, and then signal to the boys that you’re ready to head out.

“This one should do me good. Got nice bloodlines, a good age.” Hosea says, waiting for Arthur to mount up.

“What about her? You pick out a name yet?” Arthur asks, pointing lightly towards your horse for a moment. You frown slightly.

“No. I ain't much good with pickin’ names out truthfully, maybe somethin’ will come to me eventually.” You mumble

“Awe, well ya gotta pick somethin’ out. Horse as fine as that needs a proper name… She’s a spitfire for sure. You gotta find a name that fits her spirit too.” Arthur explains, placing a foot into the saddle and swinging a leg over. You hum, thinking.

“Well what would you name her, Arthur?” Hosea asks, turning his horse around to butt in a little.

“Oh, I don’t know, I was just thinkin-”

“C’mon, what would you pick? Tell me.”You interrupt his ramblings and Arthur looks down at his saddle horn.

“I guess I’d call her Athena. War, wisdom, beauty, sure seems to fit her description.” Arthur says, looking the mare over. Hosea smiles a bit, as do you because you can’t believe he’s hidden this apparent interest in mythology from you. First Balius, now Athena? He’s so complex, you smile.

“Athena” You test out the name, liking the way it rolls off your tongue, and even the mare’s ears prick up when you say it.

“Athena it is…” You whisper, smiling as you lean to pet the mare's neck. Arthur chuckles, watching the two of you.

“We best be on our way then, by the time we get up there it’ll be good huntin’ hours.” Hosea calls out, trotting up the road. You and Arthur follow after him, making a triangle formation up the main road. You all pass the building that's half built, and you notice they’ve made some more progress, as wooden beams stick up, framing the roof. There's a ‘coming soon!’ sign plastered out front.

“Say what are they building there, anyway?” You ask, watching as the workers carry cut beams and tools.

“A blacksmith I hear, some real peculiar feller. They say he's real… imaginative. Sounds to me like he’d be better off in a city, but he liked the ‘quaintness’ of Valentine.” Hosea pipes up from ahead.

“He’s… imaginative?” You ask, unsure of the creative limits to Blacksmithing of all things.

“They say he makes decorations, jewelry, all kinds of peculiar trinkets and the like. Alongside regular stuff, of course. He makes tools, and the odd bits are more of a side gig.” Hosea explains, trotting around the bend past the sheriff’s office.

“Strange…” You mumble, glancing back at the building one last time before it disappears behind the sheriff's office.

“Where exactly we headin’?” Arthur asks, spurring Balius into a canter now that you’re all out of town.

“A little stead, called O'Creagh’s run. Beautiful hunting up there, but it’s a bit far.”

“Let’s ride, then.” Arthur responds, and you all push your horses into a gallop. You use vocal cues, not wanting to touch Athena’s sides with your spurs. She responds well, and within no time you’re all galloping back up north.

— — — —

A few long hours later you finally arrive. O’Creagh’s run is a beautiful little place, with wildflowers, grassy hills and a glass-clear pond with massive fish swimming through it. As you ride past, you see a man in a boat, fishing over the waters.

“Just a bit further, we can leave the horses up ahead off the road.” Hosea says, veering from the road and trotting up a small hill. Big boulders stick out of the ground in places, and you maneuver Athena around them.

Hosea leads you to a little opening, and he slides down from his horse.

“Why don’t you grab that gun? And whatever bullets you see fit. We’ll let dear Arthur here shoot the bastard.” Hosea chuckles, pulling out a map and looking it over for a few moments before nodding.

“Alright this is the place to start lookin.” Hosea says as you pull the springfield rifle from your saddle, loading it with express bullets.

“And what exactly are we lookin’ for?” You ask, never having hunted before.

“Bear shit, tracks, fur, blood, anythin’ really.” Arthur answers, patting Balius before coming towards you.

You nod, falling into step with Arthur as you both follow Hosea. The three of you walk around for a long while, scanning the ground, slowly inching around. You see nothing but rocks, grass, leaves, and sticks. Arthur has noticed that you sigh loudly every few minutes, kicking a rock or a stick out of your way as you grumpily walk around in search of anything.

“Arthur, this is boring as hell.” You whisper out of earshot from Hosea. Arthur chuckles lightly, rubbing at his stubble.

“You won’t be sayin’ that when there's a half ton beast comin’ at you.”

“If we ever find it that is.” You huff, crossing your arms as you follow the men. After a few minutes, Hosea stops, waving you both to come over.

“Bear dung here, fresh.” Hosea explains, looking over the pile.

“Never thought I’d be glad to hear it…” You mumble under your breath.

“How close you think, Arthur?” Hosea asks, looking up to the younger man.

“I reckon he ain’t far. See a few tracks here,” Arthur points in the direction of the disturbed trail. “They disappear up here, it splits off into two trails.”

You look at the two trails. One wraps around the side of the hill, and the other continues through a valley. You’re tired of standing around, walking slow and looking at bear shit, so you nod, walking through the valley.

“Where you goin?” Arthur asks, gesturing to you with furrowed brows. You turn around, slowly walking backwards to yell at him.

“Goin’ to find this thing!” You holler back, and Arthur sighs, telling Hosea to go with you while he searches the other trail.

You wait for Hosea to catch up to you, chuckling as Arthur stomps up the hill in the other direction.

“I don't mean to question your thought process, but what's your plan if we do come across this bear?” Hosea asks as you pull your rifle around into your hands.

“Well I guess I’ll shoot it. N’ if that don’t work, you go get Arthur, or we run, I don’t know.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders lightly, “Wasn’t this your idea?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah but now that we’re actually here, I’m wondering if this was a bad idea.” Hosea huffs, and you crack a smile.

You walk the trail for a while, not really seeing much for about ten minutes. Just as you're about to turn around you see something on the grass up ahead. You jog up to it, crouching to the ground.

"Hosea, I found a fish! He's eaten most of it, he can't be far now." You chime, looking at the fresh blood and teeth marks.

"Uh, Star?" Hosea calls your attention, barely over a whisper. Slowly, you turn around.

Hosea is standing facing away from you, frozen in a statue-like stance. About forty feet down the trail stands the largest bear you've ever seen in your life. Its face is scarred, an eye is missing. On all fours this bear is as tall as you, and your breath hitches in your throat.

"Don't move." Hosea whispers, as the bear inches forward. You can't help it, fear taking over as you stand up from your crouch.

You take a step backwards, and your boot squishes right down onto the fish. The slip surprises you. Instinctually, you gasp, pulling your foot back away quickly with a yelp.

The bear's ears prick forward at your noise and motion, and he roars, spit flying from his mouth as he charges.

"Oh SHIT!" You scream as the bear charges straight forward. Quickly, you pull your rifle around and fire. You hit the bear in the leg, and then in the shoulder, and you curse your shaking hands. The bear charges for Hosea, but as you continue trying to shoot it, it switches direction, coming straight for you. You gasp, pumping bullets into it, missing some, hitting random areas and grazing it in others. It will not go down.

You cry out as the bear gets closer, firing once again before it runs into you, a paw against your chest as it knocks you to the ground. Your rifle is knocked away from your hands, and lies uselessly far away in the dirt. Your heart pumps rapidly as the bear roars in your face, ready to tear you to pieces.

You quickly reach down, unsheathing your knife as the bear's claws against your chest push down painstakingly. Your ribs ache from the impact of hitting the ground so hard, but you can do nothing about it as you plunge your knife into the bear's chest. It yelps, snarling and growling as you pull the knife out, sinking it back in until the bear falls to the ground at your side with a yelp.

You pant, chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay on the ground. Your eyes slip closed as you drop the knife to the ground.

"Am I dead?" You whisper, peaking an eye open, relieved to see the setting sun.

"Oh my God, Star, are you alright?" Hosea calls out from his position backed against a tree on the ground. You ask yourself the same question, noticing that it hurts when you breathe, your ribs ache and there are some scratches against your collarbone where the bear had dug his claws in, but other than that you're okay.

"Think so." You hum, just as Arthur approaches, sprinting down the grassy patch.

"What in the hell happened?" Arthur yells, glancing between you and Hosea and the bear, dead at your side.

"We found the bear." You whisper, placing a hand over your ribcage and hissing.

"The bear found us." Hosea corrects, standing up from the ground with a sigh.

"I'm sorry dear girl. I wouldn't have brought you up here if I would have known." Hosea says, feeling guilty.

Arthur comes over to the grass where you are lying, and he sits down beside you.

"You alright?" He asks, seeing where a deep patch of blood soaks through your shirt. It's not yours, but he's sure you're hurting somewhere.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just let me lay here for a minute n' feel sorry for myself." You whisper, breath coming down from its heightened pace as you slip your eyes closed.

"I'm afraid my age seemed to have slipped me. I ain't as young as I used to be and it shows. I'm shaken up beyond repair, think I'll return to camp to lick my wounds." Hosea chuckles, "You folks comin' with?" He asks.

Arthur glances down at you, noticing the way you cling to your ribs. You shouldn't be riding, it's probably best that you rest for the night.

"We'll set up camp here, be back in the mornin'. She should just rest for now." Arthur responds, and you're relieved for it. A few hours' ride home does not sound fun, and besides, you packed a bag in case.

"Okay." Hosea smiles, "I'll see you kids then, be safe."

Then Hosea directs his attention to Arthur.

"Take care of her, son."

With that, Hosea leaves, whistling for his new horse and trotting off into the night with it. Once he's out of the trees, Arthur looks to you.

"C'mon, I'll set us up a camp. Looks like that storms finally comin' in."

You think back to what Charles had said about the rain, and peek up to the evening sky, colored with black clouds.

Arthur pulls you to your feet and you groan, before he whistles for the horses.

"I'll get you settled then get that bear." Arthur hums and you nod.

Arthur starts a little fire a ways away, getting it set up with his percolator and an iron cooker. Once it's set up nicely, he goes back to skin the bear. You grab your bag from Athena, rolling out your little bedroll on the grass before sitting down on it criss-crossed. The night is cold, and you dig through your bag searching for your coat.

You groan, realizing that you must have forgotten it at home. Rain starts to drip down quietly, just a sprinkle, but it's enough to chill you to the bones as you bring your knees up to your chin.

"Why ain't you got a coat on? You're shiverin'." Arthur points out, walking back toward you with a pelt and a bundle of bagged meat in his hands. His eyebrows are drawn together as he comes forward.

"I forgot it."

Arthur chuckles, setting his things on the ground beside the fire before going towards Balius.

"Course ya did." He chuckles pulling something from his saddlebag before coming up behind you. You crane your neck up to look at him as he drapes a coat over your shoulders. It's tan with a warm wool interior, it's warm, and you wrap it around your body as tight as you can, shivering.

The coat is so big on you, it swallows you up, and you relish in the warmth. But the most intriguing aspect of it is the scent. The coat smells just like Arthur, like gunsmoke and tobacco and something else so indescribably him that you dig your frozen nose into the fabric.

"Don't you got a tent…?" Arthur asks kindly, worried over you. He places a few cuts of bear meat over the cooker on the fire, eying you as he does.

"Hm hm" You mumble, shaking your head no.

"Why didn't you say somethin'? Here let me put mine up, you can sleep in there for the night." Arthur says, checking to make sure the bear meat won't burn before he starts gathering the materials to build your tent.

"Why don't you change into a fresh pair of clothes. Your shirts covered in blood, that can't be helpin' your chill. N' you can check for any cuts that need bandaged up." Arthur suggests, down on one knee across the fire, stabbing the beam supports into the wet soil.

"I ain't just gonna strip down right here. Especially not with you right here." You point out. Arthur stands up, tying together the posts.

"Get changed. You're freezin' to death n' you're worried about a gaze when we're in the middle of nowhere." Arthur chuckles, shaking his head at your stubbornness. You look down at your ruined clothes, blood spattered across your torso from stabbing the bear in the heart whilst he was right over you.

"Fine but you better not peek." You say, standing up and walking over towards Athena.

"Star-" Arthur sighs, laughing, "I ain't gonna peek."

"Good. Cause if you do peek I'll have to kill ya," You smile. "No man's ever laid eyes on me indecent before, and that sure as hell ain't changin' now." You mumble, not even thinking about your words. Arthur however, stiffens, hands stilling where they were pulling the canvas over his tent. His shoulders tighten and he swallows thickly. No man…? Ever…?

He coughs, awkwardly.

"Alright well, uh. Hurry up." He mumbles, putting all of his focus onto the tent and forcing himself not to turn around.

You take his coat off, letting it fall to the grass. Arthur counts the pieces of clothing as they fall, flinching each time a new piece hits the ground. It seems to be forever until you're undressed, but eventually you stand naked in the night. You're facing away from eachother. And if he did turn around, he would be met with your exposed backside… but he won't. He's a gentleman and he's made a promise that he intends to keep.

You stand bare facing Athena, digging through your saddlebag as a slight panic starts to creep up your neck. The rain has picked up, coating you in a cold, yet glistening wet. You dig through the bag, realizing that you hadn't brought a shirt. You were so worried about Dutch and money that you didn't bring the most basic of necessities. You shiver, covering your breasts with your hands.

"Arthur…?" You ask, sounding so coy and small, it's foreign to your ears.

"Everything okay? You decent?" Arthur asks, swallowing thickly.

"No! No, I didn't… I didn't bring a shirt." You say, quietly.

"Oh… Go ahead n' take one from my bag. It'll swallow you up, but be better than nothing." Arthur answers, finishing the tent as the rain picks up. He makes an obvious attempt not to look at you as he turns around, grabbing the meat from the fire and taking it into the tent.

"Just come in here when you're ready." He hollers from inside.

You go over to Balius, leaning up on your tiptoes to reach into the shire's bag. Your fingers brush against a soft cloth, and you pull out a neatly folded jade green shirt. It's long sleeved, it'll be warm and it smells like him. You smile, pulling it over your bare body. The shirt comes down to your mid thighs, and the top buttons are undone three holes down, leaving a little of your chest exposed, including three scratches from the bear along your collarbone. You frown at it, pulling his coat back on before reaching for your undergarments and sliding them up your legs.

Your jeans are destroyed, muddied and caked in fur and blood. You don't bother to put them on, knowing they're garbage. Instead you opt to just wear the shirt. It covers you enough, and you prefer sleeping without pants anyways.

You grab your saddlebag, running through the rain until you break through the tent flap, finally escaping the cold water.

"Jesus, cold huh?" Arthur laughs at the way you've barreled into the place. He has turned the whole floor into a bed, as there's not much room. The two bedrolls beside each other take up the whole floor. Arthur sits up, two plates in his hand, and he holds one out to you.

"Frozen." You whisper, sitting on your knees and wrapping Arthur's coat further around you before taking the plate from him. He's cooked up the bear, seasoning it with some oregano and thyme, and you smile for it.

"Maybe if you were wearing pants, ya wouldn't be so cold." Arthur chuckles, forcing his eyes away from the glistening rain on your thighs.

"Yeah well I don't want to." You bite, getting an idea, "Oh! Arthur, I brought rolls!" You chime, digging through your saddlebag until you find the little dinner rolls. You hand him one, and he lifts it up in a little toast.

"Thanks, look, we're havin' a proper dinner." Arthur chuckles.

"Yeah for once."

You eat and chat, enjoying each other's company for a long while. The rain on the tent roof is comforting, and the thunder that usually frightens you doesn't seem so bad now that you're with him. After you've both had your fill, he puts the plates away. You're still shivering, and Arthur's too big shirt slips down over your shoulder.

His eyes flicker to your exposed shoulder, and you go to pull the cloth back up but he knocks your hand away.

"You didn't tell me he scratched you." Arthur mumbles, eyes flickering up to your own as you shrug your shoulder away from his touch, covering it again.

"Just a scratch." You whisper, looking down to the sore wound.

Arthur slides forward, chest towards yours, so close that your knees touch.

"Let me salve it." He whispers, and you look up to his crystal blue-green eyes.

"It aint a big deal, Ar-"

"Please." He urges, eyes locked onto yours as you nod your head lightly.

He reaches into his bag, pulling out the same little tin of poultice that he'd used on your thigh in Colter.

"I use this on you far too much. You oughta be more careful." Arthur whispers, and his breath floats down to your skin, warming you and causing a chill to run over you at the same time.

He gently takes the collar of your shirt, well his shirt, and pulls it down to expose more of your chest and collarbone. You shiver, not from the cold, as he runs his finger alongside the scratch with feather-like lightness.

"Steady." Arthur chuckles, a sound you're familiar with and he applies some salve to your cut. It's so intimate, another thing that's becoming familiar with Arthur, which terrifies you.

To calm your anxieties, you instinctually trace your fingers over the scar on your right thigh. Arthur notices, and he brushes your fingers away from your leg gently.

"Still botherin' you?" He whispers against your skin. You shake your head, ignoring the way his fingers rest on your thigh.

"N-no, just a habit I guess." You stutter, rendered speechless. Artgur focuses his attention back to your collarbone, neatly covering it with the poultice.

His lip quirks halfway up in a smile before he continues.

"Didn't know if you was gonna make it down here after Colter. Thought that fever was gonna do you in." He mumbles, thinking about all that you’ve overcome. Your eyes are downcast, watching as his hand applies the salve to your scrapes. He finishes with your collarbone, and closes the tin up.

“I didn’t know if any of us were makin’ it down from Colter.” You admit, watching as Arthur pulls the shirt back up over your shoulder.

“I'm worried about Lenny,” Arthur sighs, “wherever he and Micah ended up. And I hope Sean is safe for now till we can get to him.”

You nod, thinking about Sean stuck down in Blackwater.

“Yeah, me too. Javiers’ down there with Josiah now. Charles should be heading down in a day or two to help him scope out the town.” You whisper, sighing before tying your hair up and lying down on your bedroll. Arthur hums, watching as you turn towards him on your side, curled up in a ball inside his coat. He chuckles, lying down on his own bedroll beside yours. He lies on his back, hands on his chest, thinking. You’re shivering still, even with his coat. Arthur takes his hat off, fully laying back while keeping an eye on you. He notices that your eyes are far away, your breathing slow and concentrated.

“Caught up in that head again. Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” Arthur asks, crossing his ankles as he intertwines his fingers over his stomach. You hum with a sad smile, drawn out of your stupor by his words.

“My parents… My past.” You admit, pressing one hand against the ground and propping your head up with the other.

“After I shot that creditor I thought I’d never stop runnin from the law. There was so much blood on me, I thought I’d never wash it off.” You whisper, sighing and biting your lip to stop it from trembling. Arthur turns onto his side, mirroring you by propping his head up so you can talk face to face.

“I guess I haven’t yet. I still got blood on my hands.” You frown. Arthur nods, looking down at the space between the two of you.

“Was he the only man you killed before joinin’ us?” Arthur asks, and your lip trembles.

“No… After I left, I was nothing. Just a shell of a person, cared for nothin’, for no one. I was so damn angry. I killed bounty hunters, lawmen. I killed-” You choke on a sob, shoving it back, “I killed people that hurt me, n’ people who tried to hurt me.”

Arthur doesn’t speak, listening to your story. He wants to know how you’ve become so hurt, so afraid of feeling.

“God, my parents would be disappointed if they could see me now.” You chuckle, humorlessly. Arthur’s eyes slip shut with some pain, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your eye with his thumb.

“Now Star, that ain’t true.” Arthur coos, heart breaking at your tears.

“Oh, it is. My daddy was anyway, when he was alive. You’d never come across a stricter man, in his later years anyway. Didn’t let me get away with or try nothin.” You huff, “Didn’t stop me from tryin’ though.”

The wind howls outside, and you shove yourself tighter into your coat.

“Tell me about em.” Arthur asks, and you’re surprised by his curiosity, furrowing your brow, but continuing nonetheless.

“They were in love, truest love you’d ever see.” You smile, and Arthur sees the sparkle in your eyes while recounting your childhood. “I was their only kid, their little miracle.”

Arthur’s eyebrows pull together, and you rush to explain.

“You see, the doctor said momma couldn’t have children n’ that's why she started callin’ me Star. She wished on em’ every night for a baby… Here I am.” You say, smiling sweetly and toying with the blanket of the bedroll. Arthur concludes that you’re right. You are a miracle. You had to have been made from some divine intervention, you're too perfect to be otherwise.

“She was feistier than me, even. I know where I got it from. N’ daddy was grounded, level headed and smart. They kept each other balanced. It was all near perfect… till momma got sick that is.” You mumble, looking up to Arthur. He’s smiling down at you, a warmth in his eyes that is piecing together the background of who you are. You blush, realizing that you’ve explained everything about yourself, and asked him nothing.

“What about you?” You ask, “What was your childhood like?”

Immediately Arthur’s smile falters, and he lies back on his back, sighing. You’re afraid that you’ve overstepped, or upset him, but after a moment he opens up.

“Nothin’ good.” He mumbles, a dark edge to his words. You leave yourself as an open ear, ready to offer him the same comfort that he’s provided you. You want to know about his parents, his life. Hell, you want to know everything about him, as long as he’s comfortable telling you. He has so many layers, so many contradictions. You’re curious as to where they’ve all derived from.

“Momma died when I was just a kid, smallpox. After she passed it was just me and daddy. He was a cruel bastard, the type who enjoyed the pain he caused. See, I was more of his punchin’ bag than his kid. He made me steal for him, made me kill for him. I knew what would happen if I didn’t listen to him. Not that it mattered, nothin’ pleased him.” Arthur sighs, running his hand over his face.

“Don’t talk about him much…” He whispers, afraid by how much he’s just opened up to you, afraid you’ll push him away.

“Arthur, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, hand resting on his forearm. You want to say more but what else can you say?

“Daddy was never kind, never good. He hurt my momma too, even when she was sick. My momma was good. She deserved so much better than that piece of shit. I wanted to protect her so badly. Was just a kid, n’ I wanted to kill him, Star. I saw what he did to her and…” Arthur’s fist clenches involuntarily, “I wanted to kill him.”

You’re at a loss for words, shocked and aching for the trauma he must have gone through. And just being a kid, he never felt sorry for himself. He just wanted to protect her. It speaks volumes about his personality, and you see pieces of that hurting little boy in Arthur today.

“I ran away once, few months after she passed.” Arthur admits, looking up at the ceiling of the tent.

“Just a boy, only eight or so. I didn’t get real far. He found me, made sure I never ran away again. He knocked some teeth out, just baby ones.” Arthur adds, as if that somehow makes it better, “even broke one of my goddamn ribs.”

“Arthur–” You interject, tears pooling in your eyes. He offers you a little smile, letting you know that he’s okay to continue.

“I never ran away again, not till I saw him swing. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw me standin’ at the gallows, knowin’ I wasn’t gonna do anythin’ to stop it.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, and you want to hug him, to hold him, to do anything to take this pain away from him.

“I walked up to the gallows when it was over, picked his hat up from the mud. I wear it to remind myself who not to be… I know it's in me, I got his blood, his rage.”

You glance to Arthur's hat on the ground, seeing the meaning behind it. For the first time since he’s started talking, Arthur looks at you. There are unshed tears in his eyes, ones that you wish you could wipe away.

“How can you look at your wife, your boy, and wanna hurt them?” He asks, searching your eyes for some answer that you cannot provide. He inhales, forcing those tears back.

“He was a sick man,” Arthur growls, an anger coming over him, “I never would have hurt my son, Star. Not ever.” He hisses, and you sit up on your bedroll, eyebrows pulled together.

“...Your son?” You ask, and Arthur curses, head in his hands.

You cross your legs, looking to him with no judgment, only worry.

“Yeah, I had a boy… Isaac was his name.” Arthur starts, eyes slipping shut. He wants to tell you, wants to explain everything, but it's too much.

“Can we-” Arthur sighs, looking up to you with so much pain in his eyes that your heart shatters.

“Can we just lay here for a bit? I wanna tell you everything, I do, but it's a lot, all at-” Arthur rambles, voice quiet. He stops when your hand finds its place on top of his own.

“It’s alright, Arthur.” You say, sincerely. And you take his hands, pulling him up to a sitting position. To his surprise, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his head to rest on your good shoulder in a hug.

“S’okay.” You whisper against his hair as Arthur snakes his hands around your waist.

“I'm so sorry, Arthur. You didn’t deserve any of that pain.” You reassure him, but he brushes it off.

“I was alright. All over now-”

“Don’t. Don’t downplay your pain, it doesn’t work. I should know.” You whisper.

You both stay like that for a while, neither onr of you wanting to pull away. Arthur is feeling more vulnerable than ever, but he trusts you more than anyone. He knows you’ll keep this between the two of you.

"You're nothin' like him, Arthur. Nothing." You whisper, and Arthut nods, finally hearing the words that he's needed to hear for so long.

After a few more minutes, Arthur pulls away, resting down on the bedrolls and patting the space beside him. He's just a little closer to your side than he was before. He wants to thank you, to explain that you've helped him in so many ways, saved his soul time and again, broken down the walls around his heart, but he's not sure how.

You smile as you lie down next to him, soothed by the rain. Your hands are in between each other, resting on the blankets. After a while your heart beats faster, feeling his fingers brush against your own. Slowly, as if testing the waters, his hand moves closer to yours, until you both mutually intertwine your fingers. You smile as he runs this thumb over your knuckles. You’re the first to fall asleep, but even then, Arthur doesn’t pull away. The two of you are wholly comforted by each other's presence, just not quite sure how to show it.

— — — —

The next day, you arrive back at camp feeling better. There's a weight off of your shoulders, having cracked away another one of your layers before Arthur. He feels relieved and more afraid all the same. He had told you more in one night than he’s told anyone. Even Hosea. Still, he doesn’t regret it. He’s glad to know that some of the dark conversation is over, and he can breathe a little easier now that it’s no longer weighing on him. As you dismount, hitching Athena, Arthur moves past you, tapping your arm with a little nod. You smile, just taking the mare’s saddle off as a loud voice calls to you from the otherside of camp.

“You’re back!” Dutch hollers, arms outstretched as wide as the smile on his face. You turn to him, still wearing Arthur’s shirt alongside your old jeans. Dutch doesn’t miss this, and his eyes glance from you to Arthur in his tent, wondering exactly what you and Arthur got up to on your getaway.

“I am.” You say with a sigh.

“Good, now come with me.” Dutch says, and you know there's no room for argument as he leads you through camp to his oversized, white tent.

“What's this about Dutch?” You ask, irritated, as he holds the canvas up for you to walk under his arm into his tent. He enters after you, sitting down in his chair, propping a leg up on a wooden crate.

“Everyone seems to be saying good things about you…” Dutch hums, looking over your body, sizing you up, to see where he can best play you like a damn chest piece.

“That’s… good?” You somewhat ask, completely unsure of where he’s going with this. He leans back, the front feet of his chair tipping up into the air as he squints at you.

“Why haven't you been on a job yet? A real one?” He asks, and you scoff.

“I was on a job, with Arthur and Hosea, but you kinda threw a hitch in that plan when you blew up a goddamn boat.” You bite, harsher than expected. His tongue darts out over his lips, dark eyes scanning you over.

“Marybeth got word of a train, sneaking through Lemoyne in the dead of the night- filled with rich passengers. It’ll be cruisin through virtually unprotected.” Dutch emphasizes the last word, a dangerous glint of power in his eyes as they flick up to you. He seems to have pieced together where he wants you, he's found a play for you to work for him.

“I want you there.” He says, pointing at you, at your brows pull together.

“Alright…”

“A lot of these boys- they’re good boys- they can shoot, and they can steal. But you? You’re a schemer, a player. I can see it in those eyes. You’re like me, like Hosea. We could use your head out there.” Dutch speaks as if his plan is coming together.

“And I’ll get a cut?” You ask, making sure this isn’t charity work.

“Of course.” Dutch responds. You nod, thinking it over.

“Alright, whens it comin’ by?” You ask, and Dutch smiles at your eager attitude.

“Few weeks. Talk with John and Arthur. Come up with a plan, do as you see fit.” He explains, and you nod, moving towards the exit.

“Oh and miss?” Dutch calls after you, and you turn around.

“Do make me proud. I'm not a man you want to cross.” Dutch warns, and you crack a smile, nodding at his attempt to frighten you.

“Sure thing, Dutch.” You respond, and he sticks his tongue in his cheek, looking over you.

“That attitude. I would say it's not ladylike, but I've always been attracted to women with spitfire like yours.” Dutch says, voice almost as low as the glint in his eyes. You bite your tongue for a moment, adjusting your weight to your other foot, and cock your head.

“Molly know you’re sayin’ things like that, Dutch?" You hiss, and Dutch’s smile falters. His stare becomes menacing.

“Molly and I are done-” He starts, and much to his growing rage, you interrupt him.

“Yeah I can see why.” You snap at him. His face turns red with anger as he stands up, and the chair scrapes loudly from how quickly he gets out of it. He comes straight up to you, towering over you, but you don’t back up.

“Excuse me? Do you know who you’re talking to?” Dutch growls, and you only smile sweetly, looking up to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dutch. I thought you liked women with ‘spitfire’ like mine.” You hum, watching as he steps back, shocked and insulted. You chuckle, parting the canvas of the tent.

Causing the gang leader to hate you is probably not a great idea, but you can’t help it. He needs to be humbled by someone. And it's funny. He sits on his high horse, in his castle-sized tent, ordering everyone around while reading, listening to music and smoking cigars. You laugh at the contradiction in his philosophy. He is exactly what he swears to destroy: an overseer, a power hungry fool. Satisfied with your little victory over Dutch, you settle in your tent, pulling out your journal.

It's been a busy few days. Got a new horse, Arthur calls her Athena. She is something special, by god. Beautiful Palomino, eyes blue as the sky. Took her up with Arthur and Hosea to catch a bear, but it nearly caught me first. Arthur and I stayed up there the night, it was real special. We talked a lot. He said things I'm sure he's never said before, and so did I. It was nice, having someone to talk to. I worry for him. There's so much pain in his heart, so much ache, old and deep. I hope that one day he can move on from it all, start anew. I guess I wish the same thing for me too…

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you

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