#arthur: are you keeping anymore secrets
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Little Leclerc | Smau
pairing : ollie bearman x leclerc ! fem ! reader.
ollie and the youngest leclerc have been dating for almost a year but have never posted their relationship to the public until now.
ynleclerc
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 765,536 more.
ynleclerc summer break🌊.
tagged alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc.
6,802 comments
yourbestfriend ooo soft launching y/n???
ynleclerc 😋.
alexandrasaintmleux pretty girl 🤍.
ynleclerc love you alex 🤍.
charles_leclerc i still can’t believe you pushed me into the water.
ynleclerc love you charlie😘
charles_leclerc you betrayed me for your boyfriend, i’m heartbroken.
arthur_leclerc me and Carla still won the fight between you two 🙄.
ynleclerc keep dreaming thur.
olliebearman ❤️.
ynleclerc ❤️.
username umm y/n and ollie???
username soooo who’s that in the second picture y/n?
username Alexandra and y/n are so pretty 😻.
liked by alexandrasaintmleux and ynleclerc
landonorris thanks for the invite guys.
ynleclerc sorry lan , we still love you!
username Ollie and Y/n would be cute tbh.
liked by olliebearman and ynleclerc
ynleclerc 2 minutes ago
replies
landonorris you both make me sick.
olliebearman 💛.
olliebearman
liked by arthur_leclerc, ynleclerc, paularon_, and 867,435 others.
olliebearman i love my girlfriend.
7,426 comments
username GIRLFRIEND??
username i wonder how charles and arthur felt when they found out 💀.
olliebearman they chased me around with shoes and kept throwing them.
arthur_leclerc false information.
olliebearman I HAD A KNOT ON MY HEAD
charles_leclerc i still have the shoe. be warned.
olliebearman ynleclerc their bullying me again…
ynleclerc charles be nice to my boyfriend.
username their so cuteee
liked by ynleclerc and olliebearman
ynleclerc i love my boyfriend.
arthur_leclerc just because your relationship is out doesn’t mean you two can flirt on the internet.
username ughhhh we’ve been waiting for them to confirm it.
landonorris I DON’T HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET ANYMORE😁.
ynleclerc lando you’ve literally almost exposed us twice…
landonorris okay… i didn’t tho.
yourbestfriend my favs❤️.
liked by ynleclerc and olliebearman
olliebearman 1 hour ago.
replies
charles_leclerc watch your hands.
the end.
#ollie bearman#ollie bearman x reader#arthur leclerc#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc x reader
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Quite Miss Home
Had an idea. Wrote 2.3k words in a couple of hours. Pure fluff based on the James Arthur song. ❤️
“Helloooooo, Chicago!” Eddie yells into the mic, reveling in the roar he gets back from the audience.
It’s been ten years since it all; since the end of the world as he knew it and the beginning of something so much better. Corroded Coffin had taken off quickly, after the “earthquakes;” something about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, if Eddie had to guess, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, just enjoy what he’s given, and damn is he enjoying it.
“How are you?” He asks, grinning when the audience cheers again. “Alright, alright. Man, I’ll tell you, it’s fuckin’ awesome being here. But can I tell you a secret?” The audience roars again, and he grins as he takes his guitar off, hoisting it up. “Who’s this?”
“Sweetheart!” The crowd yells back.
“That’s right!” He quietly thanks the stagehand who darts up to grab it from him. “But it’s not my only sweetheart. In fact, my real sweetheart is at home. And this tour is so awesome, but I’m kinda starting to miss my sweetheart.”
“Aww,” the crowd says, and he grins softly at them.
“I know,” he says. “This next song is for my sweetheart. They’re at home because they get migraines, and tours aren’t very conducive to not getting migraines, so we both decided it would be better if they stayed home. So this next song isn’t Corroded Coffin’s normal sound. In fact-” he gestures at the stage behind him- “if you’ll notice, the rest of the boys aren’t up here anymore. This is an Eddie Munson original, and I want to thank them, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me be the dramatic sap I am, and letting me sing this song, on national television, for my sweetheart.” The stagehand comes up again, this time with an acoustic, and again Eddie thanks him. “So, sweetheart,” he says, facing the cameras, “this one’s for you.”
“I'm in the kitchen while you smoke outside. You're careful not to let the smoke inside. I always tell you it's poison, but I know it helps you take the edge off the day.”
Eddie knows exactly where Steve’s gonna be when he gets home from where he works part-time as a bartender. In through the front door, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, straight through to the porch where Steve’s smoking.
“Y’know those things are poison,” he jokes, stealing it straight from Steve’s mouth and taking a drag before giving it back to him.
“I never want kids,” Steve says in answer. He’s a kindergarten teacher, so he comes home in one of two moods: he has the worst baby fever, or he never wants to see another child again.
“Yeah? What happened today?” Eddie asks, settling in close. He’s hungry, and was vaguely considering a stir fry, but instead he tucks in close as Steve takes another drag, preparing himself.
“Okay, so get this.”
“We get a drink before it's closing time, the one on High Street with the blinking sign. All these memories feel poignant. I won't be there to see the snow melt away.”
“Hey,” Eddie says, seeing someone settle at the bar in his periphery. “What can I get you?”
Then he actually turns to face the person, and-
Oh.
“Whiskey on the rocks,” Steve grins, leaning over the counter. “And maybe… something else? A little later?”
A thrill of heat rushes through Eddie, but he rolls his eyes with a grin and pushes Steve back by a palm to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants,” he admonishes, “I’m on the clock for the next four hours. Someone didn’t tell me they were gonna drop in, and I took my break twenty minutes ago.”
Steve hums. “Y’know, a dull knife could be very dangerous,” he says. “I certainly hope the one you’re using to cut limes is sharp.”
Oh.
Eddie grins, always on board, and leans over the counter. “Steve Harrington,” he purrs, delighting in the flush racing up his cheeks and down his neck. “What exactly are you insinuating?”
Steve sits there for a beat, drains his whiskey, and hops off the stool with a dangerous smirk. “Careful on your way out. It started snowing.”
“Oh, yeah, I been gone on business. I gotta make some money. I really feel the distance.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” Steve murmurs, clinging to Eddie like a koala. They’re still in bed, and Eddie doesn’t have to leave for another five hours. He’s gonna spend all the time he can in bed with Steve.
“I know, baby,” Eddie whispers back. “Tours are so long.”
“A month,” Steve agrees. “And then another three, after Indy.”
“But just think,” Eddie murmurs. “You’re still working, right? And those kids love you, and no matter what you say, I know you love them. And this tour is gonna be really good for us. We could get Wayne into a house, and help Hop with his payments-”
“He won’t accept the help.”
“No, but Joyce will,” Eddie grins. Steve laughs softly into his chest, then sighs and kisses a tattoo.
“I just wish I could be with you. I wish my head worked right.”
“Baby,” Eddie says firmly, “I love you. Regardless of if you can or can’t come with me. If you’re gonna be miserable the entire time—and we both know you would be, don’t even try to deny it—I’d be miserable, too.”
“I know,” Steve sighs.
“But hey. We’ve got time right now. And I’m not letting you move from this very spot until I’m gonna be late.”
Steve chuckles. “I’ll drag you out myself, Eds, much as I don’t want it I know you need to go.”
“I know,” Eddie says softly, turning so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. “But I don’t have to go right now. And I’m gonna spend as much time as I can right now with you.”
“I know.”
“No, baby,” Eddie says, eyes wide, “you don’t get it. I won’t even let you pee alone today.”
“So just like normal, then,” Steve grins.
Eddie squawks.
“And I quite miss home. And I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry. When the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV. Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home.”
“Hey, Eds,” Steve calls as soon as Eddie steps foot inside. “Shoes off at the door, I just swept and I swear to God, if you track dirt into the house-”
Eddie chuckles, toeing his shoes off before walking further into the house. “I know, baby, it wreaks havoc on your bare feet to feel it. I get a free pass from that ‘cause I wear socks like a normal person.”
“Literally when have you ever been normal,” Steve says, “that’s not normal, you and your fuckin’ ice cube toes in the middle of the goddamn night on my calves-”
Eddie snickers. “‘S not my fault you’re a furnace, babe.”
“I will maintain that it is your fault until we can prove otherwise, actually.”
Eddie is in love with this man. “What the fuck does that mean?” He asks, laughing, wandering down the hallway and into their room, where Steve’s folding laundry. “Fuck, I love you.”
Steve grins and accepts a kiss. “I love you too.”
“I smell you cooking from the living room, and then I tell you that I love your food. I know it doesn't come easy, but you know it reminds me where I'm from.”
“Baby,” Eddie groans when he walks in. “Are you making the pork?”
“I’m trying,” Steve grumbles, frowning at the pan. “‘S not working. It’s not getting crispy like it should.”
Eddie walks closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and nuzzling the side of his head. “Looks amazing,” he murmurs. “And smells even better.”
Steve sighs. “I just wish it was easier for me.”
“You don’t have to do this, baby.”
“But I know you love it.”
“I mean, yeah. But I love anything you cook, Steve. Or anything you call in. It’s the effort, y’know? Even when you don’t have the energy for anything but calling in pizza.”
Steve smiles. “You’re a sap, y’know that?”
Eddie chuckles, kissing Steve’s neck. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been down bad for you for a while, baby.”
“Yeah?” Steve tilts his head to allow Eddie better access. “How long?”
Eddie hums, moving down Steve’s neck, worrying his collarbone. “Probably since the demobat, Big Boy.”
Steve moans as Eddie sucks a mark high on his neck, just beneath his ear. “Yeah?” He asks, high and breathy.
Eddie turns the heat off. “Yeah.” A little bite to Steve’s earlobe as his hand creeps around to the front of Steve’s jeans. “Lemme show you?”
Steve pants. “Dinner-”
“Can wait,” Eddie growls. “I want you tonight, baby.”
“Whoa, I'm in another city. I got nobody with me. And it just really hit me.”
“Hey, baby,” someone croons. Eddie thinks he recognizes her from the last stop on the tour.
“Um… hi?”
She giggles. “So coy. You don’t have to play like that with me, baby.”
Eddie narrows his eyes. “I’m not your baby.”
“Well, no,” she admits. “But you could be. Or I could be yours, if you’re more into being a Daddy.” She runs teasing fingers up Eddie’s arm.
He jerks his arm away. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I’m really not looking-”
“Not yet you’re not,” she says.
“I don’t even know what that means- look, lady, I don’t want anything, okay?”
“Oh, come on, now-”
“I said no,” he says, harsher than he maybe should have, for the way she steps backs in shock. “Please leave,” he continues, gentler. “Or I’ll call security. And I don’t want to have to do that.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “You could’ve had a great lay.”
“I have a great lay,” he shoots back. “And I’m not willing to sacrifice it for a meaningless one-night-stand.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re a great lady. But I’ve got my other half at home.”
“Your other half?” Steve interrupts over the phone, delight evident in his voice. “Christ, Eds, you’re a sap, I miss you so fuckin’ much.”
“I know, baby, I miss you too, now I was in the middle of a story.”
“That I quite miss home, and I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor, and the dirt drives you crazy. Yeah, I quite miss home, 'cause it feels like poetry when the rain falls down on the window, while you're in my arms, and we're watching the TV.”
“Baby,” Eddie yells inside, “It’s raining lynxes and wolves!”
Steve laughs from the laundry room. “Why can’t you just say cats and dogs?”
“Because,” he stresses, “it’s not. It’s raining so hard, babe, it’s perfect couch-cuddling weather, can we watch a movie? Please?”
Steve smiles. “Dinner’s in the oven keeping warm. Labyrinth is in the player already.”
Eddie stills, staring at Steve, for a solid thirty seconds. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmurs. Steve grins and steals a kiss.
“Go get the food,” he says. “I’ll be there in just a minute, just gotta finishing moving this stuff from the washer to the dryer.”
He does, and Steve does, and soon the dirty dishes are abandoned on the coffee table and their feet are tucked up on the couch. Steve’s leaning on Eddie and Eddie’s hand is under his shirt, not for anything suggestive, simply just to feel.
He kisses Steve’s head with a content sigh, and Steve tilts his head back to look at him. “What’s up?”
“Y’know this is one of the things I miss the most when I’m touring?”
Steve smiles. “Just sitting watching a movie?”
“Well, anything with you, actually. But yeah. No expectations, just the movie, and the rain, and just. Us.”
Steve smiles and kisses his jaw. “This is one of the things I miss most when you’re on tour, too.”
“Yeah, I quite miss home. Yeah, I quite miss home. And I quite miss home. Yeah, I miss you telling me to leave my shoes at the door 'cause you just swept the floor and the dirt drives you crazy. Oh, I just miss home, no, no, 'cause it feels like poetry, as the rain falls down on the window while you're in my arms and we're watching the TV. Oh, I miss home, yeah, I quite miss home, no. Oh, I quite miss home. Yeah, yeah, I quite miss home.”
The last strum reverberates through the silent auditorium. Then, an anguished groan. “What the fuck, why are you perfect?”
Eddie laughs along with the rest of the crowd. “That’s quite the compliment, but no, my sweetheart will be the first to tell you I’m anything but perfect.”
Three and a half weeks later, Steve slams into him as he’s walking into the house. “Oh,” he says, delighted. “Hi, baby.”
“Fuck you,” Steve says, “fuck you and your song, I swear to God, Eds-” he tugs on Eddie’s shirt, pulling him away from the door, and Eddie chuckles.
“Baby, my shoes, the floors-”
“Fuck your shoes,” Steve growls. “Fuck the floors. If I’m not naked in bed in the next thirty seconds-”
Eddie grins and picks him up. “Say no more,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear, taking purposeful strides toward the bedroom.
As he kicks the door shut, he has one thought: This is my favorite part of coming home.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
Also tagging @finntheehumaneater and @gloomysoup because I figure you might like it ❤️
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#rock star Eddie#bartender Eddie#kindergarten teacher Steve#domestic fluff#quite miss home#James Arthur#song fic#starambles
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the nsfw alphabet for my favorite cowboy because I miss writing for him so please enjoy!!
MINORS DNI // 18+ ONLY
🌾
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
if it’s your first time together, honestly probably dazed a bit.
He’ll gather himself quickly though and gets a rag or his bandanna to clean you off, then himself.
repositions your body, so you’re comfortable first then pulls the covers over you.
Waits a minute before laying beside you to give you a moment to yourself then he turns to his side to hold your waist.
^^ (also because he wants to look at your face.)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Arthur has low self esteem and calls himself, “ an ugly bastard.” so he doesn’t really have a favorite.
But maybe after you two are intimate, he’ll let it slip looking down at you while laying in his cot by saying, “ I love how ya between my arms darling.”
likes to hold you so your waist and thighs. (whether sensual or sexual)
loves to hold thighs while fucking you and grips them tighter the louder you whine.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
will definitely avoid cumming inside, especially in the beginning of your relationship.
cums on your stomach because he likes seeing his spend drip down your body. (and he can also see your flushed, dazed expression).
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
definitely wants to cum inside, i just know it (because if he’s having sex with you, he wants you forever.)
likes when you praise and beg him a bit during sex. ( when you tell him, “you’re fucking me feel so good!!” , “oh Arthur, you feel so good inside me!).
Loves seeing his cum on your face after sex especially when you open your mouth and look at him with glossed over eyes.
(imagines what your ass feels while he thrust behind you since it looks so tight).
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Short answer, yes he knows what he’s doing.
Definitely learned through a working girl or two in his free-spirited youth.
But after Mary then Eliza and Issac, he decided he didn’t need sex or deserve it anymore.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Any position where he can see your face really.
Loves playing with your breast and pinching your nipples if you guys are in missionary.
Will lean over your body and suck on your breast while quickly fucking you
Doesn’t mean he won’t fuck you from behind if you ask
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Usually more serious during sex but sometimes can start with some sarcastic comments before your hands are on each other.
Devotes his attention and effort towards you in that moment.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
probably hairy than average based on his chest hair and beard. (but would trim some if you asked)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
VERY!! (especially the first time.)
would be a bit cautious and definitely read you for signals for keep going
once he’s found a rhythm, it’s gentle but firm like he’s completely dedicating himself to you at that moment.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t jack off because he doesn’t have time since he’s always on jobs or doesn’t have the need to.
But if you aren’t together yet and he’s had a few too many then he’ll probably end up thinking about you and how you make feel. Then notices he’s hard and feels a bit guilty but palm himself a little before stroking his cock.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Claiming: he loves seeing his hands on you and his cum all over your body.
Cockwarming: feeling your warm pussy drip down his cock while you’re sitting in his lap
Strength Kink: holding your waist and seeing his hands turn the skin around them red and being able to fold you up to fuck you deeper.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
In a real bed preferably at a hotel or cabin, so you guys can also be away from the gang and have a sense of normalcy.
His tent while you two are on a hunting trip since he can hear every noise you make.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
If you’re riding him and look him dead in the eye, he’ll grab your face with one of his hands so you don’t break eye contact and bucks into you faster.
Making you feel good because it makes him feel useful and like he has a purpose. (especially when you praise him, he loves it).
When you sit on his lap and nuzzle into his neck, the warmth from you and the weight of your body makes him hard instantly.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Won’t ever hurt you on purpose in any way.
Cuckholding, it’s a matter of trust between you two in a relationship.
Never will cover your mouth because he loves your lil noises and if you need to tell him anything.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
personally giving because he wants to hold as much of you as possible.
grips the back thighs and pushes them up or the inside of thighs so he can spread your legs open.
starts with wide, flat strokes up and down the focuses on your clit by sucking on in and lapping the top of your folds.
Will drag his tongue down to your opening and tease it, going in and out til you whine or pull his hair a little for more.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Mostly slow, affectionate sex while you guys are on a hunting trip or going to town ,complete alone.
Again after a successful job, he’ll immediately find you, pull you into his tent/room and roughly kiss you before pushing your skirts up and eating pussy like his last meal. He’d work you open with fingers before shoving his cock inside you and setting a brutal pace, so he can keep riding that high.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Doesn’t really quickies because again, he likes taking his time with you.
He won’t argue if he finds himself in the situation and will focus on you cumming first by rubbing your clit while fucking you fast and hard hitting that spongy spot inside you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
With both your lifestyles, you constantly take risk and have fucked in an alleyway or a out of the camp’s border.
You like sneaking up to Arthur while he’s on guard duty and sucking him off. Wrapping one hand around what you can’t fit in your mouth and the other touching yourself, you look up at him and hmm around his cock and Arthur bites his bottom lip to keep quiet.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Arthur knows he ain’t no spring chicken anymore but he can still last about 2-3 rounds for needin a break.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
it’s 1899, so no.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
When giving oral, he likes to tease a bit since he loves the noises you make, the feeling of your thighs between his hands, your hands gripping his hair and sheets.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
With his lifestyle, he’s learned to be quiet and not draw any unnecessary attention.
But if you guys got a hotel room, you’d be able to hear his airy grunts and low groans.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Holding one of your hands during sex whether if it’s slow, passionate lover making or fast, hard, primal fucking.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
7” inches and a little thicker than average.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Little to nonexistent before your relationship.
After you guys confessed, it starts slow then gradually gets higher over time.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Stays awake longer than you do to either clean up a bit or a peaceful moment to himself.
Will lay beside you even if he’s not tired so he can feel your body relax against him.
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AS FAR AS DREAMS GO, second part
Pairing | arthur morgan x fem! reader
Summary | It hadn’t been a dream that night. Despite you and Arthur’s efforts to steer clear from each other, it proves futile as a horrible incident brings you to the realization that your misunderstanding that once hurt so severely paled as you realize you might lose each other forever.
Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, angst, fluff, smut, graphic description of violence and wounds
Word Count | 17.5k
A/N | Hello everyone! It’s about time I posted the second part of this fic, which will be the last part. Sorry for taking craaazy long to write it, but I have been working a lot recently, so it’s been taking me some time to put it together. I had some trouble writing this and didn't really know where I wanted to take the story, so I hope it’s still readable. Thanks for reading!
Part one
You saw love for the first time in that cold, desolated cabin. However, the moment was brief when it was swept away from you, too fast for you to bask in the warmth it brought to your untouched heart. Just like the candle lit up the cold house with its all-too-quickly fading light, it had ignited something in you - something you hadn’t felt in a long time. You had been sure it was a good dream finally coming to you, a dream to heal the troubles that plagued your mind endlessly, saving you from the hold your memories have on you. Every touch of Arthur’s fingers had done that, and they had been so kind, so gentle. They grasped every part of you, filling you with a comfort that made you feel completely safe, even though it had felt like the whole world was against you outside of the wooden walls.
Eyes have a language of their own; you were sure of it. Though it’s hard, you’re always trying to grasp that actions and thoughts may not match. It has made your perception of the world more straightforward, allowing you to see people for what they are. Just like you - but with unique experiences and thoughts. Despite all this, you failed to consider Arthur’s thoughts as you basked in the warmth and safety he emitted to you. That’s why it wounded you to see his eyes speak so differently from the words that left him. He spoke indifferently, but his eyes were angry, ever so stoic. A whisper of shame taints the memories as his now obvious disdain towards you weighs heavily on your mind. You had stepped too far, misunderstanding his signals, turning his kindness into something it wasn’t.
It was selfish; you knew it. And now, you had to pay the price for being greedy with a man who didn’t even want you–a man who couldn’t even look at you anymore. Was his touch a momentary weakness he now regrets? You fear that in seeking refuge within his arms, you’ve shattered the already fragile bond between you. The small crack you had made in his tall, stony walls once again filled, this time sharp thorns creeping around the surface and prickling your skin as you tried to grasp the edges so you wouldn’t fall off.
You and Arthur were just like you had been in the beginning, treading carefully around each other like the other didn’t exist - like it was inconvenient to be in each other’s presence. You ache with every second of the prolonged silence, replaying every stolen glance and shared breath. Arthur was the fire that kept you warm that night, but did you scorch his heart in return?
The night air still lingers, but now it’s wrapped in a chilling fog as the morning breeze hangs heavy with unspoken words as you prepare to leave the shelter of the cabin. Your encounter still weighed deeply on you, and although you tried to keep your mind on other things, it proved futile. With every thought of him, it was as if the ghosts of the night before hovered between, whispering secrets that danced just out of reach.
You hadn’t slept the rest of the night; instead, you spent the small hours before dawn treading quietly through the house to distract your mind from the constant thoughts that circled in your head. The atmosphere was calm but uncanny, a lingering sense of emptiness filling you while striding through the distant memories you knew lay deep within these walls.
It was a smaller cabin, and nothing exciting hid in the dressers and side tables, as you might have hoped. You don’t know what you were looking for–maybe some letter or long-forgotten notes. Although you found nothing, everything else was in perfect shape despite the dust laying like a blanket over every surface, meaning the only person who probably knew about this place was Arthur. The house was lonely enough, and through your adrenaline-filled ride, you knew the site strayed far away from the path as only tightly grown trees surrounded you, right in the middle of the woods.
As you stepped into what looked to be the bedroom, you saw the bedside table filled with smoked cigarettes and ash surrounding it in heaps. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Arthur often stayed here, his not-so-healthy smoking addiction being a telltale sign.
“So, this is where he stays? And, smokes?” Your observation made you giggle through your lingering sadness at the thought. He was here more often than he had insinuated, it seems.
There were traces of him everywhere, more than you had seen in the camp. It wasn’t often he left shirts to clean or dishes to wash, nor did he have many possessions littered around. When Arthur was out, he was gone for long periods; when he wasn’t, he kept to himself most of the time. But here, his presence was overwhelming; the warm, familiar scent of him lingered, hitting you intensely. You could even see a gun lying on the floor and his all-to-familiar, blue, worn-out shirt hanging on the chair.
Filthy was an understatement, as the dirt and sweat on it made you scrunch your nose, a displeased noise leaving you. The amount of holes in the fabric made you want to gasp and gasp even harder when you saw the blood on it. What had Arthur done to the shirt? And what had he done to himself to leave the shirt looking like that? Striding hastily from the door, you picked it up, examining it with wide eyes. You could almost fit your entire hand through the patch.
Judging from the blood fading to a faint brownish color, it looked like the shirt had been here for quite some time. You could see a horrible attempt at stitchwork as you examined the blue fabric, but the moment you stretched it slightly, the stitches came undone as the needle that still hung from the thread fell to the floor.
A loud voice brought you away from your thoughts as the shirt fell from your hands. Arthur shouted your name, and suddenly, you were brought back to your current predicament. The thought made you sigh heavily as you stared out the window, now blurry with frost. Facing him right now didn’t feel entirely right, but you didn’t have a choice; if you didn’t want to walk back, of course.
With one last glance around the room, you quickly closed the door behind you and fished up the jacket you had borrowed on your way. Stepping out on the porch, you felt heavy and aching in the brisk morning breeze, gazing beyond the trees as the warm lights of the sunrise painted your surroundings with a golden hue. In front of you, Arthur was silent as he stood tall and formidable with his back towards you, adjusting the reins of Boadicea. With a clenched jaw, the brim of his hat cast a shadow under his eyes, obscuring the thoughts that churned beneath.
The horse shifted in front of him, restless, as if sensing the charged atmosphere. You knew he heard you step out, but he made no incantation of acknowledging your presence as anxiety filled you, words leaving you before you could stop them.
“Do you think it’s safe to go back now?” How he heard you was beyond you as your voice was slightly above a whisper, your insecurities wrapping heavily around your words. You shamed yourself for the stupid question you asked, mentally hitting yourself on the head.
His response was a quiet grunt, barely audible, and if you were facing him, you would see the brief flicker of uncertainty that crossed his face. It was a rare glimpse of vulnerability, a crack in his armor as his heart ached at your voice. Unbeknownst to you, of course. Seeing you so careful around him now made it seem like you had just met, your anxious gaze staring uncertainly at the outlaw in front of you like the day you met.
Hesitating momentarily, you searched for the right words, but the weight pressed against your chest, choking the words before they could form. You felt so tiny where you stood, like a small ant before a giant bear. The choking of tears waited to pour out, so you kept quiet. With briefly closed eyes, you took small steps down the porch, nearing him slowly, like he would leave if you moved too hastily.
He didn’t help you up the horse, and the action made you hesitate. Usually, Arthur would have been there, a steady presence at your side, always doing his utmost to help you. Instead, he swung onto the horse briskly and waited for you to climb on behind him. You moved tentatively; you weren’t sure if your overthinking or his daunting presence made you clumsy, but it was a challenge.
With a shaky breath, you attempted to swing your leg over the saddle, but the simple act you’d done countless times before suddenly felt impossible. Heart pounding in your chest, you cursed how your hands seemed to have a mind of their own.
Your foot slipped, and you stumbled, your heart skipping a beat as you fought to regain your balance. The horse shifted before you, sensing your unease, and you bit down on your lip as embarrassment burned your cheeks.
Suddenly, you heard a sigh above you, and you dared to steal a glance at Arthur. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unreadable, but there was a resignation in how his shoulders sagged ever so slightly like your struggle was the last thing he had the patience for.
Without warning, a warmth enveloped your waist. Your eyes widened as his hand gently steadied you, his touch firm yet gentle. He held onto you for a fleeting moment, his fingers warm against your skin as he helped you into the saddle. Quickly, he released his hold on you, like scorched by fire.
Now, you were the closest to him you had been since last night, although the chasm between you felt wider than ever, a gulf of unspoken emotions that you were too afraid to bridge. With a gentle nudge from Arthur, the horse moved, the rhythm of its hooves a melancholic symphony.
You stole a glance at Arthur, his jaw still set, gaze focused on the path ahead. His unreadable expression starkly contrasted the vulnerability he’d shown you just a few hours ago. What was going through his mind, you wondered to yourself.
You could have never guessed the shame that littered his thoughts with every move; the thought of you now acting apprehensive made him want to disappear into the ground. He had shown you a part he always kept to himself, a part he only relished when the last light of day disappeared.
God damn it, he was so foolish to think it was a dream since you had felt more real than you had ever felt. His mind raced as he tried to wreck his sense of what he could have said in his sleep for you to wake him up suddenly in the middle of the night, wondering if he had been talking about you.
He felt embarrassed, not letting himself touch you for a moment more than necessary, as he knew it would make you uncomfortable. Now, he longed for how you acted around each other before the night came, with you blabbering adoringly on with some nonsense that seemed to always lighten his mood, even though he didn’t respond most of the time. He felt stale now, shoulders hunched and hands gripping tightly on the reins as he tried to shake the thoughts of you away from his mind, unsuccessfully as per usual.
Still wary, you soon realized you didn’t know where to put your hands, fearing to touch his rigid body that tensed at every jump and unexpected movement from the horse. With a tentative exhale, you finally rest your hands on your thighs, fingers tracing the fabric of your skirt. It was a slight gesture, a silent admission of your uncertainty. The thought saddened you, and you should have appreciated his allowance of your touch the night before when you rode with him. It had been comfortable, and it was like neither of you had minded being that close to each other. It felt like years ago, but it was only a few hours.
As the horse’s movements continued to sway beneath you, a gust of wind tugged at your hair, sending strands dancing in the breeze. Instinctively, as if seeking an anchor, your fingers brushed against the fabric of Arthur’s shirt. The touch was unintentional, almost accidental, and your heart raced as you realized what you’d done. When Arthur didn’t react, your hands stayed there, the cotton of his shirt soft against your skin.
You didn’t exchange a single word for the rest of the way, both fear and apprehension filling the air around you as it breezed. The journey felt longer than you remembered; the anxiety and adrenaline had probably clouded your judgment last night. Although it felt longer, Arthur had set a fast pace, and you wondered if it was because he wanted it to be over and to escape your presence quickly. The thought hurt you deeply, and you wished for nothing more than to be back at camp.
-
And that’s how it went; the pair of you grew further apart the longer time went on, choosing to ignore every chance of reconciliation, instead opting to go about your day as if nothing had happened. The embarrassment inside of you should have grown into disdain for the man as you brooded at the thought of his actions. Instead, you couldn’t change your thoughts about him. You adored him, even though you know he didn’t share the same feelings. It all feels melancholy, but you can’t help how you think; your emotions always have the upper hand.
Like before, all traces of him grew faint as time passed, and to be honest with yourself, you missed him. As days stretched into weeks–an unsettling awareness that Arthur’s presence was becoming ephemeral, like a fading echo in your day-to-day life.
It started with the little things, the subtle traces of his existence that usually wove themselves into the fabric of camp life. His worn hat resting on his bed was absent. The constant smell of tobacco that lingered in the air was no longer there, replaced by the emptiness of his absence. The worn books he used to read lay untouched, collecting dust, pages waiting for fingers that never turned them anymore. The cup of coffee he’d drink in the early morning hours as you watched him from your place by the tree was now empty, cold, and abandoned.
Insignificant as they were, these traces spoke volumes to you. They were remnants of a man slipping away, consumed by a world that demands his attention at every turn. You had noticed how the weight on everyone’s shoulders had grown heavier recently as if treading down those mountains had unleashed an avalanche on your unsuspecting shoulders.
The workload was severe, and it seemed more often than not that things went wrong nowadays. Although it had appeared to lighten the mood for everyone to have some distance from the law, you didn’t feel like the recent time had been doing you good. More so, the lurking shadow of Micha that now constantly lingered seemed to dampen your mood even more.
Having to move from Horseshoe Overlook was one big reason you felt uneasy. You had grown quite fond of the place but were also used to change, which made it less arduous. However, dealing with Pinkerton’s and Cornwall’s men made your stomach turn.
All of you appeared to be in more trouble than before, and it seemed like you only increased your danger with every turn you made. You couldn’t argue that this place was better, though; the area’s remoteness makes you feel safer than you had ever been. Enclosed by a thick forest and looking out at a bay filled with small islands, you felt as if you were miles away from the closest living person.
Huffing to yourself, you closed your eyes momentarily as you leaned back into the makeshift chair you made from some boxes behind your tent. Although you had a bed, which you made yourself stubbornly since you refused to sleep on the ground, you found work more peaceful here. You were deathly scared of bugs, and if you slept on the floor, you were sure you would become a nest for the filthy, petty demons.
Although not a proper bed, just a blanket over some boxes, it wasn’t too comfortable, but you had to pick your poison despite the chuckles you got from your newfound friends. Oh, how you envied the others who had a proper bed. The thought made you sulk, but to be fair, the workload on the ones with a bed was heavier than yours, naturally.
Once again, your thoughts led you to him. It was the case more often than not recently. Although you had both had some more distance between you with Arthur never being around, it had only made you think about him more than you wished. You guessed it would give you more space and room to breathe, but it made you feel cramped like the surrounding air had become tighter as the days passed.
You had also been pondering how well you had fallen asleep in his arm that night with no hint of a nightmare following the closing of your eyes. It was strange to you, and you couldn’t help but miss the shut-eye that had made you feel more at peace than ever since you were a child. There was something so comforting about his arms around you, and you felt safer than ever knowing he was there, and you had missed it and now longed for it.
Over time, it felt like the hinting of love had been creeping towards you as you tried with all the strength you had to push it away, but your efforts remained useless as the thought of him only made your heart race. It felt hopeless to you that you had to go around pining for a man you rarely saw these days, but you couldn’t help the longing from your heart that prompted you to run into his arms whenever you caught sight of him and worry immensely when you didn’t see him return to camp.
Without Arthur’s knowledge, you had been eying the shirt you brought back from the cabin, wondering if you should fix it. If you did, he would know you stumbled into his room. You don’t know why, but you pondered if doing so would make him mad. He would probably view it as an intrusion on his privacy, but he didn’t tell you not to go in there. You had concluded that you would stitch it up for him but not give it to him.
The stitching proved difficult as the fabric’s tear was just as massive as you noted when you first saw it, along with some smaller holes that were easy enough. Apart from your troubles with it, you were pretty proud of your handiwork, and the shirt now looked wearable again. Well, it’s wearable enough for a cowboy, at least. With a sigh, you let the fabric fall on your lap and ran your hand through your hair as you gazed into the tightly grown forest towering before you.
“I didn’t take you for the lovesick type.” A giggling voice reached your ear, and when you turned your head to look beside you, a smiling Mary Beth filled your vision. Your brows arched at her words, surprised. “Lovesick? I’m not lovesick.” You said calmly, feigning innocence. You knew indeed what she meant, but you were not lovesick. The guilt from that night still filled your every thought, just like the embarrassment at your actions rose in you every time you heard his name. You didn’t know your actions mirrored your feelings, but to be fair, Mary Beth was always reading those romance books that probably gave her a picture of the signs of being in love.
“But maybe you are, seeing as you’re mending his shirt for him. It’ll make him happy, you know. He wore it an awful lot before.” A faint blush spread on your cheeks as you made no move to hide the shirt; the damage was already done. She was more observant than she looked; you had to give her that.
“Mending a shirt is hardly a sign of love, Mary-Beth. If that were the case, we’d all be married by now.” Your words grew into a giggle, the thought amusing you and your romance-obsessed friend.
“Could you imagine? I married to Bill? Or worse, Uncle?!” You erupted in a loud laughing fit after Mary-Beth whispered the words to you when she sat beside you, eyes around you now observing you. Putting her arm against your back, you both gossiped the evening away enthusiastically as you hid away from the rest of the camp, cheerfully blabbing til the darkness filled your surroundings. It was nice, the conversation you kept keeping your thoughts away from the sadness that had lodged itself in your chest, a now constant reminder.
In moments like this, you appreciated having a close friend like Mary–Beth around, for she was incredibly clever and better at knowing when you needed distraction. You hoped she thought the same of you, knowing her life wasn’t exactly rainbows and sunshine. You also knew she valued Arthur greatly and knew him well, much more than you did. The questions churned underneath, as you had to stop yourself from spilling your situation to her as you laid all the cards on the table, begging her to make sense of your emotions. You weren’t familiar with relying your feelings on others. Instead, you took pride in your extraordinary listening abilities.
He appeared in the corner of your eyes as you glanced up amidst your hushed voices. Menacing, he looked where he sat tall on his mount, body slumped backward as he lazily swayed with the horse’s movements, leaning back in the saddle. A sigh left you as he appeared unharmed, and the slight fluttering that spread in your body made you feel like throwing up. A sharp shiver rushed through you when his blue eyes met yours, the distance doing nothing to reduce the coil that twisted your stomach at his gaze. They were fiercely soft when they met yours, dark even through their vibrant shine. He looked intimidating; there was no doubt about that, and you cowered under his stare, eyes flickering between his and the dirtied ground before you as he disappeared into camp.
It reminded you heavily of the day of the robbery and how his gaze had pierced dangerously into the poor man’s frame. Somehow, you had convinced yourself that despite the severity of his actions, he was a good man. You were unsure if it was to justify the feelings you harbored for him or the will to think of everyone as good-natured that made that the case.
It had made you second guess what you were doing here, wondering if it did you any good to stay, but every time you pondered walking out, you found yourself unable to. You didn’t want to admit that Arthur was the reason for your staying, but somehow, the thought seemed to linger in your mind, reminding you of it every so often.
You felt Mary-Beth’s hand circle your forearm as she waved at the other men coming back, although glancing at you as she did. Straightening your back, you looked away. This time, you kept it that way as his eyes did more damage than good to you, a warmth having spread low in your stomach at the look of him.
Clearing your throat, you raised from your spot beside Mary-Beth and gave her a tight-knit smile. “Let’s get something to eat, yeah?” Nodding, she dusted off her lap slightly before hooking arms with you, humming as you walked off. You headed deeper into camp, finding Arthur’s eyes examining you as he spoke to a beaming Mr. Pearson, joined by a pessimistic Dutch.
Scratching his beard with his thumb, he looked deep in thought, like he wasn’t even recognizing that he was looking at you. For the first time, his eyes didn’t avoid you; instead, he looked at you shamelessly as your frame grew closer. Staring ahead, you felt your heartbeat pick up–it felt nice to have him looking at you again, although you couldn’t quite figure out what could be the reason for his stare.
You found yourself in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, the questions tumbling through your mind like a storm. Mary-Beth’s voice grew into background noise, her words a distant echo as you tried to steady your racing heart that only grew faster as the world became stifling.
The atmosphere had shifted, charged with a tension that seemed to envelop everything. As you continued the short distance, you couldn’t help but steal glances in his direction, each filled with curiosity and uncertainty despite you telling yourself to pay him no mind. God, you felt like a teenager again with no self-restriction.
“Hey.” A deep rumble traveled through camp as the distinctive voice reached you, your mind going numb at the possibility of him speaking to you. Mary-Beth turned her head towards you in confusion while you raised your shoulder slightly in uncertainty, head turning towards the ground as you came to a halt. You heard the clanking of footsteps draw near as the conversation between the three men ended.
“I’ll let you speak in private. Join me later?” Nodding slightly, you kept your head down, wishing you could shrink and run out of sight of the man towering behind you as your friend left you to your demise. You cursed at her under your breath as she half-ran to grab a bite to eat, probably to watch the entertainment before her unfold.
A short, rough cough brought you out of your thoughts, and straightening your spine, you turned around to face Arthur, motioning for him to speak as a slight smile graced your lips politely.
“I- we brought Ada back. I’m sorry we couldn’t get her until now, but roaming around there could get us into quite the trouble.” Scratching his neck slightly, he grabbed his belt buckle like he always did when he didn’t know where to put his hands.
You almost gaped at him when he spoke to you, used to him ignoring you, but recovered quickly by nodding slowly to show him you heard him. Eyes flickered up to yours soon before they faltered just as fast, sniffling before continuing.
“She seems alright, so you don’t gotta worry about that.” Suddenly, his words sunk in, your mind too focused on seeming indifferent to realize. Relief washed over you as you glanced towards the trees, and there she was, unhurt and now safe. Your legs began moving towards her before you could stop them, but before you got too far, you turned to the man who had brought her back to you.
“Thank you, Arthur, really. I know you have a lot on your shoulders right now, so…” You wanted to continue, but your mind grew blank as his blue eyes stared straight into yours. Nodding hastily, he told you not to worry about it and left you with Ada.
Smiling broadly, you ran up to her to thread your fingers through her mane, soft as it was when you last saw her.
“Welcome home, Ada.”
-
After your small interaction, the days passed, the slight contentment you felt bled into settled panic nestling in your stomach. Dread filled you as you walked towards the men saddling their horses, not giving you a second glance as your quick steps grew closer.
“I rarely involve myself in your business, as it’s not my place. But I and many others deem this to be a set-up!” Panic laced your words even though you tried to hide it, hoping they couldn’t detect it as you tried to keep a steady voice. Abigail trailed behind you, putting her hand calmly on your back.
She had seen the unsteadiness on your face when she told you of their recently planned actions to make up a deal with Colm O’Driscoll and end the year-long feud between them; worry also heavy on her face as she told you of her doubts about the situation.
“Now, now, my dear girl. You have nothing to worry about. We are just going to chat with old Colm, nothing more, nothing less!” Dutch’s ardent voice was loud as he spoke confidently, patting your shoulder as he walked past you, not failing to give you a reassuring smile only he could give in a situation like this. You felt like rolling your eyes at him but decided against it; the action was not like you and most definitely disrespectful towards the man.
“I get I might not know much about his character, but from what I’ve heard, he’s not the most reliable man. I’m asking you to consider instead of hasting through it.” Chuckling slightly, the man raised himself into his saddle expertly, beckoning Micha to do the same as Arthur stayed firmly on the ground as you spoke, staring indescribably at you. You could see the thoughts that ran through his mind. Who did you think you were to talk to in Dutch like that? With shame long forgotten, you stood your ground.
“My, my. You could give a man the wrong idea by worrying like that.” Sneering down at you with a sleazy smile, Micha crouched his form down towards you as he pulled on the reins. “I’ll return to you in one piece, darling.”
His offensive breath reached your nose as he leaned in close to you, and with an appalled face, you stepped back quickly to put some distance between you, back-hitting Arthur’s chest by accident, unaware he stood so close. His hand closed around your upper arm to pull you away from Micha. Sending him an unimpressed look, he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around as he stared you down with raised eyebrows.
“Listen, we know what we’re doin-” Before he could continue, Dutch interrupted him.
“Just a talk, darling.” Flashing you a suave smile, he beckoned the horse forward with Micha on the trail. “Come on, Arthur. We got a deal to make!” Hands left your shoulder as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
“Arthur, please listen to me. I have a bad feeling about this! What if you get hurt?” Your tries of reasoning grew into pleading as you trailed behind him, grabbing onto his leg as the horse, who kept a slow trot, rose still, huffing at the abrupt standstill. Staring up at Arthur with begging eyes, you thought you might have seen a slight hesitation deep within them.
“Hey, we’ll be alright, darlin’.” Leaning down, he grabbed your hand firmly on his thigh with a tight squeeze. “I wouldn’t dare get a scratch on the shirt you fixed for me, so I’ll have no choice but to return unharmed, do I?” With that, his warm hands left yours as the dirt swirled around him, gazing ahead with a small smile you failed to see amidst your confusion.
Shirt, you pondered for a second. Glancing behind you, you now noticed a few more had walked up a few meters away as they watched the men leave, Abigail pulling you back towards the camp with a sad gaze. Amidst them, you found a smug Mary-Beth shrugging her shoulders as you gave her an accusatory look, shrinking away quickly before you could question her.
A palpable tension stayed after their departure; it had continued into a sleepless night as anxious whispers and worried glances punctuated each passing hour cast toward the horizon.
Ultimately, it turned out that they all had been wrong, and you had been right. Despite this, Micha and Dutch returned in one piece, but Arthur did not. Arthur was the reason you were worried about this meeting from the start. Whenever you thought about the severity of the situation, your heart picked up, and the feeling of having to do something filled you but being held back by various gang members.
“We can’t just sit here! What if they have Arthur!?” You walked around restlessly with your hands trembling slightly in worry.
“And they might not have him. We don’t know. If we don’t see him back before tomorrow, we’ll go out after him.” Charles’ calm voice did nothing to ease your stress. Glancing up at Dutch in the distance, you grew weary as you didn’t see a trace of worry on his features. “This happens sometimes; we have to wait it out for a while. Arthur would have said the same thing.”
The only response Charles got was a clear view of your back as you stalked off to your tent, restlessness coursing through you amidst your slight panic. How they could be so aloof about this made no sense to you. From the moment when Dutch and Micha returned to camp, it was as if everything had returned to normal, with only a few inquiries about Arthur’s whereabouts.
Were you overreacting? They had been exposed to these situations for much longer than you had, so was your worrying unnecessary? Charles might have been right. Maybe you should give it some time before the worrying was justified, choosing to believe he was safe and sound. It would be the more logical thing to do, which didn’t surprise you since the thought came from Charles, but your head refused to work with it.
As night and day passed, your thoughts were consumed by the man now absent, everything you did useless since you couldn’t focus. It blurred past you, a fog-like cloud covering your mind.
Only when the moon cast a silver sheen over the camp could you hear it—a distant, solitary set of hoofbeats approaching. Your heart leaped into your throat as you swirled around with the half-packed bag. It was the unmistakable cadence of Arthur’s horse you had grown to remember.
With a sense of urgency, you rushed to the camp’s perimeter, your eyes fixed on the approaching silhouette. Arthur’s unmistakable figure emerged from the shadows, hunched over in pain, one arm clenched tightly to his side. He looked battered and bruised, the soft glow from camp revealing the weariness on his battered face.
As he drew nearer, your heart constricted in your chest, the relief of seeing him again, nothing against the fear now flooding your senses. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched him approach, his usually steely resolve replaced by a weary vulnerability. The sight of him wounded and weakened, stirred emotions within you that you struggled to put into words. All you could do was stand in shock, frozen in time, as he emerged.
Arthur’s horse carried him closer, but his strength gave out, and he tumbled from the saddle to the ground with a painful thud. You felt a shiver of anguish as the impact sent you rushing forward, and others from the camp alerted by the commotion joined you. In the dim moonlight, you could see the strained lines of Arthur’s face, the sweat that clung to his brow, and the pallor of his skin being drained of its usual color. His clothing was stained with dirt and dried blood, and his breaths came in ragged, pained gasps.
Amidst the concerned voices and hurried footsteps surrounding him, Arthur summoned the strength to speak. His words were laden with exhaustion and a grim determination as he recounted the treacherous encounter with Colm O’Driscoll. His suspicions about betrayal were tragically confirmed that he had relied on Dutch before despite his reassurance to you.
“Ah, I told you they would betray us, Dutch!” His voice was strained as he spoke, his eyes shut tight. Your hands trembled as you knelt beside him, your fingers itching to reach and touch him, to reassure yourself that he was here and not a figment of your imagination. The fear that had been gnawing at you during his absence, the dread that he might never return, had taken a toll on your nerves, and now that he was back, it threatened to spill over.
“We were comin’ for you, Arthur,” Dutch shouted as he made his way over, his voice tinged with relief. “But you made it back. That’s what matters.” As he spoke, your gaze remained locked onto Arthur’s face, your heart aching as you ignored his words. The sight of him, usually the epitome of strength and resilience, brought low by his injuries, shook you to your core.
The campfire’s flickering light cast eerie shadows on his battered form, accentuating the wounds and weariness on his face as his eyes stayed on you. Pain and exhaustion dimmed his usually vibrant eyes. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead as his face scrunched up in pain, and your heart ached at the sight of him in such agony.
You moved closer to Arthur, inspecting his injuries as discreetly as possible. His injuries were rough, and the gun wound in his shoulder was cauterized. Instantly, you grew worried when you realized he had sealed the wound on his own, but you shook the thoughts away for now.
Leaning closer to Arthur, your fingers moved carefully; you swept away the sweat-dampened strands of hair that clung to his forehead, your touch a soothing caress against his heated skin. The sensation of his sweat-slicked hair sliding through your fingertips sent a shiver down your spine, but you pressed on, driven by an irresistible need to provide him with some relief.
“You’ll be all right, Arthur. Just hang in there.” You whispered, your voice filled with warmth and worry, trying to discern his pain despite knowing words wouldn’t do the job. Your fingertips traced a path down to his cheek, where the roughness of his stubble met your touch.
Miss Grimshaw’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere of the camp like a whip crack, her stern tone leaving no room for argument. “Enough of this dawdling!” she barked, her eyes blazing with authority as she glared at the men gathered around Arthur. “Get him to his cot, now!” The urgency in her command left no room for hesitation, and the men scrambled into action, realizing the gravity of the situation. They carefully lifted Arthur, who winced in pain and carried him to his cot.
“Miss, you know what to do?” Her stern voice grew softer as she looked at you, already gathering materials you kept by your tent in a calm frenzy. You stilled as you looked at her, absentmindedly nodding as you pondered how to keep the man alive.
As you set to work, the camp grew into a tense silence; you preparing to tend to Arthur’s wounds when everyone had finally left you alone. Despite this, you could almost feel the tent vibrate with the heaviness of the other’s curious and worried eyes, closed flaps not helping.
Cauterized. That’s what Arthur had done. You closed your eyes momentarily at the horrifying thought. “What a fool you are, Arthur Morgan.” As the anger-rid panic spread through you, the loud buzzing in your ears grew louder. The flickering glow of the campfire cast shifting shadows across his worn face, highlighting the pain etched there. With anger and concern fueling your determination, you gathered the supplies, each movement deliberate.
As you sat on the chair beside the bed, the scent of smoke and charred flesh lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of what he had done to survive. Hastily, you unbuttoned the top of his union suit–the once white material a dark red, wet with blood. The wound was now exposed, the charred edges and angry redness a testament to the dangerousness of his actions. Your heart ached at the sight, emotions swirling within you as your fingers traced the contours of the wound with gentle reverence, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.
“Why in the world does it look like that?” Miss Grimshaw had crept up hurriedly behind you through the closed flaps of the tent but stopped when she was presented with the sight before her. Her gaze was set straight on where the bullet had dislodged from his right shoulder. The flesh was both burned and black. A gruesome sight, indeed.
She handed you a clean cloth, her hand hovering over her mouth as you dipped it in the cold water Pearson had handed you. Gently, you cleaned the wound, the fabric stained with a mixture of dirt, ash, and dried blood. You made sure the touch of the cloth against his skin was tender as you glanced up at his still contorting face, pain heightening as time passed now that the adrenaline had lessened.
“Cauterization.” You told the woman, disbelief still brimming through your mind. “It’s not a very common practice, and many aren’t aware of it. A good thing, though, I would say. It’s only used when there is no other way to survive.” The thought made you hesitate as you wondered what could have happened to Arthur for him to think that was the only way.
You got a confused look as you peered up at Miss. Grimshaw. Sighing lightly, you continued. “To avoid bleeding to death, you remove the bullet lodged in your skin from your wound and then blow up the skin with gunpowder to seal it. While it theoretically works, gunpowder is unpredictable, meaning you could get into more damage than you first were. When you blow up the skin like that, the skin tissue dies–and the immune system doesn’t work on that area since the skin is dead, essentially.” You glanced at him again as you shook your head, finding his eyes already on yours.
“With no immune system, the infections you can get are severe. There’s no way for your body to help protect that skin. In the end, it leads to death, most of the time.”
With a steadying breath, you reached for a bottle of alcohol salvaged from the camp’s supplies. Soaking the cloth in the liquid, the potent scent fills the surrounding air. “If the fever doesn’t take him, the infections will, Susan. How in the world did he think this was a good idea?” Though steady at hand, your voice shook as you found it increasingly difficult to speak.
You placed one hand on his forehead that felt worryingly warm under your palm as you glanced around to see if you had brought a wet cloth. Catching your drift, Grimshaw handed you one she got from the bedside table. Giving her an appreciative smile, you place it on his forehead.
“I can hear you, you know.” Gritting the words through his teeth, he spoke in a slur amidst the sharp pain, keeping his gaze locked on you. As you stared at each other, a silent exchange passed before you gently pressed the alcohol-dosed cloth against the wound. His inhale was sharp, a flinch betraying his efforts to remain composed, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for the suffering he endured.
Looking at you, Grimshaw shook her head slightly as appreciation shone in her sharp eyes. “Well, good thing we have you here, miss. God knows how he would have fared if that weren’t the case.”
For the first time since you met her, Miss Grimshaw appeared wildly unsure of herself, uneasiness coating her every move. If not for the severity of the situation, you would have found humor in her now ghostly pale face contradicting her ever-so-harsh interior. She probably felt so, too, for she put her hand on your shoulder encouragingly and left you to tend to Arthur, promising to call for her if you needed anything.
Her words were encouraging, yet the fear stayed persistent. What if you couldn’t help Arthur? Trying to stray from the thoughts consuming you, you focused on keeping a delicate balance of care and caution in your hands. The alcohol someone handed you before served as an antiseptic. Although not as valuable as a legitimate antiseptic, you had to make it work to sterilize the wound and ward off the threat of infection.
Arthur’s eyes remained fixed on yours throughout—a gaze that seemed intense and challenging to describe yet unwavering in its focus as they grew tired. In another instance, it might have rendered you nervous about being so heavily observed, but the adrenaline that still coursed through you made your focus solely on his wound. When everything appeared clean, you grabbed the bandage you brought to wrap it around his shoulder cautiously.
After some time, you carefully withdrew as nothing more could be done, but your fingers lingered against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Despite his fatal injuries, feeling his skin under your hands had been an immense comfort–a constant reminder that he was still with you for the time being.
The moonlight glows gently over you, soft shadows dancing across his features as you gaze over his form. He appeared to be knocked out now, eyes closed and breathing even. Indeed, this was a common enough occurrence in this gang as you thought back to all the other misfortunes they had to be saved from, but the thought of Arthur being the one at the receiving end of it made your chest cramp slightly tighter. Sure, he had been in scrapes before, but never this bad.
Shaking your head, you tried to get rid of the thoughts bothering you and instead worried about how you were about to keep his fever down. He was still burning up, face red and layered with sweat. As you glanced at Arthur again, pity settled low in your stomach. His expression was laden with discomfort and pain, even though sleep had rendered him motionless on the bed.
Bringing your hands away from his smoldering skin, you quietly threaded over the ground to the bedside table to grab the supplies, now soaked in blood and ash. Preparing to leave, you took what remained of the alcohol so you could sterilize the small portion of materials that were still usable.
That’s when you heard a barely audible, hoarse grunt piercing through the night’s stillness. Surprised, you looked behind you, and staring at you were a pair of blue eyes, half-shut with exhaust coating them amidst a desperation you had never witnessed before. Your breath hitched as the moment suffocated your lungs, the air around you growing thicker.
“Don’t go.” Arthur’s words were a whisper, laced with a quiet vulnerability that made your heartbeat pick up its pace. As you looked down at your blood-soaked hands to avoid his gaze, a calm moment passed where you assessed where the following string of actions would lead you, but ultimately, you sat back in the chair beside him.
Gently, you brought your still trembling fingers through his hair, combing it away from the cloth covering his forehead. His half-closed eyes watched you, and the warmth lodged in them almost made your breath stop.
Humming slightly, you remained beside him until your soothing caress lulled him closer to sleep. His breathing gradually slowed, the pain-filled haze lulling him into a fitful slumber. Features relaxed, his body finally succumbing to the desperately needed rest.
–
The camp grew shrouded in quietness. Arthur was still lying in his fever-induced haze, features now softened by the gentle pull of slumber. By his side, you sat with a tired mind, a flickering lantern casting a warm light that danced across your features. You had been awake for a few hours, watching over him in hopes his fever would stay down. Although your eyes showed intense fatigue, you combated sleep with determination and worry. How could you possibly leave him now?
Frankly, you were just as terrified now as when he stumbled into camp. As told before, if a severe infection took hold of his body, you had no way to help or treat him like you would if you had the suitable materials and not in the middle of nowhere. It was severe, not the usual gashes and bruises you were used to tending to with your time with the gang.
As you gently switched the damp cloth on his forehead for a new one, its cool touch contrasted his heated skin greatly. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered open slightly, revealing eyes clouded with fever and something else–perhaps even warmer amidst the haze. Chastising yourself for not being careful enough, you stroked his cheek softly with the back of your fingers, cooing at him calmly.
“Go back to sleep.” Your voice was calm, praying that he would fall back asleep. He didn’t answer you, only looking at you in that indescribable way. A fleeting vulnerability had seemed to wash over him in the quiet space between wakefulness and dreams as his fingers stirred.
Before you could fully grasp his intentions, his trembling hand found the one you had been resting on his cheek, his touch warm. A rough thumb brushed against your inner palm in a tender caress as he brought the soft skin of your hand to graze it over his lips. Your heart raced a tumultuous rhythm as his action surprised you tremendously.
Despite your attempts to stay strong, the weariness that washed over you and the toll of the day’s events fell from your shoulders when his eyes stared so tenderly into yours. The fear that had knotted your chest when you first saw him writhing in pain, the nagging anxiety that had gnawed at your insides during those uncertain hours of tending to his wounds, and the overwhelming relief that he was now here, still with you—all surged to the surface at once.
Silent tears welled in your eyes, their shimmering trails tracing the contours of your red cheeks. Your breath quivered, and your shoulders shook with the sheer intensity of the emotions building inside you. It was as though a dam had burst, releasing the pent-up feelings that had threatened to overwhelm you throughout the night. In the soft, dark tent, you surrendered to this moment of vulnerability, letting your tears flow freely.
Arthur’s lips, usually quick with wit or stern in resolve, now held a slight parting as if he wanted to speak but found himself at a loss for words. Witnessing him in such a state was rare, his gaze carrying a depth of emotion without explanation. Though trembling with the lingering pain of his injuries, his fingers maintained an unwavering hold on your hand as he pulled on it, beckoning you closer to him.
“No.” You mumbled through your tears, eyes clouded with a panic-induced frenzy when you understood what he wanted from you. “I need to watch over your fever.” Sobs mingled with your words, shaking your voice as tears glided down your skin, hand leaving in hesitation as you tried to create distance between you. A sigh escapes Arthur as he stretches his arm towards you and grabs your hand yet again, pulling you closer to him.
Although the pull was weak, it didn’t require much strength to succumb you to his will. Your determination disappeared instantaneously as your mind longed to be comforted despite the man before you in more need of it, leaving the chair to be embraced by his scorching body, the smell of sweat and blood filling your nostrils when you felt him underneath you. You didn’t care, though, the feeling of his bare skin against your cheek letting you know he was alive as you rested in the crook of his neck.
In the peaceful silence, you could hear the labored rhythm of his breaths, still showing signs of pain and the toll his injuries had taken on him. His heartbeat remained steady, though, a reassuring cadence that echoed in your ears like a comforting lullaby as you rested your hand on it. You grew aware of the rise and fall of his chest, the gentle thud of his pulse against your ear. Your heartbeat slowed as his cradle unconsciously calmed you, the tears not as persistent as they once were.
His uninjured hand found sanction on your waist as he gently stroked it with his thumb, the action comforting. If that meant he was alright or not, you could not tell, but likewise, you basked in the moment of having him close to you.
You looked up at him and stroked his temple soothingly as you wiped away the sweat that ran down his face. Arthur was already observing you when you met his gaze, the look in his eyes making you warmer than you already were, as the stifling air in the closed tent made no way for the chilly breeze to come through.
“You scared me, Arthur.” As the moment grew more intense, your eyes fell to the scruff on his neck as you spoke, fearing to look at him after your revelation. You felt the coarseness of his hand land on your cheeks in a gentle motion, the pads of his fingers gliding across your skin thoughtfully.
“You ain’t got to be scared anymore,” His raspy voice spoke out as his touch slowly caressed your lips, eyes zoned in on the soft curves. “I’m right here.”
Then, as if guided by an impulse deep within him, he raised on his unhurt arm and leaned forward as the back of your head found sanction in the crevice in his arm, his lips finding yours in a kiss as delicate as it was poignant.
The world seemed to recede in that instant, time slowing to a standstill as the feeling of his lips against yours sent a jolt of emotions coursing through your veins. The exchange was not fleeting; it was a lingering dance of lips and breath, a dance that ignited embers that had been smoldering between you for longer than you dared to admit.
When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours with a blend of sleepiness and an ember of awareness that pierced through the fog of his haze. You grabbed his shoulders softly, beckoning him to lie down again and rest on his already shaking body, quivering from the power of trying to stay upright. His fingers retreated to the bed, his gaze unwavering, as if he was etching you into his memory. A hand came to rest in your hair when he softly brought you to his lips again, your breath hitching as you fell into his arms again, your legs on either side of him when he pulled you closer.
His lips moved with more fervor this time, the arm holding you tighter against him as a deep hum left his throat at the feeling of your hands on his neck. His eyes were half-open as he kissed you, gazing softly into yours as the candle beside you flickered its light deep into his eyes. Together, your lips massaged one another, now desperate, as your hands gripped the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck.
The feeling of him gripping your hips against his middle made you squirm, the bed creaking underneath you as you moved your legs further up his sides to reach him better. You didn’t give yourself a chance to ponder what you were doing, feeling delirious and too exhausted to question your actions.
“Arthur.” His name came out in a breathless whine; though desperate, it was quiet. There was no reaction as his lips barely left yours to breathe, then once again warming your insides as you felt his tongues slip into your warm cavern, a nonsensical rumble deep in his chest going through him.
“Arthur,” Once again, you whispered; this time, despite your will to keep falling into him, you removed your hands as you tried pulling away. “You need to rest.” He placed his hand on your back and pushed you back towards him, stroking down to your waist as his palm caressed your curves.
“I’m serious!” Yet again, another whine left you, words contradicting your body as your hips moved hesitantly above his. Biting the bottom of your lip at the pleasant feeling creeping up your stomach, you returned to him with an urgency that rendered both of you merciless as you found comfort in each other’s arms.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” It took a while to process the words he spoke as the moment you shared filled your every sense, but when you did, you froze in his arms. Blinking your eyes slowly, you soaked up his words, and when you glanced up at him, his eyes were shut tight in pain. Your once beating heart slowed down as his confession squeezed it tightly, your breath now heavy as it grew loud through the quiet of the night.
“When, when I…” His forehead creased in frustration as he tried to get the words out. “When I got shot, all I could see was you.” The last few words he groaned out in strained breaths, teeth gritting as his hand flew to his shoulder. “And I, I could see you in front of me like you were right there. You felt so real as you fell into my arms, and I thought that was it.” A long pause endured before he let out a sigh and spoke. “I thought I’d gone to heaven, ya know.”
With now strained, open eyes, he looked into yours, and for the first time, you felt like you could see straight through the thorny walls of his soul as he bared himself to you. He had always been a man of few words, the last couple of days a firm reminder of that, but the way he spoke now filled you with a shock that made your blood run cold despite the scorching heat that surrounded you.
A long moment passed, and your breathing was barely audible as it mingled with Arthur’s. Despite being the words you have wanted to hear for a long time, they weren’t what you expected. The warm feeling in your stomach turned into a slight prickling as it rose in your chest, and you had to lean back as it spread through you.
“Now, I know.” A loud breath left him, the world growing blurry before your eyes as he continued, stress evident in his words as you put some distance between you. “It’s selfish of me to tell you this, to burden you with having a man like me love you. But I had to feel you one last time, in case I,” A slight hesitation filled his voice as he kept his eyes shut, fearing the look on your face as his hand squeezed your thigh. “Won’t make it tonight.”
The heavy stones resting on his shoulders for a long time fell, and relief shot through him as he finally found himself telling you what he never imagined he would. Could is a more fitting word; if not for the fever-induced haze he found himself in and the near-death experience he had just witnessed, he wouldn’t have spoken a word. He would leave you none the wiser than you were before, still having to live with loving a man who didn’t love you while he would dream of you forever, within a distance but still so far away—a light in his forever darkness.
Now, he was telling the truth. Aware of the fatality of his wound, he was sure dying was a possibility in the coming hours. After all the bad things he had done in life, the man down below had chased him for a long time, and Arthur always escaped him with pure luck.
To have you one more time as he did in the cabin was his dying wish, to once in his life feel the embrace of someone he loved in the bleak world he had lived in. He felt pathetic as he begged you to stay with him, rest his hands on you, and listen to the pitiful words that made him feel more like a beggar than a man.
He thought it was for the best when you didn’t speak up. He didn’t want to hear the words that he always imagined you would tell him were he to voice his feelings to you. Instead, he wished to live in blissful ignorance, to hear your breath in his ear as your hands touched him in pity for his pining and longing with eyes filled with anything but love. That’s where his heart had brought him now, craving your touch; whether it was filled with hatred or sadness, he would take it all as he lived his last moments. He would let you do anything to him, only if you stayed close to him.
When he had returned to you at the table in the cabin, the look in your eyes left his heart cold, filled with sadness as you gazed at him. A look that reeked of regret, wishing that you had never let him put his hands on you. He didn’t need you to tell him, for he already knew. To leave you in silence had been the best way for him to protect the small part of his dignity he had left.
He had wanted so badly for you to keep laughing then, beckoning him to return to your embrace as the monumental fright turned into a laughable memory and a loving one as you held each other warm for the remainder of the night. The thought had brought chills up his spine, and as he longed to return to you, he knew it wasn’t possible. If he put another hand on you, your words would burn his heart into ash on the wooden floor. He was sure of it.
As Arthur’s thoughts raced, yours stood still. What could you say that would make sense? You thought it had to be a dream, for you were sure you would never hear those types of words coming from Arthur. You brought your hands up to his cheeks with your palms against his warm, wet skin as you focused your gaze on his, finding his eyes now looking at you.
“What?” That’s all you could manage to let out, voice small and confused at his sudden confession. You felt a hand engulf your own, holding it against him as his gaze faltered when you leaned back toward him. You brought your forehead against his cloth-covered one and closed your eyes, soaking up his presence.
Loved you? He loved you? The thought rose fast, and your blood that had run cold earlier was replaced with a warmth that shook you through and through. Had you been so wrong to mistake his love for you with hatred and regret? Looking at him now, you could see that every word he spoke was accurate as he opened up to you and how glad you were that he did; for now, you wished to hear those words leave him forever. Amidst your tear-filled eyes, a toothy smile grazed your lips as you pressed them against his unexpected ones.
They were warm and inviting, fitting perfectly against yours, as if they had always belonged there, and as your mouths melded together, a profound sense of happiness surged within you. His hand, which had been so gentle with you, cradled your face, thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender caress that sent shivers down your spine. Leaning into the crook of his neck, you shut your eyes as a surge of tears broke through your eyelids from the emotions that wrecked through you.
“Hey now, I thought I told you not to cry.” Arthur shushed you as a choked sound left you, frowning as you let tears fall. You found it unbelievable to imagine that this was why he withdrew from you, and at this moment, you felt the stupidest you had ever felt.
Why had his thoughts led him so astray? Thinking that you would pity and loath him for the feelings he harbored for you? A damn outstanding actor, he was, for he had you a complete fool. You were sure he regretted everything.
“I thought you hated me.” As you murmured the words meekly against his skin, a scoff shook your body when Arthur glanced at you in disbelief.
“Now, how in the hell did you get an idea like that?” Even though his words grew harsh, his tone remained soft. He was surprised that that’s how you had perceived him lately. He held no contempt for you in his whole body and wasn’t sure he could, even if he had all the right to.
“I just, you.” Stammering, you found it hard to explain yourself, now realizing how easily this could have been if you weren’t so stubborn. “I thought you regretted being with me. You know, that night. And I, I thought I’d taken advantage of you and that you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
You were greeted with silence as Arthur let your words sink in, the quietness deafening. You waited for an answer with your head still cowering under his neck. His hand left its place on your waist and covered your cheek under its rough palm. Lifting your head, he forced you to look at him, an incomprehension visible in his expression.
“I’d be a fool if I even considered, even for a second, to regret being with you. More of a fool than I already am.” He saw that his sentence only confused you; a painstakingly labored breath left him before he continued. “Jesus, woman. You should be the one to regret being with me. A man like me should never put his hands on a woman like you, you know.”
“No, Arthur.” You mumbled as you stared at his chest in defiance. So this was why he had been acting like this? Was all that ignoring and indifference just a facade because he thought he didn’t deserve you? You almost wanted to laugh at the thought, but the worry you felt for him for his poor view of himself grew.
“Listen, I can’t be that for you, even if you wanted me to.” Shaking your head, you began to silence him.
“No-.”
“No, you listen to me. Today was a perfect example of who I am and what I do.” He shook your head to get you to look at him as he craned his neck to look deeper into your eyes. “You shouldn’t even be here, for your own sake. You could be safe, married, and live away from all this shit. Every time I see you, I see that you’re too good for us; you’re too kind, too warm.” He stroked your wet cheek with his rough palm as he murmured. “It ain’t something an outlaw like me deserves, alright?”
How do you even respond to that? You had no choice but to gaze into his eyes, the warmth deep within the blue orbs rendering you silent. So you didn’t answer him, lowering your lips closer to his. Your breaths mingled, the enticing distance speaking volumes at the want for each other still lingering in the air.
Arthur’s breathing grew unstable, and the already heavy strain his body was going through grew bolder as your enticing lips appeared so close to his, both mouths opening slightly as hazy eyes adorned your blushed faces. Everything that had just been said between the two of you disappeared from his mind; the only thing making sense to him now was your plump lips barely touching his.
You heard him rumble your name soundlessly, but it turned into nonsense in your ears as they buzzed, your heart beating so heavily in your chest you were sure you could feel it rattle your whole body when his lips finally touched your own. The first few seconds felt like a song, his fingers on you, picking at the strings of your heart as your breaths turned into a beautiful melody. Your caress was delicate as it ran over his shoulders, avoiding his bandages as they traced over the soft skin of his arms.
“You’re not dying tonight. You’re staying here with me whether you like it or not.” You let your lips connect again before he could speak, the desire in the kiss growing heavier, electricity zapping in the surrounding air. Now that you had him, you felt your heart soar at the revelation. Arthur loved you. Oh, how stupid you had been to think he despised you and regretted being with you.
You turn your head to the side to catch your breath, but as you do, Arthur takes the chance to place small, loving kisses against the corner of your mouth. Now that he had you on top of him, he only grew desperate for more, even though he knew the meaning behind your willingness was pity seeping through you from his words.
As you gasped for breath, his wet trail descended from your chin to your neck, sloppily massaging his tongue against your soft skin. Despite your attempts, his touch made it harder for you to regain your composure as a pitiful, quiet whine left you when you felt his teeth gently scrape on the already blushing skin.
His hand that never left the swell of your hips felt increasingly more lewd now than before, the broadness of his palms kneading the doughy swell of your curves as he spread your cheeks with fingers that grew closer to the warmth of your lower region. Your hands found sanction in his hair yet again, bringing your lips to his as your hips moved against the motion of his hands restlessly.
“You don’t need to do this.” Arthur’s voice was dangerously low when he spoke through your lips pressed firmly against his, and although laced with want, the uncertainty was noticeable. A suppressed moan left you as his finger accidentally ran over the delicate part of your lower region through your skirt, your face contorting at both the muted pleasure and confusing words he spewed.
“Hmm?” Once more, you zoned out for a minute, completely forgetting his injured state that had only been brought back to camp a few hours ago, and ran your hands down his neck and over the broadness of his shoulders, muscles tensing at your sensual caress.
“I know you pity me, but-” Barely listening to him, your eyes remain closed as you memorize the curves of his upper body. “-but you ain’t got to do this. I know what I said about having you one last time, but that was just wishful thinking, sweetheart.” Feeling the air thicken as you breathe, you gaze at him with clouded eyes, brows furrowing with bewilderment. “You ain’t got to do this just because you feel bad for me, alright?”
Raising, you sit down on his middle as you inhale deeply. “What are you talking about, Arthur?” A moment passed when his eyes closed, bringing his uninjured hands to his face to remove the cloth still covering his forehead as he let out a curse word under his breath. “You think I’m doing this in pity? No.”
Leaning forward slightly as you shook your head, you grabbed his cheeks with both hands to make him look at you. “Ever since you left me in that cold cabin, I thought you despised me, Arthur. I felt so ashamed and didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t hate you because I love you too much.” Silence followed your words as he stared at you like they had gone in the other ear and disappeared through the other. “Trust me, this is not pity, Arthur.” Softly, you kissed his forehead, lingering there for a while as you didn’t, even for a second, ponder over what you just said.
You felt two arms circle around your waist tightly as a gasp left your unsuspecting body when you fell on your back towards the sheets, the large body of Arthur encasing you as your lips connected in a hurried kiss. Shocked at the sudden change of events, you grab onto his arms to find stability, the fabric of his bandages reminding you of his state.
With your eyes shooting open, you try to push at the man above you so he would lie down again, the thought of him over-exerting himself a horror in the back of your mind as the severity of his wounds was apparent. This wasn’t good; you shouldn’t have let him move a single muscle when he rose from sleep; instead, prompt him to go back to sleep so he could rest his defeated body. Your emotions had gained the upper hand, and with every stroke from his broad hands, they threatened to take over again, surrendering you to his want.
You were tapping his chest in despair, but he didn’t let a single word leave your mouth as he almost swallowed you whole, a deep rumble going through his chest as he thought your moans of protest were from pleasure. Shivers wrecked through you when you felt his hands drag their way up your sides, thumbs resting just under your bosom as they stroked tenderly, ghosting over your sensitive nipples, the touch electrifying despite the layer of clothing separating you.
“Arthur! What do you think you’re doing!?” Managing to get ahold of yourself amidst his adamant touch, you find a moment to escape the onset of his lips left on you. Your hushed words didn’t seem to phase him as a lazy grin grew on his lips, staring at you with lidded eyes; no sadness in his gaze, but a deep longing that spread like a fog over his blue orbs. Ignoring you, his mouth enveloped you as a warmth radiated through your whole body, melting like butter in his embrace.
“Say it again.” Caught up in your lips, he begged you to say the three words that fell so beautifully out of your mouth–a sense of euphoria filling his body as he basked in the moment that just passed.
“What? Come on, Arthur, you’re hur-” A had found its way into your hair, tugging slightly as the other held you from squirming against the mattress. “Please, sweetheart. Tell me you love me again.” Your breath hitched when you heard what he called you, something so fiercely pinching your heart at him, yearning for you. You never thought you would have Arthur Morgan, known for his bullheadedness and unyielding ways, begging for you. Yet here you were.
“Say it.” His words were heavy with a desperation so fierce it backtracked you for a moment, his resilience rendering you motionless for some time. His otherwise calculating eyes grew darker with a deep want, your toes curling tightly as the hold he kept on your hair grew tighter, although not firm enough to hurt you.
Your body felt afire at his sudden desperation, not understanding how he had the energy to hold you this intensely when his whole body was trembling. The worry you held for him in this moment paled as he rendered you completely willful in his arms, the constant nagging about his state that always seemed to stay in the corner of your mind being washed away by his loving caress.
“I love you.” Succumbing to him like you always seemed to do, the three words fell from your lips earnestly, face contorted as your mouth fell ajar. Your heart beat wildly against your chest like you had just run a marathon and only increased when a loud groan left the man perched on top of you, burying his head in your neck, face now concealed by your hair that was displayed wildly on the pillow.
“God.” A strangled sound left him as he sucked in a sharp breath, hands coming down to lift your legs to rest by your side so he could fit his hips against your delicious warmth, skirt falling around you as he pushed your plump thighs apart. “Again.” Arthur’s voice grew firmer, not begging now but demanding it of you. Lost in pleasure, you didn’t hesitate to answer him, though this time softer as you observed the frustration filling his expression.
“I love you, Arthur.” His stomach churned at the warmth that swirled in your eyes when you spoke, feeling like the only thing keeping his miserable being alive was your words as they pierced through his heart. It wasn’t enough, though; every time you told him you loved him, a more profound urge to hear you say it grew, urging him to leave you screaming the words. It would only be enough when he had captured your entire body and soul in the prison of his hands, the only name left in your mind his. Just like it always should be.
Caught up in his intoxicating lips, it felt like there was nothing but the two of you in the entire world, everything having been pushed away by the intensity of the desire now burning within you. Eager to be even closer to you, he sought any friction to alleviate the sharp pleasure he felt spreading in his lower stomach. The hips nestled between yours sunk further so they fit snugly against yours, now unable to escape the blissful sensation that left your mouth open in a silent moan.
“Again.” Almost all his weight was against you now, your body pressed firmly on the mattress as he almost seemed to melt into your grasp when your hands gripped his shoulder blades in wavering suspense.
“Oh, Arthur. I love you so much.” You whimper out, finding it more challenging to keep quiet as he now ruts his hips against yours like in a trance, heavy puffs of breath leaving him as he struggles against the force of his actions.
His head fell limp on your shoulder as his arms circled your waist tight, sweat dampening the cloth of your blouse immensely, seemingly having trouble breathing as he panted loudly.
God, it felt so good, but seeing his arms shake in exhaustion showed you it was certainly taking a toll on his body. It took much of your self-control to try to get the rugged man off you, but the mere thought of him falling dead on top of you didn’t appeal to you even though every fiber of your being longed for him to continue despite his state.
“Arthur.” You got no response even though you ran your fingers through his hair to coax him away from you, whining when he rubbed against that one spot that made you jerk slightly. “Arthur, listen to me. We shouldn’t be doing this right now.”
You weren’t even sure he had heard you as the groans leaving him made your voice a distant reminder, but it proved to have gotten to him as the pressure of his body lifted from yours. Seeing he was out of your face, you felt your mind clear when you took a deep breath, though the pleasure he warmed your body with still left you in shambles, your voice shaking every time you spoke.
Grunting, he rolled over beside you on his back, eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure. As you looked him over, his whole body was covered in a deep blush, muscles flexing in exhaust.
“Arthur.” You sighed as you saw his appearance, still high on his touch, that left your whole body sensitive. “Why won’t you listen to me?” As he opened his half-lidded eyes, the determination you had failed to see before shone brightly in them as he raised his shaking arm toward you.
“Ah, come here, sweetheart.” He cooed at you, his voice irresistible even though it came out in a slur, speaking like he didn’t understand why you were so resilient. “Let me take care of you.”
Your eyes shot open as he spoke, growing speechless as the obscenity of his words backtracked you. A blush covered your face, and you grabbed your hands on your chest as you shied away from his poignant stare; suddenly, the embarrassing motion of clenching around nothing made you whimper out a no. Although your words contradicted your actions, Arthur knew, and an acknowledging grin spread lazily on his lips.
“I’m alright, darlin’, promise. I’ve got in worse scrapes before; this is nothing. Now come here.” He said, patting his thighs as he coaxed you closer. That was a lie. Never in his life had he been so close to death as he was today, and never had he been gripped by a fever that seemed to shake up his whole body as bad as it was now. The world around him was blurry as the slightest motion made him dizzy, every fiber begging him to rest, as he could feel his psyche and body hanging on a thread.
So, he understood where your hesitation came from, but he’d rise from the dead again and take you if he passed away without having you. Especially now that he knew you loved him. So it didn’t matter to him if he was half alive as he pounded you; he would see it through and ruin you for every man you came across.
“You’re lying to me.” You exclaimed aghast, remaining seated on your knees beside him as you gave him a concerned look. It was easy to see, for he looked more dead than alive, and while every fiber of your being begged you to force him to rest, you knew you had no chance against him. You have never had the strength to stay away from him.
When he realized you weren’t giving up, he pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes set heavily on you like you were his prey. It made you feel small in his poignant gaze, breath hitching slightly as you felt like backing away, only to be dragged closer to him. He winced as his shoulder sent a searing pain through his body at the pressure, so you had no choice but to crawl towards him in panic and push him back on the bed as he resigned, trying to put his bandage that had slipped back in place.
Ignoring your worrying tendencies, Arthur grabbed your more petite frame in contentment when finally having you closer again, hoisting you up on his lap as his arms pushed you to lie on him, hands resting on his chest.
Choosing to resign when you realized you couldn’t get your way, you placed a few nimble kisses on his neck under his ear where a gash had been reopened, now a deep red running down his side. He pushed you flush against him, knees raising suddenly to pull you further up his body so he could gather your skirt above your waist. Arthur’s rough hands ran over the softness of your behind before wandering up to grab your underpants. Gasping at the sudden tug, you felt the material slink down your legs, the sudden exposure covering your face in a deep blush as you kicked the material off your ankles.
“Rest your arm, Arthur.” You reminded him quietly, feeling both his arms at work as they ran over the flesh of your inner thigh tenderly. If you were going to do this, you had to ensure at least he wouldn’t hurt himself more than he already was.
Pleased when you saw him put his arm to his side, you raised on your knees so you could start unbuttoning your blouse. It was too warm here as the night air could not enter the tent, and you hadn’t realized how scorching it left your body until now. The material clung to your wet skin as you removed the buttons, sighing in relief as you grew more exposed.
That’s when you felt him rise, helping you remove the blouse over your head as you stared at him with a bemused expression because he didn’t listen. He didn’t pay you any mind, though, burying his face in your chest as his hands ghosted over your inner thighs. Trying to stay quiet, a hushed whisper of his name left you when you felt his cheek rub against your nipple when he placed a few kisses between your breasts. Your body was running in anticipation, already on high alert, as you had gone too long without feeling his hands on you, remembering how he had touched you before.
You gasped as his tongue circled your nipple, the wet touch gliding effortlessly along your sensitive skin. Immediately, your face contorted into pleasure as your hands tangled themselves in his hair while you gripped tight on the strands, back arching as his fingers ghosted over the wet lips underneath your skirt.
God, it felt like he was eating you alive as he let his mouth feast on the soft skin, hearing your attempts at quieting your small noises with your plush thighs pushing against his sides. One of his arms travels to your hip, trapping you in the enclosure of his hand as he grinds you down further onto the bulge, erection straining painfully against his pants.
An audible whine leaves you amidst your panting as you bring one hand to your mouth, chastising yourself for being unable to be quiet. It was impossible, though, when you could feel his clothed bulge under your exposed cunt that grew moist–slick now, rubbing against the fabric.
He helped you drag yourself back and forth as his hand fell to the side in resignation to the pain, his movement slow as he savored the feeling of having you entirely at his mercy. You felt him mumble something against your skin as he rolled the sensitive bud on his tongue, huffing as he felt your hands grip tighter on his roots. The sudden drag of his finger against your slit made a whine leave you, pulling his head closer against you as the pleasure now running through you rendered you unable to control your body.
“Good?” He mumbled as he massaged your clit with his fingers, although not adding enough pressure as you tried to move your hips against his hand. A quick nod left you as he planted his mouth at the juncture of your neck, wheezing as he felt your body go limp in his arms. He brought his thumb lower to feel how wet you were, the rough pads of his fingers so good against your heat as they made warmth spread through your whole body, toes curling when he suddenly spread your lips and pushed his middle and index finger into your entrance.
Gazing down from your shoulder, he grabbed the fabric that had pooled around you and lifted it up hastily so he could see more of you. The sight of your bottom moving against his hands made him want to scrunch his eyes tight if he didn’t try to memorize the sight in front of him. The soft plumpness of your thighs looked so beautiful against his bloodied and dirty clothes, skin clean and soft. Ignoring the pain growing harsher, his other hand raised so he could run his hands along the warm skin, your back arching slightly as you rose on your knees.
Placing soft kisses against the side of your waist that was now presented in front of his face, his hand trailed over to your bum as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, kneading the flesh roughly as he pushed your middle against him.
“Arthur.” Your quiet whining made his vision blurry, adding one more finger into your clenching hole as your nails marked half-moons into his skin. The tent was becoming scorching hot as you could feel the fever emitting heat from Arthur’s body, but his touch made you forget all about it, as you could only see white pleasure when his fingers massaged your inner walls.
Grabbing his shoulders, you tried to push him down, but your protests were in vain as he slowly withdrew his fingers from you and gently laid you down on the mattress. For a moment, he stopped in his actions and stared at you, your blouse discarded on the floor as your plump breast had grown red from his assault and the skirt resting on your waist exposing your heat as slickness from your arousal covered your cunt and the sides of your thighs.
But your face grabbed most of his attention as your eyes, which he had grown to love, stared back at him lovingly amidst the pleasure and want. A blush covered your face and ran down to your chest, which raced with your breath, hands restless as they seemed to almost reach out for him again. God, never had he thought you would actually look at him like this.
An appreciative rumble left his throat as he grabbed your skirt and hoisted it down your legs, casting it hurriedly to his side as he grabbed your ankles and pushed you towards him, where he sat before you. To you, he didn’t move quick enough. Instead, he placed small, tender kisses on your ankles as he stared you down, seemingly etching you into his memory. Growing shy under his intense gaze, you try to push your legs together as he runs a finger down your slick heat, suddenly feeling very exposed without your skirt and the thought of someone entering the tent lingering in the back of your mind.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Arthur cooed at you as he pushed your thighs apart gently, your strength nothing against his as he did it with ease. “It’s okay.” A short moan left you at his words, staring at him through lidded eyes as your hands gripped the pillow under your head, not knowing where to put them. “Come ‘ere,” He whispered as he lowered himself over you, pressing his weight slightly against you as his bare skin against your nipples made your body jump, another moan leaving you from the pleasure.
“Easy now, sweetheart,” As he rested his arms on either side of your face, he lowered his lips to yours as he pressed them against the soft skin, humming when he felt your legs wrap around his waist automatically. “You gonna be a good girl for me, hmm?” He asked when another blissful whine left you as his hand stroked up the softness of your stomach to your breast, gently rubbing your nipple with his thumb.
“I will.” The words left you breathless as you suppressed the moans that wanted to escape you, your body growing restless against his teasing as your legs tightened against his waist, prompting him closer to you. The friction against your core felt incredibly good, but only lasted so long for Arthur to raise his hips to remove what was left of his union suit.
As he pushed the fabric down to rest on his thighs hurriedly, your hands crept over his shoulders to run over his back, the skin still wet from the sweat running down his body under your fingers as they grew filthy from the dirt covering him and blood that had dried on his skin earlier. Grunting at your actions as you momentarily distracted him, he returned his hands to rest under your back so he could grip your shoulders. He’s probably going to get killed shortly, and if not from his injuries, from the sweet, hazy memory of you planted underneath him, staring at him like he was the only man in the world.
You were his obsession, if not a full-fledged addict, after tonight, and he had trouble keeping his hands off you even though he knew he shouldn’t have you. Although, those thoughts were far gone now, for he yearned after you. Craved to bury himself into you–like injecting himself with that sweet high only you could bring him.
Unable to help himself, he captures your lips again as he feels you giggle when his beard scratches your skin–a stark contrast in texture. The sound made him smile amidst his desperate actions as he tickled your waist slightly to feel you squirm against him. God, he had become soft.
You are interrupted by the slow drag of his cock running over your puffy lips that glisten with want, eyes scrunching together as the anticipation of feeling him inside you grows more intense. He prods it around as it slips between your cheeks; you’re so slippery that it drives him right through and slides smoothly between your thighs, coating his hardness with your wetness.
Your eyes are blown wide as you look at Arthur through hazy eyes, gazing at his heaving chest as his whole body trembles. You could almost taste his desperation as the same one course through you when he grabs your hips and bends his own so he can find you–holding the weight of his cock as he slips it right in.
A gasp leaves your mouth, and he swallows the noises by planting his lips over yours. Immediately, he feels you clasp around him as you clench, the spongy, slippery walls hugging him tightly as he curses. It felt painful to press something so ugly into someone as beautiful and kind as you, but he was far too selfish to care; the need to keep the end of his promise of fucking you good was not something he was going to break, even though he could feel the lingering exhaustion threatening to make him pass out any second from the pain littering his shoulder.
Gritting through his teeth, the combined feeling of pain and pleasure coarse through his body as he slowly dragged himself out before sheathing himself into you fully. You welcomed him openly as your hands gripped his shoulders, his hands hustling your thighs up to rest beside your body as he almost folded you in half.
Your mouth opens wider, lids dropping to cover half your eyes, with no hint of pain on your face. It leaves Arthur satisfied as he reminds himself to be gentle with you, his cock throbbing as his gaze flickers between your breast bouncing with each thrust and eyes hazy with pleasure–pleasure he was bringing you.
The lewd sound of him entering you fills the tent, and while he hopes it’s not audible outside, he isn’t sure he cares now. Although your quiet whimpers that you couldn’t help but let out, he wanted to keep to himself, pressing his hand against your mouth as he pounded into you harder.
“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how I make you feel.” He fails to conceal the possessiveness in his words as he mumbles out without thinking, too drunk in the feeling of your moans vibrating against his hands and pussy fluttering around his thick cock. He grits the words through clenched teeth, lifting his hands from your mouth so you can answer him.
You look at him as he keeps thrusting, eyes glistening with unshed tears as you swallow him more profoundly into your cunt. “Arthur.” His name comes out in a broken, almost nonsensical voice as you find it hard to speak amidst his harsh thrusts that push you further up the bed every time. “Please, so good.”
Your confession makes his eyes roll back, uninjured arm gripping the headboard as he repositions his hips, suddenly plowing into you harder as his face rests on your neck, body trapping you to the mattress to keep you in place. A slight sound left you from the sudden force, biting into your hand in desperation so you wouldn’t make a sound.
“Arthur!” A quiet gasp left you as he only groaned into your skin, breathing in your scent as his hips stayed relentless. “Ah, Arthur! Be careful!” Amidst your pleasure, you couldn’t help but worry when his arms extended limp beside you, and his weight grew even heavier on top of you as he almost laid down entirely if it wasn’t for his legs keeping him going. He was far too gone to comprehend what you were saying, though, as he fucks you hard but sweetly amidst his pain.
You shudder with every thrust now, his uninjured arm on the bed circling around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. You weren’t going anywhere from him as he planted a wet kiss against your pulse, the sweet sound of your pleas from both pleasure and worry surrounding him. God, if he didn’t know any better, this felt like a dream, your soothing hands caressing his skin as he panted above you, sweat running off him like a river and soaking the bed underneath you. You made a sound through your broken whines like he was torturing you with his cock, even though you were offering your cunt to him so willingly, the thought making his body grow taut.
Arthur’s hair was soaked entirely as you gripped it, hand looking for something to hold on to as your legs tightened around his waist. You couldn’t even move with his thrusts now–only able to lie there and let him take you.
“Arthur–god!” You tighten around him one more time, and all you can see is white as he buries his head in your neck, groaning desperately as he ruts into your heat at a pace you didn’t think was possible in his state. Raising himself up on his knees, with the last ounce of his strength, he grabs your hips and lifts up your lower half as he rams his throbbing cock into you, balls unbearably tight as they slap against your skin.
“Jesus- that’s it, hold on to me,” He grits out as your cry is muted by his hands when your walls flutter around him as you come, shattering all over him through broken sobs. Your tender hands, made to mend people, both heart and skin, grip onto his rough ones, created instead to destroy. The feeling of them running so softly over his battered body made him feel like the most undeserving man alive. Despite this, he reveled in the thought of being the one to feel your hands on him.
When you came, it became the final straw for him as he could finally feel the pressure release into a sharp pleasure that nearly blinds him. Falling helplessly into your arms, he pushed your lower half into his as he ruts mercilessly into you, walking you through your own orgasm as the first spurt of cum seeps into you.
He almost felt like a dog as you pulled him deeper into you, unable to help the way his hips pushed against yours as he thrusts into you, a white ring of his cum seeping out from your hole as your hands gripped his waist tightly. His cock still moves slightly even when there’s nothing left as the high still courses through both of you, you lying limp and frail underneath his weight.
Arthur knew he should move, but he spent all his strength, noticeably as the black dots that had filled his vision for some time grew bigger, panting like he had run a hundred miles into your skin as his body grew heavy on yours.
Every dream he had of you could go to hell because this was the only remedy needed in his unlawful life. Now that he had a taste of you, you grew into his own brand of morphine as the haze Arthur found himself in would erupt his whole being into an addiction. It was heaven, unfiltered and raw and so beautiful to be inside you, and he knew that if he died now, heaven would be no match for what he had in his arms.
As your high lessened and your mind grew more apparent, you cradled Arthur’s head. You nuzzled your face into his hair, rubbing his shoulders tenderly as you basked in the aftermath, finally having him in your arms after months of uncertainty and pining. You rested your heels back on the mattress, sighing as his now softening member moved inside you, leaving you both satisfied and full. You stay like that for a while, basking in the afterglow, until you notice his whole body shaking terribly as he struggles to breathe.
“Oh, Arthur!” A worried expression filled your face as you tried sitting up, although his weight made it difficult for you to move him. “Arthur, I can’t move you on my own.” Resting your hand on his cheek, you try to examine his face as he buries it further in your neck, forehead scorching under your palm.
“Shit.” You rarely swore, but now you chastised yourself for letting this progress, although you knew you did at least put up a fair fight against the headstrong man. Strained breaths left him as he rose slightly from you and rolled on his back, a short gasp leaving you as he pulled out of your suddenly too-empty walls.
Shaking away the feeling, you turn towards him as you realize his shoulder is bare, the bandage discarded on the bed. His wound looks wildly irritated and inflamed as a harsh redness surrounds his injury. “So stubborn.” You whispered as you threw the bandage down the bed, crawling over him to grab some fresh ones you had planned to take with you when you had tended to his wounds before. “You should be resting, but instead, you think it’s the perfect moment to have sex?”
As you looked over at him while redressing his shoulder, you found him gazing at you with humor in his weary eyes. You couldn’t help but lift the corner of your mouth as the reality of the situation dawned on you, chuckling as he poked your sides–your hand coming to slap his away jokingly.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” His voice came out in a shudder as he stared at you, tripping over his words as a groan of pain left Arthur, having not let his body take the rest it desperately needed. Setting into motion, you swing your legs over the bed and grab the bottle of alcohol.
“Here, drink up.” He raised his eyebrow as a strained smirk played in the corner of his lips. He got a bemused look at his attempt at lightening the heavy mood that had washed over you.
“You try’na get me drunk?” Sighing at him, wondering how he had the energy to make jokes, you brought the bottle closer to his lips. Hesitating, though, you questioned yourself if Arthur waking up with a hangover tomorrow amidst his pain was a good idea, but there was no other way to dull his pain.
“Do you want me to knock you out instead so you won’t feel the pain from overexerting your body?” Feigning horror, he still complied as he chugged the bottle empty. You grabbed it from his hand when he was done.
“You already did, darlin’,” He rumbled as he beckoned you to lay down with him, your head resting on his outstretched arm as you stared up at him. You grew quiet for a while; the only sound audible was your shared breathing as you traced circles on his stomach. Despite you worrying to death, you felt more content now than you had ever been. His confession had filled you with more happiness than you had ever thought possible, and now, as you lay in his arms, you felt dumb for ever thinking he despised you.
You had been so stupid, but you also pointed some of your anger at Arthur for being such a brickhead and thinking you felt less of him for who he was and what he did. Well aware of who he was, you weren’t so innocent either to be too good for him, but you knew he didn’t see it that way. You could never leave him now that you had tasted how wonderful love could feel, especially after the scare he had brought you tonight.
“I dreamed of you, ya know.” You turn your head to look at him as you are brought from your thoughts, hand ceasing its motion on his skin as it rests on his hand. Leaning his head down to the top of your hair, he kissed against it as he breathed in. You were like raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach. The way his mind goes blank from sliding his nose over the softness of your hair.
“What? Me?”
“Mmh.” He rumbled out, chest shaking as the indistinct sound of his voice vibrated through his body. “Every night, you came to me like a goddamn angel or somethin’.” He knew he wasn’t good with words, and as the words left him, Arthur realized they didn’t do his clumsy confession justice, but the way you looked at him like he was the most wondrous thing you had ever seen made him believe it wasn’t too bad.
“Every night, I dreamed of you. Your eyes when you stare at me in that way you always manage to do, your hands that are always so unknowingly soft-” His eyes glint with mischief as he continues. “-your round ass pressed against me-”
Gasping, you motion to hit him, but retract your hand when you remember his injuries. “Arthur!” You whisper harshly. “-your big words that make you look smarter than you are-” Raising onto your elbow, you give him an unamused look as he chuckles slightly at your reaction to his blatant teasing.
“If you’re planning on being so funny all the time, maybe you should have become a jester instead of an outlaw.” Squinting your eyes at him, he only brings his arm around your back to push your body against his once more, still shaking slightly from laughing. Settling down, he continued.
“Christ, I longed for you in ways you couldn’t even imagine, sweetheart.” As his voice grew low, he returned his half-lidded eyes to you while stroking your hair softly. You felt a lump in your throat forming at his words. The sweet words that felt so unfamiliar coming from his mouth did nothing short of making you putty in his hand, now finding it hard to be mad at him for the apparent strain he had put his body through.
“Every night felt easier when I had you to dream about, but that was all I let it be, for we both know I really don’t deserve you.” This was unmistakably true to Arthur, for even though he had you in his arms right now, he knew you shouldn’t be.
“Don’t stop, Arthur.” As you whispered, you gazed into his eyes, a fluttering erupting in your stomach as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him slightly as he pulled the blanket over your naked body. “Never stop dreaming of me.” Your voice trembled slightly.
“Why would I dream now that I have you?”
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan imagine#red dead redemption imagine#red dead redemption smut#red dead smut
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time to nag about my headcanon "Percy has Seer powers" and why that is a great idea
first of all, a little clarification; this isn't common knowledge to the younger siblings. only Arthur, Molly, Bill and Charlie knows. they kept this secret after Fabian and Gideon Prewett died
this implies that they died to protect Percy, who was just this tiny toddler who had absolutely no control over what he could See
the result is to keep his Seer powers secret
some background info; Percy's Seer powers is a rare gift that is apparently passed down from the Black side
Cedrella, aka their paternal grandmother, had it and has taught Percy how to use and control it. that's why Percy had a more closer bond to his granny than the rest of the family.
Arthur did not inherit it, but one of his brothers did. unfortunately, his poor brother is dead (it's not Billius, but someone else cause Arthur had three brothers accourding to the wiki) because he rather die than to let himself being caught by Voldemort and used as a tool.
while he doesn't understand Seer powers too well, Arthur respects it and is trying to be supportive for Percy.
also at a later point, Percy had 1 Bad Incident™ involving his Seer powers and it slightly traumatised him enough to not try to use it again
he takes divination in his third year for two reasons; 1, he also want to achieve 12 NEWTS like Bill. 2, he wants to understand his weird future-seeing power.
Oliver, his roommate (oh my god they were roommates) finds out by accident and keeps nagging him about the future Quidditch match results. Percy refuses cause that's SPOILERS
and now ONTO THE FUN STUFF
Percy can look far into the future, but he settles for the fun stuff
he occassionally makes references to memes and vines
his siblings doesn't understand them at all
at least until they're all adults with families in the future
and they be like "YOU KNEW"
and Percy just smiles innocently even though he absolutely isn't
Harry and Hermione aren't safe from Percy's Seer Shenanigans either
everytime Hermione is working with a crossword, Percy's eyes flashes green for a moment and when he opens his mouth, Hermione hits him with a pillow cause he was about to reveal the answer
Harry asked Percy once if his Seer powers was why Fudge promoted him. Percy simply smiled and said "yes, that was the reason. but the idiot didn't realized that i tricked him all the time and sent him on a wild goose chase."
aaaaand some Ministry shitshow stuff;
HEADCANON TWO; PERCY MADE LIFE SOUR FOR FUDGE AND THE IDIOT NEVER REALIZED IT
ofc Percy would be petty af once he figured out Fudge only wanted him because of his Seer powers. which means the fucker looked at the classified information in his personell file. Percy is obvs mad about that, but it's too late to tell his family about it and he decides to be an absolute menace about it without being caught
"getting caught means that you weren't smart enough to get an escape plan"
Percy takes full offense of being treated like a tool instead of a human with rights
he burns several draft-ups for the "updated law for underage magic" because they're fucking awful and he knows the bastard wants to ruin Harry's education. that also means he would ruin his baby siblings' educations.
he also burnt the suggestion papers about giving Azkaban prisoners the dementor's kiss without trial.
the law suggestions about banning human rights for werewolves, wizard hybrids and squibs also got BURNT INTO ASHES
Percy: I decide the future now. >:)
Scrimgeour makes an early bird appearence cause Fudge can't find the law suggestions anymore and he was the idiot to not keep copies.
after investigating privately, Scrimgeour finds out that Percy burnt them up and this madlad explains why.
suddenly Scrimgeour fully supports Percy and says his late uncles would be proud. bonus: Scrimgeour simply says to Fudge that he can't find things that may be gone forever, it's sadly "lost media" now.
Percy, getting the idea from the twints, orders dragon fertilizer (it's dragon dung lol) subscription from norway's dragon research center and sanctuary and sends it to Umbridge, using her forged signature
he's careful to not get caught, so he looks into the future (a bit at the time, though)
feel free to add some of your own ideas/suggestions/headcanon about Seer!Percy Weasley :)
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you know the people who are on the train of mary being "manipulative" and "selfish" always seem to conveniently forget that if she truly was that, she would have sold out the gang years ago, or at least blackmailed them with the idea.
she wouldn't have kept their location a secret from the law, but she did, because she, despite not being in the gang nor in a relationship with arthur anymore, is still loyal to arthur, and still loves and cares about him. she gets no benefit from hiding their location, and i'm sure she has likely had the opportunity, given that i believe that her relationship to the gang is known as she's been in contact with the gang for a very long time.
this decision goes beyond her own self-interest, and purely comes from a deep sense of loyalty and commitment to arthur (and by extension, the gang - even if the gang sees her in a negative light, she still keeps them safe).
i mean, even arthur admits to this, that she has kept them safe for a very long time and could have sold them out a long time ago.
#its like... its almost like mary isnt the manipulative selfish bitch you like to portray her as#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 arthur morgan#arthur morgan#rdr2 mary gillis#mary gillis#rdr2 mary linton#mary linton#strawberry speaks
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WRONG ONE ! PT3
an Arthur Leclerc social media AU
(Im truly sorry
I really didn’t mean to do it Arthur
it’s all good my angel, it was bound to happen someday
what do we do now ?
you know I’m fine with everything, if you want to stay private, we stay private, if you want to go public then we do that
we can’t really pretend we’re friends anymore lol… you post something on instagram to confirm ?
leave it to me 😘
I love you)
arthur_leclerc made a new post
arthur_leclerc: Cat’s out of the bag ! Thank you for being my side for these past years, and thanks to all of you for respecting our privacy. My own little miss sunshine ❤️
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others
charles_leclerc: Surprised you two managed to keep the secret for so long 😂😂
arthur_leclerc: Well I did, not her 😂
yourusername: JE ME SUIS EXCUSÉE 🥲 (I said sorry)
charles_leclerc: 😂😂😂
lissiemackintosh: AHHHHHHH I can finally stop pretending 😂🥰
yourusername: and we can finally have the double date™️ !!! 😘🥰
marcusarmstrong: some of us are BUSY, Y/N
yourusername: never too busy for me 😗✌🏻
oscarpiastri: took you long enough ✌🏻
yourusername: now you can stop being cryptic in my comments 😠😠
user1: just know that when he thanks fans for respecting their privacy, he thanks ME and not all of you who kept harassing them ❤️
♥️liked by yourusername
yourusername: speak your truth 🗣️
user2: PARENTS
user3: BACK OFF SHES OUR GF NOT YOURS
user4: ARTHUR CAN YOU FIGHT????.????????
arthur_leclerc: why do you want to fight me ? 😭
yourusername just posted a new story
seen by clementnovalak, alexandrasaintmleux and others
arthur_leclerc: yours yours yours yours 😘
user1: oh no they’re going to be simping on main now….
#f2 smau#f2 social media au#f2 fluff#f2#f2 x reader#f2 imagine#arthur leclerc smau#arthur leclerc fluff#arthur leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc imagine#arthur leclerc#arthur leclerc social media au
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For the quotes thingy, 94 for Merlin and Arthur
Sorry for the delay anon. Here's some modern-era workplace au merthur for ya. (There are sexual references but no actual smut in this, sorry if you wanted some haha)
“I bet I can make you scream my name.”
The worst thing about being in a secret relationship with Arthur Pendragon was that he could be a right bloody tease.
All Merlin had done was suggest they keep their relationship a secret. They had just gotten together after all, and they weren’t fourteen anymore. They didn’t have to immediately run and tell their friends every single thing about their dating life the second it happened, did they?
Sure, their relationship was a culmination of months of frustrated pining that Merlin thought was one-sided until Arthur dropped him to his flat post the office party and abruptly (and clumsily) confessed his feelings, which resulted in a kiss that made Merlin so weak-kneed he was positive he’d never been kissed like that before.
But the next morning, when he saw Arthur rousing in his bed, the sunlight alighting on him like he was a Classical painting of a half-naked Adonis, Merlin’s senses returned to him.
The words had come out in a rush, before he could stop them. “We shouldn’t tell anyone. About us.”
It took Arthur a moment to register the words, but as soon as he did, he looked affronted by the mere suggestion. “What? Why?”
“Just… you know. We work together. People will think I’m… sucking up to the boss.”
Arthur gave him a look that made it clear he knew that was bullshit. Technically, yes, Arthur was one of the bosses, but Merlin was in another department and didn’t report to Arthur at all, so they weren’t actually breaking any rules by getting involved. And Merlin in particular was known office-wide for not giving a single shit what his bosses thought anyway. A fact that made him far from Uther Pendragon’s favourite employee.
Arthur was watching him, brows raised slightly in suspicious contemplation. “What’s the real reason?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Merlin said, flicking on the electric kettle and letting the sound of bubbling water fill the small room.
Arthur wore the grumpy expression he wore during too-early meetings with particularly aggravating clients.
“Fine,” he said, eventually. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Merlin smiled, relieved. “Thanks. I just think it’s better t-”
“But we’re not having sex.”
Merlin let out a scoff. “What?”
“Either you tell me the truth about why you want to hide this, or we’re not having sex.”
Merlin crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows. “Your threats aren’t going to work on me, Arthur.”
Arthur gave him that lopsided grin of his that made the back of Merlin’s neck burn. “We’ll see.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It started off small. A brush of their hands by the water cooler, or Arthur bumping his knee against Merlin’s when they were seated next to each other in the conference room. It was sweet, and hardly distracting. But then, Arthur started wearing that cologne that Merlin liked a bit too much, and leaning all the way over him when taking a look at the agreements, instead of just taking the files back to his office, like he used to. With the heat of Arthur’s body behind him and the smell of his—utterly intoxicating cologne— all around him, Merlin had to remind himself not to let his conviction waver. The prat couldn’t always have his way.
Then, Arthur began joining Merlin and Gwaine in the squash court before work, clad in shorts that showed off his stupidly well defined calves, which—until then—Merlin hadn’t ever thought of as a particularly sexy part of a man’s body. But seeing Arthur run around in a sweat-damp t-shirt, his golden hair sticking to his forehead as he whooped loudly about scoring a point, seemed to awaken a part of him that he did not want to acknowledge.
He didn’t even want to think about the locker room after. Arthur really had an aggravatingly nice ass.
The cute knee bumps in the conference room turned into Arthur’s hand on his knee, then his thigh, rising steadily upwards until Merlin choked on his water, and started coughing so hard Uther Pendragon asked him if he was unwell.
But Merlin was stubborn. Arthur was being infuriating on purpose, and Merlin was not going to acknowledge that he was tempted. Was he expected to just give in to the prat’s every whims? No. He wasn’t going to cave. Especially not when Arthur came into his department wearing a light blue shirt that was a little bit too tight and which brought out the deep, fervent blue of his eyes, asking to use their photocopier.
“Of course,” Gretchen, Merlin’s department head said.
“I think you have a slightly different model down here. I’m not sure how to use it. Maybe Merlin could help me?”
Gretchen looked expectantly at Merlin, who breathed in sharply through his nose. He couldn’t very well say no in front of his department head. He ignored the smirk Will gave him as he stormed past Arthur and into the photocopy room.
The room was cramped, made even smaller by the four massive photocopiers they had crammed in there. He refused to look up when he heard Arthur come in, and when he heard the telltale click of the lock.
Why did they even have a lock in here?
“What do you need to photocopy?” Merlin asked, he kept his back to Arthur, his tone a lot ruder than he had intended. His skin already felt like it was buzzing with static. Damn Arthur Pendragon and his bleeding ultimatums.
Arthur reached past Merlin, his hand grazing Merlin’s side as he placed the document on the bed of the photocopier. Even though the rough fabric of his shirt, Merlin’s skin seared with heat at the touch.
“Need 30 copies of that,” Arthur said, his breath warm on Merlin’s neck.
Merlin slammed down the lid of the machine, ignoring the goosebumps that ran up his arm, and turned to face Arthur, realising belatedly that he was caught between Arthur and the massive copy machine. Maybe he hadn’t quite thought this through. Arthur smiled, crookedly, putting one arm up on the machine to trap Merlin in place.
“Is that all?” Merlin asked, forcefully.
“I think you should stay here. In case something goes wrong with the machine.” Arthur was pressing up against him now, his hips right up against Merlin’s own. Merlin felt the vibrations of the giant machine run through his spine.
He swallowed hard. “I think I should go back to work.”
“I’m your boss, Merlin. You have to listen to me.”
“No you’re not, and no I don’t.” Merlin said, though his thoughts were buzzing, melding into the whir of the copier.
He could feel Arthur’s breath on his lips now, hot and sweet. “These machines are so loud, I’ll wager we could be as loud as we want in here.”
“I… have no plans of being loud in here.”
“No?” Arthur asked, eyes boring into Merlin’s. “If you give me the chance, I bet I can make you scream my name.”
Merlin’s whole body was burning hot and felt stretched too-tight, like a rubber band about to snap. He could barely muster up his next words, which came out more like a croak. “I’m good.”
Arthur groaned loudly, pushing away from him. Merlin instantly missed the heat of his body. “God, Merlin, you are the most stubborn person I have ever met. You think I can’t tell how pent up you are? Why are you so insistent on keeping this a secret? Do you not want to be in a relationship with me?”
Merlin blinked, the fog in his brain clearing away, just a little. “What? Of course I do.”
“Then why the hell are you so insistent on keeping this a secret?”
Arthur was watching him, his expression was raw, his eyes wide. There he was, his emotion laid bare, and Merlin understood, suddenly, what it all meant. He’d thought it was harmless, asking Arthur to keep them a secret. But all this time, Arthur thought he didn’t care.
“Do you not want to be exclusive? Is this going too fast?” Arthur asked.
“It’s not like that,” Merlin said, putting as much earnestness into his voice as he could. “It’s…,” he ran his fingers through his hair, making one side stick up, and sighed. “It’s Gwaine and Will. And Morgana.”
“Huh? Do you mean… you’re… also seeing Gwaine, Will and my sister?”
“What? No! Yeesh. I don’t think I have that much game. No! It’s… they…,” Merlin sighed loudly, dropping his arms to his side. “They used to say I had a crush on you.”
Arthur stared back, uncomprehending. “Huh?”
“Well you used to be really bloody annoying when I first started working here! And I kept saying that I hated you, and they kept saying I had a crush, and I didn’t… not then… but then I did, but by then I didn’t want to admit it… and you were still a giant clotpole, by the way… so I kept saying that I didn’t like you and…” Merlin gestured wildly towards the door. “If they find out we’re together they’re never going to let me hear the end of it.”
Arthur was staring at him now like he’d grown a set of donkey ears and was braying.
“That’s what all this is about?” he asked, disbelief in his voice. “This is about your pride!?”
“It’s about my reputation,” Merlin insisted.
“But you are going to tell them eventually, aren’t you?”
“Of course, dollophead. Just… they’re going to be so annoying about it. I just want to put that off for as long as I can. Alright?”
“You really are infuriatingly stubborn,” Arthur huffed. He tugged Merlin by the tie, yanking him closer and kissing him hard on the mouth. Merlin’s skin burned. He was practically dizzzy when they pulled apart, his fingers still threaded through Arthur’s hair.
“So,” he gasped, trying to regain his breath, “are you done tormenting me now? You only said I had to tell you why.”
Arthur straightened out Merlin’s tie that had gone askew. “See you at my place after work then. I have a bet I have to make good on.”
Merlin grinned, his heart still hammering in his chest. “Don’t be so sure you’re gonna win.”
Arthur smirked. “This time, I’m pretty confident I will.”
#drabble game#my writing#bbc merlin#merthur#merlin x arthur#merlin#arthur pendragon#merlin fic#merlin ficlet#merlin emrys#i first thought It'd be really funny to find a totally non-smutty way to use this line#but then I was like let's just give the people what they want#you knew what you wanted when you asked for this I know it#anonymous#ask
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The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 5: Losing Control
Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader
Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3
Chapter Summary
About a week after Ammit's departure, Marc learns that Khonshu has been invited now to see Ammit in the mountains. His desire for you grows.
Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)
Major Tags/Warnings
Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence
Minor Tags/Warnings
NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID
Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!
Word Count: 3.1k
Marc brought your panties back to you that same night while you slept soundly. He’d left without a word because he didn’t want to make things more intimate than they already were. He didn’t even know you, and he already wanted you so badly. He breathed deeply while trying to imagine…what if he actually cared about you on a personal level?
He didn’t…but what if he did?
There was no way he’d be able to just sit idly by and watch while another man drank your blood, and touched you the way Khonshu did. In the week following that night, Marc made a point to avoid going to your room. It was far too risky, and Khonshu was keeping a closer eye on things ever since Ammit had taken her leave. It was obvious his master was suspicious, so it was best he kept a healthy distance from you.
Marc thought he would never know the nature of Ammit’s visit until Khonshu called both he and Arthur to his study to meet. The only reason he looked forward to seeing Khonshu anymore was because you were often there at his side, but not this time. Marc felt a pit in his stomach when you weren’t there. The only time he got to see you was when you were with him. He was determined to avoid going to your room again…ever again.
“Looking for something, Marc?” Khonshu teased, knowing exactly why Marc’s eyes were scanning around the room, as though he might see you hiding behind a curtain or perhaps you might pop out from beneath the desk.
“No, sir. Just making sure the room is secure,” he lied, watching Khonshu to see if he bought it.
If he didn’t buy it, he wasn’t making it obvious. Khonshu sighed, looking between his two knights, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He had that smug look splayed over his face while he looked them both over. Marc’s stomach turned, knowing what this look meant. Their master was plotting something.
“Ammit has invited us to her home in the mountains to discuss her plans with the upcoming annual cattle auction, and to review our peace treaty,” he scoffed, “she thinks I don’t know her true intentions.”
“Why didn’t you two discuss this when she was just here?” Marc asked, not keen on the thought of walking into the lion’s den to discuss something so trivial.
The other part of Marc, the selfish part, didn’t know if Khonshu intended to leave you here while they traversed into the mountains. If that were the case Marc didn’t know when he might see you again, and despite himself, he couldn’t bear that thought. What was he thinking? He’d only known you a few weeks and he was in a chokehold by your scent, your body, and everything that made you…you.
Dumbass, he thought to himself.
“Does it matter? Do you have duties other than serving me to keep you busy, Marc?” Khonshu looked at him with his brow furrowed in aggravation.
For fear of his fate should he continue questioning his master, Marc took a deep breath and nodded.
“Sorry I was just wondering, it could be a trap,” he proposed, trying to think of a more logical reason than his emotions to keep them in Khonshu’s mansion.
“I’ve already considered that,” Khonshu retorted.
“That’s why I’ll stay behind, Marc. You and Khonshu can go to Ammit, and I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Harrow explained with more attitude than was probably necessary.
Marc couldn’t continue protesting without looking suspicious, so he nodded, accepting defeat. Khonshu sighed, running a hand through his black locks, sauntering to the window to stare out at the moonlit bay. His face looked calm while he took in the view, and for a moment Marc wondered about Khonshu’s past. He didn’t know the man well, not on a personal level anyway, and yet he felt himself obligated to defend Khonshu with his life, all because he’d saved Marc so many years ago in Cairo.
“Marc, instruct the servants of your wing to ready your cattle, we’ll be leaving at dawn.” Khonshu spoke without turning to face either of them. “You may go now, Harrow, you can stay. We have much to discuss before you take over for me.”
Marc left the room and closed the door behind himself slowly. The light click was deafening in the otherwise silent hallway. He trudged toward his room, hands tucked into his pockets. Marc stopped in his tracks, right at the junction of your hallway and his. All the high-ranking vampires’ cattle were in your hall, doors lining the walls where each one had a lovely room with spacious quarters. It wasn’t practical, but Khonshu was nothing if not excessive.
“Master Spector,” a soft voice came from behind Marc, forcing him to jump.
Frightening a vampire was a near-impossible task…while they were focused that is. But since you’d arrived, Marc couldn’t focus to save his life. He spun around, seeing the head maidservant of that wing there to greet him. She gave him a friendly smile, as she often did.
“Uh, I was just looking for you. Would you ready my cattle for travel tomorrow? I don’t know when we’ll return, so we’ll need to spare a few maidservants as well.” He said, still trying to catch his breath from the start she gave him just a moment ago.
“Of course sir. Anything else?” She waited for him expectantly.
“No, no thank you.”
~~~~
In another couple of hours, he’d given up trying to fight with himself and Marc was climbing up to your window to see you. He didn’t know what would happen while he was away, and he needed to feel you again before he left. If he could just take in your touch, and that sickening scent one more time, he could get through until the next time he saw you. At least, that’s what he’d hoped.
You were sleeping, which made him somehow feel like less of a freak. If you weren’t conscious, then you wouldn’t know he was standing there awkwardly, watching your shoulder rise and fall with every breath while you slept with your back to him. He sighed in contentment, knowing that you would be safe while he was away, safe from Khonshu…and safe from himself.
“Are you going to join me or are you going to stand there?” you asked softly, turning around just enough to look at him.
Marc froze in place, feeling embarrassed for, once again, being caught red-handed by you in your bedroom. It took him a moment to process your words fully. Join you? Not a chance that you were asking him to join you.
“You don’t want that,” he said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yes I do,” you turned over to make your seriousness known.
“You want me to lay in bed with you? Why?” Marc was so confused, unable to understand why you, a human who knew what his kind was capable of, would want him to lay in your bed.
“You’ve felt what you do to me,” you started sliding off the bed, standing on your bare feet and gliding toward him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you I…”
Marc’s body was rigid as you trailed off and walked closer, soft hands reaching out to grip his forearms just below his rolled-up sleeves. You weren’t even looking him in the eye anymore, your pupils were dilated, and staring at his parted lips. Marc sighed out a soft breath just before he let you kiss him.
Your lips were still delicious, and your mouth even more so. Marc’s hands found your hips, fingers squeezing just hard enough to claim possession, but not hard enough to do any damage. He couldn’t leave a mark on you, despite wanting to desperately. In a sick way, Marc was willing to accept his death just to see the look on Khonshu’s face when he saw the way his servant branded you.
“Take me, Marc,” you whispered against his open mouth before he closed it over yours once more.
Fuck he wanted to.
Marc’s lips stole a loud gasp from you as he pushed you backward, landing on top of you as your knees gave out at your bedside. He felt his cock pressing incessantly against his jeans, desperate for you once more. He fumbled with his buckle, the obstacle only serving to make him want you more. The leather against denim whooshed as he pulled the belt free from the loops, beginning to work on the button.
He could feel you spreading your legs even wider, as though you were trying to pull him into your body. Marc was the only supernatural creature in the room, but your moans called him to you like a siren song. His breath quickened as he finally found freedom from his pants, pulling them down below his knees.
“Mm, help…” you whined, tugging at your shorts and trying to get them off, but to no avail.
Marc leaned back, pulling your shorts and panties off quickly, tossing them aside before caging you between his elbows once again. His breathing was labored, leaking cock so desperate it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. The anticipation alone was almost enough to make him come without any friction at all. He tasted your sweet lips again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths with such hunger.
“Marc…” your voice sounded so small, so insignificant compared to the obnoxiously loud thoughts plaguing his mind.
Fuck her, bite her, kill her, fuck her, fill her, drink her…
He brought his lips to your neck, kissing your skin and tasting the salt of your sweat. His cock twitched and his hips jerked forward involuntarily, fat tip brushing against your slick entrance. You spread your legs more, your body telling him in a thousand ways the same thing you’d been saying all along, ‘take me, Marc’.
He could do it. He was right there, leaking head sitting just barely in your needy little hole. You whimpered, hips arching upward and forcing a little more of his length inside of you. Marc shuttered, feeling his teeth graze your neck as he lost control. The part of him that wanted to drink you dry was winning.
“Marc, no!” You said just over a whisper.
He woke from his trance, hearing your words break through the internal struggles of his mind. He growled in frustration and pulled back, feeling the disappointment in your airy exhale. He was disappointed too, but he couldn’t risk hurting you. Marc slid off the bed onto his knees, gripping the space where your hips and thighs meet, tugging you toward his face. Your pretty cunt glistened by the moonlight coming through the window, juices dripping down your lips and into your asscheeks.
Marc felt his eyelids drop in arousal while he stared at the beauty before him. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to your folds, kissing them once and feeling your thighs tremble in response. Your sensitive reaction made Marc’s cock twitch again, inciting a deep, low rumble in his chest. He breathed out slowly, licking his lips and tasting your sweet juices. If your blood was even half as delicious, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to resist emptying you completely.
He dragged two fingers between your soaking lips, collecting a small pool of your arousal in his palm before bringing it down to his leaking cock. Marc wrapped his fist around himself, letting your slick guide his hand easier along his length. A growl escaped him just as he covered your needy cunt with his mouth.
Marc’s brain went blank.
He had to stop pumping his fist before he came too quickly. The taste of your body, - your wet slick - was maddening.
“Mm, put your l-legs on my shoulders,” he managed to say before your alluring scent pulled him back in.
He was biting back the urge to moan as he felt your legs wrap around his head, thighs brushing along his ears gently. Using his free hand - the hand that wasn’t choking the life out of his aching dick - he pressed against your stomach, keeping you firmly in place. A sharp gasp shot out of your lungs, making his cock leak even more. He sighed, dragging his tongue between your folds, moaning into your mound as though he were savoring every drop your body fed him.
This was the first time Marc ever truly felt powerful in all his life. He wasn’t hurting you, and instead, he was simply enjoying you. He was enjoying your sounds, the little breathless whines that slipped through your parted lips. He enjoyed the smell of you, that sweet scent that held him in a chokehold every damn day since he’d met you. And dammit if he didn’t enjoy that taste, the distinct flavor, unlike anything he’d ever felt on his tongue in all his days.
You were too good to be true.
“Oh, M-Marc,” you breathed, reaching a hand up to grip his slicked-back curls.
He exhaled with a low groan, slowly starting to jerk himself again while you tugged and pulled his face tighter against your center. Your legs were vibrating against his ears, heels digging into his back while you pulled him in deeper.
Needy little thing, he thought, as if he weren’t twice as desperate.
The wet sounds of his slurping tongue mixed with your cries. Marc started rutting into his own hand, imagining he was fucking the cunt he ate from. He dragged his tongue down between your crevices, cleaning each fold before dipping his tongue into your fluttering hole. If he moved his head just right, he could brush the tip of his nose over your swollen clit - just right -.
“O-oh, Marc!” You rasped out in a high-pitched whisper. “Y-yes oh god f-fuhh…”
The hand Marc had on your stomach worked together with your hand in his hair to bring your bodies as close as possible. He couldn’t get any closer to your cunt unless he broke his nose and for a moment he thought it might be worth it. He could feel your thighs tense a bit, and your hand grip his hair harder. You started gasping as if you’d run out of air. Part of him wished you were stronger so you could really hurt him.
“Why do you taste so–” Marc murmured against your mound before cutting himself off, going back in to slurp more from you.
Marc jerked his hand faster, the sensations surrounding him becoming too much to handle. Your scent, your taste, the way you pulled his hair, it was all driving him mad. He breathed against you, moving his tongue faster so he could hear you too. You shook, pretty voice wavering with every moan that left you.
“Marc, you’re so g-good at this I…oh god I’m…”
Marc felt your pussy contract around his tongue, moving the tip of his nose in faster circles to make you squirm more. Your juices were coating his tongue and he felt an unimaginable euphoria burst through his mind. He panted, sounding more pathetic than he cared to acknowledge but he couldn’t help himself. You were writhing now, trying to get out from under him. He knew he should stop because, as you kept shrieking, it was ‘too much’, but he couldn’t.
Marc’s hand pushed down on you harder, and with one more sharp inhale of your delicious little cunt, he finally felt it. His orgasm washed over him like soft velvet, bringing him the sweetest relief he’d felt in ages. Marc let go of you quickly, holding his palm under himself to catch the white ropes spilling from the fat head of his twitching cock. He was loud, louder than he should’ve been, but he was sure no one would hear him, and he couldn’t keep his composure anymore.
He caught most of it in his hand, but a few stray drops landed on the floor. He would’ve just let it go, making a mess all over your bedding without care, but if the maids found out, and if even one of them breathed a word to Khonshu, it wouldn’t end well for either of you.
Marc leaned forward, pressing another soft kiss to your pussy lips before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. For a moment you both lay there, the room filled with nothing but the sound of both your breathing returning to normal. If he could die like that by choice he would, eyes closed with his face next to your scent, your fingers idly carding through his hair. Marc sighed using his free hand to tuck his dick back in his pants before standing up on shaking legs.
“Just gonna…gonna use your bathr–”
“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist tightly, looking up at him with eyes that said ‘can I taste you?’
As if he could read your mind, Marc nodded, watching with mixed awe and adoration as you brought your lips to his hand. You pursed your lips into an ‘O’, sucking in and slurping his cum right out of his palm. Marc felt his cock coming alive once more, but he didn’t want to press his luck by staying in there much longer. It wasn’t only the constant looming threat of Khonshu discovering you both that frightened him, but the lack of control he might experience if he lingered in your scent for too long.
“God you…you’re something huh?” Marc asked, mouth hanging open while he watched you dart your tongue out, lapping at his palm. “F-fuck.”
Marc watched you drag your lips over each finger before lowering your entire mouth on each one, making a show of your task. You always looked so meek and innocent with Khonshu, but the way you sucked on his fingers, he could tell you were a bit more experienced than you pretended to be. You moaned as you went down on his middle finger, and before things could go any further, Marc pulled his hand from you.
“Enough,” he said coldly.
He hated that disappointed look in your eye, the one that begged for more; that begged him to stay just a little longer and to fuck your brains out. Marc zipped and buttoned his pants before darting for the window, taking off before he could change his mind. He couldn’t stop smelling your aroma on his nose all night, and he couldn’t decide if it was a good thing, or if it was just torture.
Who was he kidding? Everything about you was torture.
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#moon knight#marc spector#marc spector x f!reader#marc spector headcanon#marc spector x reader#marc spector x you#marc spector smut#moon knight drabble#marc spector drabble#moon knight smut#marc spector fanfiction#marc spector fan fiction#moon knight fanfiction#moon knight fan fiction#marc spector fic#marc spector fanfic#marc spector fan fic#moon knight fic#moon knight fanfic#moon knight fan fic
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NO FOR REAL Jonathan is carrying the entire man team on his back here
He likely pisses Dracula off even more with such efficient work, thanks to Mina's foresight and mind. But he UTILISES IT and does all the hard work himself.
Someone buy HIM a drink of his preferences istg
Shout out to Arthur for bringing the dogs though!
It's really amazing how the Harkers are portrayed as this super efficent working power couple who are so in sync with eachother that in a few days they managed to track down Dracula's whereabouts like it was nothing.
By the power of the paper trail, a typewriter, and lawyering skills.
It's not an easy job either, but the way the collected everything to how Mina was transcribing, to where Jonathan is going; it really tells of a nearly perfect work harmony cultivated through years, and years of being together.
You can even see how Mina acts as a manager + secretary with all of the information that Jonathan brought her. Jonathan tracks down the raw information, and does field work, Mina analyses it then transcribes it in order of importance, and it's content. Then, she tells Jonathan where to follow.
Which is why is so frustating to see Mina fall prey of the same mistakes that ended up with Lucy dead. It's so sad, and frustating to see both Jonathan and Mina not communicating with eachother anymore thanks to their misplaced trust in Van Helsing.
On top of them being subjected for the first time in their married life to expected social gender roles of the victorian era.
"I could see from Jonathan's manner that he had something important to communicate." - Mina Harker.
"it wrung my heart to think that I had had to keep anything from her and so caused her inquietude." - Jonathan Harker.
Both of them know that this new arrangement is basically destroying that strong communication they had built for years. This is just speculation, but maybe if Jonathan convinces the Suitor Squad and Van Helsing to send Mina home, then maybe they can work again in secret instead of waiting more.
Because so far I haven't seen neither anyone else do something until Jonathan arrived, nor a single mention of archiving the information that ONLY Jonathan collected today. You know, that really important task which is needed to track down the Count, that task that Mina was doing perfectly before being locked in a metaphorical tower?
#Bram Stoker realized that the Harkers were too powerful so he put Mina out in the sexism corner#Mina justs needs to point while typewriting where Jonathan must go and he comes back with everything#dracula daily#dracula#jonathan harker#mina harker#mina murray
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do you have anymore love spell/potion recs? it's such a great trope!
The Kissing Fever by Camelots_Daffodil (@camelots-daffodil)
It's spring time in Camelot and you know what that means... love is in the air! Only Merlin thinks that there might be a little too much of it when everyone in the land seems to be unable to stop themselves from kissing whoever is closest. As usual, it's up to him to fix the magical issue before anyone can realise that there's a magical issue in need of fixing.
Written for Merlin Bingo 2022: Under a Spell
~~~
i laughed so hard reading this fic, 100/10 would recommend
2. Not Just a Kiss by Sorceressofdragons
Though Arthur hadn’t felt it, time had passed while he’d been with the Sidhe after Camlaan. When he returned to Camelot, fully healed and with Merlin at his side, it was to find Gwen remarried and with a family. He grieved but stepped aside, only wanting his one-time queen and love to be happy.
Several years later, he and Merlin are bespelled by a dying witch, who insists they are both fools. They soon learn that if they don’t kiss every few hours, they are stricken with a severe illness. Knowing it will put the crown at risk, they keep it secret from all but a select few and quietly adjust their lives around it. Soon it becomes apparent that there is only one cure for the spell, but Arthur has long since come to terms with his unrequited love for his manservant and is afraid of all that will change if they go through with it.
~~~
ok not necessarily a love spell, but a you have to smooch spell, which equally slaps just as hard
3. does he know? by a_written_dream (@a-written-dream)
Merlin and Arthur encounter a sorceress with less than good intentions in the forest. Her scheme doesn’t go quite according to plan, though, and Merlin is pretty sure Arthur is now enchanted to be in love with him.
So why isn't Arthur acting any different?
~~~
ahhh so fluffyyyyy and cuteee
#merlin#merthur#merlin fic#bbc merlin#merlin x arthur#merthur fluff#merthur fanfiction#merthur fic#merthur fanfic#merthur fic rec#merlin bbc#merthur fic recs#love potion au#love spell au#pining!arthur#mutual pining#pining!merlin#pining arthur#pining
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Overprotective. (MS47)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Word count: 1022.
Warnings: None. Sorry if my English isn't perfect it's not my first language.
Mick moved around pretty anxious since she promised she would be there at the Haas garage supporting him, but even after the third practice session there were still no signs of her anywhere.
She wouldn't let him down, it was so out of character of her just the fact of showing up late that it made him want to throw up, his overthinker mind was already making up the worst scenarios.
He took his phone from the table where it was charging and stared at the pic of them he had set as his homescreen, he smiling looking to the camera with pure joy in his eyes while she kissed his cheek, the only picture they had from their first date.
Without thinking it any more he dealed her number, frowning he waited patiently for her to pick up, nothing, after three rings she sent him to voicemail.
The blonde took a deep breath really confused about all, it didn't make any sense that suddenly she wasn't interested anymore, not when they had worked so hard to keep their secret, or maybe that was the problem, she was tired of everything.
He wasn't even thinking anymore about qualifying, his mind was in agony thinking of her and what he felt was the most real love he had ever experienced.
"Mick" the voice of one of his mechanics made him look away from his phone. "There is some girl in Ferrari merch saying that you need her here" he stated looking a little bit annoyed.
"Let her in, please" the driver told him with an apologetic look, he was embarrassed to make people do more than what they were supposed to, the mechanic just nodded and left to the front.
Few moments later she was hugging him by the waist super tight with her face hidden in his chest saying 'sorry' repetitively in a soft voice.
He couldn't feel mad, the moment he had her in his arms was the definition of relief, the blonde cupped his girls face giving some distance between them and softly pecked her lips, she looked at him with big eyes.
"You have to be kidding me" a manly voice interrupted in the couple's love bubble.
Both of their faces turned pale when they recognized the voice, the girl turned around to see her brothers looking at her.
Lorenzo with an eyebrow arched, Charles that was the one who interrupted frowning and Arthur saying sorry with his eyes feeling really guilty.
" Care to explain? " the older of the Leclerc's asked trying to make sure she knew that this was a big deal.
" Oh no, she has to explain herself" Charles interrupted " Y/N I feel really betrayed".
Some salty tears started to form in the girl eyes, this wasn't the way she wanted her older brothers to found out, her eyes then went to her younger brother, she couldn't process how he decided that it was the moment to tell them.
" I'm sorry " Arthur mumbled like he could read her mind he started explaining everything to the couple " They made me bring them where you really where when Charlotte told Charles that you wanted to leave Ferrari's garage during FP3"
The Haas driver felt like the worst human on earth when he saw how hurted she looked, Arthur wasn't the one to blame when they were the ones that made him keep their secret until they were ready.
" Charles, Lorenzo, it's not that big of a deal" he started speaking pulling out all of his courage to try and make the situation at least a little bit better.
"Charles I love him" the girl stated all of the sudden making the german shut his mouth while he looked her with adoration in his eyes feeling his heart beating hard against his chest.
Arthur smiled from ear to ear, he had been the first supporter of that relationship been the one that helped them sneaking out, it was amazing to hear that his sister had fallen in love.
The other two softened their clenched jaws making Mick able to take a deep breath relaxing a little bit.
The german took the opportunity and hugged the girl from behind, holding her between his arms.
" And I love her" he said completely sure about his feelings.
Lorenzo putted then a grin in his face and patted Charles in the shoulder.
" The qualifications are in less than half an hour" the oldest finally spoke calmly " we will discuss this further during dinner ".
The Ferrari driver looked at his sister with the softer eyes they always gave each other and nodded, then he followed his big brother out of the Haas garage and pulling Arthur with him.
Now was the turn of the girl to let out a sight, she was holding her breath and didn't even notice until now.
" That was.. "
"Yeah" the blonde agreeded resting his head on his girls shoulder.
---
" You break her heart and I break you damn legs, is that clear Schumacher? " Charles told his colleague once they were both off the cars and walking in the pit lane.
The German nodded while his friend Esteban laughted a little by the sudden threat between the other two drivers..
" Good, and don't you dare been all touchy with her when I am looking or I will throw up"
When Charles said the last part Pierre that was walking next to them couldn't help but turn his attention to the conversation raising an eyebrow.
"So the rumors were true? " the French man asked.
"What rumors?" Charles asked back in confusion.
"Oh, Yuki told me that he saw them kissing"
"And you didn't tell me!" The Ferrari driver shouted to his best friend.
"I forgot" he smiled to wink at Mick "if I was you I would be glad that is Mick it could be worst, think about this, your sister and Lando"
Leclerc made a face in disgust of just the idea.
" I will take that as a compliment" the blonde german stated.
#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher#formula 1#f1edit#f1 x reader#mick schumacher x you#haas f1 team#charles leclerc#pierre gasly#arthur leclerc#esteban ocon#daniel ricciardo#yuki tsunoda#sebastian vettel#max verstappen#ferrari#lando norris#ms47
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do you have any merthur fic recommendations that have happy endings?
Do I ever ! Strap on, I've got quite the list.
Tagged Angst With A Happy Ending :
Take A Letter, Merlin by Caledonia/@iamcaledonia (7870 words, Modern Era)
Arthur is an emotionally repressed workaholic who is unhappily married. Merlin is his loyal and competent personal assistant. One Monday, Merlin comes to work to find that, over the weekend, Arthur has dictated a letter for Merlin that is about to change both of their lives.
A song fic inspired by the 1969 classic, 'Take A Letter, Maria' by R. B. Greaves.
Kiss Today Goodbye, by Cithara/@citharaposts (5337 words, Canon Era, Divergence from s02e13)
When Arthur regains consciousness in time to hear Merlin confront the dragon, his world is turned on its head by the revelations that follow.
Turning the Page, by @schweetheart and @queerofthedagger (19050 words, Canon Divergence, Epistolary)
Without intending to, Arthur pushes Merlin just one step too far. Now he's left without his manservant but a hundred questions, a world of hurt, and guilt that clings to him like a shadow. Well, and a notebook filled with drawings because apparently, Merlin can draw on top of being a sorcerer. No matter how often Arthur tells himself that he just wants to forget, he can't help but come back to the collection of sketches and notes, a chronicle of all that Merlin has done.
Maybe their story isn't quite over yet.
The Knights of the Table, by DrJackAndMissJo/@drjackandmissjo (9198 words, Modern Era, Food Critic and Chef AU)
'Can you even believe this guy?" Gwaine asked, offended and almost breathless as he popped himself on Percival’s counter.
There was no need for any of the other men to ask who he was talking about. Everyone knew about the devilish creature that wrote the restaurant and food reviews on Camelot Weekly.
“What makes you even think it’s a guy?” asked Lance as he took the newspaper from the Irish man, “I’m pretty sure that it is a demon sent straight from hell to torture all of us!”
Tagged Happy Ending :
Hope On A Tuesday Afternoon, by arsenicandsunshine (8985 words, Modern Era, Housemates, Idiots in Love, Getting Together)
Arthur likes his life. Why wouldn't he? Nice flat, all to himself, stable job. Friends. Yep, he's set all right.
Or, he is until he ends up with an unexpected flatmate. Merlin certainly does have a knack for turning Arthur's life upside down.
a long, long day, by @oncefutureemrys (1237 words, Canon Era, Secret Relationship, baths and massages)
Merlin was beyond tired of it all. He just wanted one moment where… it could be just him. Just him and Arthur, just the two of them, without the rest of the world interfering. But alas, Merlin was no normal person and neither was Arthur, and the chances of them having a regular day were almost as likely as Uther deciding to stop hating magic. So, he walked into Arthur’s room, ready for more late night chores, a slight slump in his posture. To anyone else, it would seem as if he was perfectly fine, usual Merlin just slightly tired from a long day’s work. But Merlin knew it was a bit more than that. And so did Arthur, apparently, because when he stumbled in, he found the idiot sitting casually behind his desk, an air of amusement and playfulness surrounding him, a teasing grin forming on his stupid, stupid (handsome) face. Or: Merlin's had a long day, so Arthur takes care of him.
Suffering in Silence, by TheCourtSorcerer/@tcs-main (3205 words, Canon Divergence, Sir Leon-The-Long-Suffering, POV Leon)
He couldn’t take it anymore.
He had to say something. He couldn’t keep silent anymore.
Day in, day out…
The constant borderline scandalous looks, the barely concealed innuendos, the incredibly unsubtle touches, all of it!
He was going to lose his mind.
How could two people be so blind?!
So, that’s what led him to the tavern that night, across from Gwaine, a hint of regret tugging at his mind that he steadfastly ignored.
“Okay… How do we get them together?”
Secrets & Lies, by LiGi/@little-ligi (13333 words, Canon Era, Divergence, Arthur Finds Out, Protective Arthur, Friends to Lovers)
Arthur had finally put his finger on it.
The thing that had made Merlin stand out, the thing that had intrigued him about the boy ever since the first time he’d met him. The thing that was going to get him killed… Merlin had magic. Not only had it, but used it freely all the bloody time. It was only a matter of time before someone saw him do it, and then they’d report him to the king and Merlin would be dragged out into the courtyard and executed.
Well, not if Arthur had anything to do about it.
Mid series one, Arthur, for once not being totally oblivious, discovers that Merlin has magic. The problem is, having magic gets people killed and Arthur very much prefers Merlin alive. It turns out making sure nobody sees Merlin do magic is rather a full-time job however...
A Universe Which Freely Gives, by @psychotic-fangirl369 (26455 words, Post Canon, Reincarnation, Arthur Returns, Getting Together)
Arthur returns… but because of a series of unlikely events (and perhaps a bit of morose dragging of feet because he can't bring himself to believe the signals), Merlin misses the boat. By the time he makes it to the lake, signs of Arthur abound but Arthur is nowhere to be found. Magical tracking being less reliable than one might think, when Merlin finally does manage to find him Arthur is bizarrely well-adjusted, living in a flatshare in London with roommates who think he's batty but mostly harmless, and working an improbable job. Enter: Merlin, who Arthur absolutely is not expecting to still be alive.
So Where Are My Flowers?, by @tehfanglyfish (1365 words, Canon Era, Pining, Flowers, Magic Reveal)
A question asked as a joke leads to years of fresh flowers waiting for Arthur each morning until the one day he almost screws things up.
Balancing the Scale, by sunsetmoonrise (20528 words, 5+1, Canon Era Divergence, Slow Burn, Pining)
Five times Merlin didn't realise Arthur was protecting him, and the one time he did.
Alright, that's quite a lot already! These are the latest in my bookmarks, don't hesitate to ask me again if you want more!
#replies#2012throwback#merlin#merthur#merthur fics#merthur fic#merthur fic rec#fic rec#happy endings#happy fics#angst with a happy ending#rapha talks#rapha reads
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finally!!! my month and a half late dutp mermay pic is DONE. i have a whole, like, story idea for this pic, which you can read here on my twitter! EDIT: fuck twitter, i deleted it, so the story idea is now under the cut if you're interested! i think signy and audwin from time princess' swan lake story can work really well with a mermaid twist on their characters. also i just want mermaid audwin and human signy to smooch a lot uwu
also. nothin' like drawing mermaids to kick your ass into figuring out how tf to draw water lmaooo
the story goes something like this: signy is the daughter of some rich guy and they've always been by the ocean (maybe the company has something to do with the ocean?), and i haven't quite figured out what he does, but either he or uncle arthur start getting into some shifty shit and maybe get into offshore oil drilling, or something that will hardcore pollute the water. she's expected to take over whatever the company is, but she doesn't give a shit and like, just wants to be a marine biologist. she has her own boat (bc rich people privileges) and often goes out into the water to just get away from it all and chill, and maybe she does some diving to look at the fish and coral n stuff. idk how any of this works irl lmao. but anyways, audwin has been watching her for a while, because humans are very interesting, before she finally spots him. after freaking out, she decides to keep him a secret because even as a marine biologist or whatever, she knows a find this big would be more dangerous to the merman himself than beneficial for any research. so she goes out to their meeting spot to hang out with him most days, and even though they cant communicate, she talks to him and he seems to understand. he brings her gifts and she brings him human stuff to look at. eventually she says something like, "i wish we could talk, i so badly wish to know more about you," and audwin's like. welp that's enough consent for me. so he uses his magic to turn her into a mermaid. and of course she FREAKS but then she's like!! oh fuck!! we can talk now! i can explore without needing air!! tell me and show me EVERYTHING. so they explore and they talk. audwin explains, a bit vaguely, about how he "doesn't belong with the rest of the mer people" even though they are a social species, so having to fend for himself for his whole life has left him a bit scrawny and, while he would have been riddled with scars from having to fight with other creatures on his own, has become very good at magic to defend himself. and now that they can understand each other and have an actual mutual conversation, audwin's like. oh heck. i like this girl a lot (assuming he didn't already consider her his mate because of the constant exchange of gifts).
just before she's about to be like okay this was fun but i gotta get back to my life on land, they spot a body floating in the water, and before audwin can pull her back signy goes to it and pulls the unconscious man to the shore and performs cpr and brings him back. he looks weirdly like audwin. she can't speak in any human language anymore (mermaids in this universe don't have the right vocal chord structure or whatever to speak human language), having taken the form of a mermaid, but he seems to understand what she's saying anyways? how could that be? she turns to audwin for an explanation and he's like, yeah so uh, the magic i used to give you a tail actually just swapped your human parts for another mer person's mermaid parts. so i guess this is the guy you swapped with and he's actually a mermaid, so he knows what you're saying. and signy is of course PISSED she's like this random other mermaid dude coulda died just for me to have a bit of fun?? that's fucked dude. and audwin's like, "why would i give a shit when i was cast out as a baby from the rest of mermaid society? YOU are my only friend." and then the other guy, who introduces himself as aldous (and i guess a side effect of audwin's magic is that he can fluently speak english or whatever now lmao), is like. yeah that's cool and all but, this is actually terrible fucking timing. some dude just came into my kingdom and is fucking everything up hardcore and i need to be there to fight him off. but even if audwin switched their tail/legs back, aldous would be too weak from, yknow, almost dying from drowning to actually fight whoever is fuckin shit up. so signy is like ME AND AUDWIN WILL DO IT and before audwin can even say anything, she grabs her cell phone from her shorts (let's just assume her clothes are on her boat and the boat is nearby lmao) and has aldous call her friend ben (the guard from the story!) and relay a message to him to meet her at the shore. he does and he sees the situation, and with aldous translating, signy tells ben to take care of this random dude she found on the beach. "dont ask questions its just REALLY IMPORTANT." and he's like. fuck okay sure. and just before signy and audwin go off to see what's going on with the mer kingdom, aldous gives audwin a pendant that will grant him access inside no matter what. every mer person has a pendant that has magic to allow them into their respective kingdom, but aldous had always had two of them, a gold and green one and a silver and purple one, and he feels that maybe the purple one belongs to audwin.
so aldous goes with ben to ben's place to rest and recoup, and signy and audwin go to the kingdom to see what their deal is. i dunno what's going on there, i haven't quite figured it out, but basically the king, aldous' (and audwin's) dad, is losing his marbles and made some kind of pact with a human who ends up being signy's dad or uncle, but then her dad/uncle was just going to betray the agreement and kill them all for access to an oil drilling spot? i dunno. but i have a scene in my head where they hide in what seems to be some kind of abandoned prison with one cell, and there ends up being one mer woman in there who ends up calling audwin's name when she sees him. audwin is shocked, and approaches carefully, and she cries while she explains she's so happy to see him alive and well. she tells him that his father separated him from his family just a bit after she'd birthed him and her brother because he was certain he was going to fulfill some kind of prophecy and overthrow him, and then he cast her into prison because she was so heartbroken that she was deemed "mad." the king brought up aldous as an only child with no memory of his twin brother or his mother, but always had an inkling that something was missing because of the second pendant he'd always had, which was given to him as a baby by their mother before she was taken away. audwin despairs at the fact that his mother and the life he should have had were ripped away from him by one man, and hugs his mother tight before swearing to take the king down.
some big climax happens and they take down the mer king and throw him in the cell that used to house the queen (cuz im not creative enough to come up with a non-prison sentence even tho fuck prisons and also acab irl), who then takes her rightful place back at the throne, and they also take down signy's dad/uncle or whatever, i dunno, i haven't figured this shit out yet lmaoo. but anyways, they sort it all out and they fall in love n all that shit. audwin speaks to his mother and tells her, he's never belonged to mer society and trying to integrate now would majorly suck, especially without signy at his side, who has to go back to land to give aldous his mer body back. he'd rather be by signy's side, separated by land and ocean, than not be near her at all. she's his one true friend. his mother understands, and bestows a new pendant to signy that, when worn, will allow her to understand the mer language even as a human, and allow her back into mer society should they ever return. they go back to the surface and they get ben and aldous back to the shore and audwin swiches signy and aldous' human and mer bodies back. it's a sad occassion. signy doesn't want to leave audwin behind in the water, and it's clear that aldous and ben have developed some kind of feelings for each other (do i have aldous and the guard fall in love in every dutp swan lake story i've ever thought up? YES). ben suddenly pipes up and is like, audwin switch with me!! and everyone else is like HUH?? ben explains that he doesn't really have anything in the human world to miss, he's not leaving behind much [insert some kind of tragic story for ben that i haven't thought up yet], and if they switch, they can both be with the people they want to spend their lives with. so they switch. audwin becomes a human and ben a merman, and then signy's like. welp, guess i don't need this anymore, and gives ben her pendant. they're all smiles and hugs, and then before they say goodbye and leave, audwin turns to aldous and says, "hey, say hi to mom for me." and aldous, who doesn't know they're brothers, is like WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED WHILE I WAS GONE--
and anyways. aldous gets to meet his mother (who will know exactly what happened with signy and auwdin the second she sees ben with her pendant and it makes her smile) and stay with ben who adapts to mer society fairly easily, and audwin gets to stay with his best friend and love in the human world. signy's dad's company tanks which she is glad for, and maybe she and audwin use the money she has to open up some kind of ocean clean-up project or something. standard cheesy barbie-like plot haha. wham bam, signy x audwin mermay story
will i ever write it? nope. if anyone wants to yoink this idea, go ahead! just credit me (and also @ me so i can read it hehe) !!!
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i based the boat off of this pic of a greenline 39 yacht
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consider supporting me on ☕ ! ko -fi. com / maddsmallow (without spaces)
#dress up time princess#dutp#time princess#dutp swan lake#dutp signy#dutp audwin#signy x audwin#mermay#my art#the blogger says words
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Ambivalence
King of Chaos Arthur x Male!Reader
Warnings: Reader is the son of Zeldris and Gelda, Spoilers from manga chapters 104 - 108 aprox. (nothing really big, just storywise)
Word count: 1342
Thank the anon who requested it for his OC! I tried contacting him days ago because I'm not used to doing requests specifically for OCs (I prefer that my works are more "general" so the most people are able to insert themselves or their OCs in the stories) but since this was requested some time ago I couldn't receive an answer. In the end I decided to publish it writing (Y/N) instead of the OC's name, but keeping his main characteristics. That way if the OP who requested it comes through this he can just insert their name and know it was written specially for him, and at the same time other people can enjoy easily the oneshot too! Hope you like it!
Generally speaking, Arthur's knights don't usually comprehend some of his majesty behaviours. His mood changes whenever you least expect it. Just when you think you know his strategy, he says something you would never have thought about. Was he having a good or a bad day behind that smile? Who knows. But what they do know is his hatred for other races except humans.
Except that maybe that isn't really true, since their king has been visited by a certain someone from time to time, who was not only a demon, but half demon and half vampire.
Today was one of those days. The secret entrance that connected Camelot with the demon realm (and that was made specially for him) activated, and a familiar face passed through. Arthur didn't waste no time, and upon noticing his entrance he went to welcome him back
"A surprise visit today (Y/N)? You always like to impress me, don't you?" - The King approached him laughing - "Although I would prefer if you told me beforehand, that way I can at least prepare something and make sure I have no appointments"
(Y/N) didn't change his serious expression, arms crossed and looking directly to Arthur while the entrance behind him closed.
"I wish I was here just to kill some time, but this time was urgent. I couldn't stay anymore there"
Arthur stopped laughing and tilted his head, now curious of what had happened for him to be talking like that.
"That really isn't new with you, but what happened this time?"
"The four knights have entered the demon realm" - Arthur smirked at the information, seeing that Guinevere's words weren't a lie.
"Oh, I know, some of my knights are already following them, anything else I should know?"
"Well, I know my parents have already talked to the green haired one, Percival I think it was... and he was accompanied by a few more people..." - (Y/N) looked away while thinking for a few seconds, with a subtly sorrowful expression on his face that only could be noticed while paying extreme attention to him - "Mmh... I also saw my cousin there, Tristan... don't tell me he is what I think he is" He looked back at Arthur, who was smiling once again, trying to control his laugh
"So you didn't know it? I thought your parents maybe had told you... ~ But yes, he is one of the prophecy knights"
(Y/N) frowned, not wanting to believe a close member of his family had just become one of his biggest enemies
"By my father's look, it seems that he didn't know about it"
"So Meliodas didn't want to risk his son's life by spreading information, typical of him" - Arthur shrugged and started walking, inviting (Y/N) to follow him - "It must have been a big surprise for all of you"
"Everything has been a surprise since they entered the realm if I'm being honest. I've heard my father talk wonders about Percival, it looks like the whole clan adores him since years ago, and I didn't know anything about what had happened until now. It feels like my parents decided to drop every ounce of unknown information today, and the worst part is that it affects us" - (Y/N) clicked his tongue thinking about it - "I hate it"
"Can't blame you. I don't like them either ~" - Arthur responded with a bratty laugh, followed by a deep sigh from his companion, which made him stop his laughing once again, looking at him out of the corner of his eye - "Sorry, but you already know the story behind it, I can't bring myself to tolerate them just one bit"
"Yeah, I know, I can't defend them I guess. Anyways, I do need to tell you something else"
Arthur turned his head to face him again
"Wait, there's even more?" - (Y/N) nodded, looking at his surprised violet eyes
"Did you know that another portal to Camelot has appeared in the demon realm?"
Arthur's eyes opened with surprise, being this information the only thing he really didn't know about
"I didn't have any idea. I've never done any other connection with the demon realm besides your entrance. And I also didn't sense anyone entering from there"
"No wonder, since that opening is inaccessible for now. It's on the Behemoth's back, a giant monster which was put to sleep almost 15 years ago. I heard my father say that it recently woke up and now can be a big problem for us living in the realm, since when it's active it swallows up all life, including us demons or vampires... If that isn't your doing or your knights then I don't know what's happening"
"I see, well I don't think I have to worry that much then; although it might be because of those knights of the apocalypse, everyday giving me headaches... And besides, that would gather the attention to that one entrance, and not the one I made exclusively for you, which benefits us both, don't you think so? - Arthur smiled happily, closing his eyes - "If it ever becomes a problem you can come here! That's all I care about that matter"
"Thinking about it that way, I guess you are right" - (Y/N) lowered his head, thinking about his words and all the information he had to understand in just a few hours. Arthur opened his eyes, looking at him, noticing how lost in his thoughts (Y/N) was.
"Too much information huh? Understandable... but I'm glad you didn't waste time and came as fast as possible to explain it to me" - Arthur patted his head softly - "I knew making an exception for you was the right decision. But I also feared this moment, the moment when you would doubt yourself and how to proceed. Now that your parents are also involved, along with your clans, and helping my enemies; you want to help me, but at the same time it becomes more difficult, am I right? Can I also say that you might be a little scared? Scared of making the wrong decision, scared of losing what you love here in Camelot if you fail, and being considered a traitor at the same time. Nowhere to go in the end"
(Y/N) looked back at him, alarmed, trying to answer him fast, but the only words that initially left his lips were gibberish
"Arthur I-! I swore to help you and I'll keep doing it, it's just... too much information for the day as you said... I'll need to prepare myself for everything" - He took a deep breath - "But I know I'm in the right place, and I won't look back now... Because, I can also count with your protection, right?"
Arthur took back his hand from his head, smiling softly
"(Y/N), I'll be clear: Your safety is my priority, don't ever think the contrary" - A tint of blush appeared on both of them - "I'm just advising you to be careful so we don't need to take greater measures. Nothing would make happier than if you could live a "normal" life seeing the circumnstances. And think about having one of my marks, it would be safer"
(Y/N) turned his eyes away from Arthur's intense glare, breathing deeply
"Hmm... I'll think about it. The problem is if they ever see it, I won't be able to cover that up as easily as the entrance"
"Fair enough. We can discuss it again when I have the coffin of eternal darkness with me, that way you'll be free from its effect" - Arthur took (Y/N)'s hand, leaning to kiss its back - "Now... if you have told me everything you wanted, what about we spend the rest of the evening here?" - Arthur separated his face from (Y/N)'s hand, and continued walking holding his hand - "I could use some company while I wait for the results of this mission"
#4kota#mokushiroku no yon kishi#four knights of the apocalypse#arthur 4kota#arthur x reader#arthurxreader#4kota arthur x reader#4kota arthur#arthur 4kota x reader
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Oh shit, part three
Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!reader
Warning: mentions of sexual themes, violence, swearing.
Summary: With their secret out y/n and Isaiah could only hope.
Word count: 1,1 K
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Isaiah looked like he was about to shit his pants, he too had seen Tommy's reaction and wanted nothing more than to run right out of the back door, you know, to avoid a very painful death. But he couldn't. He was glued to his seat, eyes on y/n, his girlfriend, he couldn't leave her alone with the wrath of her brothers.
Tommy was still taking a long drag from his cigarette, staring y/n straight in her eyes. His other brothers were still shouting, trying to figure out who their little sister was seeing. But he, he had already figured it out. He chuckled darkly at the irony of the situation, "The son of a preacher, how ironic."
This shut up everyone, the pub stood in a deadly silence. Every pair of eyes had strayed away from y/n and were now boring furious holes in Isaiahs head. He looked at them each, eyes filled with fear, looking like a deer in headlights. Before anyone could utter a word the youngest Shelby brother was already on the other side of the pub, holding Isaiah against the wall by his collar.
"You fucked my sister!" He screamed. His voice was full of disbelief and betrayal, shocked at how his bestmate could do something like that.
"Finn it's not like that I promise." Isaiah stammered, trying to explain that he truly loved y/n.
Finn didn't believe him and punched across his cheek. Y/n stood up and wanted to defend her boyfriend but was held back by Tommy who glared at her.
By this time both Arthur and John were standing next to Finn, holding Isaiah against the bar, glaring at him venomously.
The silence was terrifying, and still Isaiah looked calm, determined to prove that he loved their sister, "Please, just listen to me-," He was cut off by a punch to his stomach.
"How long." It was John who demanded it, his voice still low and dangerous. Isaiah was still recovering from the blow to his stomach when Arthur added another. John leaned close to his face and hissed, "How long, Isaiah."
"Six months." Isaiah wheezed out, coughing slightly.
Tears were brimming in y/n's eyes, and she was begging her brothers not to hurt her boyfriend. But the knowledge that one of their most trusted employees had been sneaking around with their sister for six months only angered the three men further.
Ada, who had been standing frozen on the side with Esme the entire time finally spoke up, "Boys let him talk for fucks sake!" Normally the brothers didn't really listen to their sister but the anger and authority in her voice made them follow her demand.
Arthur was smiling sourly at the bloodied up Isaiah, "Well go on, talk."
Isaiah raised his head to look them all in the eye, "It's not like what Finn said-,"
"Like you fucked my sister," Finn cut him off but he was silenced by Ada's glare.
Isaiah looked down, how was he going to explain this. It's not like he could deny it with the prove from the bruise behind her ear. That's when he decided to just spit it out, he didn't care what happened to him. He just wanted them to know how much he loved y/n.
"On her birthday I kissed her for the first time, I had liked her for a while than and was so fuckin' happy to finally know she liked me back. Then she got scared of what you guys would do to me when you found out, rightfully so I guess. So we started dating in secret, after two months I told her that I loved her. And I still do, so fucking much. I tried everything to keep it a secret, not because I was afraid of a beating. But because I was scared you weren't gonna let me see her anymore."
He looked back to all their faces, who were now slightly shocked behind the masks of fury. Then looked over Finn's shoulder at y/n's face and smiled softly. He smiled through the pain and looked at her as if she was the most important thing in his life, which she was.
Y/n Shelby was all that mattered to Isaiah Jesus.
Tommy looked at his face carefully, he tried to find a glimpse of a lie but he couldn't. The man her sister was with told the truth. He looked at Isaiah's expression, it was full of love for his sister. No matter how hard he tried not to he thought about where he had seen that expression before. And he knew that this was how he used to look at his wife. That made up his mind.
"Arthur, John, Finn, let him go." His voice was sturdy and clear. It wasn't a request, it was an order.
Everyone turned their head to look at Tommy bewildered. But he was looking straight at Isaiah, his icy blue eys locked on Isaiah's dark ones. No emotion apparent, like always, Tommy Shelby's face was a mystery.
Without the three brothers holding him up Isaiah had to lean against the bat for support to keep himself from toppling over. He too kept his eyes locked on Tommy, but he looked beyond nervous.
"I'm letting you continue to date our sister, but I swear to everything living on this earth. If you harm a hair on her head, I will tear you apart so badly God won't even recognize you, understood?"
"Understood," Isaiah sighed in relieve when Tommy walked out of the bar, the other three brothers following him. Not without glaring at Isaiah first.
When the door shut y/n sprinted over to her boyfriend and engulfed him in a tight hug, trying her best to avoid his injuries.
After pulling away with a bright smile she placed her hands on the sides of his face an accessed his injuries; he had a small cut on his cheek and a split lip. She knew that there would be bruises on his stomach but didn't want to look.
Isaiah smiled fondly at her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her softly.
The two women who were still in the pub left quickly, leaving the young lovers alone.
Isaiah placed his forehead on y/n's when he pulled away and smiled softly before whispering, "I love you."
Y/n smiled back, "And I love you."
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• Final part, I like this one the least but the ending was cute.
#peaky blinders#peaky blinder imagine#isaiah jesus x reader#isaiah jesus x shelby! reader#isaiahjesus#shelbysister#writing#part three#fanfic
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