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#help its been so long how do i tag this again
paperbackribs · 24 hours
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tags: steddie, pre-canon, season S2-ish, tommy hagan will always have a crush on Steve Harrington
🩵💥🩵
“Someday, you're gonna get bitch-slapped, and I'm not gonna do a thing to stop it,” Steve hears the echo of his words in the Hawkins High boys’ bathroom. Spinning off the tiles, pinging against its corners and stabbing at Tommy who stands gasping at his best friend.
But Steve doesn’t care. This has been a long time coming.
Tommy is a prick and Steve thought there wasn’t anything wrong with going with the flow, ignoring the snide comments, looking away from the rumours that Carol would spread, as long as his friends remained by his side.
But Billy Hargrove had infected Hawkins High. Steve stopped swallowing the cool aid. And Tommy is fuming; red in the face and ready to take it out on any unfortunate soul that crosses his path.
Enter Steve.
Or, really, enter Eddie Munson.
Steve wasn’t sure if Tommy followed Eddie into the empty toilets or coincidentally came across him or whatever could be going on in the mixed up mind of his former best friend. But watching Tommy square off his stocky, muscular body against the other boy, boxed into the corner and wide, brown eyes only visible over Tommy’s shoulder, Steve swears that he’ll no longer look away from Tommy’s indiscretions.
So, he says it again, nodding to the leather clad boy in the corner, “Eddie’s going to take a swing at you and not only will I not defend you, I might even fucking taking a swing too.”
Tommy gapes, “What the fuck, Steve? I know we’ve been having troubles, but you’d take the freak’s side over mine?”
Eddie’s face twists in the background. Steve can see the anger warping his eyes and he doesn’t blame him, almost wishes that Eddie would take a swing and then Steve could just stand back and let it happen.
He sighs: he’s allowed a lot of things to just happen so far and it’s not to his credit.
Weirdly, Steve's resigned gaze meets Eddie’s incredulous look and, just for a moment, Steve feels like he’s met someone who gets it. Someone who sees the ridiculous, short-sighted nature of the petty bullying in the hallways of their high school and knows how stupid and utterly pathetic it is.
Steve swears that the corner of Eddie’s lips kick up at the irony of their shared understanding but is distracted as Tommy strides forward, knocking against his shoulder hard enough to send Steve spinning against the wood of a stall. He steadies himself as Tommy slams the bathroom door shut behind him with a clamorous bang and shakes his head: how could he have had such loyalty for a guy who won’t even stop to talk out their stupid shit together?
Steve thought he’d at least earned Tommy’s patience, a moment of Tommy’s time so they could talk this out and find a way forward again. He stares after his former friend, a hollow, gaping hole in his stomach as he grieves the friendship he thought they’d shared.
Eddie approaches with a gentle hand, laying it on Steve’s shoulder, “Are you all right, man?”
Steve swallows around the thickness in his chest and belatedly realises that his cheeks are wet. He clears his throat and, through a tight smile, says, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”
The deep richness of those brown eyes regard him for a long moment and Steve feels stripped bare. He thought he was the guy rescuing Eddie, but he suddenly feels like the one vulnerable and exposed to the other boy.
Eddie smiles softly, “Yeah, got saved, right? How could I be anything but peachy keen?”
Steve snorts despite himself, amused by Eddie’s tongue-in-cheek tone, “Like a summertime in Georgia.” He can’t help but flash to Tommy’s retreating back and hates that his tone is already bitter, “Except I’m the stupid fucking tree alone in the grove.”
His head twitching slightly to the side, as if he were weighing Steve’s words, Eddie lightly responds, “Well, maybe it’s time to try another field. Wanna hang out sometime?”
Steve blinks, bewildered at the offer. The suggestion given so freely and without conditions seems anathema to his experience of friendship, and especially friendship in the complex halls of high school. He eyes the other boy suspiciously, but Eddie’s eyes remain clear, his body loose and almost curled towards Steve as if he were the north to his compass.
What could it hurt? Steve thinks.
Looking at what he can only describe as kindness in Eddie’s eyes, Steve thinks that a lot of things could hurt. Could burn or scald or stab, but the sweet, clear acceptance in Eddie Munson’s eyes has him thinking of a world where Steve can offer his loyalty and receive it in kind. A place where he can be good and feel like he’s doing good and perhaps a lovely brown-eyed boy would wait and tell him he’d done the right thing.
Eddie sticks out his hand in a gesture of friendship that only bolsters the words he’d already extended to Steve. And nothing moves in the cold room of Hawkins boys’ bathroom, no wind or breeze, but as Steve reaches out to clasp Eddie Munson’s outstretched hand, he feels a seismic shift that he can’t explain.
Steve’s fingers fold around the warmth of Eddie’s palm and Eddie’s full lips stretch into a smile, welcoming and true. A gesture that Steve can’t be sure of, can’t let himself fully trust; yet, nonetheless, Steve finds himself hopelessly following after Eddie’s extension of friendship.
And it'll eventually allow Steve to follow him to the confusing halls of the Hellfire Club.
To the strangely welcome space of Eddie's uncle’s trailer.
And Steve follows.
Because he is helpless but to follow this wide, brown-eyed boy who smirks at him with a knowing smile.
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yuyu1024 · 1 day
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Babe
Pairings: S.coups × y/n
Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob
~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3k
Disclaimers:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)
i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...
meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤
(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)
Me writing... is depending if im okay.
Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.
Thank you.
P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.
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Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.
He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.
"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.
"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug
"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.
He never lost his strength.
"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you
"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head
"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.
"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."
"Okay, doc. Thank you."
And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.
It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.
You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.
"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.
"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand
"Yeah... I got busy healing..."
"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"
"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple
"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder
"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."
"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"
And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.
"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."
"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."
But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.
He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.
"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.
"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.
"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.
"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.
He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.
"You promised... no one should know..."
"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.
"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder
He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.
You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.
So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.
"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"
"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."
He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.
"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"
You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.
"Y/N..."
"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."
"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."
"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."
You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.
He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.
"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.
"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.
"Okay..." you lower your gaze.
You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."
"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."
"Wait. What?" You ask
The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.
"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks
"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."
"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend
"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.
This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.
***
You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.
It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.
"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."
"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say
"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says
You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."
"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.
"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.
"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them
And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.
"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"
Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"
"No..."
"And then... stay...."
"But... my parents..."
"I already told them... they are fine with it."
"When?"
"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."
You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine
"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
You sigh. You are lost for words.
Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.
You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.
"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.
Now you are the one in the bad mood.
"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.
"Okay." You answer not looking at him.
You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...
"Babe." He calls you
You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.
"Can you please come here..." he says
You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.
"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.
"But... your leg..."
"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.
Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but
"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.
And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.
"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."
"Why...?" He pouts
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.
"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."
He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."
"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."
"You sure?"
"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."
"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.
"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say
He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.
"I know what you're doing..." he hums
"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."
His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."
"What will you do?"
"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."
"And...?" You put your forehead to his.
"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."
Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.
"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."
"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.
You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.
"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.
"Should I... let the tip touch me?"
"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.
You already removed your panties off without him noticing.
"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.
"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."
You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.
"Holy... shiiiiit!"
"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.
"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."
When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.
"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."
"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.
"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."
"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."
"You do?"
You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."
"You miss my dick?" He tease
"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.
"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."
Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.
"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."
"You like that?"
"I do."
Then you start to move yourself.
You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.
"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.
"Just let it go..."
"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.
"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."
"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Babe..."
"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."
"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you
It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.
"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.
He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.
"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."
Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."
"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."
"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."
A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."
You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."
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animeniacss · 2 days
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heyyyyy bestie it's wonuwrites xo
Soooo I have a request for you~ like I told you in messages I have a drabble/oneshot idea with a Taylor Swift song + Wonwoo because of course it's Wonwoo <3 So the song is the 1 by Taylor Swift. Specifically this lyric: "But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true It would've been you In my defense, I have none For never leaving well enough alone But it would've been fun If you would've been the one."
I am excited for this <33
Thank you for waiting! Sorry it took longer than I hoped!
Synopsis: After a year and a half of being broken up, you and Wonwoo reunite briefly. You think back to those days and what could have been different.
Tags: Ex!Wonwoo, Angst, Coffee Shop!AU, T.Swift Inspired Lyrics
Length: approx. 1.8k words
Wonwoo x Reader - The One I Couldn't Be
         The café was always empty this early in the morning, and that was how you liked it. It took a few hours for the real foot traffic of the morning commuters to make its way to your work, and that meant a few hours of peace. The only sound was that of the oven whirring behind you, heating up for the string of breakfast sandwiches you were bound to start on.
         You were dusting off the top of the display cases when you heard the sound of the bell ringing at the front entrance. Immediately, your head snapped up and you smiled. “Welcome, can I help you?”
         When a familiar deep voice uttered your name, your eyes settled on a familiar set of dark eyes behind rimmed glasses and a warm smile.
         “Wonwoo.” Despite how much time had passed, you breathed the name with so much familiarity. “Good morning!”
         “Good morning.” He said. “Am I early? Are you open yet?”
         “Barely. But that’s okay. What can I get you?” You turned towards the machines behind you. “The usual?”
         “You still remember?” he chuckled at the realization.
         How could I forget? You thought to yourself. “Of course. I only made it for you fifteen million times.” When Wonwoo laughed again, you felt yourself inhaling an extra deep breath. “So, what brings you in? I feel I haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
         “I don’t have a reason to be around this part of Seoul anymore.” The comment tugged at your heartstrings, pulling them in the opposite direction and tightening your chest, like when a child tugs furiously at the laces of their shoes and squeezes their foot inside a bit too tight.
         “What brings you today, then?” You watched the coffee brew into the pot. “It’s not to see me, is it?” Finally working up the courage to turn back to Wonwoo, you caught a small smile on his lips. His eyes cast down to the display case. “Do you want something to eat? I can pop a sandwich in the oven to warm up.”
         Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m okay, thanks.” You approached the register and punched in the order. “How has everything been?”
         “Good. You?”
         “Fine. Still here.” You motioned to the muted brown walls decorated in florals that boxed you in. Wonwoo only hummed in response, and the both of you fell into awkward silence.
         How else could it be with Jeon Wonwoo? Nothing other than awkward felt like it made sense anymore. It was expected really, when you’ve been broken up for almost a year and a half. It was a whirlwind, really, not even long enough for you to process that going forward any interactions with the one person you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with would feel awkward.
         Maybe that was why it felt impossible to breathe; as if you were sitting at the bottom of the ocean for the entirety of that year and a half.
         As you turned to the coffee machine and began assembling his drink. “Do you remember-.” You paused for a second, wondering if going down memory lane would add to the awkwardness. “When you and I would go to the mall and before we went shopping, we would toss a penny into the fountain outside?”
         Wonwoo’s eyes shot up in your direction and he smiled. “Yeah. Of course. To make sure we could find what we were looking for that day.”
         “Those were fun times.” You said, just loud enough for him to hear. Even if he gave a curt, one-word reply or a verbal nod, you would feel content. You would feel content knowing that those memories were just as dear to him as they had been to you – still were to you.
         “Do you still do it?” You caught a slight tease in his voice though it was masked with a bit of shyness. It seemed even he was treading a tightrope of nostalgia in this moment, neither of you wanting to say too much and risk falling into the depths below.
         “Do you?” Wonwoo only chuckled as you passed him his drink. He offered a small thank you. You smiled. “Are you taking this to go?”
         Hesitation as Wonwoo scanned the area. “I think I can sit for a minute.” You nodded, watching as he took the first seat in the café; the one closest to you. He even faced you, and it felt like a year and a half ago for a second. Wonwoo sipped his coffee and smiled while you both talked until the café got busy and he was ultimately left for the morning to head to his own job. That is, until you two would see each other in the evenings and everything felt right again.
         That part didn’t happen anymore.
         “How’s the family?” You asked.
         “They’re good. My parents are still my parents.”
         “Workaholics?” You hummed, and Wonwoo’s laugh confirmed enough. “What about Bohyuk? Still in the whole fashion model business?”
         “Took a break to finish his degree, but he said he wants to get back into it.”
         Even in only a year and a half, a lot had changed in Wonwoo’s life. You couldn’t help but wonder how things would be different now if you had left well enough alone, bit down the things that felt so major at the time, but make you cringe in regret now. Did those things really matter? Would they have mattered to you now? The distance between the both of you is so big you’d need a boat to cross it and see him again just to fight about how long the trip took in the first place.
         You could have left well enough alone because now all of those moments felt pointless, but not the same kind of pointless as watching two copper pennies drop to the bottom of the fountain’s water. A different, emptier kind of pointless that makes you regret.
         Wonwoo decided to break up. While sitting on his bed, a movie idly playing in the background, he had mentioned it.
         “We should take some time apart. I think it’s good for both of us.”
         That time was a year and a half, a changed social media relationship post, and an ugly cry into the tub of ice cream Jeonghan bought you ago.
         Pulling yourself back to the present with talk of life updates, dawning the mask of a sociable customer service worker, you choked out a: “What about you?”
         “Me?”
         “Yes, you.” You snorted. “Still at the same job? Still playing the same games? What’s new?”
         Wonwoo was silent for a beat too long so you finally turned back to face him despite what your facial features might convey about your feelings. Wonwoo had the coffee cup to his lips, eyes cast at one of the decorative paintings hung up on the wall beside him. It had been changed twice since he was here last, and he seemed to notice.
         “Different painting? I liked the old one.”
         “Oh, you’re changing the subject? That must mean you have something juicy to hide?” Wonwoo didn’t chuckle or laugh under his breath this time. That made your teasing smile fall. “Sorry, maybe it’s not my business. I shouldn’t push.”
         “Ah, no.” Wonwoo shook his head. “I was just debating on if I wanted to tell you when I came in here for coffee.”  
         “Tell me what?” You asked.
         Wonwoo seemed a bit unsure. “I feel like it’s inappropriate. After all this time.”
         “Is it some kinky thing?” Wonwoo finally laughed again, shaking his head. A bit of blush formed on his cheeks.
         “You’re terrible. No.” You were silent despite a small smile on your face, watching as Wonwoo shifted in his seat. “I met someone.”
         “Ah.” You didn’t intend for the sound to escape your lips, but when it did your chest deflated. “That’s lovely. Is she nice?” Of course, she is. You thought. Wonwoo only attracts nice people….
         “She is.” He said. You could see the fondness in his eyes. “We met at this party Mingyu took me to about six months ago. We’re meeting up today about 15 minutes down the road.”
         “The aquarium?” Wonwoo nodded. “Aw, that’s really nice.” Wonwoo’s eyes relaxed a bit, as did the rest of his body. “I’m happy for you.”
         “Thanks.” He seemed to have finished his coffee since he didn’t lift it up for more sips. “What about you?”
         “Pah.” You scoffed. “Nothing but men looking for hook-ups, or the guys who won’t leave you alone when you’ve politely turned them down.”
         “Ah, sorry to hear that.”
         You shrugged passively because it didn’t bother you. “I’ve taken a break from all that. This-.” You motioned to the four walls and the display case in front of you. “-Causes me more than enough stress.” A beat of silence, and you added. “I’m happy for you, though.”
         “Thank you.” He got up from his seat and walked back over to the display case. For a second his eyes dropped to it, scanning the contents. “I think I might take something to eat for the trip.”
         “Okay.” Hands reached into the case and pulled out two muffins, chocolate chip and blueberry. “Here.”
         “Ah. Two?” He blinked. “I’m Mingyu, you know. I don’t eat that much at once.”
         “It’s for your girlfriend, Wonwoo.” This had been only the second time you said his name this morning, yet it felt so natural escaping your lips yet again. “That’d be kind of rude of you to not show up with anything for her.”
         “Ah, you’re right.” Wonwoo smiled. When he reached into his pocket, you stuck your hand out. He looked confused as his eyes met yours again.
         “Don’t worry. On me.” You said.
“What? I couldn’t.”
“Too bad.” You said. “I insist. Thanks for coming to visit.”
Reluctantly Wonwoo put his wallet back in his pocket and nodded with a grateful thank you. In a few minutes, Wonwoo would be out of your café once again, this time heading to see someone else rather than to kill time before being in your arms once again.
The thought hurt, but it hurt less seeing Wonwoo smile the way he did. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Mm. You too.” Wonwoo fixed his glasses, waving his hand as he headed out of the café. You watched his back get smaller and smaller, turning as he passed by the window and down the street. Just like that, you were left alone in the café like you had been ten minutes earlier. Only now, you heart was heavier.
As the day went on, serving customers and cleaning tables, your mind weighed heavy on the topic of: what would be different now if I had been the one? Could I have done anything differently to keep Wonwoo in my grasp?
Were we always destined to grow apart this way?
As evening pulled over the city you locked up the café and stepped onto the street, bag slung over your shoulder and cap pulled over your sleepy eyes.
With the moonlight as your only companion, you made your way home, your mind finally quieting down with questions a year and a half too old to be answered. Well, one question you had today was answered.
He didn’t come back to town just to see you. 
If you want to request something, post in my inbox and check my requests post!
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mondaymelon · 2 months
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₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader
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「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」
— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.
— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!
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the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.
in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.
red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,
( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),
and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.
"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.
"nnno. m'not going with you."
"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"
"i already told you... i have a husband..."
your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."
archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?
"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.
definitely not your husband.
idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.
then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.
"night, this husband of yours loves you."
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strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?
that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.
and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.
you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"
childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."
you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."
the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.
there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.
childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."
"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"
"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.
panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"
"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."
he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.
"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.
as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.
"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."
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ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.
it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.
like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.
it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?
"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.
ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.
"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.
"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"
your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"
"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."
"i don wanna."
"..."
"just... one drop?"
"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."
"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"
ah. "...what's his name?"
"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."
"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.
"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."
just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.
"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."
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(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds
tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):
@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima
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swiftcast-selene · 1 month
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30: Dawn
he'd stayed up all night for this. seeing the sun - the proper sun - crest the horizon again... it had all been worth it.
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arsenicflame · 7 months
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i really liked my tags on this post so i wanted to touch them up and post them as a stand alone! i ended up adding quite a bit to this ''':)
What artistic skill does Izzy possess?
I think he has a lot of 'practical' artsy skills. he’s decent at sewing (mending your own clothes isn't just useful, it's almost a requirement at sea with limited possessions and resources) he's probably decent at braiding hair from having to splice rope- simply anything with roots in being useful I think he has done enough to be decent at by this point in his life.
Singing comes into this as well, holding a rhythm is important for certain sailing tasks, and while I think he can sing in ways that don't translate to shanties, I don't think he has utilised this in a long long time (so excited that we are apparently getting an Izzy singing scene in s2!!!! I need him to know he can have fun)
Another thing is I think he was a really good tattoo artist! I don't actually see him as having the creativity to come up with interesting and unique designs but I do think he is excellent at the act itself, and at copying requested designs. you need a swallow? an anchor? a ship? any common sailors tattoo? he can absolutely do it and it will probably be the best tattoo you have. it was always a mark of honour if you could convince him to do yours on the Queen Anne- he was very busy and didn't often do them, and definitely wouldn't do them if he didn't respect you. He's done a lot of Ed's 'quality' tattoos (though I think Ed also does a lot on himself), he's done tattoos for Fang, and Ivan, and he will do them for the rest of the kraken crew in the future. (he will even do one for Lucius one day, one of his own pieces of art as long as its not an Ed face or a dick. They understand each other now)
anything else? I don't know, I see him very much as, he won't let himself do things if they aren't practical. his canon whittling is as close as he gets and that's more of a 'thing to do with your hands while watching the deck' kind of thing. have knife will whittle
I think ultimately, Izzy doesn't let himself do things for himself. if you love something, if you have a soft spot, it can be targeted, taken away.
I do think he maybe dances though. He always plays it off as something Ed forces him to do when they're drunk/on shore but... he loves it- the motion; the reliance on another partner and the intimate understanding of exactly what they're gonna do next? I think he would love that actually.
I think dancing might be the one thing he always does for fun. He never lets himself have it, but if Ed demands a partner? Yes, of course, anything for his Captain.
(Ed always demands a partner. he likes dancing well enough but he likes seeing Izzy do it more- he knows Izzy will never do it on his own, he understands why, but Ed is Blackbeard. Nobody fucks with Blackbeard- and if he wants to dance? if he wants his first mate to dance? they're fucking dancing.)
but that's not the truth of the situation, really.
It always takes him a second to let his guard down, but he relaxes into it. He lets himself loose in a way Ed only sees when he's deep into the rhythm of a swordfight. And perhaps it's the same, to him- finding the flow of the battle, of the music. Feeling his partner, understanding them and being understood in return? It's all the same- but dancing is safe. Dancing is fun. In a swordfight there are stakes- and he loves the stakes, he loves that this thing that means everything to him matters, but sometimes, just sometimes, it really is nice to move like that in a way that doesn't matter.
And when they really get going- all twirls and jumps and frankly being a little ridiculous, Izzy laughs. A deep belly laugh, a kind of joy you didn't think was possible from him. But here he is, letting go at last. He laughs and he smiles and he feels such joy, the rest of the world melts away, and it is just him and his partner, dancing.
(later- much, much later, a man will play a battle song over their raids, a jaunty little tune that throws off everyone they fight against, and Izzy gets to dance, and fight, and feel free, unburdened by the weight that he's carried with him his whole life. They'll dance after too, and he will have finally found a place where he completely belongs)
(if you liked this, can I recommend Talking Bodies by ItsClydeBitches, i feel like that fic fits the themes of dancing incredibly well)
#I didnt want to clog up ops post but Izzy dancing is everything to me actually#I hadnt reread that fic in months but I did just now to make sure it was the one I was thinking of#and yeah I can definitely see its influence in this post#once again the autistic Izzy headcanons thread themselves through this post I cant help it its canon to me#I specifically think that the whittling could be a stim thing for him. hes had too many comments made about his hand movements#when he was younger and has learnt that 'doing something' is seen as far more acceptable. its repetitive and soothing and safe#also heres a fun little gift for my bellhands friends. I think Sam taught him how to dance. like proper dances.#and it was at the same time as he was learning to swordfight which is partly why theyre so similar for him#Ed and Jack came across them dancing in port; not long after they started talking to Izzy properly (hed known Sam a while by this point)#and like. Jack thinks its kinda funny but Ed? oh hes jealous. for the first time he Wants#Izzy and Sam are so close; and they have been for a while but this is Different. its one thing knowing that its Izzy&Sam and Ed&Jack#and its another thing to see them like this. its intimate and personal and for the first time Ed regrets not seeing izzy first#(this is heavily influenced by my personal pirate school headcanons jfgjfhnv)#makes a post to deal with out of hand tags; tags on that post get out of hand#nyxtalks#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd s2 spoilers#izzy hands#israel hands#edizzy#blackhands#frenchie ofmd#references to him; anyway. i felt it fit to keep him vaguely defined but it is obviously him. my favourite lil guy#this should probably have been broken up into a couple of posts but NO take this behemoth#if youre curious the post is like 844 words long and with the tags its 1220 ish. i am so sorry#references to vague time periods pre canon and post canon idk put them whenever you want. when edizzy was happy. when they will be again#I cut the bit about weaving because it was just a silly little thing and didnt slot into this but know Izzy with a loom is everything to me#im also sorry the tone is all over the place this is half 'i thinks' and half like. semi narrative things? idk idk i have no sense of order#this is as good as it gets for me
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the school arc to me is so good because it drags ciel out of his position as a powerful figure and literally places him in the shoes of the person he could have been. the circus arc ALSO drags him out of his position as big bad queens watch dog/head of the phantomhive estate but the school arc feels like a mockery of a future that never was. this is what he could have been had his parents not died. and even then its NOT because he will never be that kid.
he never was.
#ramblings#incoherent beyond belief its 4 am#and im trying to avoid manga spoilers#might add a reblog with more coherent thoughts when i wake up but im off my meds so i cant promise anything#actually correction im being vague w the manga spoilers#manga readers know whats up#idk if there are any anime only ppl who havent been spoiled on The Plottwist Ever yet#but i figured there will be new fans and though im not tagging this it might still get seen so#cant WAIT to see our boy absolutely miserable in animation form should they recreate that arc LMAOOO#which ofc is after the germany arc so thats still a long time away#but STILL. itd be fun i need to see this young teenager lose his mind in color with sound#him relying on sebastian to do all his fag duties (sorry. dredge) so he can work his way up the social ladder#trying to gain power while simultaneously proving that he cant do anything but rely on others#hes always needed help in basically every way and he hasnt CHANGED he just got a demon to do it for him#he learns to lie and charm and cheat and all the while hes a fucking CHILD WHO STILL STRUGGLES WITH NORMAL THINGS#ciel is my little baby and i love him deeply no matter how much of a little bitch he can be#his helplessness isnt just 'oh he was raised in british high society' its also that he never got the chance to learn anything#which to elaborate on that id also have to go into manga territory. iykyk#like absolutely at this point he just refuses to learn how to do things he has a pet demon to do it for him#but.#hi the phantomhives backstory is killing me again its so late#both atlantic and the school arc are just setup for the Big Arc but theyre very good in their own right i SWEAR#also when i rewatched the circus arc a while back and i realised how some scenes were shot#the heavy foreshadowing that i didnt realise. yk. 7 years ago or however long its been since i first watched it#CRAZY#if you are new. to kuroshitsuji. and you havent read the manga. dear god. read the manga#ALSO GRELLE IN THAT ARC IS SO BEAUTIFUL & OTHELLO IS TRANSMASCULINE. OKAY GOODBYE
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widevibratobitch · 2 months
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aaaaaaand it's starting. mom's bestie just texted me asking to come over this weekend cause it's Bad and it's probably the last chance to talk and maybe say goodbye to my mom's husband and i need to take care of her. god. i wont get through this weekend unless im high or drunk istg.
#time to slightly overdose my depression meds again ig lol#anyway. it is a little better with me these last two weeks. turns out the meds do work when you actually take em regularly#but first my best friend's break up that she's blowing up to unimaginable size#acting as if she just got divorced with the love of her life after 20 years#and not ended a few months long relationship with a guy who's been the source of most of her troubles since the moment they started dating#(ofc she's valid and id never tell her that because like. i get it. some people feel stuff more deeply. but its hard to be supportive#when you genuinely feel like this is the best possible outcome for her and that the relationship was only dragging her down all this time)#and now this. and this is gonna be infinitely worse. and then it's gonna get a million times worse when he actually does die.#and i feel like the worst most selfish person ever which like. probably am. but i did tell my cousin who actually knows my mom really well#and she said she understands and that my fears ARE valid because SHE'S terrified of how she's gonna handle my mom#and she wouldn't wanna be me in that situation cause it's gonna be so much worse for me lmao#like i feel like people who know my mother casually really dont understand just how unhinged emotionally she is#anyway. i feel so overwhelmed. i cant handle this jesus.#but im also emotionally unavailable and refuse to actually confide in another person because i dont want to be a bother <3333#god i love tumblr. i can literally type anything in those tags lol it's the perfect form of venting since you can just scroll by#but i will still have let it out of myself anyway uwu i literally dont need that therapy fr#anyway. i feel so unbelievably fucking lonely and on one hand it's my own fault for withdrawing and refusing to ask for help.#but on the other hand. i AM alone. like there's no one who can help me in this particular situation.#i have no siblings. obviously my dad isnt gonna help. it all falls down to me. good god. i wanna throw up.
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Sorry to keep throwing Miscellaneous Asks your way, but I finally had a moment to get my thoughts in order on one of the points on your Venn diagram I wanted to talk about! I always kind of debate whether or not to send other, semi-unrelated long asks like this when we've already got a chain going, but oh well. I'll try and address anything brought up in response here in the main one and hopefully it doesn't get confusing lol.
So I was thinking about the extent of Jo and Arakawa's relationship. It is completely true there's not much you can say that's concrete, especially since most of what we see is from Jo's perspective. Although his perspective is crucial to forming an understanding of their relationship, it's not sufficient. This is particularly the case because, coming back to giri-ninjo for a moment, Jo is largely bound by giri; it's clear his loyalty runs deep, but it's not a choice for him.
Arakawa, on the other hand, can choose who he places his trust in, especially early on. And I think it's incredibly important that, despite having men who've already been with him from day 1, men who've already been helping him with his son, Arakawa chooses to "place every confidence" in Jo (per an old Famitsu profile, one of the first official ones) and chooses to make Jo his captain.
Similarly, he kind of chooses Jo "over" Ichi in sending Ichi to prison "instead of" Jo. Perhaps the family really would collapse without Jo's talents, but… does it have to collapse entirely? Didn't Arakawa make it pretty far on his own? I guess it's neither here nor there, but I've always wondered if things would've really played out as feared if Jo went to prison instead. Not to understate Jo's role in the family, of course.
Anyway, I think that trust shows not only in overt gestures such as entrusting Masato and the family's finances to Jo, but also in more subtle behind-the-scenes ways, such as what we were talking about before with regard to New Year's 2001. There's also the fact that leaking information to Aoki was Jo's idea; for that to be the case, Arakawa would have to discuss Aoki's threats at length with Jo. (Unrelated, but come to think of it, "complying with him [to] make him see value in keeping us around" is very often the strategy of victims of abuse and neglect…)
And this one's an underrated detail many people miss, but after Arakawa shot Ichi, while he was able to come up to Ichi to tell him he's counting on him and sneak in the fake bill, if the goal was to not arouse suspicion, I don't think he would exactly have been able to excuse himself from the dinner to drive Ichi to Yokohama. Time was of the essence in terms of Ichi's survival, so that leaves Jo, who was conveniently already at the scene and who was certainly in on the "secret rule" that constitutes part of the Arakawa Family's agreement with the homeless camp. Overall, there is a pattern of Arakawa approaching Jo before anyone else, isn't there?
Sort of branching off of that, I would personally feel comfortable saying that Jo knows Arakawa better than anyone else. He seems to know details about Akane and New Year's 1976 no one else does, details Arakawa would have had to volunteer himself, and that plus his own experiences are what allow him alone to have the most complete picture of that night.
I also get the impression Jo understands Arakawa better as a person than anyone else--certainly better than Aoki, but perhaps even better than Ichi in some cases. There are multiple instances where he defends Arakawa and challenges their perceptions of him--that he's "betrayed" the Tojo Clan, that he's betrayed Aoki, that he's the type to scheme and make power-plays behind Aoki's back. He hasn't. And, despite how little Jo's "allowed" to say, he turns out to be right every time. Also worth noting Arakawa does something similar in asking Ichi to try and understand Jo's frustrations, though he's more or less enabling Jo's abuse in doing so.
Lastly, The Smallest Detail that drives me kind of insane. Them arriving at the office in the back seat of the same car in one of Ichi's flashbacks. I wouldn't think too much of it if it were any other time of day, but the first-thing-in-the-morning quality and the fact Jo isn't driving (thus it's not as an act of service but as an equal) is like… Okay. You're carpooling to work. And if you're not carpooling, you're honest-to-god living together. What the hell.
So a lot of it is this web of inferences--it has to be, at least currently--but I really do think there's a lot to chew on. More than meets the eye, anyway. I've also been stewing in all of this for years, especially since drafting Jo's relationships section, so I might just have inhaled the fumes for too long lol
Thank you for coming to me about the nature of their relationship! Although I did put it down as being more-or-less 'uncertain' on my chart, I do agree that their relationship isn't as cut-and-dry as other relationships might be (it's going back to appreciating the complexities of RGG relationships, especially in the case of the Arakawa's where for every party involved it really IS complicated)
I wanted to exclude making any definitive statements on things that couldn't be verified without making a detour on the original post (I know I already mentioned frequently that Arakawa is able to joke about Jo being 'softer' on Masato, but I do think about their relationship often and the implied depth of Jo's loyalty if- as you said- he was able to climb through the ranks of the Arakawa family much quicker than preexisting members), but there are clear points in the game that due allude to a great trust between the two (and I also note that carpooling detail during Ichi's flashback- or at the very least I know I'd find myself noticing Jo sitting in the back opposed to the front/driving). It's definitely not hard to assert that Jo knows Arakawa well either, it's hard not to come to that conclusion when we have evidence from the game to infer that.
#long post#fave#i should prob come up with an actual tag for these asks so i can easily find them and not sift through my other fave'd posts#ill do it in the morning im right about to go to bed but i just saw this pop up on my notifications#and well. we know me i've been presented an itch i have to scratch LMAO#snap chats#i feel a bit silly now- i know that their relationship isn't exactly. 'uncertain' but i didnt want to put that so i didn't appear#hmm.. i dont know the word for it.#i guess because it's not AS blatant as daigo and mine's relationship was#i didnt want to make it appear as though i was saying theres more when there isnt?? tho there definitely is..#its a little evident i Am interested in the depths of their relationship so i promise ive thought about it#maybe i just wasnt sure how to exactly word it.. though in review the way i worded it on my chart#wasn't HORRIBLE. to most standards anyway i think however it definitely undermines the bond they have and for that#'ashamed' is hyperbolic i feel like someone would say so we'll go with 'embarrassed' to meet in the middle#but thats the benefit of peer review isnt it- just to help catch your mistakes or to help reaffirm ideas so im grateful!#but x2 again in review im a silly coward for doubting my gut on that#tho i sort of do want to torch that post- i wont tho. it's not supposed to be SUPER deep just very quick notes#so i guess i'll save the Deep Dive on jo and masumi's relationship for a future post. is what ill tell myself to keep myself sane#thank you for compiling- i suppose i'll call- their moments together !#it's a great way to keep track of every important note on their relationship that i hope people will take note of if they havent
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sea-buns · 7 months
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I've reached a point where I am two eps behind on Burrow's End and it's starting to feel like the point of no return. If I'm not faced with deadline pressure to watch something, I am well and truly fucked. All because I forgot what week the first ep was airing :( and I'd been so hyped :((
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youremyonlyhope · 2 years
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PHANTOM OF THE OPERA IS FINALLY CLOSING ON BROADWAY.
THANK YOU THEATRE GODS.
#not tagging this but i know if you search phantom it will show up so this is more just a testament to search tags not general#i for one try to ignore the fact that tumblr changed its search function to have the option to search tags and general posts.#but i am making sure to NOT purposefully put this in the phantom tag since i'm not that mean when it comes to phantom#but i can't help that tumblr's search function is stupid so if this shows up because it has the words phantom then i'm sorry#once again for the record i DID NOT put hate in the tag. if you think you're in the phantom tag and you see this post then know that#you are not in the phantom tag you are in the phantom search bar and you need to relearn how to use tumblr's updated stupidity#ANYWAY. GUYS. I'VE BEEN SCREAMING FOR YEARS THAT PHANTOM NEEDED TO HAVE CLOSED ALREADY AND IT IS FINALLY CLOSING#finally. FINALLY. the pandemic has claimed a show that truly deserved to close.#this show should have closed in 2015 when they put that literal child molester onstage as the phantom#who was only spared being a registered sex offender because the judge didn't want to 'ruin his career'#hey dude. don't assault at 15 year old if you don't want to ruin your own career. god. 7+ years of anger bubbling up right.#this show should have closed so long ago. if not in 2015 then LONG before then but 2015 should have been the moment.#that STUPID casting decision should have been the reason it closed i am so mad it took this long.#the show should have closed after Norm played the Phantom because it didn't do anything good again until Emilie#now if Emilie Kouatchou gets to be the last Broadway Christine then i will die HAPPILY. i will just. i can die now. i will be happy.#because not only would phantom be FINALLY closed but then that means Playbill Vault will always show Emilie in closing cast#i hope she stays through the end of the run though i will not be seeing the show before it closes unless it's for free#PHANTOM'S CLOSING ON BROADWAY YOU GUYS!!! THIS IS A JOYOUS DAY!#my anon is off so don't even try to come at me#also shoutout to Thelma Pollard who is amazing i hope she gets a good retirement package from ALW like she DESERVES#i feel bad for cast and crew who are losing jobs but the show itself? nah. glad it's gone.
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bee-turtle-kind · 2 years
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just got mad for a second seeing a rise of the TMNT gif and realizing I don't have it memorized..... ,
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crowtechs · 7 months
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sometimes i have this weird desire to make like sibling ocs to canon but then im like what am i doing and then i dont or smth :(
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aliceramblez · 3 months
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
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Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
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Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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serawritesthings · 4 months
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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.
OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND
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Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut Word Count | 10k A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡
While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.
Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in. 
The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man. 
You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth. 
“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body. 
“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.
“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger. 
Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.
“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject. 
“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.
As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.
“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.
“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.
You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.
“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.
You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.” 
Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.
“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll. 
Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door. 
He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur. 
You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose. 
“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look. 
“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure. 
Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach. 
“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn. 
He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn’t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.
He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.
“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.
“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.
“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”
As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West. 
Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.
Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.
Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.
What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.
“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.
“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.
“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”
“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”
He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.
“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours. 
“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing. 
“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff. 
“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.
Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height. 
“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much. 
It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.
You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.
“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.
“Cold?” 
“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.
“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work. 
Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.
“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.
“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.
“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”
“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”
He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words. 
“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled. 
It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”
“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.
Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.
It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.
“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.” 
“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.
“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.
“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”
“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving. 
Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.
You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.
His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.
“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.
“Yes, kind.”
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.
“Sure.”
It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway. 
It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.
Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.
Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite. 
If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.
And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby. 
Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.
He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.
It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.
Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.
“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.
“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.
Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.
Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people. 
Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.
“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.
You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears. 
As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.
How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.
How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable. 
“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.
“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes. 
You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls. 
“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.
“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”
“No, I-” 
“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”
His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did. 
“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”
You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.
“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.
“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture. 
You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.
Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes. 
He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being. 
So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.
“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.
He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.
“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle. 
“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”
A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”
As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.
“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him. 
Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips. 
Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.
“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something. 
Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.
And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.
“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.
Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.
“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.
And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.
It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground. 
“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm. 
“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.
It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.
You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch. 
It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.
“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.” 
You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.
You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking. 
“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.
“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.
You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck. 
Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.
Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own. 
He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.
And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him. 
But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh. 
His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.
It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.
The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers. 
“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night. 
Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.
“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval. 
You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.
He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.
A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions. 
For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.
And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.
“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.
“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.
Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.
“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.” 
He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him. 
While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck. 
You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.
Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else. 
You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you. 
God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.
“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.
“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control. 
Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.
He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.
Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements. 
Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.
“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.
He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.
Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before. 
Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.
Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.
“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.
“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”
“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.
They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.
“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.
“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.
“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.
“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.
“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face. 
The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.
You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.
Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly. 
Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you. 
“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.
The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.
As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.
“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.
“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come. 
“Are you jealous of Charles?” 
If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.
If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled. 
“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs. 
“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.” 
Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him. 
“Only me, right?”
“Only you, stupid.”
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bratphilia · 6 months
Text
overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
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after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
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