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ceilidho · 1 month

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 8)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Now a nocturnal animal emerges into the daylight hours.

A week becomes two and your shoulders untense. It’s not something you notice at first because you’re used to an ever present strain between your shoulder blades and an ache in your jaw from grinding your teeth at night. Then a fortnight goes by without so much as a missive with your name on it floating across John’s desk or a stranger appearing in town after tracking you down, and you wonder if maybe the world really is big enough to hide in.

It sure feels that way at times. The woods beyond the bounds of John’s property stretch out farther than the eye can see and even walking it feels like you could disappear into another realm. Old spruces shoot up high into the clouds, and deeper into the woods, huge rock formations grow more and more prominent as you near the mountains. John takes you through the woods on horseback, following the rough trails carved into the dirt by a century of wagons and carts using the same path. The footprints of a different time.

Up in the trees, birds warble and chirp, talking to one another in songs that you’ve never heard before. A woodpecker drills into the side of a tree. Pinecones snap out of the upper branches and drop to the forest floor.

There is only a single trail and it’s easy to lose. You grow a bit nervous when John takes you off the trail and deeper into the woods, but he does so with the confidence of a man that knows these woods like the back of his hand. You go quiet when he stops Buttercup to let a herd of deer wander by, the stragglers hurrying to catch up with the group, throwing the two of you nervous glances before they disappear into the thicket.

“Should we be out this far?” you ask in a whisper, reluctant to disturb the silence. Though the woods are full of animals that bleat, chirp, chatter, and hoot, the sound of your own voice feels preternaturally loud and shrill.

“We won’t get lost, darlin’. I know my way around,” John reassures you, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. These days, you hardly worry about tumbling off the horse. Not with him at your back anyway.

“That wasn’t really my worry,” you mumble, trailing off.

“Then what’re you getting all worked up about?”

“Aren’t there wolves out here? Or bears?”

He snorts, the sound making you jolt. You don’t topple over because he has such a firm hold around your waist. “They don’t usually come this close to town. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That sounds like something mothers tell their children to stop them crying,” you say flatly. You draw your legs up automatically when John directs Buttercup through a shallow basin, a shortcut back home. It makes you anxious for a moment, but the water barely goes up to her ankles, so you relax when you realize that you’re in no danger of being swept away by the current.

“That doesn’t mean a bear or wolf can’t wander by, but it’s rare.”

“And there it is.”

You can feel the heat of his glower on the back of your head. “We could spend the night out here if you want to see for yourself.”

At that, you shut your mouth. Even if he were to prove his point, you have no interest in camping out in the woods now that you’ve become accustomed to the luxury of a soft bed. Granted that you’re forced to share that same bed, still you’ve never slept half as well as you do these days. You wake up rested after nine hours of blissful shut eye, a sleep so deep that your dreams only come in half-remembered flashes. Often they involve the man you wake up wrapped around, and for that you’re grateful that they remain submerged.

A new desire has started to burrow its way into the back of your mind in recent days. It starts out as a thought so brief that you hardly notice it before it skitters away.

And then it lingers.

You wake up in the middle of the night hot, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and a fire burning in your loins, a red-hot coil wound around itself, fit to burst. Pulsating. At some point throughout the night, you must have thrown a leg around John’s waist because it rests there now, your hand planted in the middle of his chest and your sex all but rubbing up against his thigh. Under your hand, you can feel his heart pump strong and steady.

You hold very, very still, waiting for him to wake. But John sleeps on, his palm loose where it rests along the curve of your hip, fingers curling into the flesh of your backside.

You can hardly look at him these days without shaking. You’ve come to fixate on the sway of his hips when he walks and the flecks of silver in his beard. The grooves in his weathered hands. The way your head fits in the palm of his hand when he cradles it to his chest. The fond glimmer in his eyes that shines the brightest when he puts his hat on your head and it slips past your eyes, too big for your head.

When you tip it up in order to see, the folds around his eyes become more pronounced with the force of his smile.

“There you are, bug,” he says, taking the hat off your head to set it back on his and reeling you in for a kiss.

Bug, love, honey, darling. The constant flux of endearments makes your head spin. John never calls you by the name on your marriage license. It’s like that name means nothing to him, cast away at the first opportunity and replaced by an endless stream of pet names.

He hasn’t touched your sex since making you come on the porch swing the week before. He pulls you into a chaste embrace at night, the only evidence of his own desire being the stiff shaft nestled against the small of your back in the early morning hours, which he takes care of on his own in the bathroom downstairs after pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel robbed of something, though you don’t know quite what.

You’re tempted to offer your help, but you don’t know exactly what that would entail. Inexperience and fear of rejection hold you back, stay your tongue. In the two weeks you’ve been married, he hasn’t once tried to pin you down and rut between your thighs like you expected and dreaded that very first night.

Now that that time has passed, you don’t know how to initiate that moment again.

John promises to teach you how to ride a horse. You can’t see a reason to protest, much to your chagrin. Despite your apprehensions, even you can’t deny that it would be a helpful skill. A train only goes one way after all, confined to a single track. A horse has no such laws to obey.

The thought stays nestled at the back of your mind as the days continue on.

You flounder around in the kitchen on the day that John invites his deputies over for supper. You’ve met the big one—Simon—now a small handful of times, each encounter marked by a silence that sucks the air out of the room when he turns his gaze on you and holds it. Perhaps you’ve simply ascribed too much importance to his person, given that every time you’ve seen him, your life has changed irrevocably. His presence is always followed by revelation it seems. The archangel of vicissitude. A harbinger of uncertain times.

The other two are new. John introduces you to them when you bring out the cutlery and crockery to set the table, and you nearly go cross-eyed when they reach across the table at the same time to offer their hands. You go to meet them halfway, but flinch when John brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he apologizes to you first before turning his glare on the other two. “That ain’t proper, boys. You wait for the lady to offer her hand first—you don’t treat a woman like she’s a mutt you’re teaching to shake.”

“Ah, sorry, hen,” the one on the left says, his voice a thick Scottish brogue like a purr. He’s possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever met, but there’s something dangerous and wild in his eyes. When he smiles, it curls up in a roguish sort of way that makes you falter, like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. “Dinnae mean to offend. No’ often we get ta meet such a pretty lady.”

“Sorry—” the one on the right apologizes in a voice far more earnest than his counterpart’s. “And sorry for him. We think he was raised by wolves.”

“What’s yer excuse then?” the Scot sneers, knocking his knee into the other man’s under the table. “Dinnae see ye waitin’ for her fuckin’ hand like a gentleman—apologies, hen.”

“Christ,” John sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

Simon stays silent at the other end of the table, but the whole table jumps when he aims a kick at the Scott’s leg. He hisses and blurts out a word in a language you’ve never heard before, the word unmistakably vitriolic. He clutches at his shin and shoots a nasty look at Simon, though he doesn’t make a move to retaliate.

“Name’s Kyle. Kyle Garrick,” the other introduces himself, and you finally reach across the table to offer your hand. His hand is warm against yours when he takes it, dark skin burnished in the candlelight. There’s something inviting about him; something about his eyes, so dark that you almost fall into them. Thick lips curl up into a smile. “And this here is Soap.”

You frown. “Soap?”

The man in question runs a hand down his front, emphasizing the cut of his shirt and the way it clings to the muscle of his chest. “‘Cause of how well I clean up.”

Simon barks out a laugh at that. The sound comes so sudden and sharp that it startles you. “You got it ‘cause your mum had to wash out your mouth with soap.”

It’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him and you can only stare wide-eyed at the lot of them as they dissolve into bickering and squabbling after that. It’s almost a relief to head back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

Dinner is a similar messy affair, punctuated by the sound of Soap practically gnawing the meat off the bone. He only apologizes when John barks at him for making a mess, more food on the floor around him than on his plate, but his table manners don’t last very long. John doesn’t seem so much embarrassed on their behalf as annoyed, but it’s an annoyance that comes with an aftertaste of warmth. You can tell without asking that they’ve known each other for years.

There’s room enough in you for food and envy. Back home you had friends. Never close friends, but acquaintances at least. Maids you could recognize by face. Small talk while ascending single-file up the servants’ staircase. Perhaps little more than that. You’d never been particularly close to any of them, but how could you? You worked from morning ‘till night, up and down the stairs, moving in the shadows. Never making too much noise lest your employers take notice of you.

Like he did.

You shake it off. That’s no matter now. You’re hundreds of miles away and living under a new name. A married woman, to the county sheriff no less. It only sometimes hurts your heart to think of how lonely you’d been.

When they leave, you stand at the window and watch as they disappear into the black of the night, Simon at the front of the pack, his torchlight leading the way. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt recedes the farther they get.

His hands warm your shoulders. You don’t know how long he’s been there, standing behind you while you stared out the window after the boys. All you know is that his hands are warm, and the kiss he presses to the back of your head makes you arch back into him, unconsciously gravitating closer to him. Needing to be near.

In bed, you curl your fingers against his chest. On a rough exhale, you wake. You dream still of something terrible that happens somewhere else, in another city, in an old life. His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep.

John takes you to the local seamstress to have you fitted for a pair of pants and suddenly you’re out of excuses. They fit you comfortably, like a second skin, and you find yourself pulling at the legs at your final fitting as if to stretch out the material. The seamstress nearly jabs you with a pin and glares up at you until you stop fidgeting.

You come to terms with it when he brings you into the stables and makes you fetch the saddle from where it rests on its stand. It’s heavier than you expected. You stumble back over to where John now has Buttercup standing in the middle of the stable, holding her by the lead fixed to her bridle.

“I don’t know if—” you start, trepidation climbing up your chest until it grips you by the throat. For as many times as you’ve ridden her, you’ve never done it alone.

John fixes her lead to a post and walks over to you, taking the saddle from your hands and letting it drop to the ground. He cups your face in both hands to tilt your head up. “Hey, honey. We’re not doing much of anything today, alright? Just a walk around the paddock so you get used to sitting on Buttercup on your own. I’m not gonna smack her ass and send you down the trail at full tilt..”

That gets a laugh out of you. “You promise?”

He smiles. “Promise, darlin’.”

And he keeps it. The only thing you do that day is learn how to tack a horse and how to properly mount and dismount her. The latter part of the lesson is devoted to you trying to find your balance while John leads the two of you around the pen at a leisurely pace. He calms you down when he sees you grow too stiff, stopping to coo and rub your thigh until you gradually relax. It’s heartwarming until Buttercup begins to tense up too for a reason unbeknownst to you and you watch in righteous fury as John calms her down the same way.

John gets you a hat to keep the sun from beating down on you, but there’s little he can do about the soreness between your thighs and the stiffness in your legs the next day. All you can do is hiss and moan in pain, hobbling around the house until he forces you down into a chair and hikes up your dress in order to apply an arnica salve to your inner thighs.

It’s a relief and an affront at the same time. The duality of man. The salve soothes much of the ache, but you twitch nervously around John for the rest of the day, the memory of him pinning you to the chair and forcibly spreading your thighs haunting you. The lingering ache in your core is just the salt in the wound.

It rains another day. A light drizzle while the sun is still out.

Every day you sit and you think, will it be today? And then the wash basins are emptied out in the field, the horses are taken out to the paddock, you pin the laundry up on the line to dry, and John presses a farewell kiss to your forehead when he leaves you with Kate and nothing happens. Every inch of you waits for more, anticipates more. Throbs when he leaves you wanting, only a chaste kiss and a squeeze around your waist before he’s off.

You can feel it coming to a head. An itch you can’t shake.

That day comes with another ache you can’t shake.

“Please,” you beg, clasping your hands in front of you. “One day of rest. That’s all I’m asking. I can’t do this anymore, John.”

John snaps the lead in his hands. “Let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight.”

You hang your head low on the march over to the stables, John taking up the rear like he expects you to bolt. An executioner’s walk. The thought of escape has never seemed further away—not even because of its feasibility, but because all you want to do is lie down and rest.

“You can quit your moping,” he says as you tack up Buttercup, a pout on your lips. “Got something special for you today.”

That makes you perk up, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t specify what that is. Anticipation mounts in you when he helps you up onto Buttercup and then climbs up behind you himself. He steers her away from the paddock and towards the trail leading into the woods, the sun at its zenith now, illuminating everything as far as the eye can see.

You’ve ridden this trail before. A week ago, with John at your back as he is now. Through the fields and over the hills until the trees start to number in the tens and then the hundreds, no clear delineation between plain and forest. Simply there and then everywhere.

By now, after hours of sun beating down on the path, the trail is mostly dry, yesterday’s rain long since having sunk into the earth. You think it’d still be a tough hike on foot, but on horseback you cover acres of land at a brisk pace, Buttercup hardly breaking a sweat. You cross paths with a small group traveling by horse and wagon, but John breaks off from the path not too long after that, steering Buttercup deeper into the wilderness, where the only gullies are the ones carved out by years and years of rainfall.

You only see it when the land begins to dip and you’re forced to hold onto the horn and tighten your thighs around the fenders to keep steady. At the bottom of a hill, a small stream opens up into a larger river, narrowing out at the other end where the land rises again and the water can only trickle over the pebbly riverbed. On the other side, a rocky outcropping cuts the stream off from view.

“Is this where you used to come to bathe?” you ask, recalling an earlier conversation.

John sighs. “Thought I’d take you for a swim as a treat, but if you’d rather just tease me—”

“Well now, let’s not be hasty,” you say, already trying to dismount on your own, eyes glued on the stream glimmering in the sunlight. John chuckles, keeping you pressed to him until he guides Buttercup under a tree for shade and dismounts first, helping you down after him.

All you want to do is wade in the stream up to your ankles, so that’s what you do. Boots kicked off, Buttercup relaxing in the shade of a tree, John standing by the water’s edge with his hands on his hips and watching you tiptoe over the smooth rocks below. You roll up your pant legs, but eventually you feel the ends grow damp as you venture farther out. At its deepest, you would probably sink up to your waist.

“Don’t you want to swim?” John asks from somewhere behind you.

You splash around a bit, kicking your feet through the water. “Hard to do that with clothes—”

When you turn back around to face him, your eyes dart down momentarily at the sight of skin before you squeak and whirl back around, sending up an arc of water. Twice now you’ve seen him naked.

“You’ve no clothes on,” you state, bluntly enough that it almost sounds stupid.

You hear the water splash and ripple when he takes his first step in. “Right—you better think about doing the same if you don’t want to ride home soaking wet.”

“I was perfectly fine just getting my feet wet,” you say indignantly.

“We came out here to swim, not get your feet wet,” John laughs. You stiffen when his hand comes down on your shoulder, conscious of the fact that your husband is standing right behind you, entirely divested of his clothes. “So best get to steppin’.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says pityingly. “Yes, I can.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make your way back to shore, careful not to allow yourself a glimpse of him. Your boots are stacked beneath the shade of another tree, John’s clothes folded neatly beside them. You strip slowly, attentive to the world around you; though unlikely, it’s not impossible that someone might wander by. Your only consolation is that John is still within sight, though you keep your back to him because in recent days, you’ve developed a hunger for him that even now makes your stomach hurt.

Though the air is warm, you shiver. When you turn around with your arms crossed over your breasts to hide them from sight, you find John wading in the river up to his waist. You’ve seen him like this once before, the hearty body of a man in his prime. Sturdy and strong. The hair on his chest is darker than that on his head, wet too from the dip he must have taken when your back was turned. His hair is slicked back too, a wet hand combing it back.

“Come on, darlin’,” he calls, beckoning you forward with his hand.

The water is a cold shock when you step in past your ankles. Ice cold tendrils wrap up your legs, sucking the warmth from you.

You suck in a soft breath when he pulls you into his arms and heaves you up, big hands gripping under your thighs. Your breasts press against the wet skin of his chest, nipples already pebbled. The river is deeper than you assumed; John pulls you deeper in until it pools around your waist and then your chest. Cold enough that you shiver until John dips his head down and the kiss he presses to your lips melts you from the inside out.

You can’t escape the intimacy of water-slick skin. When John drags you up his chest, your nipples brush over his and the shudder that passes through you is violent, toe-curling. You know that he can feel the heat of your core even underwater. With your legs wound around his waist, every inch of you is plastered to his front. Even your fingers play with the ends of his hair, arms draped over his shoulders. You can’t look away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, breath hot on your face. “Eyes on me.”

As if you could look anywhere else.

He reaches down under the water to readjust himself and you gasp when his shaft is suddenly right there, trapped between his belly and your heat. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to coitus, his glans nestled between your folds. You’d only have to shift slightly for him to slip right in. The thought makes your breath quicken.

He doesn’t make a move to take you though, even knowing that he could. How easy it would be. How it’s due to him. Your husband that’s waited a fortnight to take you as his own. John kisses you until each slick pass of his lips grows sloppier, clumsier—his lips barely parting from yours before they’re on you again, rendering you a creature of base needs.

But his hands don’t shift from your backside where he holds you in place. His fingers dig into the flesh hard enough to bruise, but they don’t move to part your folds to make room for his manhood. You expect him to—practically yearn for it and squeeze him around the neck all the harder when he subverts your expectations, doing no more than letting you grind your heat against the base of his shaft.

“John—John, please,” you beg, mindless for what. You don’t know what you’re asking for.

“What d’ya need, darlin’?” he asks into your mouth, stealing your answer with another kiss.

You fall under the swell of another wave. When the root of his cock glides over your clit, your core clenches on nothing, a sob half-bitten off in your mouth, ripped from your chest.

It doesn’t matter how close to him you get—he gives you nothing. The heat could very well burn you from the inside out. Cold water caresses your skin as it flows past, but the center of you runs so hot that you hardly notice it.

When he hikes you higher up against his chest, you clench your fingers in his hair, whining when he takes your nipple into his mouth. Your gasp comes out sharp and hurt when the coarse bristles of his beard rub rough against your breast. He sucks at your breast tender at first, gentle, eyes half-lidded like his mind has gone somewhere else, but there’s a glint in his eye that grows wild and dark, that turns him rough. You don’t know what to do except shake and let him use you how he wants.

Desperation nips at your heels, urging you up the length of him. If you had more nerve, you’d reach down and grasp him under the water, notch the head of his member against your sex and sink right down on him. You need him like you've never needed anything before. Every part of you aflame, searing hot under the sun at its highest point; right overhead, right on top of you.

His teeth sink delicately into your areola, tongue lapping over your nipple to soothe the hurt, and suddenly, you break.

“Please—” you gasp, wrenching his mouth away from your breast and whimpering when he resists at first, glaring up at you like he might bite. “Please, John—I can’t take it. I need you.”

His eyes darken, the pupil swallowing everything up. “Need me where, wife? Here?”

A hand dips between your thighs, pointer finger gliding over your sex, plump with blood. So tender that your mouth hangs open on a whine when he touches you.

“Y-yes,” you whimper, gaze swimming.

John’s breath comes out in a harsh, ragged pant. Completely undone in a way you’ve never seen before. “Get out, darlin’. I’m taking you home. Gonna give you what you need.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price

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lowtaperfeyd · 1 month

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Jessica and atreides!reader angst? (Mother and daughter angst then yn slowly turns into evil which jessica slowly realise the pattern was repeating)

Metamorphosis

Lady Jessica x Daughter!reader

(Not beta read, we die like Feyd-Rautha)

author's note: If you guys can't tell I really like writing angst. This is also the longest thing I've written so far :). Also trying a new formatting type.

warnings: mentions of death, mommy issues, mentions of blood, mentions of Paul after drinking the water of life

wc: 1145

Lady Jessica did her job halfway right. To ensure she completed her Bene Gesserit mission, gave birth to twins. A boy named Paul and a girl named (Y/N). While the loophole was clever, the Bene Gesserit could not use the daughter she had given birth to. They said she had tainted her womb while bearing a son.

Her father, the Duke Leto Atreides, was the only one who actually taught her important things. When she was little she would sit in a stool pulled up near her fathers desk and watch him go through paperwork and meeting notes. While he trained his son to become duke, he trained his daughter what to do in case something happened to Paul. He didn’t brush her off.

Lady Jessica focused most of her time on Paul. His training, his skills, and his talent. While (Y/N) was taught how to use the Bene Gesserit ways by other members and not her mother. While those tutors did their job well, and she was learning quite a lot, (Y/N) found that her brother, a male, was progressing much faster than her. She was proud of her brother. It wasn’t her brother’s fault, it was her mother’s.

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A younger (Y/N) and Paul sat on the damp grass on Caladan on a breezy afternoon. They watched the sun lower into the sky and begin to graze where the horizon met the sea. (Y/N) took small daisies from the ground and started to make a flower crown out of them.

“You know Paul, if you continue to improve at this rate I wouldn’t be surprised if you were better than our mother.” (Y/N) praised as she continued to pick and tie other flowers together.

“No, no, no,” her brother replied modestly, “what she is teaching me is all of what she knows. Sooner or later I’ll plateau.”

“You never know,” (Y/N) chuckled, cheekily, “Maybe one day she’ll go to you for advice.”

When (Y/N) finished the thin crown, she placed it onto Paul's head.

“There,” she said, “I now dubbed thy, Duke Paul Atreides of Caladan. Who will be an excellent and fair ruler.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The only thing that (Y/N) had against Paul, was that her ability to use the voice was much better than his. Paul sounded like a dying horse and (Y/N) could command hundreds of people with her voice. (Y/N) found incredible joy from this. But this fact scared Lady Jessica.

Lady Jessica was afraid of the power her daughter held. She knew of her hatred against her brother who took most of the time spent learning. Of course this all wouldn’t matter when the Duke died and they lived in the desert with the Fremen. Until Paul had a war forged in his name and (Y/N) had nothing but her brain.

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(Y/N) was standing in front of the giant pool of water, watching her reflection rippled and ebbed. As she stood there, she imagined a war that was fought in her name instead of Paul’s. Tons of water, from people who died while waiting for the ‘Lisan Al-Giab’ If this was my war, no one would die. She thought. After a couple of minutes a Fremen woman came by and poured the water of another warrior. If my mother and her witches hadn’t meddled, we wouldn’t have this mess. She stood there for hours, hours past when the sun went down, pondering her existence and her brother’s willingness to say he was the messiah.

“Are you going to keep looking at your reflection or are you coming to bed?” She heard her mother say.

“Does it matter if I stay up late? I’ve nothing to do on Arrakis.” (Y/N) responded, sounding completely uninterested in talking to her mother.

“It does matter, you need sleep in order to thrive.” Lady Jessica declared.

“Don’t try acting like you care now,” her daughter bit back, coldly, “don’t try acting like a caring mother. Go spread more rumors about Paul.” she sighed out.

“They aren’t rumors, (Y/N),” She retorted, “It’s what he’s going to do. You and everyone else here realizes who he is and his potential. You need to help Paul.”

(Y/N) bundled her hands into fists at her sides. Her knuckles popped at how hard she was squeezing them. Your son has changed far beyond what was expected. she thought, you barely recognize him anymore.

“Would me dying for your cause be sufficient?” (Y/N) uttered under her breath as she continued to look at her reflection, “Should I stand out there and be a martyr? The loving sister of the Kwisatz Haderach…”

Lady Jessica breathed in sharply and said nothing in return. She took her hands and put them over her stomach where her other child was.

(Y/N) turned around to look at her mother, “You agree don’t you?’ she assumed.

Still, the Lady said nothing and just looked at her daughter. She met her daughter's eyes. The blue within blue encased her small pupils and her skin looking paler and deeper set than when they had left Arrakis.

“Why aren’t you speaking?” Her daughter whispered, “Tell me what you think!”

“I think you as a martyr would do as much damage as if you were alive,” She voiced, “your death would be mourned. But, it would not change anything.”

The sudden use of the voice surprised and startled Lady Jessica, “You imbecile, you using the Voice on your own mother.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when Paul used it on your old reverend mother,” (Y/N) stated, “Paul and I did the same thing, use the Voice on a reverend mother.”

“You used it on your mother. Paul seized the moment so he could speak.”

“You were never a mother.” (Y/N) asserted, “you were a housemate, an incubator

at best.”

This stunned the reverend mother. She had never heard her daughter speak so unrighteously and sternly. It was almost like she had never really known her. The (Y/N) she knew, the sweet girl who collected wildflowers that had grown on the cliff sides, had died when they landed on Arrakis and was replaced by someone cold and quiet.

“I’ll help my brother.” (Y/N) expressed as she moved closer to her mother, “I’ll do as he says. No matter how much you go against it. It doesn’t matter if he asks me to burn temples or castles, or even destroy planets. As long as I don’t have to follow you.”

As she concluded her announcement, she turned to hastily walk out of the dark, humid cavern.

Leaving Lady Jessica on her own; to see what had become of her daughter who would burn down the world if given the chance and her son who slipped unnecessary blood in the name of war.

#dune #dune pt 2 #dune x reader #jessica atreides #lady jessica x reader #house atreides #lady jessica #daughter!reader

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gffa · 1 year

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Guess who fell right smack back into BATFAMILY feelings hell? Who has two thumbs and really thought they were truly out of the DC game, that it had been like ten years since they’d read a single comic, that they were finally safe from crying about stupid bats and birds? Yeah, that’s right, this nerd. And now I’m waking up and choosing violence on the rest of you by throwing every I’m Having Dick Grayson Feelings Fic at you that I can find, because this fandom is fantastic for it. This list will skew towards my fave, but I hope there will be some good Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Steph fic for anyone who wanders by for them! You just have to scroll for a second first. I probably tend towards a slighty softer view than canon always provides (I will grab hold of Nightwing #100 with both hands and a death grip, though, and you can’t take Dick & Bruce hugs away from me now) but that’s what fic is for! All the emotional resolution the source material cannot give us itself and I am GOING to inhale all of it like it’s oxygen and I’m on a run. And then shove it at everyone I can while crying on them, too. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Sweater Weather by MashpotatoeQueen, dick & bruce, 2.2k Dick Grayson is eight, Bruce Wayne is trying, and there’s a walk home in the rain. ✦ Hay Is for Horses by lurkinglurkerwholurks, dick & clark & cast, 2.7k The sleepover had been Dick’s idea. In which Clark is a good but very overwhelmed uncle who is Trying His Best. ✦ Eye of the Storm by Janie__loops, dick & bruce & cast, de-aged!dick, 2.5k Dick Grayson becomes once again a traumatized volatile murderous eight year old, and the only thing more surprising is how adept Bruce is at handling him. ✦ A Blur of Spinning Wheels by chinuplilpup, dick & bruce & alfred, 10.1k Dick is on the chandelier. An eight year old. A genius gymnast, to be sure, but a child, small for his age and under Bruce’s legal care. On the chandelier. Twenty five feet above the ground, surrounded by glass and kept up by a single fifty-year-old chain bolted to the ceiling. Bruce is going to have to check his blood pressure after Dick is safe on the ground. ✦ The Flame and the Night: A Bedtime Story by WingFeathers, dick & clark, 1.8k Dick’s thrilled to stay with the Kents, but they go to bed far too early for him to sleep. It turns out to be a job for Superman, who shows Dick the Kansas night sky and tells him a story from Krypton––a story about two gods, called Nightwing and Flamebird. ✦ (T)his Child by shanahane, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k ”I’m here for the elephant,” Bruce says bluntly. ”Elephant?” Haly says. ”We haven’t had elephants in over two decades, what…?” ”The toy. That Dick left on his bed.” OR What wouldn’t Bruce do for… this child? ✦ 5 Times Dick Grayson was in the Newspaper Because of Bruce Wayne by Engineerd, dick & bruce & alfred & clark & cast, 4.7k Batman and Robin are Gotham’s urban legends, and Bruce wants to keep it that way. “I know that,” Clark said. “But when Robin eventually goes officially public, I want to be the one that does the interview.” ✦ we don’t allow monsters in these walls. by thychesters, dick & bruce, 1.8k New dad Bruce is still trying to figure things out with Dick. He’s not his dad, not his brother, he’s just … he’s B, the guy Dick runs around with at night fighting crime. He’s worried, and he’s scared, and he’s too protective. Tonight the protective side just won out. ✦ shades of monochrome by renecdote, dick & bruce & clark, 6.1k He can’t even think, let alone think how to act. His brain is like a broken record, stuck on a loop of blood and ringing gunshots and Bruce is going to die. “It’s going to be okay,“ Alfred says. But it isn’t. How can it be? Dick takes a deep breath and screams for Clark as loud as he can. (The one where Bruce gets shot and Dick cries a lot.) BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Ghosts by fanfictiongreenirises, dick & bruce & batfam, 2.5k “Nights like this, when everything was balanced on the edge of a knife, when Bruce could feel Gotham clawing at them with her claws, he could feel their gazes scraping his back.” Bruce waits for backup with an unconscious Nightwing tucked in his cape. ✦ When I Touch the Water by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 2.7k Bruce is trying to deal with an old injury alone, and alone is exactly the opposite of how Dick Grayson is willing to let him handle it. But Bruce can’t really complain because it’s nice to see his son again and not fight for once. ✦ Making Time by CaptainOzone, dick & bruce & cast, 6.5k Bruce does not remember anything leading up to this moment. He does not remember teaming up with Superman recently, nor does he remember being anywhere but Gotham proper. He does remember having Robin at his side. Robin, it turns out, is not there any longer. God does he hate magic. ✦ to love is not to leave by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1k Dick called Alfred for a medical consult last night, so when he hears someone at his door, he’s not exactly surprised. What does surprise him is that the man who came to check in on him isn’t Alfred: it’s Bruce. ✦ Olive by Ptelea, dick & bruce, 1.5k In which Dick and Bruce catch up in the kitchen sometime after episode 11, “Not It,” Dick peppers his speech with condiment-related puns, and Bruce is sort of amazed by his life sometimes. ✦ too lost and hurting to carry my load by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.8k Dick is sick and feverish, and those two things are forcing him to face some previously-stifled fears and insecurities. He really just needs someone to take care of him. ✦ No Other Songbird Like You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & bruce & damian, 8.5k The difference between grappling off a building and free-falling off a building is actually a very small difference. Really, it’s just the difference between firing your gun before you jump, like Bruce always insisted on according to safety protocols, and firing after you jump, when it’s more fun. The fun way, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, is totally fine and has absolutely no consequences. ✦ mid-May’s eldest child by one_step_closer_to_death, dick & bruce, 1.2k Dick’s sick and Bruce takes care of him. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Handle with Care by takadainmate, dick & bruce & damian, 3.4k Dick is sick. Alfred isn’t around. Bruce and Damian do their best. Damian had known something was wrong. ✦ Off The Record by amathela, dick/donna, NSFW, 1.2k Dick and Donna work off the aftereffects of a mission. ✦ Rejoice in Youth by FlashThroughLight, dick & bruce & tim & damian & jason & alfred, 6.1k Dick has been regressed to the age of four, now Bruce and the rest of the family has to look after him until he returns to his rightful age. If Bruce thought teenage Dick Grayson was unruly, nothing could prepare for the storm that is Dickie Grayson. AKA Dick cons his family into giving him hugs. ✦ The Real in Funereal by lowflyingfruit, dick & damian & alfred & tim & jason & barbara & selina & cass & cast, 9.3k wip Batman is dead. So is Bruce Wayne. And the Bat-family is struggling to cope, both publicly and privately. But crime in Gotham waits for no Bat, and like it or not, new grievances and old, the family must pick themselves up. Gotham needs its defenders, before their grief tears them apart. (Battle for the Cowl AU) ✦ Visions of Sugarplums by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & damian, 3.7k See, it happens like this. Everything’s normal for them all—or, well. As normal as a family full of vigilantes can get. But things are running smoothly. He keeps his head up and his ears open, though, because he may be able to move forward, but he isn’t stupid enough to think that he’s not going to hit a bump in the road. He always hits a bump in the road. He just hadn’t expected this. ✦ Safety First by SuperWhoLockianFangirl, bruce & dick/babs & dick/roy & dick/wally, 2.6k Bruce Wayne can handle lunatics like the Joker without even flinching, but the hurtles of raising a teenage boy prove more daunting. When it comes time to give Dick the “Talk”, he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. And unfortunately for him, he finds himself repeating the experience multiple times over the years. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Catch by Ptelea, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph, 13.7k Five times Dick caught one of the younger Bats, and one time he wasn’t the one to do so ✦ Stubborn by audreycritter, dick & jason & tim & damian & cast, 20.3k Dick is usually the one taking care of everyone else and he’s bad at asking for help. So bad, in fact, that he never even actually asks– but Jason shows up anyway. And then Dick returns the favor. And then they both do for Tim. And it’s just going to keep going from there. It’s probably Alfred’s fault. When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother,” you don’t argue. You just do it. ✦ Without Question by lowflyingfruit, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, 6.2k There is something very wrong with Dick at the moment. He’s doing everything Bruce says without a hint of protest. Tim’s going to get to the bottom of this. ✦ Ranking Robins by Beauty_In_Her_Darkness, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, 5k Buzzfeed has been cranking out quiz after quiz about Gotham’s Bat-themed superheroes. When Jason shows them to his family, him and his brothers decide that not only should their adoring fans get to rank the Robins: Bruce should too. ✦ Carry by Ptelea, dick & jason, 4.9k Whoever said, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” didn’t have to haul you around. ✦ a pointless resistance by emavee, bruce & dick & jason & alfred, time loop, 26.7k It starts with a news report running in the background of a greasy little diner, but it ends with Dick dead. Except, it doesn’t stop there. It keeps on ending, over and over. Bruce’s son keeps dying, and nothing he does seems to make any sort of difference. ✦ while you see it your way by irnan, bruce & dick/babs & tim & cass & damian & alfred, 4.5k Wherein Damian acts his age for once, and - to the astonishment of absolutely no one - it’s all Bruce’s fault. ✦ Manor-Dad lets me drive the Batmobile by loosingletters, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian & duke & cast, 21.2k wip Bruce had two options when Dick found the Cave. 1) Tell him the truth. 2) Go along with Dick’s excited “You’re dating Batman!” until he figured out the truth. Several children later Bruce wished he’d gone with option 1) or he wouldn’t have to deal with all his kids believing he and Batman were separate people. ✦ Bomb Sing Se by Cephalogod, dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian, 2.2k The thing was…it wasn’t actually the worst idea. (The bombs in the gauntlets part; Jason had vocally disapproved of every aesthetic decision Dick had ever made since they were teenagers, Dick wasn’t going to start listening to him about that now.) ✦ Above Any Price by centreoftheselights, dick & jason & tim & damian, 1.6k Dick gets the news that Jason has been taken hostage. This time, he’s going to save his brother. ✦ Upside Down by withthekeyisking, dick & jason, de-aged!dick, 2.1k Something that was not on Jason agenda for the night, but somehow now is: take care of the de-aged version of his big brother, who is—in his tiny mind—apparently running away from juvie. Because, sure. Why the fuck not. ✦ straight up, what did you hope to learn about here by irnan, bruce & dick & damian & barbara & jason (background dick/babs), 3.8k (or: Three Conversations Dick Grayson Has About Jason Todd, That One Time A Couple Years Ago When Jay Was Dead, And How Talia Al Ghul Is Why Dick Can’t Have Nice Things.) ✦ Now Comes Good Sailing by geminus_17, dick & jason, 2.3k Dick and Jason escape to Walden Pond and have a healing talk about the meaning of life and death, and insult Henry David Thoreau. ✦ on the other side by MermaidMarie, dick & jason & tim, 3.6k In which Tim and Jason are staying up all night in the hallway, after Dick gets his memories back. ✦ Control Alt Delete by audreycritter, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & stephanie & riddler, 1.9k Sometimes the only way to solve an impossible riddle is to give up. ✦ Extension by smilebackwards, tim/kon & dick & jason & bruce, 5.9k Tim’s going to need to learn to be less conspicuous about this hopeless crush he’s developed; he lives with an entire family of detectives. Or: Tim has a crush on Conner and everyone has something to say about it. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ The 70 Days After Groundhog Day by Ptelea, dick & jason & batfam, time loop, 43.9k There’s a time loop that only Jason remembers. It acts as a catalyst for changes within the family. Some arguments, some misunderstandings, some bonding, some healing, and quite a lot of conversations that mostly take place over food. Dick POV, focused on Dick and Jason but with the other Bats around and very present. ✦ Fair is Fowl by Lysical, dick & jason & batfam, 4.3k Dick Grayson is visiting the Manor. Jason Todd has the chickenpox. They might not be brothers, but maybe they can get along for one evening. ✦ Ensemble Performance by lowflyingfruit, jason & damian & batfam, 4.8k Damian has a deep, dark secret he needs kept from Grayson, his father, and most of all Drake, at all costs: he has, quite unwillingly, been volunteered for a part in his school’s annual musical. As a grouchy dinosaur. This is now Jason’s problem. Or his blackmail opportunity. Whichever. ✦ Home Intrusion by daedalusdavinci, dick & jason & cast, 7.2k There are moments when the… everything of Dick’s life catches up with him, and exhaustion sinks deep into his skin. However, when he goes dark on everyone else, Jason doesn’t quite get the memo. Rules never seem to apply to little brothers. After two weeks of little more than clipped texts, Jason shoves his way into Dick’s life and gets him up and moving again. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ 3:16 by partingxshot, dick & damian & alfred & stephanie & cast, 70.7k The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.) ✦ The R Stands for – by Cirth, dick & damian & bruce & talia, 5.8k Damian pretends to focus on lacing up his boots as his father tugs Drake to his side, plants a gruff, casual kiss in his hair. Drake’s lips curl into a pleased smile, and Damian yanks the strings so hard his palms burn. ✦ The Rule Stands by Engineerd, dick & damian & bruce & tim & alfred, time travel, 11k Damian meets a 10-year-old Dick Grayson, and they become best friends. ✦ this tiny little space by Alienu, dick & damian, 2.1k The landing on his fire escape is nearly silent. Nearly. ✦ waiting for the tides to meet by partingxshot, dick & damian, 2k Grayson behaves like this sometimes: like Damian needs to be protected. It twists his stomach in sharp and unfamiliar ways. “You leave, then!“ Damian spits. "I’ll—I’ll track Clayface on my own.” Another shudder takes him. The pain floods him all over again. It doesn’t matter: he won’t cry out. The rain pelts the dumpster behind him. It pools in cracks in the concrete. ✦ the city without stars in its skies by Alienu, dick & damian & batfam, 18.5k (Or, in a world where he was never sent to live with his father, Damian al Ghul is contracted to assassinate one Dick Grayson.) ✦ Catch Me (All Records Indicate) by Engineerd, dick & damian & batfam, 9.5k Damian had studied each of his father’s prior proteges briefly before he’d left the League of Assassins. Somehow, Grayson in person is nothing like Grayson on paper. OR “Are you sure you can catch me?” Grayson asked. Damian could hear his heart beating. He wasn’t sure. “Yes,” he answered anyways. ✦ Even in the Midst of Grief by Ellegrine, dick & damian, 4.3k Richard Grayson has never hurt Damian. It’s unforgivable that anyone should believe otherwise. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, MAKE ME CRY ABOUT BATS AND BIRDS, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Second Generation by lowflyingfruit, dick & bruce & tim & barbara & jason & alfred & cass & cast, aftermath of rape + depression, 108.9k Nine months after the ‘Blockbuster Incident’, a call from Lockhaven Penitentiary regarding Catalina Flores brings all Dick Grayson’s plans for his future in Bludhaven crashing down. Thrust suddenly into parenthood and hiding what happened to make him a parent in the first place, Dick must decide, adjust, and accept - and no matter what, the family has to pull together to help him. ✦ Savior Complex by Arwriter, dick & bruce & barbara & tim & jason & damian & alfred & cast, 11.6k “All I did was disappoint you.” He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t catch his breath. “I just wanted to do good. I just wanted to be better and all I did was make everyone angry.” Or: When Bruce comes back from the dead, Dick goes nonverbal. Nobody seems to have the time to notice. ✦ Essential Actions by CKBookish, dick & clark & bruce & wally & cast, 8.8k Clark shifted his weight making the floorboards creak and groan under his feet. “Dick I hate to see you–” He paused searching for the right word. Dick snorted. “Wallow?” Clark sighed. “That’s not what I was going to say.” “I know. I can go to the barn and hang out there if I’m bothering you and Lois.” Dick pushed himself up. Of course he should have thought of that. Lois didn’t want some random teen laying around her home on Christmas Eve. Dick’s first Christmas without Bruce after he’s fired. ✦ The Night It All Came Crashing Down by chibi_nightowl, dick & jason, rape aftermath/read the tags, 4k After a difficult night on patrol, memories Dick would much rather forget come to the surface. Thankfully, Jason’s there to catch him before he falls. ✦ The Winter of Our Discontent by BloodFromTheThorn, dick & bruce & jason & tim & alfred, 10.2k Why did criminals always think that the best time to make a disturbance was in the middle of winter? Between the snow, Clayface and Scarecrow, Dick’s having a really bad day. It really doesn’t help that Batman’s late. ✦ The Universe Doesn’t Get to Take This by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & bruce & damian, 1.9k “And they’re so important that you don’t come home to check on your recently un-amnesiac brother? And here, I thought I was your favorite.” BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT’LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ In This or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch, dick & bruce & alfred, 33.4k Dick Grayson (DCU) accidentally lands himself in Battinson’s Gotham. ✦ I’m a Good Pretender by shipNslash, dick & bruce & alfred, 40.4k Dick’s mother raised her son to be a star. Dick’s father raised his son to be an athlete. Bruce’s new ward is charming (manipulative), dedicated (obsessive), and way, way too smart for either of their own good. ✦ take these broken wings and learn to fly by fishingclocks, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 45.5k wip or, How Dick Grayson Burrowed His Way Inextricably into the Heart of Bruce Wayne ✦ i turned around, there was nothing there by lwbones123, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.1k the batman got me thinking about battinson with a robin. this is that. ✦ Robin’s Light by iammadeofmemories, dick & bruce, ~1k ‘Lies still’. Murder weapon still missing, Why riddles? Why leave a code? And why— “B! Whatcha working on?” or, in which I throw nine-year-old Dick Grayson at Battinson.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #batman #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #fic recs #batman fic recs #batfam fic recs #long post #really long post

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bimobuddy · 2 months

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Just Like (Really) Old Times

SFW Hazbin Tickle Fic

Lee!Adam, Ler!Lucifer

Sinner!Adam

Spoilers and Swearing

AdamsApple if you squint just a little

Summary: Adam moved into the Hotel and that means living with the very people he tried to Exterminate, and with the very man he's hated for so long. However when Lucifer brings back some 'old memories,' he starts to warm up to the idea of living there.

It had definitely been a shock for... everyone.

The day someone knocked at the Hotel doors, and when Charlie opened them, she was met with someone.. familiar.

There stood Adam, now with grayer skin, red eyes, leathery wings, and horns. As he opened his mouth to speak, it was revealed that he even had fangs now.

"Uh... hi..."

He had expected for the doors to be slammed in his face, for Charlie to tell him to get lost, hell, he even expected to be killed again.

But as Charlie looked up at him for a moment, she stepped aside, and opened the door wider.

"Checking in? We have room."

♡♡♡

Weeks had gone by, and everyone was tense. How couldn't they be? The crew had to live within close proximity of the man who's been leading exterminations for years to kill them. And Adam was living within close proximity of the people he's been exterminating for years.. it was awkward as shit.

And for the first time, he felt like he didn't belong somewhere. He felt as though he had invited himself into someone else's house and was overstaying his welcome- But he had nowhere else to go.

He didn't even know what to do with himself. He had become the very creature he had sworn to destroy. The very pest he had been exterminating. His beautiful golden feathers were gone, his halo was gone.. Everything about himself, to him at least, was gone.

Lucifer leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched Adam from across the room. The First Man was on the couch, looking down his his clawed hands that looked so unfamiliar to him. It reminded the king of when he had first met Adam, back when the man had been created. And back before he had fallen.

Adam looked down at his hands in awe. He turned them over, amazed before looking down at the rest of himself. He had been alive for about a month at this point, but he couldn't get over the fact that he was alive and existing. He loved it. He loved being able to see the world around him, being able to hear birds, the wind in the leaves, even his own voice. Especially his own voice. He had spent quite a while just sitting and speaking to himself, even just making random noises, stretching his words out, making the tone go up and down. One of the angels sent to check on him told him it was called 'singing.' He liked singing.

As Adam sat there, just making random noises to himself, he hadn't noticed a familiar white serpent approach him. Not until it chuckled at the noises he was making, startling him. Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?"

Adam looked up at Lucifer. "The fuck are you staring at, loser?" Lucifer raised a brow. "I'm sorry, who lost?" He asked, leaning on his cane. Adam flinched a little and looked away, back down at his hands. They were clawed, darker at the hands than the rest of his arm.

The couch dipped down, causing Adam to look back up at the angel next to him. The angel he was so familiar with. The angel he had once been friends with. Lucifer smiled. "Actually I was just remembering some things.. Back when you were still alive. Like how you told me you liked sweet things. Do you still? It's been a couple years since then."

Adam snorted. "Yeah, just a couple thousand.. Yes, I do still like sweet foods." The king chuckled. "And I remembered you telling me about the 'horse things with branches on their heads.-'" "Oh fuhuck off, I didn't know what deer were."

"But one more thing I remembered," Lucifer skittered up his side, "Was when we discovered you were ticklish." Adam jolted upright, batting his hand away. "Fuhuck off- Don't-" "I specifically remembered you asking me to do it again. Do you remember that?" He asked, abandoning his cane to gently scribble up both of his sides.

Adam immediately burst into giggles, slamming his arms down. "Fuck! fuhuhuhuck you fuhuck off noho I dihidn't!" Lucifer chuckled and tweaked his sides, gently squishing the pudge between his claws, causing Adam to shriek and curl up. "Yes the fuck you did, you liar," he laughed along with him, "That wasn't the only time either, buddy. It seemed any chance you got, you were asking me to tickle you."

Adam was blushing, and blushing hard. He grabbed ahold of Lucifer's wrists, but couldn't really push him away as he was giggling so hard. The king continued, "You loved it so much you introduced Eve to it, I remember that," He gently kneaded into Adam's ribs, earning some squeals, "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Buddy."

Lucifer raked his fingers down Adam's ribs, and gently skittered across his belly. The sinner tried to curl up and bat his hands away, letting out a snort. "Dohohont- Shuhuhut the fuHUCK uhuhup!" "Oh, don't shut the fuck up? Alrighty~!" The teasing got to Adam. He gave up fighting back and just covered his face.

"I know during our fight I said you 'let yourself go,' but you know what, I think this is better," he started to scritch at his tummy, "Now I have more tickle room." Adam's face turned an even darker shade of red at this, growing more and more flustered.

"Fuck- st- nohohoho!" "See? Even now you're still stopping yourself from saying 'stop.'" Adam started to bat at him again, grabbing for his wrists, "SHUHUT THE FUHUCK UHUHUP!"

Lucifer pulled his hands back, grinning as he watched Adam just go completely limp, his giggles mixing with his panting. "Question for you Addy," "Don't you ever fucking call me that again." "When you were an angel, were your wings ticklish?"

Adam's black and red eyes snapped open. Instinctively, his wings folded over his body, as if he were cocooning himself. "Don't you fucking dare, Lucy."

Lucifer stopped.

"You called me Lucy." Adam paused a little, too. "Yeah.." Lucifer smiled a little. "You haven't called me that since Eden." The sinner looked away momentarily. "I guess.. All this sort of just.. reminded me of the Garden," He looked back down at his claws, "Things were.. so much simpler back then."

Sensing his discomfort with his new body, Lucifer took one of Adam's hands in his own. "You don't look bad, y'know. I know it's different, scary even, but it's not bad." He turned Adam's hand over so it was resting palm-up. He softly traced it, watching as the other's claws twitched from the soft ticklish feeling. "It'll take some time, Adam, but you'll get used to it. Comfortable, even-" "That's what I'm worried about.." Adam looked down at him, being a full two feet taller. He sighed and pulled his hand back.

They sat in silence for a bit before Lucifer broke it. "You know, Charlie is thrilled that you're here." Adam scoffed, "After I destroyed the place and nearly killed you guys?"

"She's happy that you chose to be here. You made the decision to check into a Hotel meant for redemption. That means somewhere deep down, you at the very least have hope. And that's a good start."

Adam huffed. "What if it's not possible..?" The king looked up at him. "Then I guess you're stuck here with us." He offered a smile.

The sinner couldn't help but smile back. As much as he would have loathed the though even just a week ago, it didn't seem so bad now. Lucifer seemed to want to be his friend again, and Charlie was a sweet kid who truly seemed to believe in him.

Back in Heaven, he had a lot of power, sure. He was The Man. He always got what he wanted, whether it was power, bent rules, or sex. But here? He was seen as an equal, as someone who was flawed, someone who had been human. And he was surprisingly okay with that.

His soft smile, turned to a smirk. "I remember something, too." Lucifer tilted his head, curiously. Adam continued, "I remember the first time I retaliated, and found out your wings were ticklish as fuck." "Shit- you back the fuck off-" Lucifer hopped up and took off running.

Adam unfolded his wings, which seemed to be stronger than they once were, and with a powerful flap, immediately caught up to him.

Who knew the King of Hell hiccuped when he laughed?

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!adam #ler!lucifer

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heedmywarnings · 1 year

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One last time

(Full Chapter)

In which you insult them one last time. (Aka me insulting pixels even tho I'm on Hiatus)

(Written when I was on Hiatus lmfao)

Warning: Cursing, lots of them.

》 - Chapter 2

Masterlist

♤~-~♤

You were finally captured. It took three months to get where you are, standing before you are the Archons who participated in the hunt, and now they will execute you.

"Before you here, is the Impostor that stole our beloved deity's face" Barbatos started, looking down upon the people, "As if you didn't" you said, barely a whisper "Would you like to repeat that, thief?" The Goddess of Justice whispered on your ear as she pulled your hair, "I SAID, AS IF YOU DIDN'T" you repeated, the crowd gasps because they are very very shocked because they gasped.

Also this moon cake im eating doenst taste good.

"What?"

"You were born from the desires of people, meaning if Decarabian wasn't a tyrant then you wouldn't even be born!" The crowd screams defending the Wind God, "Oh come on! He stole the face of his DEAD friend!" You yelled, "Don't get me started with how he abandoned his nation for the tyrants to just invade Mond. Lady Venessa freed Mondstadt from the Lawrence clan!" Technically, Venti did help but you need to get the crowd on your side.

"That's enough," Ei said approaching you as she unsheath her sword, "You also abandoned your nation! What? because your sister, THE TRUE RULER of Inazuma died?" At this point everyone is appalled.

"T-"

"Don't even get me started with you, you rat tailed motherfucker. You literally made a deal with the fatui, you knew Childe was gonna summon Osial and you let it happen. More so, you faked your own death because you didn't feel like ruling over Liyue? Or was it because you finally understood that you're just incapable of being an Archon? The only reason you survived the Archon War was the adepti and yaksha that you expended!"

"..."

"And who's to say you didn't commit any crime?" Ei said after the shock had dissipated, "What crime!? How do you think a mere mortal were to steal a God's face!?" You screamed through a horse voice, now you've got everyone talking, (like the jury in the Ace Attorney.)

"Is your god suffering from sever little-bitchitis to the point you'd hunt anybody who look REMOTELY similar to them?"

The Archons were stunned, it seemed like you made everyone hold their breathe. "Such blasphemy won't go unforgi-" "I don't need your forgiveness, you cockroach arthritis-suffering bitch," you cut Zhongli off.

"Hey now...let's not say something will regret, huh?" Nahida said, through the familiar gentle voice, "I won't regret anything that comes out of my mouth." You replied, not finding any reasons why Nahida should be insulted.

"By far, the only Archon that ever helped the Traveller was the Dendro Archon! And she was even locked up!" You said, "You, Barbatos, you just avoided any talk about traveller's twin. Morax, why did you sign a contract that silences you about their twin? Do they scare you that much? Are you really that weak and pathetic?" You said apathetically and sarcastically.

"I am under a contract, and I must abide by that contract," Zhongli replied with a more... confident form, you can't wait to crush it, "Didn't you also sign a contract with the mortals of Teyvat that you'd never hurt them? WELL WHAT ABOUT ME? WHY AM I AM EXCEPTION?" Technically, he didn't, but if they were gonna use lies and deception to win this argument, you might as well do the same.

"Because you're nothing but an Impostor, not even worthy to be called human" Ei said, striking her blade on your thigh, you gasped in pain. "Hah! And what are you? You were an Impostor that created another Impostor because you can't handle the guilt of being one!" At this point it was useless to argue, they were pissed off but the people? They don't believe you, but they've also lost faith to their Gods.

And so, what did you achieve? Death and your name on the history textbooks saying that you were the reason that Teyvat rebelled against their Gods...

So, are you ready to resurrect later in life to attack the Archons (verbally) once more?

Next chapter coming out idk when

#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact #self aware genshin #sagau cult au #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au

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rafesgoldrings · 11 months

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Drew Starkey characters

Rafe Cameron

* indicates smut 18+ ONLY

Imagines

One Hell of a Night* (ft Poly!Kook Topper and Kelce)

It’s strictly platonic between you and the three kook boys to anyone else, but when you’re alone it’s a totally different answer. A daunting game of cat and mouse lands you in an interesting position one Friday night.

Sex Tape* (Cam boy!Rafe AU)

Rafe agrees to let you be in one of his shows on the agreement he gets to make a sex tape with it…turns out you like being the slutty star of the show

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy* (Cowboy!Rafe AU)

When you see that Rafe Cameron is looking for new ranch hands, you jump at the opportunity. You’ve heard the rumors about him being a cowboy casanova and plan on keeping it professional, but his blue eyes and thick southern drawl make it harder than you planned

Throat Training*

Rafe really likes training your throat hoping that one day he can use it to his full advantage

Let Me Help* (ft Topper and Kelce)

After hearing what JJ and Pope did to Topper, you decide to join in on the plan for revenge. Turns out you like seeing your boys get mean way more than you thought

Princess*

Rafe likes having your throat full. He also really likes making fun of you for it

Lines*

Rafe does lines off your tits

Blurbs

Rafe gets an idea when he sees your silk sleeping mask and it becomes a new thing for you two*

After care with Rafe

Rafe getting you all worked up and mocking your moans*

Car sex with Rafe*

Rafe gets a handjob after you get your nails done and loves how they look gripping his cock*

Rafe likes when you get off on his thigh*

Overstim! With Rafe*

Sub!Rafe*

Comfort!Rafe

“Shh shh baby, I know I know”*

Rafe makes sure you know how much he loves you

Angry Rafe using you to get his frustration out*

Rafe spanking you after you tease him all day*

Getting Rafe’s initials tattooed under your tits*

Mean sex with Rafe*

Rafe x Bimbo!Reader*

Rafe punishes you after you make a snotty comment about his…skills*

Giving Rafe road head*

Reassuring Rafe

JJ catching his kook gf giving Rafe road head*

Trophy wife!Reader

Original trophy wife request*

Rafe gets a blowjob while on the phone*

Rafe spoils you at the spa and finds himself roped into a couples massage*

Rafe fucks you on the new guys desk to show him who you belong since he doesn’t seem to understand*

Rafe buys you a diamond necklace with his name on it

Rafe takes care of the creepy guy that won’t leave you alone at work when things get physical*

Rafe finds your ‘toys’ and uses them against you…literally*

Showering with Rafe quickly turns sexual when he uses the showerhead to his advantage*

You’re jealous of Rafe’s newest business conquest*

The new guy at work treats you like shit not knowing who your husband is*

Rafe keeps his promise of making you beg after the events of the new guy disrespecting you*

Rafe with a breeding kink*

You get hurt at the office and Rafe panics (AKA hurt/comfort)

Teasing Rafe at a business dinner*

Rafe takes care of you while you’re on your period

Taking care of a coked out Rafe

Poly!Kook!Boys x Kook!Reader

How your relationship with the boys started

You tell Rafe he’s your favorite during sex, a little white lie doesn’t hurt anyone*

Growing tired of your bitching when they stop spoiling you for a few days, Rafe teaches you a lesson using his belt*

The boys find out you’ve been lying to them about who’s your favorite and plan their revenge*

The boys handle a pogue that made you uncomfortable. Nobody touches their girl and gets away with it

The boys have a game of who can make you come the most and the hardest, you find out and make your own game*

What the boys do when you take too much coke

The time Topper went too far against your boundaries and your other two boys took care of it (1/2)

The time Topper went too far with claiming you and Rafe got jealous* (2/2)

Pregnancy scare

The boys take care of you after you have a few too many drinks*

The boys doing lines off your body*

Cowboy!Rafe AU

Fluffy/flirty moments with Cowboy!Rafe

You pick flowers for Cowboy!Rafe after a long day at the ranch (blushy and shy Cowboy!Rafe)

#rafe cameron imagine

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arecaceae175 · 3 months

Text

Gratitude Part 2: Twilight

Summary: Eight times Sky receives a gratitude crystal from the chain plus one time he gives some away. Twilight's turn :D

I said I was going to wait to post these on AO3 BUT I changed my mind XD. So here's the AO3 link.

Part 1. Art for part 1!! Art for part 2!!

“Hyah!” Twilight yelled as Epona galloped past.

A whoosh of air made Sky’s sailcloth flutter and the stomps of the goats barreling into the barn echoed in his ears. He scooted closer to Colin.

“So…” Colin trailed off uncertainly.

Sky glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. He consciously tried to relax his muscles and make his body language as unintimidating as he could.

“So?” Sky asked lightly.

“You’re a hero too? Like Link?” Colin asked.

“I am,” Sky said. He fought to keep the reluctance out of his voice. Colin didn’t need to be subjected to Sky’s true feelings about his place in the world.

“From far away, though,” Sky said.

“I’ve been to Kakariko! That’s pretty far,” Colin said.

Sky smiled. “A lot farther than that.”

“Woah,” Colin said.

One of the goats stomped past and Sky gulped. He pulled his sailcloth tighter around his shoulders for comfort and leaned even closer towards Colin.

“Are you scared?” Colin asked.

“A little,” Sky answered with a chuckle.

“What? How are you afraid of the goats?” Colin asked.

“We don’t have big animals like goats or horses where I’m from, besides our Loftwings. I get nervous around them.”

“Oh. Huh,” Colin mumbled. “You must be from really far.”

Sky laughed and nodded. “Really far,” he agreed.

Colin looked like he wanted to ask more questions, and Sky wasn’t sure how much Twilight wanted him to know, so he quickly changed the subject.

“From what your brother has said, it sounds like you’re a hero, too,” Sky said.

Colin blushed and straightened his back. “I- not like Link. I’m not the hero, or anything. But I did save my friend, once.”

“Oh yeah?” Sky asked.

“Mhm,” Colin mumbled. “I pushed her out of the way of a giant bullbos. It grabbed me instead of her.”

“That sounds pretty heroic to me,” Sky said. “And pretty scary.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Colin said. “Heroes don’t get scared. Link isn’t afraid of anything.”

Sky wasn’t willing to tarnish Colin’s image of Twilight, even if Sky knew his fears. More than once, Twilight had woken up panicked from nightmares and Sky was the one to comfort him. Twilight always worried over the others, so he tried to take care of them in whatever ways he could. And, most of all, Sky knew Twilight worried about his little brother.

“I get scared,” Sky said. “Sometimes. But being brave is about doing hard things even when you’re scared.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Colin said. His ears flattened against his head and the tips turned pink. His gaze was locked on the last goat running towards the barn.

“I believe you,” Sky said. “Thank you for telling me.”

The slam of the barn door startled Sky. Twilight fastened the lock then turned Epona to gallop over to where Sky and Colin were sitting. They both rose to their feet and Sky clapped for him.

“All in,” Twilight said.

“Yes!” Colin cheered.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Sky said. The tips of Twilight’s ears turned pink as he jumped off his horse with a wide grin.

“It ain’t hard, once you learn how to do it,” Twilight said, his accent thick.

Twilight’s accent was stronger in the last few days of being in Ordon than Sky had heard throughout their entire journey. Sky wondered if he realized, or if it was subconscious. Sky also worried he was toning it down on purpose around them. He would have to make sure to ask Twilight about that, later.

“Tomorrow, we should take Sky to feed the goats,” Colin said.

Sky blinked in surprise. “What?”

Twilight grinned and slung an arm around Colin’s shoulder. Colin pretended to look annoyed, but Sky didn’t miss the way he leaned into Twilight’s side.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Twilight said. “Our Skyloftian isn’t too fond of ‘em.”

“That’s why we have to show him how to feed them! They always let me pet them when they get their food,” Colin said.

Twilight glanced uncertainly towards Sky, clearly torn between not wanting to push Sky and appeasing his brother. Sky swallowed his fear and pulled back his shoulders.

“I’d love to join,” Sky said. “Besides, you won’t let anything happen to me. Right, Colin?”

“Of course not!” Twilight said. “You’ve got the two heroes of Hyrule right here! You’ll be perfectly safe.”

Colin beamed up at his brother as Twilight squeezed his shoulder. Sky held back an awww with monumental effort.

“We best be heading back now,” Twilight said.

“Oh! Oh! Can I take Epona?” Colin asked.

“Sure you can, so long as you’re careful,” Twilight said.

“Yes!” Colin said. He was able to pull himself into Epona’s saddle, though Twilight’s hands hovered just in case he fell.

“Hyah!” Colin yelled as he flicked Epona’s reins. She galloped towards the gate and jumped over at the last second, then thundered down the path. Sky and Twilight followed at a much more leisurely pace.

“Thanks for comin’,” Twilight said. “I like to give Fado the night off, when I can.”

Sky glanced over and saw the beginnings of a gratitude crystal forming over Twilight’s head. Sky felt a warmth spread through him. He knew how much spending time together meant to Twilight.

“Thanks for asking me to. I’ve never seen goats before,” Sky said. “And talking to your brother was nice.”

“Thanks for doing that, too,” Twilight said. The beginnings of the crystal pulsed, doubling in size. “He doesn’t meet strangers often.”

“He’s a cool kid,” Sky said.

“You really want to feed the goats tomorrow?” Twilight asked.

Sky shrugged. “Sure. Colin seemed excited about it. And I know how much you love your goats, farm boy.”

Twilight laughed and the gratitude crystal burst to life above Twilight’s head. Sky laughed along with him as the crystal floated down to his chest and filled him with his favorite feeling of warmth. Sky bounced on his toes and skipped a few paces, then bounced back next to Twilight.

Sky reached out and grabbed Twilight's hand, loosely enough that he could pull away if he wanted to. Twilight was never one to deny physical touch, in Sky’s experience. Twilight squeezed his hand and gave Sky a wide smile as Sky swung their arms.

“The goats may look big and scary, but they’d never hurt a fly,” Twilight said. “Just don’t try to take their food.”

“Noted,” Sky said with a happy laugh.

#thank you all for all the ideas on the last part!!#I am planning on using a few of them #and even if I dont use them I love seeing them #so feel free to add more ideas here!#twilight's love languages are acts of service and quality time #ace writes #linked universe #lu sky #lu twilight #lu colin #he's so cute guys #gratitude #i accidentally wrote sky as autistic #so im leaning into it now #autistic sky #I just can't imagine him NOT happy stimming when he receives a gratitude crystal

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 4 months

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Winter Springs bring Summer Flings

Okay, so, this is another request I managed to find, I'm very late on it and I'm so sorry for that, but I hope that you enjoy it.

@twola requested Arthur and reader in Cotorra Springs....kind of a hot tub, if you really think about it, to just see where things went.

Another NSFW one, and again I might be a little rusty on it, so, please, be patient with me as we go!

I hope y'all enjoy it!

Warnings: Female reader, NSFW 18+, swearing, and you know, typical 1899 things.

The further north you headed the colder it seemed to get.

Common knowledge really, you expected it, you'd dressed properly, packed properly, for the colder weather, the chilly air as you and your travel partner continued to move northern.

Arthur was a quiet guy, when he wanted to be of course, sarcastic and witty, but quiet when he wanted to be quiet.

You felt something towards him, something that you really didn't feel like sharing with him, it wasn't worth the rejection in your eyes.

Arthur felt something for you himself, and much like you, he didn't quite want to be rejected by someone he cared so deeply about.

He loved hanging out with you, usually it was you he asked to come along with him when he needed to get something done.

It's typical for the two of you to take trips like the one you're on now, leaving camp behind for days at a time, just the two of you.

You sigh to yourself as you continue to walk alongside Arthur on his horse, looking around.

Cotorra Springs.

You'd only been up here a handful of times, it was a nice enough place, a little spot of heaven in the cold. The hot springs were so warm, you'd often camped there to retain a bit of heat.

In fact the idea sparks in you as you look over at Arthur.

"Hey cowboy, it's nearly five, let's just take a rest here, we can camp for the night, and the hot springs'll keep us warm."

"But we can make plenty of time yet before dark..."

"Oh c'mon Arthur...please? For me? The water's hot and it's gonna be freezing the further up we go, this could be our last chance to be warm for a bit."

Arthur heaves a sigh, one you're used to hearing when you realize that you've won the argument.

"Alright...Okay, we'll settle here for tonight."

He gives a quiet laugh and turns his horse to the springs and leads the two of you towards them.

The two of you begin to set up your little camp for the night on the edge of the springs.

Two tents, as well as the fire all put into place, and before you realize it you're both settled comfortably.

You smile as you sit across from him at the fire.

Arthur smiles himself as he quietly pokes the fire, making some coffee for himself.

"So Arthur...What exactly are we heading up to Amberino for? And why are we taking such a roundabout way?"

"Toldja, there's a rare white Arabian up there, I've seen it, and I want you to help me catch it. Not albino like Dutch's this is WHITE."

"Okay...and we went the long way because?"

"I wanted to spend some more time away from camp. Dutch's been drivin' me nuts lately."

You laugh and give a nod of understanding as he continues to make his coffee.

After a while of sitting you decide to take a dip in the springs.

The hot water'll do wonders on your back, and you could use yourself a little wash as it is.

"Alright...I'm gonna go and clean up, okay Arthur?"

"Alright, make sure you don't wander too far."

"Of course."

You smile and then stand, patting his shoulder as you walk past him.

Luckily this far up in the woods no one really comes by the springs.

You get far enough away from Arthur that he can't easily see you strip and you get into the water.

You heave a sigh as you sink into the hot water, your back seems to scream in agony as you fully submurge.

The water is clear, almost crystal, and it's incredibly relaxing.

You close your eyes, leaning your head back against the dirt as you let the water wash over you.

Now the only thing you needed to worry about was getting scared by the gysers nearby.

You sit quietly for quite a while, your eyes closed and head back as you rest in the water.

It's not until you hear Arthur's voice that you're eyes shoot open.

"Jesus Christ woman!"

Your eyes spring open and you look up to see Arthur standing above you, his hand covering his eyes.

"I thought you were washin' your face or somethin! I didn't realize you were strippin'! Christ!"

"Oh c'mon Arthur...I'm not that ugly right?"

"No it's the oposite problem there Princess."

You feel your face redden as he says princess and you shuffle in the water.

"C'mon...get in with me, it's got plenty of room...the water is hot, it'd probably do a lot to help your back...."

"I ain't gettin' naked in there with you! I didn't even mean to see ya-"

"Arthur, it's not bothering me..."

Arthur sighs and you watch as he puts his hand on his hip and keeps the other over his eyes.

"A little warning would have been nice at least."

"I told you I went to wash up."

He sighs and finally moves his hand, but he looks up to the sky rather than you.

"I'll...close your eyes...I'll...I'll get in."

"Arthur, the water's clear I'll see it anyway."

He groans but starts to strip down.

"You don't have to do it Arthur. I'm just suggesting. It might really help you."

"I know you're right...it's why I'm doin' it."

You do your best to give him at least a little privacy and look away as he sets his clothes down next to the spring and climbs in.

As reluctant as he was to get into the water the groan of relief as he settles in is a dead give away that he was happy with the decision.

"Feeling a little better there, Cowboy?"

"Ain't had a bath this hot in years."

"Hard to get the water this hot and keep it hot. Natural Hot Springs, they're really nice to take a dip in every so often. I do it every time I pass through here."

"Might have to start doin' it myself, if it's this helpful."

You offer a smile at him and then look up again as the sky starts to slowly darken.

"Might stay in here until the stars come out really."

"Nice and warm in here. Can't blame you for wantin' too...even if I did think you were crazy for gettin' ass naked."

You smile and the two of you grow quiet again.

It's only a few moments before you decide that...now could be the time, the right time, for you to finally mention what you feel for him.

You scoot a little closer, until your hip touches his, and you can see the way his face reddens, at both the touch and the fact that the water does not conceal any secrets.

"So...Arthur...I...Um....I think...maybe this is long overdue but...I want you to know that you mean....an awful lot to me...I'm...well quite frankly I'm very sweet on you."

Arthur seems to think about this a moment, trying to keep his eyes on yours , though you can't help but notice when his eyes drift downwards.

"I'm...I'm pretty sweet on you too, if I'm honest Y/N...Just...ain't never had the courage to tell you."

You smile and decide to take a chance. You let your hand graze his thigh beneath the water.

"Y/N...I'd stop there, if you aren't sure...If you start me up I don't think it'll be very easy for me to stop."

You smile at him, and move, straddling yourself over his lap as the water hits your shoulders.

"That's okay with me, so long as it's okay for you cowboy...I meant what I said. I've cared for you for a very long time..."

Arthur looks at you for a moment, a look in his eyes that seems to be torn between something of lust and yet a hesitancy.

After a few more seconds he decides what he wants and your lips crash together.

You can feel his hands come to your hips as yours go over his shoulders, your hands interlocking as they reach his back.

He kisses you as if it's the last time he'll get to do so, heavy and fast, his hands possesively grasping at your hips, pulling you even tighter against him.

He was already half hard when you straddled him, you could feel him as he pressed against you, it sent shivers through you.

He was kind of big, in all honesty. It excited you.

You let one of your hands cup the side of his neck, and pull away, only to kiss his neck, rather than his lips.

He gives a soft groan and his hand moves towards your ass, and his grip tightens as he pulls you close.

You lick his neck, towards his jaw, and Arthur seems to enjoy it far more than what you expected him to.

"Y/N...Princess...please..."

You kiss his neck again, to listen to the groan that leaves his mouth, it's fantastic. Low, growly almost, and yet at the same time it sounds...whiny.

You keep this up, his other hand moving to your inner thigh, squeezing it he seems to be trying to hold back.

You decide it's best to help him out a bit.

You reach between the two of you, and find his cock, gently you hover slightly, and position him as you settled down onto him.

He moans as you do, doing his best to not buck at the feeling.

"Fuck...fuck...Y/N...Y/N please....It's been a while..."

"It's alright Arthur...it's okay...I promise I'll have fun regardless,"

Arthur manages a chuckle, and his hands move back to your hips, eager for you to start moving.

You take that as your que and gently rock your hips against him, watching as he tilts his head back after a little while, sighing as you move.

His hands grip your hips and he guides you the way he needs. Down, back, and up, repeat.

Down, back, up, repeat.

His hands feel massive against your thighs, and pair that with the sensation of his lips against your chest and neck, you feel just as happy as he is.

You moan quietly, softly as the two of you find a rhythm together, Arthur moving his hips with you.

"Y/N...Wish I'd told you a long time ago how I felt...You feel so good...."

He groans against your skin, kissing your neck fervently.

"I should have said something..."

You mumble out, your hands on his shoulders tightening slightly.

Arthur's only response is to push his face further into your neck, leaving kisses there.

"Arthur..."

You murmur his name, moving yourself a little faster as the two of you keep up your movements.

The fast pace was the right decision, Arthur's pace moves faster too, bucking up into you, as he does his best to quiet down.

His lips go over your neck, your chest, licking, sucking, biting, making you moan.

It's not much longer of this before you feel yourself nearing the end.

You shove your forehead against his shoulder, moaning his name as you clench your thighs, around him as his hands squeeze your backside.

He's soon after, his hips erratic as he groans deeply and leans his own head back, covered in sweat as his thrusts get weaker and weaker.

Finally he stops, breathing hard, you are too.

"Christ Darlin'...That's...I guess maybe we should start doin' that more on these trips."

"I think that's a wonderful Idea."

"Yeah, you would. You only keep me around for my shockingly good looks."

"Oh shut up Arthur."

PLEASE FORGIVE ME IM STILL TRYNA GET BACK INTO THE SWING OF THINGS

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader

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morallyinept · 4 months

Text

What a year it's been for fic writing!⭐️

There have been soooo many stories I've read and enjoyed this year, that's it's been super hard to pick favourites, and I've spent a good amount of time this year trying to narrow it down to just 25.

Listen, every single story I've read this year has been absolutely amazing. I am blown away by the sheer amount of talent and creativity we have in this fandom!

If you're not featured here on this particular list, it's not because I don't like your work or didn't enjoy it - far from it. I've simply put together a list of my personal favourites this year, based on how they made me feel, how often I re-read them, and some that have completely floored me.

And if you want more than just the 25 fic recs I've mentioned here, then please check out my Pedro Character Fav Fic Rec List where all the stories I've read/want to read and come across are featured. My TBR is through the roof, let me tell you, but it's a great problem to have!

And if your story isn't on my fic rec list, it's more than likely because I haven't found your work yet, so please yell at me to check it out! I'd absolutely love to!

Keep on writing, writers. You're all amazing!

So, without further ado, please find my top 25 Pedro Character Fics that I've really enjoyed reading this year! 🖤

☝️In no particular order, and includes a summary from the writer, where provided. Some series may still be ongoing. Please check the specific triggers/warnings on each story individually as some may not be suitable to your tastes:

• I Am Touchin', I Am Grabbin', Everything I Can't Be Havin' - @chronically-ghosted Dieter Bravo "A storm and a dead phone leaves you at the front door of your uncle’s mansion in LA. Thing is, you haven’t seen each other in over a decade and neither of you quite remember the other one looking like that. But what’s one night gonna do? Well, as it turns out – as Dieter spirals at a breaking point in his career and you’re so lost in life you can’t see up from down – a whole fucking lot."

• Rock Bottom Series - @ghostofaboy Frankie Morales "Frankie is spiraling after Tom’s death. Drugs lead to some unhealthy friendships, and too ashamed to reach out to his former teammates for help, Frankie is drawn into a world he’s afraid he can’t get out of."

• Palomino Series - @fuckyeahdindjarin Agent Whiskey "Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you’d booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need."

• Stepwise @the-scandalorian Din Djarin "Requests for both soft and smutty touch-starved head canons spiraled out of control and became this."

• It Pours From Your Eyes - @the-blind-assassin-12 Joel Miller "Some things don't need to be said. Until they do."

• Transplant Series - @marisferasiop Joel Miller & Ezra "You are a resident and the only trained doctor in Jackson. You're bubbly and sweet, outgoing and friendly, and also in an unlabeled "situationship" with the town scrooge, Joel Miller. He won't say you're together, but he'll scare anyone else off. When Tommy drags back a half-dead man and girl from a patrol, you dutifully patch them up and help them settle into their new slotted house - across Rancher Street from yours and Joel's houses. Ellie and Cee get on like a bonfire, and when Joel sees how often you talk to your newest patient, his insecurities make him draw up and away from you. As you slowly give up on him and start something with Ezra, Joel's pining turns to frustration. Tommy convinces him to see if you'd be interested in being a throuple. Surprisingly, you and Ezra are both open to the idea. But can Joel's insecurities and possessiveness withstand such an arrangement? Or will the blow of another loss be what finally breaks him?"

• I'll Know It When I See It Series - @bageldaddy Joel Miller "It's the golden age of porn. Sex and sin are the national pastime. Your career in adult films starts opposite a man who goes by the name Texas."

• Compulsion Series - @iamskyereads Ezra "Beatrice is a Drifter, a member of that oft-maligned, enigmatic subsection of workers on Baylor Corporation’s long haul expeditions. Ezra is a man with flowery language and a dark past, but he plays guardian to a strong willed, soft spoken teenager. In a madcap scheme to steal precious gems from the corporation’s mining operations, Ezra and his ward, Cee, form a reluctant alliance with this lone Drifter."

• Left In Lincoln Series - @toxicanonymity Joel Miller "After you were orphaned by the Outbreak, Bill and Frank raised you, sheltered in their closed community. Now 21+, you're still inexperienced. They leave to get treatment for Frank and ask Joel to look in on you while they're gone. The town begins to creep you out, but Joel is glad to provide comfort and protection."

• Summer Schooled Series - @boliv-jenta Dave York & Joel Miller "Needing some cash before college, you start babysitting for Mr Miller and Mr York. When you decide to spend the summer teasing them. They decide you need to be taught some lessons."

• I Urge You, Bite Me - @netherfeildren Joel Miller "Sometimes love hurts like a split nail, and sometimes we like it like that. Sometimes Joel hurts like a split nail, you like him like that too."

• Sex Worker Frankie Series - @prolix-yuy Frankie Morales "Francisco “Catfish” Morales, a former sex worker at Pope’s escort service, takes on a final client and is met with something unexpected."

• Said The Spider To The Fly - @blueeyesatnight The Thief No summary provided by author, and I won't spoil it, however this is an awesome little fic which I urge you to check out if you haven't already!

• Catalyst Series - @ezrasbirdie Frankie Morales & Joel Miller "You've been nursing a crush on one of your closest friends, Frankie Morales, for a year now. At his 40th birthday party, you finally meet his new friend and neighbor, Joel Miller, who Frankie hasn't been able to stop talking about. You hit it off a little too well."

• Just A Piece - @palioom - Dave York "Dave only married you to keep his life as a hitman hidden. But when he comes home one day to you having cooked one of his childhood meals, he is doubting if he only married you out of necessity."

• This Charming Man - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin Frankie Morales "Frankie’s wife kicks him out and files for divorce following a second trip to retrieve their money. He feels lost and hopeless until he meets someone new. He falls hard and fast for her. He’ll do anything to have her."

• Lemon Cakes & Lust - @thetriumphantpanda Oberyn Martell "Just a lowly kitchen girl, that’s all you were. A life of struggle behind you, masked by the facade of the palace. A tray of lemon cakes holds your fate with Prince Oberyn and you are only too happy to oblige his wanting of you."

• Headshots Series - @secretelephanttattoo Marcus Pike "You're a photographer and you get a job working for the FBI, taking corporate headshots."

• Starving Season Series - @wannab-urs Dave York "You and Dave York are two people with nothing left in this world. You find yourselves starving for each other, trying to fill whatever void you each have in yourselves."

• Akrasia - @sp00kymulderr Ezra "Ezra quarantine smut that focuses much less on the lockdown and much more on the smut."

• Sequins - @trulybetty Joel Miller "On a night out with friends, you run into a broad-shouldered stranger and there's no denying that there's an immediate attraction between the two of you."

• Kill Shot Series - @magpiepills Ezra "A lonesome prospector comes face to face with a dangerous stranger. What happens when you can’t resist his charm?"

• Send In The Clown - @covetyou Dieter Bravo "You lose your scarf on a visit to the carnival. Send in Dieter Bravo - washed up actor turned circus clown."

• Precious Possessions Series - @exquisiteserotonin Dave York "Work conferences were supposed to be boring. A meeting with a mysterious man sets your life on a very different trajectory."

• Rumour Has It Series - @senorabond Marcus Pike & Javier Pena "You've recently transferred from a promising job in D.C. to Texas when DEA Special Agent Javier Peña approaches you with his current case. Rumor has it you have an in with the FBI art crimes unit, and the DEA could use your skills and connections on a suspected narcos money laundering case. You need to do well on this case to prove yourself, but you're not sure Marcus Pike will even help after the way you left."

Thank you so much to all the writers for writing such amazing stories this year!

⭐️And as a bonus, I've picked a fic from my own writing that I feel is my absolute favourite piece that I've written this year:

The Pit - Ezra - "Ezra and you stumble into an ominous pit on a prospecting mission for coveted azure diamonds on the Narillan moon, and find more than you bargain for."

🖤

PEDRO CHARACTER FAV FIC REC MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #javier pena #frankie morales #ezra prospect #dieter bravo #agent whiskey #marcus pike #dave york #comandante veracruz #oberyn martell #din djarin #jett's fic recs #jett's top 25 fic recs of 2023

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fastlikealambo · 4 months

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burn for you: coriolanus snow x black!fem reader regency au

summary: notorious rake coriolanus snow, duke of districtshire, must marry or face financial ruin. he sets his sights on you, an extremely wealthy woman in your own right and what transpires over one year told in 4 acts will change both their lives.

this is a sample chapter, please interact, comment or reblog if you would like to see the full chapter.

@rosewine-5

@saturnville

Act One: Autumn

Just before the first leaves fell, Crassus Snow, the former Duke of Districtshire, died beneath the warm thighs of a chambermaid, a simple fact that brought joy to His Grace, Coriolanus Snow, his son and the new Duke of Districtshire every single time he thought about it.

The social season had begun and from his rooms in The Corso, he could see that the entire street had begun preparations for The Plinth Ball to open the season. Sejanus would be arriving soon to go over strategy for a successful social event but Coriolanus wasn’t the least bit worried, in fact he was annoyed.

He was a duke now, his name was on several ladies’ dance cards, he had an entire legion of staff and a village at his disposal, the world should have been his for the taking. But with his new title came his father’s old debts and the bastard loved to spend.

His Grace Coriolanus Snow, Duke of Districtshire, was flat fucking broke.

A knock at the door interrupted Coryo’s dream of a new cravat and with the arrival of his grandmother and cousin, his annoyance only grew with whatever Grandma’am was about to pester him with.

“Coryo,I fixed the buttons on your jacket for the ball, pearls from the guest room curtains worked perfectly. I need to see it on you, make sure it fits like it’s supposed to.” Tigris said

Coryo was only happy to oblige as his most beloved cousin moving back in with them after his father died had been the only bright spot in weeks. Slipping into the tailcoat, he looked in the mirror, admiring Tigris’ work.

Above all, he would look every inch the duke his father never was even if he only had a bit of cabbage and cold mutton to break his fast all day.

“It’s wonderful,Tigris, thank you.” Coriolanus said truthfully, happy to see her smile while Grandma’am continued to look dour.

“I had a letter from Lord Highbottom. He purchased the country estate without any warning and he intends to buy this home, our ancestral home, within a year if we do not pay what your father owed him for investing in his peasant child fighting establishment failure. You must marry well and marry now, Coriolanus! Do you wish me to be the laughingstock of the gardening society?”

Grandma’am rather melodramatically threw herself onto the nearest settee, sobbing into a handkerchief while Tigris patted her back and gave her cousin an apologetic look.

No.

He did not wish to marry, not when there was fun to be had, that was something for a later date of his choosing, not in his first months of dukedom.

If it took selling off a prized horse or two, so be it.

Absolutely not, not happening.

“You know my grandson, Coriolanus? He’s very much on the hunt for a suitable bride tonight! There’s not a young lady in all of Panem that wouldn’t want the title of Duchess and my grandson on their arm.”

Grandma’am’s voice unfortunately carried throughout the Plinth ballroom and it took everything in Coryo to not jump through the nearest window and to a brothel where his coin was far more interesting than his title.

“Cheer up Your Grace, you’re scaring your potential brides.” Clemensia Dovecote quipped, stealing the champagne flute from him with a smile.

“Is it really that obvious, Clemmie?”

“You look like you were bit by several snakes. Come dance with me unless you’d like to be set upon by overeager mamas in the next sixty seconds?”

Coriolanus could see Grandma’am leading an army towards him and joined the quadrille without a second thought.

All he had to do was pick the most agreeable one with the biggest dowry and their money problems would be settled with no more interference from Highbottom.

He could buy all the cravats he wanted.

No.

He was still a duke and dukes did whatever they wanted and at this moment he wanted a drink, not a duchess.

Yet as he made his way to the nearest servant, the sound of double doors opening made him stop and everyone in the ballroom cease talking and dancing.

You.

You walked through the double doors, a masterpiece for all to gaze upon and immediately every thought of leaving early left Coriolanus’ mind.

Perhaps there was fun to be had this evening.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x black!reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #regency au

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stardustpinkart · 2 months

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Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

"Can you do that again?" -------------------------------------------

Based on this cute lil fic I found on Tumblr :) Theres an abudance of Hazbin stuff at the mo, a lot of it really good!

Its nice to think how it might have been in the early days. I grew up catholic, schools and the like(though we didnet really go to church or anything) so I know a few bits. The basic stories, Adam and eve, etc. I believe Lucifer was gods most beloved angel, even had a diffrent name, untill he fell. And that supposedly it hurt him terribly when his beloved angel did.

So since Hazbin already has an alternate lore, what REALLY happened in the beggining. I'm sure Adam would be a lot more innocent to begin with, more pleasant, after all, being nearly made, exploring LIFE. The worst aspects maybe came later especially if heaven and its angels overlypraised him, "Adam could do NOTHING wrong", which led to his arrongance and rudeness and cruelty. Perhaps in the beggining, Lucifer and Adam were even friends? It was later events that changed all that.

There is NO sexual themes here, just that of COURSE, Adam and Eve were naked in the garden. They coevered themsleves in leaves in shame after eating the fruit of knowledge right?

I was stumped for colours cuz, they do seem to vary. Like, Sir pentious, his new form was a lot less scary and threatening in heaven. SO I figured, when he was still alive and just starting in the world, he would have a more mortal colour scheme yeah? As would Lucifer have a softer angelic colour scheme back then

I really enjoyed drawing this :)

#artwork #fanart #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #before they were enemies #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel adam #adam #tickling #play tickling #soft tickles #play tickles #tickle #tickles #fluffy

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scintillyyy · 6 days

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can i say something. i am kind of scared to say something bc dick ship wars kind of scare me even though i have absolutely no preference and care extremely little about dick ships. but. hm. the thinking about 80s and 90s medias as products of their time got me thinking a bit.

so. the interesting thing to me about dick-kory in the 70s and 80s vs dick-babs in the 90s and early 00s os how much each of those couples was entrenched in the media ideals of the time and what people were looking for in a ship.

so like, if you look at dick-kory, theirs is a larger than life love that is destined from the moment she kissed him to learn human language. and theirs is a dynamic and relationship dripping in the popular soap opera tropes that were very pervasive a the time. you can't actually divorce their tribulations (dick being kind of condescending to kory as the Man of the relationship, she's a princess who has to get married for political reasons and dick gets mad, kory gets mad at him for supposedly cheating when he was raped by mirage, the epic wedding that gets literally blown up by raven to name a few) from the media norms that were very popular. they fight passionately and make up passionately very frequently. this is a very common dynamic in the 80s, where soap operas were topping the charts. everyone was watching general hospital. *30 million* people tuned in to see luke and laura get married and their relationship started with him raping her (which was later turned into "seduction") and they were considered like THE couple ever. everyone was watching dynasty. dallas was hugely popular. falcon crest. knots landing. dick and kory's relationship mirrors a lot of what people were eating up back then in the soap opera type media the new titans was emulating. luke and laura. gary and valene. bo and hope. bobby and pam. dick and kory. can you really talk about dick and kory if you don't know what was going on with "bope" back then? for reference, here's what was going on with bo and hope:

anyways. enter the 90s and the soap opera fervor died down in a massive way. soap operas were no longer prime time material and their popularity died down in a massive way & actually people started more making fun of the overwrought storylines and soaps in general. the ideas of destined, one true love was suddenly far more unappealing to people who thought it was cheesy & tired. what people in the 90s were looking for was not true love that is constantly tested and put through the wringer--what was gaining in popularity was UST and will they won't they dynamics. enter dick-babs. and while i wholly disagree with the idea of diminishing kory's importance in dick's life just to uplift babs, i don't entirely disagree with the notion that kory probably wouldn't have really worked in batbooks, so i understand why batbooks wanted to focus on a loveline for dick for a character they had full control of and could work into the stories. and, hm. moving dick away from the destined one true love at the time that was kory allowed them to put him in the romantic situations that 90s audiences were vibing with instead. because you can't suddenly do a will they won't they with a couple who's been solidly dating for *years*. so with dick and babs you're able to do that. he's interested while she's dating someone else. he flirts with someone else for a bit while she's single. while the entire time they're still good working partners while circling around each other. will they? or won't they? and this was super common in late 90s/early 00s sitcom shows that people loved and were at the top of the charts. the x-files with scully and mulder. friends with rachel and ross. fran and mr. sheffield from the nanny. it's still very much playing to what people wanted to see back then.

anyways as someone who truly has no horse in this race i do think media norms of the time around couplings are interesting to dissect.

#anyways i think you can make similar comparisons to bruce-talia and bruce-selina #in that o'neil had created talia as this grand epic love for bruce #in the 80s but under his editorial directorship in the 90s there was still a move away from bruce-talia to instead focus more #on the more flirty bruce-selina dynamic in accordance with what the viewers at home wanted #anyways. just some thoughts of mine.#i do think there is a push in media once again towards the romanticism of destined lovers

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thesmpisonfire · 9 months

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Okay so, I wanna talk about my sonboy Richas, my guy Felps, their relationship, and everything about yesterday as well

So, lets go :D

First thing, Felps actually really don't like taking care of Richas when he's without his armor

Felps has the terrible memory of being the one (together with Cellbit) to watch Richas first death. The three were at a cave and Felps and Cellbit were taken down first and had to watch Richas getting swarmed and die far from their grasp

The death was reverted, but still, when Felps logged in next time, Richas had JUST died to the bull again, so he already had 1 life. It was the very same day, just a couple hours after. Felps always reinforced about the armor, to the point he didn't let Richas take it off even when safe at Foolishs place when he could see Leo didn't wear it

Felps fucking loves that kid, he's just the quieter dad. He won't scream that much, when he panics, he shuts down and focus on the problem. He's the best dad to talk about feelings and often is the one who talks Richas out of his spiraling self deprecating thoughts, while other dads don't have the same touch

Felps has the patience to talk with Richas and hear Richas points. He always is the one talking him into a shower even if it takes a whole trip beforehand so Richas can have fun before it. He sings a lil song to get him through a shower. Ever since he came back from the lab, he trusts Richas a lot with his own strength, he knows Richas can defend himself even better than Felps can defend himself

It means a lot that Felps is the only dad Richas will listen to more easily, even if sometimes it takes a lot of talk and bargain to do so. Richas is a difficult kid, he channels all his sadness and pain into being silly and overly courageous, which means he will be a disobedient kid, he will put himself in danger, he won't listen to his dads if he can make a joke about it and it has been getting worse lately

Richas is Not doing okay, he's constantly scared of losing the ones he love, he feels easily replaceable which makes him panic and act out in 'jealousy'. He has said before he fears his siblings don't really like him and it's why he always wants to have family around, he knows he's a problem and has even apologized to Bad about it once. He thinks he can't express his love through words when he has written so many beautiful things, he paints bc its how he thinks he can better translate his care

Yesterday, after Bad took him and Felps to the graveyard and out of it, Richas went back with Felps and put some flowers around their graves. A small talk started when Felps wondered if the dead eggs were looking down at them, but also couldn't really believe it because they'd be too far up there to actually see anything. Richas then said how people used to tell him Bobby was up in between the stars, but they stopped telling him that 'story'. Then, this talk happened

"Do you think they'd [Dead eggs Richas never met] like me?"

"Ofc they would! Everyone loves you! They'd love you, Richas"

"If I had died today, would I meet them?"

Felps goes quiet for a couple seconds here, then goes back to talking

"Maybe, maybe not. We can never be sure, Richas. What if you died and it's just nothing after, huh? It's a big bet. You can't keep thinking like that and then go throw yourself in front of a zombie horse to find out if they're at the other side"

"Yeah, I wouldn't be able to annoy all the dads, it wouldn't be worth it... I'd miss you all so much" (He used the word saudade)

"Awwn... But you would be dead, Richas. We would be the ones missing you, we would be the ones staying behind"

And to me this is a very telling moment. Because Richas didn't realize people would miss him as well, he just thought about how he'd miss being with the others. He also says how he'd be in hell, missing his family but also laughing at tragedy. When Felps asks why hell, Richas goes "You really think I'd end up in heaven? With the way I am?"

Felps spends the rest of the stream hyping Richas up, telling him how much he's loved and how much everyone cares for him. Felps manages to get through Richas after a while, and they have a nice moment together. Richas already arrived to the square without armor, after having recently argued with Forever about it, and Felps didn't mind bc that area was all lightened up so less mobs were spawning, plus the aforementioned trusts he has on Richas

No one expected the horse because it came from outside the square, right out the border, and literally fell on top of them. Felps was quick to go after it, and Richas was caught out of surprise and got height damage as well, eating through 2 totems (and also having to switch out the other ones from his hand due to the rule)

Felps was smart about the horse, he always hit up high so there wouldn't be any risk of a misclick, he hit crit after crit pushing the horse away so he could better kill it without risking Richas, and he did it! I understand BBHs scare but everything was already solved and Richas was halfway being revived already

If anything, the trip to the cemetery scared Felps more than it did Richas. Richas is well used to the threat of death, he plays with it by jumping into mines and purposefully walking without armor around Forever. But Felps isn't. He wants his kid safe, he wants him alive. Felps was willing to never come back if it meant Richas could have an extra life, he would die over and over for that kid

After everything, he talked with Richas, and the kid didn't rlly need to be convinced to wear his armor now that he knew how the square can be tricky. Felps didn't need to yell, or compare Richas to anyone, or play lil games. Just a talk, and Felps' trust that Richa would now do his part, and he did!

Each mob they encountered next, Richas and Felps stayed side by side. Felps let Richas kill them first bc he knows Richas likes it, but always helping and telling him how he was doing it well. When they were rowing around later in the boat, music playing, Felps went on about how it was all that mattered

Richas was alive, Felps was alive, they got a scare but they were okay now. And it was all worth it for these calm, happy moments. These were the ones that should be remembered, the ones that made it all worth it

#qsmp #felps #q!richarlyson

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the-karma-cafe · 20 days

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Medium honor Arthur picks up character but it’s for a crime she didn’t do! Oh and outdoorsy love stuff

a/n: omg ok i dont know what you mean by outdoorsy love stuff is that SEX or is that FLUFF (im giving you both) thank you for the request !!

warnings: DID NOT PROOFREAD, sex (hell no !!!), spanking, he's a little mean but not really (as medium honor usually goes), mildly dubious consent

It was the age-old story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When I discovered Mrs. Braithwaite on the floor一thick, wine-red blood pooled beneath her chest一I’d barely had a second to react before one of her sons screamed, tackling me to the ground. His fingers were bruising against my arms, shaking me, asking what the fuck was the matter with me, telling me I’d fucking swing for this.

I don’t even remember how I got away from him, slamming something into his skull and breaking free from that iron grip, leaping off the balcony without a second thought.

It was only miles away on one of their prized horses did it finally hit me that whatever case I’d had to defend myself with was long gone. I wouldn’t be able to show my face in Rhodes again一or really anywhere else一with a high-profile family like the Braithwaites on my ass.

I kept riding further north, hoping to put as much distance between me and that damn corpse as possible. Of all the people, it had to be her, and it had to be me.

By the time I reached Valentine, I’d felt more sorry for myself than I had in a long time. Thanked my lucky stars I always kept my money on me and bought some supplies there to… well, live on the lam, I supposed.

But for the first couple nights, I moped. Stayed in the saloon every morning and the hotel every night一not much else to do in a livestock town.

When I felt a bit better, I sold the Braithwaite horse. It was big and proud and all sorts of attention-grabbing. I bought a different one一drab and small, but fast.

Sooner than I thought, the news had travelled. A new bounty poster was slapped right on the wooden post outside the saloon, my sketchy reflection glaring back at me. MURDEROUS MAID.

I pursed my lips. They could’ve spared me the alliteration.

Tore it down, stuffed it in my bag, and left town. Wouldn’t take long for a small town like Valentine to put two and two together.

The bounty was nothing to sneeze at. I was almost flattered. Wanted alive, $500. I figured it’d take a lot to deter bounty hunters from $500, so I took to the mountains. It was likely just a matter of time, but by god was I going to make them work for it.

Now, here I was, having found some barn to hole up in, next to the remains of a torched homestead (I’d briefly picked through it and rescued a dented can of peaches and a lock box holding some fancy necklace). Would’ve preferred the house, but shelter was shelter. Peaches (affectionately named after said can) seemed to like it in here, at least.

“You want one, boy?” I held one out to where he sat a foot or so away from me. For only having just met me, he was a sweet horse, resting his head on my lap while I slept, following me around while I hunted (although I quickly found he loved to scare off game, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to just stay put, goddammit).

Peaches leaned his big head forward and sniffed at the proffered fruit. To my surprise, he snorted and turned away from it, flicking back his ears and giving me a severe side-eye. “What!” I laughed, bringing it back away from him. “Now you tell me.”

He huffed out of his nose, like it should have been quite obvious, thank you very much. I giggled and continued to eat, idly watching the flame flicker in one of the lanterns hung from the ceiling.

I eventually drifted off to sleep, still not any closer to figuring out my future than I was a month ago.

The next morning, I ventured back into the wilderness to hunt. So far, I’d been a bit less successful than I’d hoped, but I had done well enough for myself.

I breathed out slowly, my arm steadily following the movements of a buck a couple yards away. My breath puffed out white in front of me, warming my nose. This was the closest I’d ever gotten to game this big.

The buck lowered its head, nosing past the snow to the damp grass below. I kept my arrow aimed above, where I knew its head would return. A breath in. C’mon…

It raised its head, staring off to its right somewhere, and I stretched back the string, my grip still a bit wobbly against its force. Another breath out.

A whisk of air whooshed over me, and I startled, releasing my grip on the arrow. It flew a couple feet away before planting headfirst into the snow. Something forcibly tightened around my torso, crushing my arms against my sides. What the hell?! I yelped in surprise and wobbled from my perch, falling backwards.

My head dented the snow behind me, sending it down my collar and into my hair, freezing my neck and ears. “Ahh!” I struggled against the coil around me, simultaneously flinching away from the cold now assaulting my warm skin.

Footsteps crunched over to me, and an upside-down face and chest soon came into view. He looked down at me with a pleased expression on his face, or at least it seemed like it, it was hard to tell behind that high collar and tipped hat.

He rounded to my front and his gloved hands yanked at the rope, pulling me slightly up from the snow to face him better. He squinted at my face, now surely pinkened from the snow I could still see on my lashes. His chest rumbled with approval, and he nodded, more to himself than me. “Thought so.”

“What?” I exhaled, staring up at him dumbly.

He cracked a smile, and this time I could tell. “The murderous maid, I take it?”

My blood ran cold. Oh, fuck. I had almost forgotten, tucked away in this silent, snowy haven.

Apparently my expression was all it took to confirm things for him. His smile turned to a smirk and he tugged at the rope, bringing me up to stand. I instinctively pushed away from him, but he held me firmly to him, his arms thick and strong (my god this man was big). He looped the rope around me again before tying it securely at my front.

Then, he promptly threw me over his shoulder and began to walk.

“Let me go!!” I thrashed from my perch, kicking at him.

He growled and tightened his grip on my thighs. “Kick me again and I'll make you regret it, girl.”

A fearful whimper slipped past my lips and I stilled.

“That’s what I thought,” he grunted, but his grip didn’t loosen.

He whistled, loud and sharp, and I heard the familiar sound of hooves approaching. The image of Peaches by himself in the barn flitted through my head.

“Um, mister?” I whispered, my tone timid and polite. The tone I used to use with the Braithwaites.

He heaved a sigh, annoyed with me. “What.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to anger him further. “My… my horse. He’s in a barn nearby, I don’t want him to be stuck up here all by himself.”

He didn’t respond to that. I grimaced. If I’d kept the Braithwaite horse at least he would’ve saved it to sell it一Peaches was likely barely worth the walk to a man like him.

His horse slowed to a stop nearby, and the man none-too-gently threw me over its back. I winced, feeling its butt dig into my stomach.

The bounty hunter made quick work of me, tying my legs together and then securing me to his horse. He patted my thigh, “Comfy?” I could almost hear the smug look on his face.

“More ’n ever.” I grumbled, mostly to myself. He barked a laugh and pulled away from me, leaving me cold. He mounted up on his horse and began to ride.

I couldn’t see much from my “seat,” but I began to vaguely recognize the path he followed.

“Are you…” I started, my voice quiet. I turned my head to look up at him, and raised my voice. “Are you goin’ back for him?”

He didn’t answer, and made no move to indicate he had even heard me.

Not wanting to push my luck (or Peaches’), I stayed quiet.

Sure enough, we reached that barn and he dismounted. When he returned, Peaches was in tow, neighing happily when he saw me.

I laughed brightly despite the situation. “Hey, boy!!” The bounty hunter released his reins and Peaches bounded up to me, nuzzling and snorting into my hair wetly. I giggled and tried to move my head away. “Oh my god, Peaches, gross.”

“Peaches?” the man echoed, a note of disbelief coloring his tone.

I turned and smiled up at him. “What?”

He shook his head, gesturing to the horse. “Ain’t he a boah?”

“So?”

He snorted, but didn’t answer me, instead mounting back up on his horse. My smile faded from my face as we continued. My last days of freedom.

I stayed quiet as we rode, figuring that was the best way to get on his good side (I didn’t need to get smacked for yapping). The horse’s gait made me feel sick enough that I didn’t want to, anyway, its back poking into me, alternating between every corner of my stomach with each step.

Eventually, the snow began to taper off down the path, though a chill still hung in the air. I shivered, the back of my jacket still wet and cold against my neck. The sky was beginning to darken, subtly and colorlessly as winter skies often did.

Wordlessly, the bounty hunter turned us off the path and into the trees, likely seeking some spot to set up camp for the night. Peaches followed dutifully behind us, although he seemed to have sobered a bit, as if sensing my discomfort.

He must have found a spot he liked, as he dismounted and reached by my side for his tent and bedroll. He pulled them off and got to work setting everything up.

I felt my eyelids droop, my body finally able to relax with the horse stopped.

Not ten minutes later, I was jolted awake by hands grabbing me off of the horse and hoisting me up. I made a small noise of surprise in my throat, feeling him drop me back onto his shoulder, carrying me over to his makeshift camp. Truthfully, I had thought he’d just leave me on his horse for the night.

I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.

The bounty hunter dropped me to the ground by the fire, and I huffed, adjusting myself to sit upright. The warmth wafting off of it confirmed that this was definitely better than being stuck on that horse all night. I leaned closer to it, and made to bring my hands up, but was cruelly reminded of the ropes keeping them by my sides. I heaved a sigh.

A bottle appeared in my vision. I blinked down at it in confusion, before looking up at the man who held it. “Whiskey?” I prompted.

“If there’s any time to drink, it’d be now.” He nudged the lip of the bottle closer to my mouth.

I held his gaze for a moment longer before turning to it. “…Can’t argue with that.” I pressed my lips against it. He lightly tipped the bottle, letting a good mouthful flow past my lips. I choked it down, then another, then another, then another, before finally wrenching my face from it, coughing. “Jesus!”

He laughed, corking it and tucking it into his satchel. He knelt down behind me and I felt a pressure on the ropes before they snapped away. I brought my arms forward slowly, rubbing my hands over them. He stood and rounded the fire, plopping down on the other side of it. I looked up at him in confusion.

He grinned. “Gave you enough whiskey that even if you try to hop away,” He paused, his grin turning wolfish, “You won’t get far.” He stretched out languidly, finally allowing himself to relax.

Heat crept up my neck, flustered at his reasoning. “You just get all your bounties drunk?” I spluttered.

He shrugged.

I huffed, holding out my hands towards the fire to warm them. “Creep.”

“I ain’t the one goin’ around killin’ old ladies.” He retorted.

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. “I didn’t kill her!”

“Sure sounds like you did.”

I raked my hand through my hair. “Why the hell would I kill the woman payin’ me to live?” I met his gaze again.

He didn’t seem very sympathetic. Another shrug. “Lots of people wanna kill their boss.”

“Not me!”

He snorted. “I’m shoah.”

I shook my head at the fire, deflating. “I had it made working for her. Easy work, good pay, didn’t really have to talk to anyone, and,” I shrugged my shoulders, “best part of having a lady boss is she won’t let the men get away with being terrible to you.”

He stayed quiet, and I felt myself ramble more, “I mean, sure, she was a miserable old hag, mean ’n sour, but as long as you stayed out of her way and did your job, she was cordial enough.” The image of her on the ground flicked through my mind. “Shit.” I pressed my palms into my eyes, wiling them to cast it from my brain. “Can’t believe this is how it ends.”

The drink began to encroach further into my head, making my thoughts hazy. I cursed again under my breath, the reality of the situation truly, truly, settling in. This was it for me. Swinging from a rope for a crime I didn’t commit.

“You really didn’t do it.”

I scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Been sayin’ that, haven’t I?”

“…That you have.”

Silence fell between us once more, each left with our thoughts. It felt nice to be believed by at least one person before the end.

A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered, reminded of the wet coat I was still shrouded in. I glanced over the fire at the bounty hunter, but he didn’t look up, eyes hidden under his hat.

“...Mister?”

He raised his head, and that piercing gaze met mine. I faltered, almost losing my voice to it.

He heaved a great sigh. “…Arthur.”

“What?”

He sighed, raising his hat momentarily to rake a hand through his hair before placing it back down again. “Call me Arthur.”

I smiled softly in spite of myself. “Okay.”

“…And what did you need?” Arthur prompted, as I had already forgotten. Perhaps he was right about that whiskey.

I rubbed my hands on my arms. “Do you have any… drier clothes I could wear?”

He nodded, pushing up from the ground. I watched him make his way over to his saddlebag, watched him rifle through it for something dry.

It had to be the whiskey. Or that he was the first to believe me. Or that he was really the first person I’d seen in weeks.

His back was just so… broad. My eyes followed how the muscles underneath his shirt moved, following his arms’ movements. My mind helpfully supplied how one of those big arms felt wrapped around my thighs, how that big hand felt patting my thigh, so close to…

He turned around, and I forcefully muted my thoughts, spreading a polite smile on my face. He made his way back to me, some bunched up garment in hand. I began to shrug off my coat, struggling with it as it snagged on my undershirt and held tight to my shoulders.

Arthur watched me try to figure it out, but eventually I just gave up, so fatigued from the day that I just didn’t care anymore. He chuckled, kneeling down next to me. “Outsmart you, did it?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I’ll deal with it in a second,” I offered a small smile, “Thank you.”

“I got it,” he said, and at first I wasn’t sure what he meant. He dropped the coat in his hand and moved in front of me. I watched him wordlessly, suddenly feeling very tired of talking anyway.

Arthur’s eyes met my own for a moment, searching my face. Whatever he found there, he seemed satisfied with, and he moved his hands to the buttons of my jacket. He started from the top, unbuttoning each at an impossibly slow pace, or at least it felt like it.

He smoothed his hands up to my shoulders, and gently pushed off each sleeve, taking out my arms. I shivered again, my skin now freshly exposed to the cold. I spied the slightest twitch of his lips. He reached around me, his body hovering slightly above mine, his neck an inch from my lips. I felt myself lean forward, my nose brushing up against him. His hands pulled the rest of my coat off from behind me, and he sat back, bunching it into a ball. He then took his dry coat and pulled it over me in its place, rubbing his hands slightly up and down my arms. “There,” he said, and rested back on his heels again.

I blinked up at him, my lips slightly parted. His face softened, his lips pulling down into a teasing smile. He reached out and cupped my cheek, and I leaned into it almost immediately, not caring enough to be embarrassed by it. So big and warm. “Lookit you…” he cooed, his thumb stroking my skin. “Feelin’ that drink already?”

I hummed noncommittally, too focused on the newfound warmth from his jacket around me and his hand on my cheek.

Arthur huffed a quiet laugh, “Guess that’s a yes.”

He stood, dropping his hand from my cheek, and my head dropped slightly. I sighed, snuggling into his jacket to make up for it. It wasn’t the same.

“‘M still cold.” I complained.

“Yer insatiable.” He said, but knelt back down again nonetheless. I raised my head to meet his gaze. He thinned his lips. “Don’t think I’ve ever had such a whiny bounty.”

“Sorry, Arthur.” I mumbled, looking over at his tent longingly. It wasn’t my barn, but it would give at least some protection from this wind, as opposed to sleeping out here.

Before I could ask about it, air whooshed beneath me, and I yelped in surprise. Arthur had hoisted me up into his arms, and began to carry me to his tent. My eyes widened slightly. “A..Arthur?” I whispered, subconsciously snuggling into his chest. He was so strong, it was like I weighed nothing to him.

“You’ll just whine all night if I don’t let you stay in here.” He explained, ducking past the flaps to drop me down on the bedroll. He was probably right about that. Or maybe this was just another way of making sure I didn’t escape while he slept.

I rolled under the cover, snuggling into it as far as I could. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him, so much stronger here than on his jacket. My eyelids fluttered closed.

I felt him sigh and enter the bedroll next to me. It was a tight fit, Arthur pressed against my back to keep any amount of cover atop him. His hand rested on my hip, heavy and possessive. “Warmer?” He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He was so close.

“Mm-hm,” I hummed, my voice barely coming out.

I thought that was it, but then…

His voice dropped lower, quieter. “…You sure?”

A shiver ran through me. What? His hand squeezed my hip lightly, pulling me closer into him. His breath ghosted past my ear, against my neck. Was he…?

I exhaled shakily, some deep part of my whiskey-addled brain telling me that this was my chance. That if there was anything that would convince this man to let me go…

Lightly, I pressed back into him, sighing when I felt his hand smooth to the top of my thigh. “Could use a bit more,” I murmured.

It was all the prompting Arthur needed. Hot lips pressed against my neck, his hand insistent on molding my ass against the hard line in his pants. My breath hitched in surprise, and I felt myself rock back against him before I could think. He cursed under his breath, dragging his hand forward and between my thighs. I attempted to part my legs, allow him better access, but was met with resistance.

Oh, right. The rope.

He laughed behind me, smoothing his hand back to grab my ass instead. I squeaked in surprise, feeling him push me onto my stomach. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ out of those anytime soon,” he promised. I flushed at that.

Arthur yanked me back, forcing my ass into the air. I felt his hands palm me, smoothing circles into my pants. “Looks even better like this,” he muttered, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself.

Before I could respond, he reached around and unclasped my pants (much faster than my jacket), pulling down at the sides just enough. The rope bound me mid-thigh, so he could only get my pants down so far. A cool breeze blew past the tent, and I felt a bit of it ghost against me. My face reddened, feeling all at once how wet I was. Really? I felt surprised at myself.

I squirmed, rubbing my thighs together. “Arthur, are-“

A slap to my ass silenced me. I squeaked and jolted forward, the heat in my face increasing tenfold. “Dealt with enough of yer whinin’ for one night.” He bit, soothing his hand over where he slapped.

I exhaled, burying my face deeper into the bedroll, feeling my hips sway against his hand, begging for more.

His hands smoothed down my ass, reaching down to squeeze my thighs apart, to better see me, see how wet I already was for him. I hoped he couldn’t see. It was bad enough to have him feel-

“A-Ah…” my breath hitched, feeling his thumb drag down through my folds.

He hissed, sliding the pad of his thumb against my clit. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re soakin’,”

I squirmed against his touch, trying not to moan, unsure if I’d be punished again for it. He pushed his thumb back up, pressing it inside of me, and I felt myself try to part my legs again, to feel more of him, deeper, and almost cried in frustration when I couldn’t.

I heard him chuckle again behind me. “Aww, I’ll take care of you, darlin’, don’ worry,” he said, moving his thumb out to trace back down to my clit, pushing another finger inside of me in its stead. I muffled my moan into the pillow.

Arthur continued working at me, circling my clit with those deft, rough fingers of his, slowly pushing in and out of me. I pushed back against him, desperately trying to feel more, but every time he just shoved me right back where I was before, keeping up his torturous pace.

All at once, he pulled away, and I whined. Another slap to my ass as a result, and I let out a muffled groan, feeling my eyes roll back. “What’d I say about whinin’?” He admonished.

I wiggled my hips back, hearing him undo his own pants. Please, please, please. He was all I could think about, my legs desperately trying to separate, to take in more, more, more.

I almost wept when I felt him nudge against me, coating himself in the wetness he’d created. I pushed back, trying to take him in, knowing if I angled it right he wouldn’t even need to help me. His hand kept my ass steady, soothing circles onto it. “So needy…” he mocked, smoothing his hand down to my hips, to my waist, squeezing there.

Slowly, god, so slowly, he pushed into me, forcing me open around him. I moaned obscenely, unable to keep it back anymore. He didn’t seem to care this time, letting out a low curse of his own under his breath. Almost there, almost there… and he thrust into me, making me gasp at the sudden movement.

He pulled back and rammed back in, setting a bruising pace. I pushed back into him with each thrust, the ropes cutting into my thighs with how I fought against them, trying to take in as much of him as possible each time.

His hands gripped the tops of my thighs and part of my ass like a handle, using me like some kind of toy. “God-damn,” his voice came out staccato, matching his movements, “you’re so fuckin’.. tight.. for me…”

I whimpered, arching back, so lost in pleasure that I truly didn’t care what he did to me. He could have whatever he wanted, as far as I was concerned.

Drool dribbled out of my mouth, wetting his pillow. I felt limp under him, only kept upright by those rough hands of his.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his movements becoming less regular, more frantic. He swore again before pulling out of me, spending onto my ass and back.

We stayed like that for a moment or two, catching our breath, before he swiped off my back with something and collapsed next to me.

I flopped onto my side to face him, my legs still bound together. “Thank you, Arthur,” I whispered, “I’m much warmer now.”

Arthur snorted, snaking his arm around me to pull me to his chest. “My pleasure.”

The next morning I awoke alone in his tent, hearing him shuffle around outside. I blinked blearily, reaching up to rub the crust from my eyes. I yawned, laying onto my back, stretching my legs apart.

Wait. Stretching my legs apart?

I glanced down to visually confirm the sensation, finding my legs freed from the rope. I also noticed my pants had been pulled back up to cover me.

I sat up, peeking through the tent flaps. He sat at the fire, his back to me. Was he just letting me sleep comfortably before we left?

Despite the threat of death hanging over my head, I felt myself warm at the thought. This was a much sweeter awakening than I had expected.

Before I could think about escaping, or at least putting off our trip to the hangman, Arthur turned, as if sensing I was awake. "Mornin'," he greeted, his voice soft and low. I shrank a little under his gaze, and whispered a greeting back before creeping out from the tent.

Once outside, I shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around me. Arthur grunted, beckoning to me. "C'mere,"

I obeyed, walking over to where he sat. He spread his legs, patting the ground between them. I blinked down at him blankly.

He rolled his eyes and snatched at my hand, pulling me to the ground. I made a small noise of surprise, falling to sit between his legs. His arms and knees caged me in, bringing me back into his chest. This was so strange.

But not unwelcome.

I snuggled back into him anyway, not about to turn my nose up at the last physical affection I'd ever receive.

We stared into the fire for who knows how long. I almost didn't breathe, trying not to remind him that we had places to be.

Arthur squeezed me lightly, propping his chin on my shoulder. "Y'can relax," he sighed, his accent thicker now, in the morning. "'M not bringin' y'in."

What? My breath hitched, my heart beating faster. Was he serious? I turned in his hold slowly, craning my neck to look back at him. I didn't trust myself to speak.

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable.

"...Thank you," I said dumbly, breaking eye contact. Well, now what?

Now, I certainly didn't want him to change his mind.

I turned a bit more in his hold to better face him, feeling his arms adjust around me. I smoothed my hands up his shirt and met his eyes again. He watched me carefully, suspiciously, like he was expecting some kind of attack.

I moved slowly, not wanting to startle him, inching my face closer to his. I watched his eyes drop to my lips, his own parting in anticipation. I hadn't noticed before, but I seemed to have some sway over this bounty hunter, readily accepting whatever touch I offered him.

I smiled softly at that, and closed the gap between us, gently pressing my lips to his. Warm.

He melted the slightest amount, his shoulders sagging, his chest leaning closer to me. He was sweeter, now, in the morning. Softer, more patient. I slipped my hands up behind his neck, scratching lightly at the hair poking out from beneath his hat. He sighed into my mouth, his arms squeezing me closer to him.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, warm and close. When we broke apart, he cleared his throat, looking past me to not meet my eyes. "You..." his voice scratched out and he cleared his throat again, "Y'can stay with me, if you want. 'Till this whole thing blows over."

I had a sneaking suspicion it would be a long time yet. I nuzzled my nose against his jaw. Staying with him was safer than anything I would try on my own. "Thank you, Arthur."

He hummed.

a/n: on a scale of 1-10 how terrible is it that i posted this from class NOT WROTE IN CLASS posted from

anyway teehee hope you enjoyed and also hope it wasnt obvious that i kinda had no idea where to go with this teehee im just a girl

(also posted on ao3 under same user)

#fanfic #fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #bounty hunter #request #requests open #reqs open #writing requests

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justagalwhowrites · 9 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 3: Noise

You start getting to know Jackson - and yourself. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Attempted SA (not completed). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 6.5k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Electricity had a sound.

You’d never noticed it before but that had to be what it was. The buzzing.

It felt loud in the small room, a constant whine that made your ears ring. Everything here was loud, it was so fucking loud. The people on the street outside, the sound of the lights and the power humming in the walls, the tick of a clock in the corner.

Was the world always this fucking loud before? Were you just numb to it before?

You closed your eyes and crossed your arms tight over your body. You were still in that man’s coat. Your legs were freezing, feet numb. Your fingers were starting to defrost and they hurt but your stomach felt oddly numb. The wetness of your blood was there against your skin but the pain wasn’t there. It should be but it wasn’t. You didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“You’re a hard woman to keep track of.”

You jumped back, away from the voice, eyes flying open, arms flying out and hands groping for something - anything - you could use for a weapon.

“Woah, you’re OK,” there was a woman in front of you. She was older than you - you thought, anyway, you weren’t quite sure what year it was - and she had a gentle, kindly look to her. Her hands were up in front of her, empty except for a pen, a notepad tucked below her arm. “Not going to hurt you, you’re OK.”

That seemed like bullshit. Everything in this fucking town seemed like bullshit, none of it made any goddamn sense. Your eyes darted but there wasn’t much here. It reminded you of a doctor’s office waiting room. A few couches, a coffee table with some books and old magazines on it - the kind of magazines your mom would put out, not the ones she’d actually read, shit with short stories and pictures of landscapes in it. Nothing you could really use as a weapon. Your best hope would be running.

You should have just left when you had the fucking horse, you shouldn’t have listened to that man. It didn’t matter that he seemed strangely familiar and safe and beautiful you should have listened to your fucking gut and run, had you learned nothing since the outbreak? You don’t trust people, that’s how you get fucking killed or worse. People were dangerous, people were so fucking dangerous.

And now you were in a town full of them.

“Can you talk?” The woman asked, her brows raised, hands still up.

“Yes I can fuckin’ talk,” you kept backing up until you were flush with the wall behind you. God this was fucking stupid how had you been this goddamn stupid? “Do I look like a moron to you?”

“Absolutely not,” she said kindly. She was talking to you the way you talked with wild horses. Like she was trying to keep you from lashing out or taking off. “You just seem scared and like you’ve been through a lot. Sometimes people aren’t able or willing to talk after things like that and that’s OK.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped. “Just need to get out of here…”

“OK,” she said. “I can help you with that. Let me just take a look at where you’re bleeding and we can get you out of here, sound good?”

“Why.”

The woman frowned.

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to see where I’m bleedin’,” you asked. You were starting to feel the pain in your stomach. Your head was light, vision fuzzy on the edges. “What do you want with me?”

“Just want to help you,” she said. “Promise. If you don’t get in bed soon I’m guessing you’re not going to have much say in the matter, you’d lost a lot of blood when you came in and you’re losing more. You’re going to pass out if you’re not careful. So just let me help you, that’s all I want to do.”

She was right. You knew enough about keeping yourself alive that you knew when you were close to passing out and you weren’t far off from it. You couldn’t stay on your feet much longer, not without help.

Help this woman was apparently offering. For whatever fucking reason.

You tried to think of another option but your brain was fuzzy, too. Slow and sluggish, like working your way through the well worn pathways of survival in your head suddenly required swimming through Jell-o.

But you wouldn’t survive if you tried to run now. Even if no one ran you down, you’d pass out in the snow and freeze in hours at best. That’s assuming no one else got their hands on you first. It was better to give in to whatever these people wanted and escape when you were stronger. Then you’d have a chance at making it. You’d stolen a horse once, you could do it again. And you doubted anything they were going to do to you here was going to be any worse than other shit you’d managed to live through.

“You can look,” you said, relaxing back from the wall a bit so you were no longer clinging to the wood.

“Thank you,” she smiled a little. “Come with me? It’ll be easier if you’re in my exam room. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You didn’t trust that. You couldn’t afford to trust that.

But she was probably in her late 60s, smaller than you and definitely weaker. Even injured, you could overpower her. That made it better.

You didn’t say anything, you just nodded and followed behind her a small room with a padded table in the middle. She set out a step stool and patted the end of it.

“Can you hop on up for me and lie back?” She asked. You kept your eye on her as you obeyed. You might be in here with this woman but you weren’t about to turn your back on her. The table was cold on your bare legs and you found yourself oddly thankful to the man who’d given you his jacket. You didn’t understand that either. “Just going to…”

The woman opened the front of the coat and lifted the shirt, making you stiffen. She gingerly touched near your injuries and you tried not to flinch.

“You pushed it too hard, honey,” she said, smiling a little sadly at you. “I’m going to need to repack these and you need to actually take it easy for a while, OK?”

You looked back toward the ceiling and didn’t respond.

“Let me know if something I do hurts too much, we can take a break,” she said, going to a cabinet and coming back with a tray of shiny medical equipment. She set to work around your stomach and your fingers dug into the cuffs of the man’s coat, the wool and leather of it comforting to the touch. “Want to tell me your name? I’m Carol Livingston, the doctor here in Jackson…”

“What do you want my name for?” You clenched your jaw as you felt her pull something out of you. “What was that?”

“Gauze,” she held up a wad of bloody fabric in a pair of tiny tongs. “Can’t stitch up a gunshot wound, had to try and make sure we’d cut off the source of major bleeding and then pack it for a bit while it healed. If you don’t do things like climb out a window and take off on a horse, it’s usually pretty effective. And I’d like your name so I know what to call you. Start a file for you since you’re here now, all that.”

“A file?” You hissed it as she pulls more gauze from you.

“Sorry honey,” she said. “Almost done. And yes, a file. You’re old enough, you remember before, you must have gone to some doctors, they had records. Going to flush this with water now, stay still for me, OK?”

“I remember before,” you gritted your teeth and tried to think about something besides what she was doing to you.

“It’s important to have a medical history,” she said, sounding a little distracted. “And to keep track we need a name. Going to put more gauze in now, almost done…”

It had been years since anyone knew your name. You hadn’t given it to anyone in decades.

The last time had been 2003. September 27, 2003, to be precise.

Just a few days into the outbreak and you were already disoriented and uncertain about how much time had passed. But the first day was easy to remember. You rode Nike until she was foaming at the mouth, pushing her far harder than you should have. But you didn’t have another choice.

You stopped at a ranch, one that seemed quiet and still now. There were bodies, though. Flies were on them, gaping wounds in their chests and stomachs. One had a bite at their neck like Justin did.

The ranch was big, one you recognized from the summer tourist season and taking rich people who wanted to pretend they were roughing it on trail rides. There should have been a lot of people here but they were gone.

You were still quiet, guiding Nike slowly to the paddock, eyes wide open as you waited for someone - something - to come for you. Nothing did.

You got off Nike for the first time since you’d left home, opening the gate and letting her in. The trough was dry and a horse in the corner lifted its head from where it was grazing to look at you, not paying you much mind. You looked around for a moment and found a water spigot and refilled the trough before pulling the gun from the waistband of your panties. The metal had all but carved a spot in your skin from where you’d been bent over it, clinging to Nike as you fled the chaos and the death. You crept toward the bunkhouse, so like the ones you’d fled hours before, when it was still dark.

Pickings were slim when it came to clothes. You were the only woman rancher where you’d come from and there had been no women working on your parents’ ranch when you were a girl. You checked a few rooms at the bunk house before you spotted the main house through a window. If there was a woman living here - your best shot at finding pants and boots that fit - it would be there.

You crept over the open land, gun in front of you and aimed at the ground, the sharpness of the earth snagging on your feet. The main door to the house was open and the table in the entry was overturned, broken glass from what looked like was once a bowl scattered across the ground. You tiptoed around it, hoping you didn’t cut your feet too badly, and went upstairs, whole body tense.

It didn’t take long to find the bedrooms. There was a teenaged girl living here, one who looked like she was a bit younger than you judging by the posters on the wall and the canopy over her bed, but not much smaller than you. You raided her closet, focusing on things that could be a little tight but would still work - t-shirts and sweatpants. You emptied a backpack that had been tossed in the corner onto her bed and started packing.

You found the master bedroom next. Thankfully, the rancher was married and his wife was closer to your size than his daughter. Another blessing, this rancher’s wife actually dressed like she lived on a damn ranch unlike your own mother. Her Levis were the same size you wore but a different cut than you usually went for. Her shirts would just about fit, and she had bras that were only a cup size off from your own. You got changed quickly and grabbed extras of everything. Her boots were a size too big, so you grabbed a few pairs of thick socks and layered them before putting them on. Being dressed again was a comfort. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable you’d felt because you’d been half naked, not just because you’d been attacked and everyone seemed to be losing their humanity.

Next was the kitchen. You grabbed what non-perishables you could fit in the pack - a stash of Poptarts, cans of chili and soup - and gorged yourself on what was left in the fridge. You chugged sodas and peeled hard boiled eggs so fast that you knew you’d eaten some shell, too. You devoured the pears in the basket on the counter and added the apples to your bag before finding a canteen and filling it with water. There was a bottle of Advil in the pantry and you grabbed that, too. You tried turning on the TV in the living room, seeing if there was a news network that had information, but all that was being broadcast was an emergency alert signal, the sound so loud it made your ears ring. It said to stay inside. Like hell you were doing that.

Overly full and no longer half naked, you made your way back toward the barn to look for tack for Nike. Once she’d had a rest, you planned to get underway again. It might be quiet now but you weren’t counting on it to stay that way. You’d feel better with some distance, at least until all this shit - whatever it was - got figured out.

Once you were at the barn, you started at the gun safe. Lucky for you, someone had left the door hanging open in the chaos of whatever the fuck had happened the night before. There was just one weapon left - a shot gun - and some ammo. You grabbed all of it and put the ammunition and the handgun into a saddle pack you’d grabbed from the tack room. You loaded the shotgun and tucked it under your arm before you moved on.

You’d just found a saddle that would work well for both you and Nike when you heard the door creak. You spun, whipping the shotgun around into your grip, aiming it at the man standing in the doorway. He threw his hands up and froze.

“Woah there little girl,” he said. You narrowed your eyes. “Not here to cause you any trouble…”

“Then get the fuck out,” you said. “Shot two other men today, don’t mind makin’ you the third.”

“You’re the one in my barn,” he said, still in the door, hands still up. “Takin’ my shit…”

“This ain’t your ranch,” you looked him up and down. There hadn’t been a bedroom for a young man upstairs and he wasn’t old enough to have a teenaged daughter.

“No but I work here,” he said. “Think I’m the last one left. Think that makes it mine. You’re not gonna lose your mind on me like everyone else here did, right?”

“No,” you snapped. “Are you?”

“Don’t think so,” he said. “But I don’t think they did, either.”

You lowered your gun slowly, still watching him. He lowered his hands but stayed by the door.

“That your horse out there?” He asked. “The filly?”

“She’s mine,” you said. “Couldn’t get her tack before I left, wasn’t safe.”

“You can take that,” he said, nodding to the saddle that you’d dropped in your haste to defend yourself from him. “Reins, bit and bridle, too. Whatever else you want… She broke enough for you to ride though?”

You scoffed.

“She’s dumb broke but I’m the one who got her there,” your fingers twitched on the gun. “Don’t need you fuckin’ her up for me.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Just never seen a girl rancher before, let alone one who breaks horses…”

“I’ve been breakin’ horses since I was 13,” you stuck your chin out, defensive. “And I’m a champion bronc rider, too, so I can promise I can stay on the back of an unbroken horse a lot longer than you.”

“Alright, alright,” he smiled a little. “Not tryin’ to call your expertise into question. I’m Leo, what’s your name?”

You clenched your jaw for a second. Part of you was telling you to run, even if you didn’t shoot him, at least get the fuck away from him.

But you were also alone. You’d never been alone this long before. You’d moved straight from your parents house into the bunkhouse. You had your own room but there was always someone just on the other side of the wall, always someone in the barn, always someone else working with a horse or repairing a fence or mucking a stall. You’d never been truly alone, not like this. If this guy hadn’t become an inhuman monster, maybe he never would. Maybe you didn’t have to be alone.

You gave him your name. He stepped closer.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Like I said, there’s no one else here. Everyone else is dead. Don’t think there’s anyone but you and me for miles. Stay. For a bit. You and I both know your mount needs some rest, not sure where you pushed her from but you pushed her.”

“You would too if you were in my shoes,” you snapped and then sighed. “But she could use the rest…”

“I’m just glad to know I ain’t the only person left who wasn’t some flesh eating monster,” he laughed once. “It’ll be good. Promise.”

It was good, for a day. Nike rested. You and Leo went through all the rooms of the bunkhouse and the main house, taking inventory. You figured the two of you could hold out there for weeks at least while the rest of the world got its shit together. Plenty of time for things to calm down and some new kind of normal set in. You could figure it out from there.

Your second night there, Leo raided the liquor cabinet at the main house. You recognized the labels from your dad’s own stash, the thick amber liquid in heavy crystal glasses as much a part of his identity as his belt or his hat. Leo poured you a cup and you got drunk around a fire, not far from the horses, the stars bright overhead.

It felt good. You liked it. Until Leo tried to kiss you.

“No,” you shoved him back, twisting your body so you could put your boot in his chest if you needed to. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“C’mon baby,” he leaned closer but stopped when you gave him a warning look. “You really gonna tell me that I might be the last man on Earth and you’re turnin’ me down?”

“Could be the last man in the universe and I couldn’t give less of a shit,” you snapped. “If that’s what you want, I’m leavin’.”

You got up to go but his arms flew out, his eyes wide.

“No, please!” He was begging, pleading. “Don’t go, please don’t go. I don’t want to be on my own here, I’m sorry I did that, won’t happen again…”

You looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. But he looked sorry. He sounded sorry. And you didn’t want to be alone, either.

“It better fuckin’ not,” you said, sitting down on the ground again, putting more distance between the two of you.

He kept his hands to himself until you woke up with his weight on top of you. You could feel him through your jeans, your wrists in his hands holding you to the ground, his mouth by your ear as he moaned your name.

You shrieked, making him jump, lifting his head enough that you could slam your forehead into his nose. It crushed beneath your skull and he yelped, his hands leaving your wrists and flying to his face as he collapsed next to you. You scrambled away from him, going for the saddlebag and grabbing the pistol from inside it. You aimed it at him, standing over him as he sobbed, holding his face, blood on his fingers.

“What the fuck?” He was crying, his face red. “Why’d you do that?”

His voice was thick.

“Told you not to fucking touch me,” you snapped, panting for breath. Your heart was pounding, you could hear your blood in your ears. You were shockingly sober after all the whiskey you’d had earlier in the night. You aimed the gun at his leg and shot him in the thigh. He screamed. “Lucky I don’t fucking kill you.”

You grabbed the backpack and tack for Nike, hauling it outside. You kept the gun easily accessible as you saddled her up before going back into the barn for one last check for what you needed. Leo was still on the ground, clutching his leg. You sighed and got the first aid kit off the wall, throwing it at him, before you got the shot gun and some rope from the wall. You tucked the pistol into your jeans, slung the rope on your arm and aimed the shotgun at him as you made your way to the paddock again.

“I ever see you again, I will shoot you in the head,” you said. “Understand?”

There was a trail of blood from his nose over his mouth, his chin, staining his shirt.

“You’re gonna die on your own out there,” he snarled. “And you’re gonna fuckin’ deserve it.”

“Better than living here with you,” you said, leaving him alone in the barn. You opened the gate and led Nike out before closing it and mounting up, keeping the shotgun accessible.

“C’mon girl,” you gave her ribs a squeeze as you pointed her in the direction of the mountains, away from the place you’d come from. “You and me, let’s go.”

It was the last time you’d told someone your name. It was the last time you’d heard your name said by anyone who wasn’t you. It felt dangerous, sharing it, but you sometimes said it to yourself the first few years of the outbreak. First, middle, last. Just to make sure it didn’t fade into nothing.

You hadn’t done that in years.

But you did then, you said all three to the doctor as she gently put gauze into your body to soak up your blood.

“See, not so bad to share is it?” She said, smiling gently. She got out more gauze and medical tape and put it over your wounds. “There, you’re all set. Want to see?”

You nodded and she helped you sit up and got a mirror from a cupboard, holding it in front of your stomach so you could see without needing to bend as much.

“You were shot twice,” she said, pointing to the spots covered in clean, white gauze. “We were able to make the worst of the bleeding stop and pull the bullets out without opening you up more, which is good. You have some other bumps and bruises but we’re pretty sure there’s no internal bleeding, which was a concern, and no broken bones that we could find evidence of. You’re just still down a lot of blood, hon, so you have to take it easy, OK?”

Being shot sounded familiar. You knew there was a stretch of time you were missing. You remembered running, Cody helping you get out. You’d been on the run for three days - you thought, anyway - before they caught up with you, the fresh snow giving you away. You didn’t remember much after that. There was pain and red snow and something soft and warm that smelled woodsy and wild, like the coat you still had on.

There was a knock at the door and you jumped, eyes going wide. The doctor smiled a little and tugged your shirt back down. You pulled the coat back tight around you.

“Come on in, Maria,” she called, keeping her eyes on you. A woman opened the door, a pile of clothes in her hand. She was about your age, you thought, and pretty. She smiled a little at you. “She’s all set with me but I’d like to keep her here overnight, make sure she hasn’t lost too much blood…”

“Sure thing, Carol,” Maria said.

“I’m going to leave you in Maria’s very capable hands,” Carol smiled. “You’re OK now, honey. You’re OK.”

She got up and left, closing the door softly behind her. You fought the urge to back away from the woman standing next to you now.

“Hi,” she smiled gently. “I’m Maria. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’m here to help you. First thing, you’re safe here. You don’t have to be afraid of me…”

“Not afraid,” you cut her off. “Just like knowing where I am and that I can leave when I want is all.”

“Well, you’re in Jackson, Wyoming,” she said.

You nodded slowly.

“What part of the state is that in?” You asked.

“Near the Idaho border, south of Yellowstone,” she replied. You nodded again. Not too far from where you’d been then. That was oddly relieving, knowing they hadn’t taken you that far. “And you can leave whenever you want. We’d just like you to not die when you do so we’d like it if you stayed with us for a little while, at least. You were picked up by one of our patrols a few days ago…”

“This a QZ?” You asked. “There are a lot of people here…”

“No,” she laughed a little. “No, we’re not a QZ. We’re a commune, just a few hundred people who have agreed to share the work and the benefits of living together as a community…”

“So what do you want with me?” You frowned. You still hadn’t gotten a straight answer to that, not one that made sense, anyway.

“Nothing at all,” she said. Her voice was so calm and even, you wanted to lean into it, to trust her. That alone made your chest tight. “Our patrol didn’t want you to die in the woods and we take care of the people who come here. You’re welcome to stay, if you want. We have houses, clothes, plenty of food. If you stay you’d have to pitch in but no more than anyone else.”

You narrowed your eyes at her and she laughed.

“You don’t look like you believe me.”

“I can’t say I do,” you said. “That doesn’t… people don’t just do that shit, especially not now.”

She smiled, a little sadly.

“You were on your own for a while out there, I’m guessing,” she said. She was mostly right so you nodded. “We are an unusual place, I’ll admit that. But we’re good people and we’re proud of what we’ve built here. We won’t hold you prisoner and if you want to go, you can go. But I think you should at least consider sticking around. People aren’t all bad, you just have to find the right ones.”

“And you think I’m one of the right ones,” you said, still skeptical.

She shrugged.

“I don’t know yet,” she replied. “But honestly, anyone who tries as hard to live as you did is a good person to have around. And we have plenty of room here. May as well have you take up some of it.”

You nodded slowly.

“To start, let’s get you into something that isn’t bloody and a little warmer,” she said, holding out a small pile of clothes. “When was the last time you ate something?”

“I’m not sure,” you said. “Don’t know how long I was running or how long I was out.”

Maria nodded.

“I’ll get you something small to start, see how you do,” she said. “In a day or two, when Carol says you’re up for it, I’ll give you the tour, get you settled into a house. Sound good?” You nodded. “I’ll leave you to it. Try not to hurt yourself getting changed, I’d rather not get on Carol’s bad side.”

You smiled a little and waited for her to leave before you delicately shrugged out of the coat and peeled off the bloody shirt. She’d brought you a long sleeved t-shirt this time, a little oversized and pale blue. The pants were plaid, the same color blue in part of the pattern. You lay down to slide the shorts off and pull on the clean underwear and pants Maria had brought. Sitting back up took work but you were proud of yourself for getting there. You lifted the shirt and checked to make sure the gauze was still white, no signs of bleeding getting bad again. You shrugged back into the coat and were pulling on thick, wool socks when Maria came back, knocking once before opening the door with food in hand.

“We’re starting you slow, don’t want to push it according to Carol,” she said. “But I have some soup, half a sandwich, an apple and some water for you. Eat what you can, OK?” You nodded.

“Any questions for me right now?”

“When is it?” You asked. She looked at her watch but you cut her off. “Sorry, no, I mean what month is it?”

“November,” she said. “Early November, Thanksgiving is in three weeks.”

Thanksgiving. You’d all but forgotten about Thanksgiving.

“What year?” You asked, brows raised, fingernails digging into your leg.

“It’s 2025,” she said.

You tried to hide your surprise at that but it didn’t go well.

“What?” She asked.

“I’m younger than I thought I was,” you replied. It felt like you’d been with them for longer than that but apparently not. “Not that it really matters.”

“You can say you’re even younger if you want,” she smiled a little. “Beauty of the apocalypse, no one is going to check your birth certificate. Just be 22 forever.”

You laughed at that, hard enough that you felt the wounds at your stomach pull and you winced.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll try to not be too funny. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” you gripped the edge of the table. “Could you hand me that mirror? The one on the counter? I just… haven’t seen myself in a while.”

“Sure,” she smiled tightly again and handed you the mirror, face down, before heading for the door. “I’ll see you again soon, OK?”

You nodded and she closed the door behind her.

It only took a few seconds before you could hear what felt like everything again. The room was tinged pink, the sun setting outside, and the electricity was buzzing. You lifted the mirror slowly and held it in front of yourself with your eyes closed for a second before you took a deep breath and opened them.

Recognizing your own face was a shock. It seemed like, after everything, you should look different now. And part of you did. You were bruised and there was a cut on your cheek and you thought the signs of creases next to your eyes were more obvious now than they had been the last time you saw yourself. Your hair was starting to streak with gray. But your eyes were still your eyes. So were your teeth, your nose, your eyebrows. You were still you. You still looked like you. It was disorienting. It was comforting. You set the mirror down before you ate the food Maria brought you, suddenly starving but just a few bites feeling heavy in your empty stomach.

Eventually, Carol came back and brought you to the room you first woke up in. The bed had been made with fresh sheets.

“Here,” she smiled gently. “Why don’t I take that coat…”

“No,” you said quickly, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. She frowned. “No, I… I want to hold onto it, if that’s OK.”

“Not going to try to run on us again are you?” She asked, brows drawn together. “Because…”

“No,” you cut her off. “I just… it’s warm, I like it. I want to keep it. For now.”

She looked at you, like she didn’t believe you. Which she shouldn’t. You didn’t want to keep it because you were cold or because you wanted to run. You wanted to keep it because it felt good. It smelled right. Your fingers tightened on the cuffs. You didn’t remember much about coming here the first time. All you really knew was because of this coat. The man had given it to you and when it settled over your body, the collar brushing your nose, the smell of it brought back a memory you didn’t know you had. One where you were warm and in a daze and swaying on the back of a horse with something broad and warm at your back. Safe. You liked safe. You needed the coat.

“OK,” she said. “If you need a bathroom, there’s one right through that door there. I’ll be right out here if you need anything.”

You waited until she closed the door before you crawled in bed. It was dark outside now but you knew it couldn’t be too late. Even so, you were exhausted, and you somehow felt safe enough to close your eyes and rest.

***

“That girl is not sticking around,” Maria said as Joel sat beside Tommy in the mess hall at dinner.

“Who isn’t?” He asked.

“That woman you brought in from outside,” she replied. “She is skittish as hell, seemed fucking terrified…”

“After seeing what she did to the men out there, we should be thankful she’s just skittish,” Joel said, starting in on his meatloaf.

“What’d she do?” She frowned, looking to her husband. Tommy winced, bouncing his son on his leg.

“Well, now, see, I didn’t want to worry you…”

“Tommy,” she said in a warning tone.

He sighed.

“Well we found the other guys first,” he said. “One was just shot, nothing bad…”

“OK…” she said slowly.

“The other,” he sighed. “Well she’d damn near scratched his face off with her bare hands.”

She startled back from him.

“You didn’t think this was an important piece of information for us to know before we offered her a place to stay with us?” She asked. “Before you brought her into our community?”

“Guy deserved it,” Joel said. Maria narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged. “Well, he did. Did you look at her at all? Got the shit beat out of her. Looked like she’d been tied up, someone fuckin’ branded her….”

“Jesus,” Maria shook her head. “Can’t say I looked too close, no. Too busy trying to keep her from taking off on me.”

“Sure the fuckers we found deserved it,” Joel said. “We won’t give her a reason to do that to us so we’ll be fine…”

He couldn’t be sure of that, of course. He didn’t know you, not really. But he felt like he did. Looking at you, it felt like he knew you.

“Well it’s a moot point,” she said after a moment. “She’s taking off as soon as she’s able, mark my words. She’s terrified of this place.”

Joel didn’t bother to respond. He knew what that felt like, coming into a place like this when you were used to something so different. It had been scary for him and he’d come here of his own volition. He’d known someone here.

You were different. Of course you were terrified.

Tommy and Maria left to go back home before he did and Joel sat there, watching for Ellie to come in with her friends. She usually did, about half way through dinner. If she came in the right door, he’d sometimes hear her laugh. That was worth sitting there for a bit. More than worth sitting there for a bit. That girl, her life, her happiness were worth a lot of things. He could justify damn near anything for her.

But Ellie came in the door further from where he was sitting that night and he didn’t hear her laugh. She saw him watching her and shot him a glare as she crossed the mess hall. A warning message, of sorts.

“I’ll go back, but we’re done.”

That’s what she’d said to him. She’d meant it. And that was OK. She was alive so he could live with that. But at least this way he got to see her. Even if it was just for a second. Even if she hated him through it.

He was gone before Ellie and her friends were looking for a place to sit.

It was cold out, without his coat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, thumbs hooked on his belt loops. Going home sounded lonely. Lonelier than usual. He didn’t want to go bother Tommy and Maria, they had enough going on with a toddler at home. Getting a drink at the Tipsy Bison sounded miserable.

There was one thing he felt like doing. It was just a bad idea. So Joel just walked for a bit, wandering aimlessly through the town, letting the cold bite at his exposed skin. But he kept finding himself back in front of the clinic, the light on in the front room.

It couldn’t hurt anything, right? Just… he could check. Just check.

Carol smiled when he opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking.

“I can take a look at that for you,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Just a squeaky door,” she said. “Nothing much to worry about fixing. Can I do something for you?”

“No,” he shook his head for a second, looking at the ground and cupping the back of his neck before he could bring himself to look her in the eye again. “I just… was hoping to check up on the woman I brought in. Make sure she’s alright. You know.”

She smiled a little wider and shook her head once.

“She’ll be fine,” she replied. “Just keeping her here tonight because she lost a lot of blood. But, as you know, she was up and about plenty today. She just needs to give herself a chance to heal before she tries to crawl out a window and take off on a horse again.”

Joel laughed once at that.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he said.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you your coat back, though,” she said. Joel frowned. “She’s still wearing it. Wouldn’t let me take it. I think you might need to go find a new one, Mr. Miller. I don’t think she’s giving it up.”

“Oh,” he said. “That’s fine she… she can keep it.”

He turned to leave before he stopped in the doorway.

“Don’t tell her I came by,” he said. “Don’t want to freak her out.”

“Sure,” she smiled a little. He nodded. “Have a good night, Joel.”

“You too.”

The night was still biting and cold but he felt a little better, walking home in it as he looked at the clinic window as he passed, the one he knew you were just on the other side of, wrapped in his coat because you didn’t want to give it back.

He was still warm when he got home.

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm so sorry this update has taken so long! I wanted to finish up Beskar Doll before I fully dedicated myself to Yearling and now I can settle into a comfortable writing space with this fic which I am so excited for.

Bambi has officially landed in Jackson and Joel has taken notice. I love that for him.

I'm also really enjoying this softer Joel compared to Lavender Joel. It's interesting to write the same character who is in such a different place in his emotional journey and I can't wait to explore both of them further! I hope you enjoy the ride as we do :)

I do have a taglist. Please comment below if you'd like to be added!

Thank you for reading! Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #yearling

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