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planetesastraea · 3 years

Text

On the tip of his tongue

Read Part 1: On the Tip of his Fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU - Explicit - 10 179 words - Warnings: none

Character study, developing relationship, banter, feelings, Geralt vs words, bisexual!Geralt, bottom!Geralt, top!Jaskier, first time, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex. Also contains pizza (mentioned)

Betaed by the wonderful @oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co

Read on AO3

That morning Jaskier got woken up by a soft but firm hand on his shoulder and a husky voice saying his name.

“Hmmf?” was his very articulate reply, definitely worthy of the Creative Writing and Composition in Medieval Times professor he was. “Three words or less,” he would always say to motivate his students to answer questions during class and to start a conversation. Damn, they would have been proud.

“I gotta go,” the deep voice whispered and the previous evening suddenly came back to Jaskier. Geralt. Wow. Geralt . He sat up and blinked a few times before realising his eyes were open but the sun wasn’t up yet. Geralt was but a silhouette in the dark, his smell a mix of long-forgotten aftershave and well remembered sex.

“Mmokay,” Jaskier mumbled, rubbing one eye with his palm. “Thanks for telling me,” he said sleepily. There was a pause and he realised the sentence didn’t land well.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to sneak out,” Geralt replied tightly.

“Yeano, yeah- I meant it. Sorry. Me,” Jaskier said, pointing towards his own face in the dark, and thus proving the point to no one but himself, “not a morning person.”

Geralt snorted softly. Jaskier was overcome with a powerful wave of fondness and a guttural need to reach out and kiss him. Gods bless adorable bi himbos at law.

“I should get going,” Geralt said and Jaskier thought he heard some hesitation in his voice. The mattress dipped slightly as Geralt moved to stand up, and Jaskier reached out blindly. His hand found the inside of Geralt’s elbow and then slid down softly to the man’s wrist, finding his palm.

“Wait,” Jaskier said and Geralt waited. Then it dawned on him that he was supposed to say something . “Do you want to… see me again?” he offered, truly bringing his A-game as the (supposedly) most romantic man in the continent. (He was not boasting. It had simply been brought to his attention by many of his exes, and who was he to question the opinion of the people?) He tried not to sound too hopeful but it was too early in the morning and his acting skills needed a warm-up. After all, one couldn’t just naturally wake up that good.

The silence stretched in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially since Geralt was practically invisible in front of him. Geralt’s fingers brushed his and something in his chest relaxed, but only for a moment.

“I can’t,” Geralt started, making Jaskier’s heart drop, “make promises.”

And okay that wasn’t the worst he could have said but also - uh what ? “Okay? Well I- I’m not asking you to?”

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, I- I had a really nice time with you, you know? And I’d really like to have more… nice times with you. And not just sex, I mean, yes, sex was fantastic, it was , but also, well- what I mean is, I don’t expect you to like, abandon your life or whatever, I just-” he was running out of breath. “Gosh I’m talking too much again, fuck, please, say something? I’m getting zero feedback here and you have to know I’m gonna keep talking until you cut me off-”

“Sorry,” Geralt sighed, his fingers threading between Jaskier’s. “It’s just- This is… I haven’t been with someone in a while and,” he said with hesitation and left the sentence unfinished.

And never with a man , Jaskier thought, pretty sure of what was coming next. “Right,” he said, feeling his throat tighten. Not like he wasn’t used to falling for people who just didn’t have the same life plan- or day plan , even.

“But I think I would,” Geralt said, “like to see you again, I mean.”

“Wait, what?“ Jaskier’s brain derailed.

“I’d like to see you again?” Geralt repeated and it sounded even better the second time.

“Oh.”

"I… had a nice time, too.”

“Oh. Good,” Jaskier whispered, relief washing over him and unlocking the door to yearning. He moved forward, closer to Geralt, his hand sliding up to his shoulder, finding his cheek and feeling the beginning of a stubble under his fingers. “Good,” Jaskier murmured again. Feeling Geralt lean into him was the best reward. He moved his head closer and his nose rubbed softly against Geralt’s, the intimacy sweeter than some of the sex he’d had in the past.

Geralt inclined his head slightly and pressed a chaste, tender kiss against Jaskier’s lips.

Once they parted, phone numbers were exchanged and the soft wish of getting in touch soon was expressed - or, rather, as Jaskier put it as he walked Geralt to the door, “in touch and, well, in touch .” A freaking poet.

The morning after they “had a milkshake” - as Jaskier nicknamed their first close encounter - Geralt had gone home right before sunrise to find Eskel wide awake, sitting on the living room couch, a book on his lap. Eskel had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “Coffee?” was all he had said and Geralt had been oh so grateful.

In the days that followed, he learned a bit more about Jaskier. He taught both poetry and musicology at university, gave private lessons, and performed with his band from time to time. Spring meant preparing finals, helping students to rehearse for auditions, and getting ready for the upcoming festivals The Bard would participate in. Between his schedule and Geralt’s, over a month had gone before they saw each other in the flesh again. But texting? Texting was definitely a Jaskier thing.

A couple of hours after Geralt had left, Jaskier had sent him a text saying “my bed misses you” . Geralt had promptly walked from one meeting to another, only realising at 6.30 pm during a phone call from Assengard, as he caught sight of the restaurant from across the street, that he had left Jaskier hanging. He tried to think of something clever on his way to pick Ciri up from her fencing class. To his surprise, his idea had worked very well on Jaskier.

Of course, as with most things concerning Jaskier, Geralt quickly discovered, it was prone to get out of hand. The man had decided that “the milkshake” would become “a thing”. The fact that Geralt’s favourite order at Denise’s included a vanilla milkshake with cream on top was apparently hilarious for reasons Geralt could not understand.

Since then, Geralt would receive texts from Jaskier every few days, ranging from “thinking of u” to “which one of these says ‘I am a 100%-responsible adult person who will turn your child into a virtuoso if you allow me to teach them?’” with a picture of two button-down shirts attached.

Geralt had left him on read , the bastard.

After the six most frustrating weeks of his life - yes, more frustrating than the whole summer he spent sharing a flat with a Spanish model who had very loud, very heterosexual sex on the other side of their paper-thin, shared bedroom wall - Jaskier finally got his hands back on his favourite lawyer’s ass.

They had agreed Geralt would meet him at his place that Friday after work. And so, Jaskier spent the afternoon trying to convince himself he could mark students’ essays, and was absolutely not in the hellish head-space where nervousness meets horniness. (He made it through five so he counted it as a win.)

He had changed outfits three times in two hours, and had promised Essi he absolutely was not falling for some seemingly perfect person who would then turn out to have a secret wife, three children and a dog (“Well since you’re asking, he has a very public ex-wife, one daughter, and a horse.” “A horse?” “Yup.” “What the hell?” “I have no fucking clue.”)

Jaskier was busy adjusting a sofa pillow to make it appear tidy-but-casual when the bell rang, making him jump out of his skin.

When he opened the door, Geralt looked like he was two seconds away from running back down the stairs and disappearing forever in some mysterious vineyard near Toussaint. Geralt, being the absolute asshole that he was, also looked like a fucking god amongst humans so Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him once again. He had almost forgotten how stunning the man was.

“Hi,” Geralt said.

Jaskier shook himself out of his dreamy smitten state and felt a tingle in his cheeks as he blushed. “Hey, come on in,” he said, waving the man inside.

Geralt had his hair tied in a casual bun and was wearing a black winter coat way above Jaskier’s pay grade. Gods, what a sight. Jaskier was fucked .

“Are you-”

“So how’s-”

They both started and stopped at the same time, which made Jaskier laugh and Geralt shake his head as he looked away, a side of his mouth rising into a smile. Boy, Jaskier thought, if Geralt was half as fond of him as he was of Geralt, they’d be married in three years, move to a farm in five, and adopt every stray dog in the area a year after that at the latest.

“Can I take your coat?” Jaskier offered.

As Geralt nodded, Jaskier got his hands on the lapels of Geralt’s coat, fingers absent-mindedly pressing against Geralt’s chest, feeling the soft wool, and the strong pecs underneath all the layers. A moment passed and he realised Geralt hadn’t moved an inch. He stopped staring at his own hand and, as he looked up, realised Geralt was looking at him. Or more like, looking at his mouth.

There was a beat and they both moved forward, catching each other’s lips.

“Fuck, is it ok to say I’ve missed you?” Jaskier breathed between two kisses.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, pushing Jaskier against the door and leaving his lips to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

“Ah, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” he half-moaned and got Geralt’s mouth back against his, kissing like he just couldn’t get enough- because he couldn’t. Geralt got rid of his coat, letting it fall onto the floor.

“M-maybe we should take a second to hang it. It looks expensive.”

“It’s a gift from my ex,” Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s skin, biting tentatively at his Adam’s apple.

“Or we could stomp all over it,” Jaskier deadpanned. Geralt laughed against his throat and Jaskier felt it resonate through his chest.

“So you’re the possessive kind, then?”

“Uh,” Jaskier bit his lip, “only if that turns you on.”

Geralt kissed a line up to Jaskier’s ear and caressed him through his trousers as he nibbled at his earlobe. In the softest, most quiet whisper, he murmured: “It does.”

Jaskier groaned with pleasure and Geralt kissed him in earnest, his hand still fondling the man’s inseam. He pressed his pelvis against Jaskier’s and both moaned from the supplementary friction.

“Let me try something?” Geralt asked against Jaskier’s lips before promptly getting down onto his knees.

“Oh, wow, okay,” Jaskier gasped as Geralt went straight for his belt. “Ah- w-wait, you- you sure?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, undoing the man’s button and zipper until Jaskier’s hands came to rest softly over his.

“No, I’m serious, you don’t have to.”

"I know,” Geralt answered, looking up at him. “I want to.”

“Okay. Okay. Just stop if it’s not good with you, right?”

“Right.”

He pulled Jaskier’s trousers down, not wasting any time. The curved line of his hardening cock was obvious under his underwear and Geralt slowed down, caressing the back of Jaskier’s thigh with one hand, the other moving up to his crotch. He palmed Jaskier through his boxer briefs (his navy blue boxer briefs) and was delighted to see him try to control his breathing through the surging wave of desire.

“Take them off for me?” Geralt asked, his voice rough with arousal.

Jaskier breathed out shakingly and slid his thumbs under the waistband, pulling his underwear down under Geralt’s relentless attention. Unable to stop himself, Jaskier took his own cock in hand and stroked himself, humming with pleasure with the first movement of his wrist. Geralt was sitting on his ankles, mesmerised.

“You like watching?” Jaskier asked, and even though the answer was pretty obvious, Geralt didn’t say it out loud. He raised to his knees, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s thighs, every breath softly tickling Jaskier’s skin, the hand maintaining its rhythm.

Moving upwards, Geralt’s tongue darted out to lick Jaskier’s balls, surprising him so much the back of his head hit the door, generating a moan which turned into a wince and then back into a moan again. Geralt’s smile shaped the kiss he pressed on Jaskier’s thigh as his fingers brushed through the man’s pubic hair, and slid up to find Jaskier’s hand, slowing it down.

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hot breath coming closer to his cock and had to bite his lower lip when the other man’s lips brushed against his fingers, kissing them one by one, silently asking him to let go. Jaskier didn’t need much convincing until, of course, fuck his goddamn unstoppable brain, a thought occurred to him.

“Wait!” he exclaimed and, at least, was blessed with the sight of Geralt looking up at him with surprise, his lips apart, tongue visible, and… Fuck, he looked so innocent and yet devilishly hot like this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just- safety, right? You can, uh, get STIs. From, you know, sucking off someone unprotected. So you should be safe, you know.”

“Uh,” Geralt frowned. “Do you have STIs I should worry about?”

“No, I’m clean. I just mean, you know, in general.”

“I don’t need sex ed, Jaskier.”

“I know,“ he said, unconvincingly. "I’m just saying. Cause, like, it matters, and, you… well, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded even though he didn’t really. “Anything else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“Well, you shouldn’t take my word for it.”

“What?” Well, he only had himself to blame, right? He did ask.

“That I’m clean. I mean you can’t take people’s word for it, sometimes people just-”

“ Jaskier. I’ve slept with strangers before,” Geralt said bluntly, missing the brief pained look on Jaskier’s face at being classified as a stranger . “You’re clean. I’m clean. If you’re fine with this, I’m fine with this.”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. I am. Sorry,” Jaskier shook his head. “Did I just ruin it? It’s just, it matters you know, so I figured-”

“Jask. I get it. It’s fine,” Geralt said, rubbing his thumbs on each of Jaskier’s hip bones. “Can I suck your cock, now?” he asked softly. Jaskier’s worries disappeared from his mind instantly, and he nodded enthusiastically about twelve times above the consent limit.

Geralt took him into his hand and stroked him, slowly but firmly, further limiting his brain’s already diminished access to oxygen. Geralt’s other hand had reached out to fondle his ass and his fingers began to lightly drum along the back of Jaskier’s thigh, brushing softly, ghosting against his skin, and sending a brand new kind of sparks of want to Jaskier’s cock.

After a few strokes, Geralt brought his lips to the base of Jaskier’s shaft, kissing the hairs in a way one could have described as chaste if it hadn’t been happening so close to another man’s dick. He then proceeded to drop fuller kisses on the soft skin of Jaskier’s cock, pressing his lips against the skin almost reverently as his hand kept working Jaskier. When he was satisfied with the soft noises and the sound of fast breathing above him, he guided his hand back to the base of Jaskier’s cock, pumping a few times before guiding the tip of Jaskier’s dick to his mouth as he licked .

“Fffuck-” Jaskier gasped, and Geralt smiled.

Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth and wrapped it around the very tip of Jaskier’s cock, kissing it wetly, his tongue running against the underside. He let go, only to kiss the side of the head with an open mouth and then took Jaskier’s cock again.

As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt’s enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn’t see coming.

Geralt’s hand fondled his butt cheek again. As he pressed the tip of his fingers lightly against his sacrum, Jaskier sighed and angled his pelvis forward the way Geralt’s hand invited him to. Geralt took a slow breath through his nose, obviously trying to relax as much as he could as he moved forward, taking in a little more of Jaskier in his mouth and sliding his lips over the ring of Jaskier’s cock.

“Oh,” escaped from Jaskier’s lips as Geralt drew back slightly and took more of him again. “Oh darling, oh, yes, that’s good,” he stammered, caressing Geralt’s cheek before drawing back and slapping his hand against the door to ground himself and to restrain from grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt groaned softly at the loss, reaching out for Jaskier’s hand, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Jaskier’s touch again. He moaned as he kept sucking him slowly, clearly enjoying the guiding hand on his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” Jaskier moaned. His thumb rubbed softly against Geralt’s stubbly cheekbone before his hand slid against his cheek and jaw encouragingly. “Oh, that’s good, yeah that’s- Keep going, love,” he whispered again.

Biting his lower lip, Jaskier kept caressing Geralt’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings and sliding his fingers through the other man’s hair, convinced Geralt would have purred around his cock if he could.

"That’s really good, sweetheart,” and as Geralt enthusiastically took him a tad deeper, he just couldn’t help himself. “Oh, that’s my good boy ,” he moaned and Geralt all but choked on his dick.

Pulling back and resting a hand against the floor, half-slipping on his discarded coat, Geralt coughed and tried to get his breath back from choking on his own spit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry-” Jaskier kneeled by him hastily - and heavily . Having his jeans pooled around his knees wasn’t exactly helping him be graceful. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Geralt rasped, a bright shade of pink all over his face. He coughed again.

“Do you need a drink or something?”

Geralt laughed brokenly through a cough. “To help me forget I could have bitten your dick off?” he asked and Jaskier huffed.

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled, brushing away the hair across Geralt’s face as he leaned to kiss him. “This cock has seen worse.”

“That’s always comforting,” Geralt mumbled against his lips.

Jaskier laughed and caught his lips into another kiss, enjoying the way Geralt sighed comfortably, and held on to the back of his neck. His hand wandered to find the hem of Geralt’s shirt and slipped under his waistband before he arrived at a bright idea. “What if - and I know it’s going to be a very bold, and novel concept, but hear me out - what if we stopped using my front door and living room floor as acceptable fucking surfaces and straight out moved to the bed?”

“Hmm,” Geralt mused falsely. “Didn’t know there was anything straight about you,” he snarked and was met with a playful slap on the breast accompanied by Jaskier’s cackling laughter.

“Oh, look who’s talking now!”

They fumbled to get Jaskier back on his feet - “well I do love to spend time on my knees” - and got rid of the jeans which were annoyingly getting in their way, to then move on to the bedroom.

His bedroom, Jaskier decided, was absolutely ruined . Nothing would ever look better than Geralt sprawled on his bed, naked, his hard cock pressed against his lower belly. If Geralt ever decided to break things off with him - a thought which, despite people often calling him dramatic, he knew was perfectly realistic - Jaskier would have to change the room entirely. He would repaint the walls, get new furniture, burn the bed, maybe, or - to simplify - move places. No, there was no way a single soul could ever sleep on sheets which had touched Geralt’s skin without missing his presence like any respectable bard would miss their medieval lute.

At that moment, however, this bard was straddling Geralt’s lap, his arms around Geralt’s neck, while being held around his middle and kissed languorously. They were both naked, every inch of skin yearning to feel the other, and not a single thing was amiss.

“Would you like to touch yourself for me, darling?” Jaskier asked between two kisses, his voice low and syrupy.

A groan came from the bottom of Geralt’s throat and vibrated against Jaskier’s tongue.

“Fuck, I love the noises you make,” he whispered against Geralt’s lips, catching the man’s tongue in another open-mouth kiss.

Geralt started stroking his own cock and howled, and Jaskier broke the kiss unintentionally, unable to stop smiling at the sheer bestiality of the man.

Jaskier smacked his lips against Geralt’s a few more times as Geralt chased his mouth for more. Curving his hand around Geralt’s cheek, he kissed him one more time before slipping his thumb on his lips. He didn’t expect Geralt to kiss his finger, chastely, then lick its tip and lustfully take it in his mouth. Jaskier didn’t sigh as much as he whined .

“Would you prepare yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, making his intentions clearer, his voice a bit hesitant but hopeful.

Geralt let go of his thumb, letting Jaskier caress his lips lovingly. “Maybe it’s better if you do it,” he said, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s palm in an obvious attempt to hide his face.

“Is it?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt closed his eyes, something like regret written on his face.

“I’m not very good at it,” he grimaced.

“You’ve done it before?”

Geralt hummed, uncomfortable. “Since last time,” he clarified. “It didn’t really- I don’t know, maybe it’s not my thing,” he shrugged, still avoiding Jaskier’s eyes.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered, his voice coated with kindness, unable to stop himself as he tipped Geralt’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. “You can’t become a virtuoso on the first try,” he said.

Geralt frowned but then hid his discomfort behind a playful look. “Are you saying my ass is a musical instrument-”

“Shush, you!” Jaskier giggled. “I’m trying to be serious, for once!” he chastised him.

Geralt snickered and hid his face back into Jaskier’s hand, softly kissing his wrist.

“Maybe you had one of the best orgasms of your life the first time you rubbed one out but we , regular human beings, had to work for it,” he paused for more dramatic flair. “L ong and hard and again and again …” he wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt snorted. “We learn what feels good and what doesn’t. Just because you’re ol-” Geralt gave him a pointed look “ -der doesn’t mean you don’t need to get to know yourself.”

“Nice save,” Geralt deadpanned.

“I know, right? Almost seamless,” Jaskier smiled back, clearly full of shit, and went in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. “I think I’d rather-” he hesitated, “get on with it, you know.”

“Get on with it?” It was Jaskier’s turn to raise an unconvinced eyebrow.

“Yeah, just get it done.”

“My, what a romantic you are,” Jaskier snickered and Geralt rolled his eyes, trying to make amends by rubbing Jaskier’s skin with his thumb where his hand rested on his hip.

“You just said it, first times suck. I just gotta- get through it and then, well. Hopefully, we get to the good stuff.”

“G- get through it ? You know this isn’t CrossFit, right?”

Geralt snorted. “You know what I mean,” Geralt said, then bit his lip as he frowned, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “You know I’m not-,” he waved his hand, “good at this.”

“Words?”

He puffed. “Yeah, words.”

“Yeah, I got that. I hear you.” Jaskier smoothly brushed a strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. “There’s something else I heard. ‘First times suck’ ? Well challenge accepted, my dear,” he said and Geralt laughed as he kissed him again.

Geralt let himself be slowly pushed down to the bed as they kissed, his hands moving up Jaskier’s back, feeling the muscles along the way. His hand reached the back of Jaskier’s neck, covering it for a moment before he buried his fingers into the man’s hair as they softly ground against each other.

Jaskier slid his hand between them, giving both of their cocks a pull before moving lower. “Raise your legs for me, darling?” he asked in low tones, sliding his hands under Geralt’s knees. He could feel Geralt slightly tensing up as he set his feet to the mattress. It didn’t feel like it had anything to do with the scar Jaskier had brushed with his fingertips.

“Shouldn’t I be on my hands and knees?” he asked in a breath while Jaskier’s hands found their way back to his chest.

“You could,” he kissed a spot on his jaw, caressing Geralt’s pectoral. “You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” his voice was fairly tight and Jaskier faintly wondered if it was any clue to the state of his ass- and then kept the thought very much to his stupid dick-jokes self.

“Nah, not necessarily,” he whispered, trying to make his hands into a calming, solid presence against Geralt’s skin, caressing his breasts, his ribs, his clavicles, lining his scars with the care they deserved. Whichever God carved this man’s body, Jaskier swore to worship them until the end of his days.

“It can be straining to hold that position. Also…” Jaskier raised himself to face Geralt, picking up the man’s hand as it slipped over his shoulder and kissed the root of each finger. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said. “We don’t have to do it today.” He weaved his fingers between Geralt’s and kissed their tips. “And we don’t have to do it ever.”

Geralt’s face became closed off as he took a slow breath in, bolting up the gates before Jaskier had a chance to read him. He raised to meet Jaskier, his hand finding the perfect place at the back of his neck, and kissed him earnestly.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said against his lips.

“Yeah?” Jaskier gasped. “Got you, loud and clear,” Jaskier whispered and leaned into another kiss.

He broke away from Geralt to reach his nightstand drawer, pulling out some lube and condoms. He grabbed a pillow, invited Geralt to raise his hips and slid it underneath.

“Now, where was I?” he said under his breath, settling between Geralt’s legs and rubbing their bodies against each other. Geralt moaned and wrapped a leg around Jaskier’s pelvis, grinding back eagerly.

Holding his thigh with one hand, Jaskier began kissing his neck, licking and biting the skin at his throat, intending to take care of every inch of Geralt’s body. He licked one of Geralt’s nipples, extracting a moan from Geralt when he sucked and scraped his teeth against the strong muscle of his tit. Feeling Geralt slowly relax under his hands, he headed lower, kissing the pale hairy line that led from his navel to his cock.

He squeezed Geralt’s cock gently, carefully caressing the tip with his thumb and watching the precome spread, shiny against the soft skin. He looked up at Geralt as he moved his hand steadily up and down, a spark of ecstasy jumping from his heart to his cock at the sight of Geralt, eyes closed, biting his lower lip. Every moment assured Jaskier that pleasuring this man was actually his entire life’s purpose.

Geralt hummed with pleasure as Jaskier wrapped his lips around his cock, already struggling not to buck his hips when Jaskier took more of him in his mouth.

Jaskier couldn’t help but hum around his dick as he took it in, playing with depth and rhythm like a true maestro, his fingers threading through the light grey curls of Geralt’s pubes. He then let go of Geralt’s cock with an obscene pop that made him laugh and licked up from the spot right above Geralt’s balls.

Geralt’s hips stirred in both pleasure and surprise.

Jaskier got his hands back on the lube as he kissed and licked the man’s balls, encouraged by the whines and groans that escaped Geralt’s throat. He warmed his lubed fingers against each other and caressed Geralt’s ass with what he wouldn’t deny was absolute adoration. “Can I touch you, darling?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

Geralt breathed a “yeah” and sounded almost like he was begging but Jaskier gracefully didn’t comment on it. (He, however, definitely took note.) Instead, he slid a hand between Geralt’s cheeks and brushed a finger against his hole as his mouth drove back down Geralt’s beautifully thick cock.

Jaskier teased a little, trying out different pressures against the man’s hole before the song of Geralt’s moans left no room for doubt. He slid his forefinger in while his other hand caressed Geralt’s inner thigh and finally felt the heat of Geralt’s body wrapped around his finger. He pulled back slightly and pushed again, this time steadily driving his finger deeper, synching his hand with the movements of his neck.

Despite Geralt’s frequent struggles with words, his gasps and moans were graced with great clarity and proved sufficient to let Jaskier know he was right to keep going. As far as non-verbal cues go, he also quickly found delight in feeling the walls of Geralt’s ass tightening around him and the taste of more precome coating his tongue.

“ Ah , your mouth,” Geralt moaned, reaching out and grasping onto Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier closed his eyes and moaned, aching for better friction than the bit of sheet he could rub his cock against. Grabbing the lube with one hand, he couldn’t help but jerk himself a couple of times as Geralt’s hand kept pulling his hair with each bop of his head.

Pointedly slowing down and looking up, he waited for Geralt’s attention to focus on him. He made a point of keeping their eyes locked as he shamelessly pulled up and let go of his cock. “D’you want another finger, honey?” he asked, perfectly aware of how depraved he had to look with his hair astray and his lips as probably as crimson as the tip of Geralt’s cock.

Geralt pulled him closer and met him with a crushing kiss as he nodded and moaned against Jaskier’s brow. “Hm- wait,” he breathed, holding Jaskier back as he started to let go, “I haven’t touched you at all,” he complained, his hands cupping Jaskier’s ass in a kind but firm grasp.

“Ah- It’s alright, love,” Jaskier said. “We’ve got time for that,” he smiled against Geralt’s lips but before he could leave again, Geralt grabbed his hand.

“I want you to feel as good as I do,” he breathed.

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’m feeling fantastic,” Jaskier grinned. They kissed one more time before Geralt let go of him and Jaskier drove his attention back to his lover’s lower body.

Geralt sighed as he settled his head back against his pillow, muttering something about how Jaskier was going to kill him.

Jaskier brought one hand at the base of Geralt’s cock, put his mouth back to work and fingered him a little while longer before adding another slick finger. Geralt whined and Jaskier reached out for his hand, threading their fingers together, hoping Geralt would know it was his way of checking in before Geralt sighed “ Yeah, s’good ,” in a tone that sounded pretty far gone.

He fucked Geralt with his fingers a few tentative times and curled them softly on the way out. In case he had any doubt his fingers were brushing against the right spot, Geralt’s hips jerked, driving his cock further down Jaskier’s throat.

“Ah, fuck ,” Geralt moaned. “Fuck, sorry,” slipped from his lips as if he was holding back so many more words.

Jaskier squeezed his hand in reassurance and kept sucking on Geralt’s dick until he could feel him tremble. He rubbed against Geralt’s prostate, drinking in every noise leaving the man’s lips, every movement revealing his pleasure.

“Ah, Jask,” Geralt moaned again, clutching to Jaskier’s hand like nothing would ever be able to make him let go. “Jas- Jaskier, ah , Jask, wait, I’m gonna-”

His hips buckled and his back raised from the mattress as he came, mouth open, gasping. He moaned and groaned as Jaskier kept fucking him onto his fingers until he was done spilling.

Jaskier slid his fingers out of Geralt’s ass, unable not to pull on his own cock even as he wiped off his mouth and tried to catch his breath, resting his forehead against the soft flesh of Geralt’s hip.

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered as he stretched, the last tingles of pleasure leaving his body. He brought his hands to his face, covering his blush and groaned “ fuck ” in a wholly different tone.

“Hey,” Jaskier gasped, slowing down the movements of his wrist and bringing his other hand to touch Geralt’s arm. “Hey, you alright?”

“Hmm,” he groaned from under his hands.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked and Geralt huffed.

“I just came like a teenager, darling ,” Geralt mumbled, the edge of his sarcasm largely smoothed out by post-coital bliss.

Jaskier chuckled. “No, you didn’t. You held up really well,” he said, caressing Geralt’s forearm. “My charms were simply too mighty for you to keep it in any longer,” he whispered, and kissed his other wrist and hand, hoping Geralt would emerge from his hiding place.

Geralt groaned again, unconvinced, but let his hand slip away when Jaskier kissed his knuckles, allowing the other man to paint his cheek with the sweet brush of his lips.

“I wanted you,” Geralt whispered, in a weak, almost plaintive way.

“I’m still right here, love,” Jaskier whispered back. “You still have me,” he said at the corner of Geralt’s lips, pressing his mouth softly against his. He found Geralt pressing back with the same tenderness then savouring the taste his own come on Jaskier’s tongue.

They stayed like this for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s arms, slowly kissing and holding each other.

“Do you need me?” Geralt asked after Jaskier buckled against his hips involuntarily.

“If your schedule allows it,” Jaskier joked, hiding his face in his neck and humming as he rubbed himself against Geralt.

“What do you want?” Geralt asked, caressing the length of Jaskier’s back, pressing his fingers along the muscles, waking up every fibre of Jaskier’s body.

“This,” Jaskier murmured, “This is perfect.”

He rubbed himself slowly against Geralt as the man covered him in caresses, the callousness of Geralt’s hands contrasting with the softness of his gestures. He ground against Geralt’s hip lazily, welcoming the pressure of Geralt’s hands on his ass, feeling the imprint of each finger into his flesh. His cock was still smeared with lube and the mess he’d spit onto Geralt’s pelvis made for a dirty, wonderful help.

“You look so good like this,” Geralt whispered, kissing a spot under his ear. “You feel so good against me,” he said softly, his tenderness almost making Jaskier come on the spot.

“ Ah , please, touch me,” he begged and Geralt reached for his cock like a servant knight, enthusiastically escorting him to rapture as Jaskier fucked into his hand again and again and again , his shout resonating through the bedroom as he came.

Geralt held him as Jaskier made his way back down, their bodies sweaty and well spent, comfortably intertwined.

After a while during which Jaskier’s mind drifted and fluttered between sleep and consciousness, he adjusted his body to kiss the side of Geralt’s jaw.

“Care to be introduced to my shower?” he asked sleepily.

“Hmm. Good call,” Geralt nodded, and pressed a kiss against his temple.

When Geralt walked out of the shower, freshly cleaned up and smelling like Jaskier’s lemon soap, his clothes were neatly arranged on the bed. He got dressed and followed the sound of Jaskier’s humming, finding him in the kitchen frowning at some delivery menus. He was biting his lip, seeming pretty conflicted and Geralt surprised himself thinking: shit, he’s cute.

He kept expecting to have a change of heart any minute now. It was, after all, bound to happen, the next logical step, the most probable outcome: one morning he would wake up and realise that surely this had all been fun but he wasn’t into it anymore. He just had gotten a bit confused and wasn’t actually feeling so much for this man- or any other man, or any other person for that matter.

After splitting up with Yen, he thought he’d never grow fond of someone enough to want anything (at least anything more than sex, but even sex was quite low on his list of priorities). With Jaskier, though- it was like every other day, Geralt would find another thing he’d like to share with the handsome man who had run into him and insisted on sticking around.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, noticing him in the doorway. “So I was thinking, either Casa Lauretta or Athumani’s Kitchen , what do you think? And before you say anything- I know , take out again, but I can’t both try to seduce you and subject you to my cooking.”

Geralt snorted. “You’ve had me in your bed already. Twice. ” he said, raising a playful eyebrow. “At what point will you consider me successfully seduced?”

“Uh, I don’t know, some time between the third dog and the second honeymoon, I guess?” Jaskier pretended to ponder.

Geralt blinked at him and his smile froze on his face. He often struggled with words to begin with but Jaskier mastered the art of leaving him speechless. Banter was his realm. Jaskier knew the terrain by heart and he revelled in it. He was light on his feet and quick on his toes. Every time Geralt tried to play his game and stepped towards Jaskier, the distance separating them seemed to grow.

He felt like a novice trying to catch up with a man who had hiked the trail his whole life, knew its twists and turns by heart. No matter how much he tried to relax and enjoy the sights by Jaskier’s side, he still felt the man would always be ahead of him. Like he would never be able to catch up and stay stuck in the land of the new and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. “What’s in these cupboards of yours?“ he asked, brushing past Jaskier to open a few of them. At first, the answer seemed to be both everything and not much at all . But after initial confusion, he realised Jaskier might actually have a system.

Items weren’t sorted by kind but rather by what goes well together: canned mushrooms next to rice, coconut milk next to curry powder, sliced bread between jam and mustard. He wasn’t sure why "365 Lesser-known Eastern Medieval Poems” was stacked with cereals, or why Jaskier’s watch was in a bowl, but he could find out with time.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he realised Jaskier was playing with his hair, a bit of a smitten look on his face. As Geralt looked at him, Jaskier froze and blushed.

“Sorry,” he said, retreating his hand. “I love your hair,” he said sheepishly.

“I lost my hairband somewhere,” Geralt said, looking around.

“It looks good like this too,” Jaskier said. “Pretty sure it looks good all the time,” he smiled and brushed an escapee strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear.

And here it was: another immensely confusing thing about Jaskier. The man radiated self-confidence 99% of the time. He could bathe in the attention of a crowd, flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger and whisper the filthiest words, dirtiest things- he could fantasize out loud about getting married to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yet there was also a shyness about the smallest of things, a vulnerability . It made Geralt want to pick him up and take him to safety- and he was perfectly aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But it felt like maybe, Jaskier’s hidden, more reserved side was a path where they could meet halfway.

He leaned towards him and kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Jaskier smiled and his whole face illuminated. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good,” Geralt nodded, taking his attention back to the cupboard. And so here he was again, taking a step back on what had started to feel like a comfortable route and stiffly navigating in between the metaphorical potholes on the road leading to Jaskier. As it turned out, talking about how his ass felt after getting fingered was not Geralt’s forte either. But Jaskier - in a moment of extreme humility - had described himself as a master of words and rhythm and that’s exactly what he was. He could use any word, touch upon any topic, express any emotion. Jaskier had a whole planisphere at his disposal, a means to take any road; Geralt had shitty directions and a compass that only told North once in a blue moon.

“No pain?”

“No,” he answered, closed the cupboard and exited Jaskier’s personal space to grab the menus. “Maybe delivery’s better, you’re right,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jaskier answered. “You do that a lot,” he pointed out.

Geralt gave him a look above his shoulder. “What?”

“Changing topics. Avoiding conversations,” Jaskier explained lightly. His tone was not judgemental. He was merely making an observation.

And so, “I’m not,” Geralt lied. He only realised he had lied the second he heard himself. Fuck . “I didn’t realise there was more to say.” Less of a lie. Not quite a half-truth.

Jaskier sighed softly and settled next to Geralt, pressing his forearms against the kitchen counter. "Margherita, then?” he asked. Geralt could see the tight shape of his lips and the square angle of his shoulders. Jaskier had obviously seen right through him but was dropping the subject for his sake.

“You’re disappointed,” he said and Jaskier’s head shot back up to look at him.

“With the pizza options?” Jaskier joked weakly.

“With,” he hesitated. “Me.”

“No-” Jaskier argued right away, raising his hand to cut him off. But Geralt knew how it was, what people expected, not unfairly, versus how little he could offer.

“It’s fine,” Geralt said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-,” he paused to weigh his words carefully, eyes focused on the menus. "I’m not very good at-” he hesitated then snorted under Jaskier’s confused look. “ Opening up ?” he said, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction.

Jaskier laughed and reached out to rest his hand over Geralt’s. “Well, we’ve talked about this,” he said, with a shine in his eyes. “Practice makes better.” Geralt hummed, looking at Jaskier’s hand over his. To his surprise, Jaskier retracted his hand somewhat suddenly and he missed the weight of it right away. “And it’s not like we know each other that well, as you said,” he shrugged, at the edge of Geralt’s field of vision.

“I am ok,” he said, answering Jaskier’s previous question more honestly. “Bit weird but ok.” His brain then caught up with Jaskier’s words a moment too late; as you said ?

"Okay,” Jaskier said, offering a shy smile. “I- it’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally to you. I just- well, I’d just like you to be more comfortable with me. But we’ll get there, right?”

Geralt swallowed, closing and opening the hand that was resting on the counter to get rid of a slight tremor. Saying yes would have been another lie. He couldn’t make that promise. He had tried before, thought that maybe if he forced himself to be enough then things would work out eventually- but they hadn’t.

And so it would have been easy to say no , to back off entirely. He could tell Jaskier he wasn’t interested in building something, just wanted an easy fuck, to experiment a bit, and had simply gotten lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t repelled by his shitty personality and off-putting scars. It would have been so easy- to tell Jaskier, “I don’t know what you thought you were getting out of this, but you won’t get me .” It was complete and absolute bullshit, a sad pack of lies, but it would be so much easier. He could get back to his life, his job, his kid and the handful of friends he still had, and never think about blue eyes or milkshakes again.

If only the thought didn’t make him nauseous.

Fuck, he wanted this.

“This isn’t casual for you, is it?” he asked, voice tight, and Jaskier startled, almost taking a step back. His face made an odd succession of expressions and he opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again.

“I- I can be casual. I can be very casual. That’s not a problem, that’s not a- but I-,” he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair nervously. “Fuck, you really don’t fuck around, do you?” Geralt tried to come up with something to say but Jaskier shook his head, his voice way calmer now even if a bit wavering. “No. No, I don’t think I want to be casual with you. And- And you- you don’t w-”

“Me neither,” Geralt cut in before panic took over Jaskier.

The man’s eyes grew a little wider. “You neither?” he asked, and fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious display of naked hope Geralt had ever seen on anybody’s face.

Geralt shook his head and Jaskier seemingly had to fight a full-body shiver.

Jaskier walked the two steps separating them and kissed Geralt with his entire soul. When he pulled back, Geralt leaned into him again for another taste of his tongue. He brought a hand to Jaskier’s cheek and kissed him with feeling. When they parted, he kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s, the tip of his fingers grazing the short hair behind his ear.

“I’m not used to wanting…” Geralt said. “Sex is good. But usually I don’t- I don’t want more. With you, I- I don’t want to ru- to leave . And it’s…”

“Weird, isn’t it?” Jaskier offered, his voice tight but tone playful. The shy smile on his lips was a delicious cherry on top, making the teasing even softer. (Little did Jaskier know that a cherry was the only thing in Geralt’s opinion that could ever improve a creamy vanilla milkshake.)

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier kissed him, and after working through so many words, Geralt ran out of things to say. “So, yeah. Margherita’s good,” he whispered, and it was his turn to make Jaskier laugh. The man cleared his throat and sighed like a weight had been taken off his chest.

“I can’t believe you said all that before even knowing Lauretta delivers vanilla milkshakes,” he said and Geralt poked him in the ribs until they half-wrestled, laughing, Jaskier’s back hitting the fridge- and they were kissing again.

They talked over dinner for a while. Jaskier came up with questions for Geralt to answer, helping him ease into a casual conversation. They teased and flirted and laughed, and soon ended up in bed again, tasting each other’s skin and leaning into each other’s curves.

“Full disclosure?” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s mouth as he was straddling him. “I really fucking love those tits of yours,” he said, cupping Geralt’s chest with his two hands. Geralt scoffed in between two kisses.

“They’re called pecs,” he said, enjoying the way Jaskier’s hands were basically venerating his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier replied, “I, good sir, am an artist, not an anatomist, and these are definitely some of the most magnificent boobies I have ever had the chance to see, touch and lick,” he said, brushing a nipple with his thumb while kissing Geralt’s jaw.

Geralt snorted and kept caressing Jaskier’s incredibly precious ass.

Jaskier sighed with contentment. “So, tell me your secret,” he mumbled against Geralt’s skin, finding a tendon in Geralt’s neck and following it with his lips, tongue and teeth. “How does a corporate lawyer get as buff as you?”

Geralt’s laugh was more of a scoff as he felt the more-or-less accidental brush of Jaskier’s cock against his.

“You’re one to talk,” he groaned, getting his hand into Jaskier’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. “Have you seen yourself, Professor?”

Jaskier suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I- well- I mean I’m nothing close to- Your body is,” he huffed, seemingly at loss for words which was a very odd thing coming from Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, bringing his hand to the small of the man’s back, and squinted. “You know you’re hot, right?” he asked seriously and witnessed Jaskier dissolve into a fit of giggles, ducking his head and blushing even harder.

“I’m- nah, I’m not-”

“ Jaskier ,” Geralt repeated with intent.

“I mean, I’m fine but I’m not- you’re like a, a- an underwear supermodel.”

Geralt snorted. “Right, they do love bodies covered with scar tissue in underwear magazines,” he said self-deprecatingly, making Jaskier frown.

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he chastised.

“If you say so-” Geralt shrugged.

“I do say so. Les Dessous de Beauclair can go fuck itself,” Jaskier replied and Geralt snorted again.

“Point still stands,” Geralt said. “You’re hot.”

Jaskier looked away again, biting his lower lip. “Wh-,” he started and then closed his mouth right away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Jaskier? I’m the one who isn’t much of a talker. There can’t be two of us,” he said, and Jaskier laughed, then hid his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s shoulders.

“What do you like about me?” he asked, his voice so small Geralt barely heard him. He let a moment pass, wondering where to start and how. He slid a hand at the back of Jaskier’s neck, caressing the short strands of hair.

“This,” he said. “Your hair right here. It’s short but long enough that I can grab it,” he felt Jaskier smile against his neck.

” Kinky ,“ Jaskier whispered.

“And I like your eyes,” Geralt said, too focused on picking the right words to get sidetracked. “At the bar, I-” he hesitated, pacing himself. “I noticed your eyes first,” he said and swallowed.

Jaskier hugged him tighter. “I love your eyes too,” he mumbled into Geralt’s hair. "They’re incredible.”

Geralt managed to duck his head and press a soft kiss below Jaskier’s ear. “Your cheekbones,” he said, his mouth finding the sweet spot at the base of Jaskier’s neck. “Your shoulders,” he whispered, kissing Jaskier’s clavicle, loosening their embrace to keep going lower. “Your collarbones,” he nipped his teeth at the bone above Jaskier’s chest, “they’re really, really hot,” he said and Jaskier giggled, still hiding his face by pressing his forehead against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt brought his hands up Jaskier’s back and felt him shiver, Jaskier’s hips startling gently against his, bringing a soft moan from the both of them. “Your back,” he said, “I really love your back- and your ass, gods ,” he linked his hands behind Jaskier’s neck and rolled his hips, their moans echoing through the room. “ Ah , and those fucking arms of yours,” Geralt whispered. “Have you seen those arms?” he repeated, still softly rubbing their cocks together with slow movements of his hips and caressing Jaskier’s arm. “I’m sure you could lift me up with those arms,” he said and Jaskier groaned. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you- would you like to hold me up and fuck me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his face pressed against Geralt’s cheek. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes please, yes,” he begged, and Geralt grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled just enough for Jaskier to whine with pleasure as they both rushed in an almost bruising kiss.

Jaskier had a hard time pulling away from Geralt, but finally managed to turn towards the bedside table to retrieve lube and condoms.

Geralt flushed himself against his back, tearing a moan from Jaskier as his hand directly went for Jaskier’s cock and Geralt’s dick rubbed against his ass.

“Oh fuck, yeah- yeah , we gotta do this some time too, darling,” he panted and Geralt groaned, grinding against him.

“You would like that?” he breathed, his voice low and coated with desire.

“Gods, I’d fuck you anyway you want, darling-” he moaned, “-but fffuck , if you keep going, there isn’t going to be much left of me.”

Geralt chuckled against him. He pulled back, freeing Jaskier from his embrace and sitting back against the wall.

Jaskier kneeled in between his legs and tore the package open, sliding the condom on his cock, realising after raising his eyes that he was under Geralt’s scrutiny.

“You okay?” he asked at the exact moment Geralt breathed “Come here.”

Somehow they crashed into each other, and yet fit each other’s shapes perfectly.

Geralt raised on his knees, thighs parted, Jaskier’s hands moving from his cock to his balls, making his hips jerk and his teeth close on Jaskier’s lower lip as he moaned. Jaskier slid his fingers further, caressing the sweet spot of Geralt’s perineum, making Geralt break the kiss as he gasped.

“Fuck, please, Jask-”

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier murmured, kissing him again and coating his fingers with lube.

Geralt tried his hardest not to jerk himself off here and now, attempting to focus on rubbing Jaskier’s cock while his other arm rested around the man’s neck.

Jaskier teased the rim of his asshole and got a quick return on his investment as Geralt pulled a little harder on his dick, tearing a moan from his lips. He chuckled a bit breathlessly and slid a finger inside Geralt easily. It didn’t take long at all before a second finger joined the first.

“You okay, darling?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt nodded against his cheek.

For a while, they stayed like this, settled against each other, Jaskier slowly fingering him until Geralt couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers and asking for more.

When three fingers curved into him and caressed his prostate, Geralt thought he was going to come undone. “Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaskier-,”

“Good?” Jaskier asked a bit worriedly.

“Fuck, yes , good,” Geralt bit in a tone that was halfway between “how the fuck could it be anything but good” and “don’t you fucking dare stop” , making Jaskier laugh again.

“Okay, darling- still love the enthusiasm,” Jaskier said while Geralt whined and begged until finally, fucking finally, Jaskier agreed he was ready. Jaskier slid between his thighs, his strong, well-built arms around Geralt’s middle and Geralt realised it was probably the first time he had been held like this in his entire life.

“Touch yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, his mouth against Geralt’s before Geralt shook his head.

“Can’t- gonna come if I do,” he breathed and Jaskier kissed him again.

“Please?” he asked. “I want to make sure it feels good,” he whispered, holding onto Geralt’s middle tighter.

Geralt complied and before long Jaskier’s hips were rising to meet his body. He felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock slide between his buttcheeks and touch the soft of his ass and he startled, pulling away and pressing back against Jaskier just as fast.

“Fuck,” he swore as Jaskier whined. “Please, Jask,” he moaned as the hand on his cock started shaking. He then felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock against him again, and the steady push of Jaskier’s hips as the head of Jaskier’s cock entered him. He whined as Jaskier pushed further and lowered himself as slow as he could with the lone strength of his thighs and Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Ok?” Jaskier asked breathlessly. A gasp was all Geralt managed. His thoughts were an endless thread of fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t sort out in any order. “Yea- ah,” he broke, “ fuck ,”

“Is it too much?” Jaskier asked, “I can- I can stop, do you need me to stop?”

“ Don’t ,” Geralt moaned, clenching every single muscle in his body to keep Jaskier against him and eliciting a cry from Jaskier. His arms were around Jaskier’s shoulders, his forehead against the man’s temple. Geralt was holding onto him with everything he got.

“I just-” he tried to take a slow long breath thinking about everything he had learned through meditation and managed one ragged breath. “You’re a lot,” he managed in a sigh, clenching around Jaskier despite how much he tried to relax.

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat half-way between pleasure and laughter. “I get that all the time,” he said cheekily.

“Don’t- don’t make me laugh,” he said, chuckling breathlessly, and Jaskier joined him, both trying to breathe through the involuntary clenching of Geralt’s inner muscles and the accidental movements of Jaskier’s hips.

They laughed into each other’s mouths as they kissed, mouth open, tongues licking each other’s lips, teeth biting softly, teasingly. When they were both ready, Jaskier pulled himself down as he helped Geralt raise on his knees and they met again, moaning and groaning.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered again and by then, Geralt had no fucking idea. He had never felt so tense and relaxed at once, uncomfortable but so fucking fantastic. His nerves and his ass were on absolute fire but it was good, it was good, it was so, so-

“So good,” he growled, aware that every part of his body was probably shaking in Jaskier’s arms. “ Ah , don’t stop,” he moaned, and Jaskier, incredible, astonishing, wonderful Jaskier did not stop .

Their hips moved in sync, feeding Geralt with the kind of friction he had never imagined could feel so good.

He let himself relax entirely into Jaskier’s embrace, sliding against the whole length of Jaskier’s body, pressing torso against torso, his forehead against Jaskier’s sweaty fringe, their noises brushing, their mouths breathing the same air.

“Ye-ah?” Jaskier moaned. “You like it? You really- ah , fuck- you- ah , you feel so good, does it feel good, tell me-” he rambled, far, so far from actually needing the reassurance.

Geralt groaned. “ Yes ,” he whined, “I like it, I like it, I like you , please,” and Jaskier whined and then did something- Geralt didn’t know, something, somehow, maybe went harder or faster or different, but he pulled and pushed and Geralt lost his fucking mind. He did it again and again, kissing Geralt, licking his neck, biting on his earlobe, caressing his nipples, bruising his hips in his grasp, pulling on his cock, whispering into his ear and making him whine and moan and shout until Geralt begged to be undone.

“I’ve got you, love,” Jaskier said, “I’ve got you.” Jaskier pulled harder on his hips in a half-broken groan, making Geralt slip towards him a little more.

Geralt arched his back, moaning in delight from the new angle. His neck was left exposed for Jaskier to kiss and lick, and breathe against Geralt’s skin. Every cell in Geralt’s body was burning and electric, and boiling. Everything felt so good and so much and so Jaskier , so he begged, begged again, and again for Jaskier to hold him and kiss him and fill him as he came, and so he did. He came, held, and kissed, and filled, and perfect, and Jaskier came, too, gasping into his mouth as they fell into each other.

For a moment, there was no other sound apart from the unsteady breathing and an occasional moan from the two of them as they slowly, comfortably, came back down to earth. Jaskier moved first, turning his head to kiss Geralt’s cheek, pushing his long white hair away from his face, and Geralt turned his head lazily towards him, leaning into a kiss.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, probably for the hundredth time and Geralt, for the thousandth time, hummed and nodded. Soon they would detach from each other, groaning from the discomfort of their sensible muscles, their come-dirtied bellies and lube-stained sheets anything but glamorous.

But for the time being, they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders, eyes closed, content with the feeling of holding and being held.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt hummed questioningly.

“Stay for breakfast?” Jaskier asked. He missed the soft smile that drew on Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher fic #the witcher #bisexual geralt of rivia #bottom geralt of rivia #top jaskier #my writing #mine: no warnings #mine: geraskier #mine: modern au #mine: of fingers tongues and toes series

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isempiterna · 7 years

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Copy & paste into a new post (don’t reblog!)

then use the letters of your muse’s first name to describe their personality.

Tagged by: @starbrosforever

Lazy Amused Rageful Kickass

Soft Patient Amicable Reticent Regretful Outsider Whisperer

Tagging: i’m so tired please take it

#𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 ∬ memes #𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 ∬ 𝓛 (miscellaneous)#𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 ∬ 𝓢 (miscellaneous)#((thanks Jay!!#I could feel myself getting stuck on W so I was like. screw it #by 'whisperer' i mean;;; u know like a horse whisperer or dog whisperer or people whisperer. u know #she'd be a good whisperer #I'M SO TIRED I'M GOING TO BE D ))#((might come back & edit this later idk #kt's unfair bc sparrow gets more letters !! ))

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miikrokkosmos · 4 years

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jimin x reader: disney date headcanons!

Anonymous asked: hiya! Idk if this would be more weird than enjoyable for you to write, but I wanted to ask for hc about going on a date with jimin in the happiest place on earth! Esp since you worked there, right? Only if you want to though! I figured you might have some date tips and ideas or park knowledge that not everyone would think of anyway ;)

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a/n: omg not weird at all, I LOVE this request so much you have no idea. Idk if I have a lot of special insight or tips, but I hope you enjoy! Also I’ll be writing for the Orlando parks bc that’s what I know, and I also know celebrities often go backstage to avoid ppl but for the sake of this post it’s just a normal date out with Jimin and no celebrity treatment J Besides, who better to go to WDW with than the Disney Prince himself??

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· waking to a very excited Jimin flopping on top of you, embracing you close enough to him so he can half-whisper in your ear that “it’s time to waKE UP :D”

· you playfully pushing his head away with a whine to glance at the clock on the bed side table in your resort room – 6:55 am

· “jimin wtf this is supposed to be a vacation day, where u, u know, take it easy and sleep in”

· “but baby…the parks open in two hours”

· “right…two hours…so let me sleep another half hour”

· “NO D:” he practically shrieks, he’s full on pouting now, tugging your arm to help sit you up

· “I mean…we need the extra time to do our hair and coordinate our outfits :((((“

· you sit up and rub your eyes to fully take in his pouting form, eyes as big and sweet as you’ve ever seen them

· “well…I can’t argue with that”

· spending the next hour picking outfits that are comfortable for a day in the parks but complement each other nicely

· both of you styling and putting product in your hair mostly just to take cute selfies together and pics in front of the castle bc you know it’s all gonna get destroyed after an hour in the florida sun

· when you turn the corner on Main Street and see the castle and both just stop and stare with wide, happy grins for a few moments

· jimin giving you a toothy smile and sweetly grabbing your hand to get in line for castle pictures

· after one (1) silly pose jimin ignoring the photographer’s ideas for different poses bc he just wants to take pics in front of the castle with his arm around your waist and his lips on your cheek bc he knows the blissful, eye-closing grin that brings to your face and he wants as many pictures of that as he can have to keep forever

· then going back and getting in the long starbucks line bc neither of you ate breakfast in the two hour period you used completely to prep for the day and you need your caffeine to make the most of your park day

· sitting down on the hub grass in front of the castle to make some last minute adjustments to your fast pass selection for the day

· rock paper scissors bc you want to fastpass haunted mansion and he wants the many adventures of winnie the pooh (but it doesn’t really matter bc you both know you’ll wait in the standby line for the losing person’s ride anyway :)))

· giggling to each other whenever you get to use your magic bands bc you both specifically ordered matching ones

· jimin lightheartedly grumbling at how the splash on splash mountain was much bigger than he expected and just flat out ruined his hair and won’t believe you no matter how many times you tell him he still looks amazing (but that doesn’t mean he’ll try to stop you from continuously telling him that either)

· screaming your head off on space mountain which just makes jimin uncontrollably giggle behind you the entire ride so the ride pic ends up with your face like DX and his like XD

· having way too much fun in the gift shop after you ride pirates of the Caribbean trying on different pirate gear and taking goofy pics of each other

· jimin posing in his chest-out, hands on hips good boy pose for you with a big fluffy pink pirate hat on which you promptly make your new lockscreen

· grabbing a dole whip and rushing over to the people mover so you can just take a breather and enjoy views of Tomorrowland

· you have a soft spot for alice in wonderland and get on the teacup ride only for jimin to have WAY too much fun aggressively spinning the ride as fast as possible to get a rise out of you

· you feel a lil sick but his childlike giggliness is too adorable for you to not take snaps and video of on the ride

· “my love, I’m feeling kind of hungry”

· “me too…wanna get hot dogs at Casey’s??”

· “mmm...i was hoping we could make our dinner reservations at Be Our Guest?”

· “JIMIN WHAT RESERVATIONS THEY WERE BOOKED EVERY TIME I CHECKED”

· “that’s bc you didn’t try to reserve them as early as I did months ago…”

· somehow you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt more in love with him than in this moment but you’re okay with that

· playfully smacking his chest before jumping forward and smashing your lips against his, holding his face tight to yours

· jimin giggling right after, dimples on display and then hiding his face in your neck bc he can’t handle the cuteness that comes out in you when at your favourite place (but excuse u sir have you seen yourself)

· once you’re sitting at the restaurant “jimin does this mean we can please order the grey stuff for dessert” “of course, lovely, I’ve heard it’s delicious”

· you make a stop at Prince Charming’s Carousel after supper and jimin ends up just standing next to you on your pony, an arm around your waist as you enjoy the ride (since he gave up his horse next to you for a very little princess who really just had to have the same horse he chose)

· you pretty much just gotta stare into his eyes the whole time tho bc you can’t believe how beautiful he looks, grinning, all lit up with the night sky in the background and the carousel lights glowing in his eyes beaming at you

· you can’t really wrap your head around the fact that you are, in fact, dating a real life Disney Prince

· taking sneaky candids of him after the ride with the carousel as the backdrop bc you wanna remember how beautiful and happy he looked in that moment forever

· making your way to the front of the castle as fast as possible to get the best viewing spot for the fireworks

· jimin grabbing your hand right when the lights go down for the show to start

· you know the fireworks always make you emotional but you weren’t expecting for the waterworks that burst forth from within you this time

· there’s a difference between enjoying a fireworks display lighting up a real life castle and enjoying it when you’re deeply in love

· jimin sensing your emotion and the weight of the moment

· you being just a complete mess by the time “I See the Light” from Tangled is playing so he tilts your chin back with his finger, places a hand behind your neck and claims your mouth with his own, fireworks ablaze in the background

· you’re fully self-aware of the cheesiness of the moment but you really could care less and really wish you could just stay there and hold on to the happiness you feel in that moment, with jimin, forever

#jimin x reader #jimin imagine #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #thanks for the request!!#my stuff #jimin #pt

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marielambs-corner · 4 years

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Under the Studios Ground, a BATIM x OtGW Crossover

Wanted to expand a little on this AU idea, that’ll be mostly like the events of the show placed in the studio with the crew as the cast in different situations. And here we have...

Henry as Wirt

Bendy as Greg

An Alice Angel doll as Beatrice

Sammy as the Woodsman

The Ink Demon as The Beast

Brute Boris as that beasty dog that’d later turn into a regular, original Boris

The Lost Ones in Bendyland costumes as the Pottsfield people

Bertrum as Enoch

Level P’s lunch room as The Black Lamp tavern, with JDS crew being named by their roles (hosted by Lacie as The Mechanic)

Wally!Boris as Fred the Horse

Tom!Boris as Quincy Endicott

Allison Angel as Margueritte Gray

The Buttcher Gang as the frogs in the boat

Malice Angel as Adelaide

A Bendy Cartoon, all black and white, as the dream Greg/Bendy would have

Susie as The Queen of Clouds

Adaptation and Plot Points!

First of all, the show’s dialogues would be mostly adapted according to how the events in the crossover develops.

The studio is like in game on its singular places, but would be all mashed up according, again, to how the events develops (Like, Pottsfield = Bendyland, and that’s way in the beginning, but later we go to Level P, and then we fuse In-Game Boris’ hideout with Tom and Allison’s hideout to make for all that “I don’t remember this place to be so big/This place is so big I don’t even recognize my own home” sort of thing, inserting as well the extended rooms from BATDS as a way to connect both hideouts).

I’ve given it a lot of thought, but the episodes Schooltown Follies and The Ringing of the Bell don’t seem to quite fit in here, sorry :/

This means No Ms. Langtree, no Jimmy Brown (even if Sammy and Susie fits well but I already asigned their roles), no Lorna and no Auntie Whispers.

Same goes for the frog AKA Jason Funderburger. Sorry ú-ù

Sammy would be carrying a projector that he’d need to lubricate with fresh thick ink to keep it running.

Where’s Norman~?

Joey is The Lie...

The Flashback episode AKA Into the Unknown would be Henry getting the letter and pondering if going or not, encouraged by Linda, even if that meant quite a long trip and who knows what Joey had in store, specially when he invites him to go to the studio and he gets in...

Instead of turning people into Edelwood trees to get the Oil, they start to turn into Searchers agonizingly slowly (a regular Searcher would be a Swollen Searcher with no more Thick Ink).

You Do realize the dark tone it will take with the roles, right? Maybe I should go chapter by chapter seeing how it works...

The Music Department.

Hard Times at Bendyland

Songs of the Projector

Survivors’ Love

Lullaby in the Ink River

Toons in the Studio

Into the Studio

The Studio

There are parts where I just can’t figure by just writing, so maybe there’d be some drawings involved (actually I already got a third of the intro song).

One of the things that hooked me up with the idea of this crossover was the mental image of how the end, near the final battle against The Beast, would develop with these guys. So if you wan’t to tear your hearts out, I invite you to check under the cut~!

Gonna leave it as a dialogue only. If you are familiar with the scene, it’ll just resonate with you ^-^~

Henry: Bendy? Bendy!

Alice!Doll: I thought it was here...

Henry: A mask...

Alice!Doll: A tape.

Henry: It looks like Sammy’s stuff...

Alice!Doll: What happened here...?

Henry: Bendy! Oh, no. Bendy, are you--?

Bendy: ...Henry?

Henry: Oh, Bendy...!

Bendy: Henry, I did it...! I defeated the Ink Demon... *Coughs a lump of ink*

Alice!Doll: Oh,Golly! He’s also melting inside!

Bendy: I’m sorry, Henry...

Henry: No, Bendy. It’s my fault we ended up here. All’s been my fault! I shouldn’t have ditched you, that wasn’t right--!

Bendy: No, Henry. I mean... Joey...

Henry and Alice!Doll: What?

Bendy: He wasn’t here. He hasn’t been here since long ago. I- I lied to you...! And I can’t erase that now!

Henry: Bendy, no. That doesn’t matter--!

Bendy: It DOES Matter! *Coughs* There’s nothing you should be doing here. You shoulda go home.

Henry: No. I won’t leave you in here! I said I would take you out with me!

Bendy: Heh! That’s so sweet...! Lies are always sweet...

Henry: Bendy? BENDY!!

And one more thing. When I was plotting out this idea initially a year ago, I asked @/lnicol1990, writer of some Toon!Henry AU stories, if I could use their extended version of The Dancing Demon song (originally the intro for JT Music’s song Can’t Be Erased), and that’d replace Adelaide’s song with Bendy happily dancing and chirping while sining it in their journey. (Thanks again for allowing me. I know I haven’t done much ever since I told you about the idea but still means a lot you allowed me ;3;)

Alright! Thanks for bearing with me and my rants! I hope this would push me to actually do something for it ^^u

And again, if you are curious, want to know more about this, dig deeper than what I showed, you are totally welcome to ask!

*End of Lamb’s Rant!*

#BATIM #Bendy and the Ink Machine #OtGW #Over the Garden Wall #BATIM AU #Bendy AU #Bendy #Bendy the Dancing Demon #Alice Angel #Henry Stein #The Ink Demon #Crossover

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lovenliterature · 4 years

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My thoughts on folklore

(all my personal stuff will be crossed out so u can skip if you want)

the 1

Giving me strong first love vibes

Highly vibe with thinking you’ve seen your ex when you haven’t, such a frequent experience

V much reminds me of Stan and like, its nice to imagine what could have been without disliking how things are

Like the line about how you should show if you want someone, prevents complacency and I like that, love is work and when you forget that inevitably it falls apart

It’s also kinda nice to realise how many things lead you to where you are - if one thing was different it would all change

Comfy reminiscence

Favourite lyric: in my defense, i have none/for digging up the grave another time

cardigan

feels quite a mature outlook on a relationship

V pragmatic

the first notes, straight into lyrics that just fill me with nostalgia

also like its not denying your feelings, you still feel like an old cardigan but you feel special AS that without changing

Peter losing Wendy is such a good line 10/10

Music vid gets points too tbh

Oof chasing shadows in the grocery line is high key relatable (literally being at uni with my ex anyone)

Stars around my scars now i’m bleeding feels like he’s distracting from the hurt he’s causing, he heals wounds while causing others god this is a mess

Favourite lyric: chase two girls, lose the one/when you are young, they assume you know nothing

the last great american dynasty

Probably one of the closest things to a bop on the album?

the font and background in the lyric vid are perfect

love the juxtaposition with the wedding was charming/if a little gauche and the parties were tasteful/if a little loud - it’s like she’s so close to being accepted but it’s always tinged with disapproval

Favourite lyric: either she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green or free of women with madness/their men and bad habits (the bridge is just stunning)

exile

god what do i even say about exile??

Made me fucking bawl my eyes out the first time I heard it

the two perspectives are just so relatable and heartbreaking

Choosing Bon Iver to collab with?? Perfect, the voices mesh so well and its just gorgeous

the opening verse is very relatable and its so well articulated and Justin Vernon’s voice just really hits home

the I gave so many signs is high key relatable and i really really feel that

Also just the concept of both of them being left with no home - 10/10, no breakup is seamless

Favourite lyric: like he’s just your understudy - it feels like you’re gonna jump right back in but you’re not, you’ve been recast

my tears ricochet

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace/And you're the hero flying around, saving face - big oooooof, such a good way of showing how victims are expected to be the bigger person and be grateful idk

‘Cause when I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave - This is so relatable, like whenever you cut ties/fall out with someone you love this is such a strong feeling, they’re usually the ones backing you up and now its them you’re fighting with and that’s hard to reconcile

the bridge!!! OMG!!

Favourite lyric: and I can go anywhere I want/Anywhere I want, just not home

mirrorball

Also one that’s close to a bop

And I’m still a believer and I don’t know why - I know its not about disillusionment with politics/humanity but for me it’s very much, I want to believe in the goodness of people but fuck it’s hard

Favourite lyric: you’re not like the regulars/the masquerade revellers

seven

My favourite song literally from the second I heard it

Like the whole vibe is so very me

and though I can’t recall your face/I still got love for you

Very much reminds me of Sam, I can’t remember that much about him but I can remember how close we were and how important he was to me and I wish nothing but good for him

Love you to the Moon and to Saturn - sounds like it was written for me at about 7, Saturn was my favourite planet and this was the kind of music I listened to at that age, just v nostalgic

Verse 2 is just my favourite part of the whole song, the melody, hiding in the closet, everything. That youthful naivety really makes me think of my friends when i was little. Even when i had problems with my own dad i desperately wanted to rationalise my friend’s dad’s anger to protect her and she practically did come live with us.

Favourite lyric: And we can be pirates/Then you won’t have to cry/Or hide in the closet

august

Wow this one has about a million and one different meanings for me

Summer fling, being used, reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, took place either side of August especially with the alcohol imagery

Whispers of are you sure? - first relationship, so good at making me comfortable, let me take the lead

Will you call when you’re back at school? - first relationship, long distance

I remember thinkin’ I had you, both situations, the non-relationship thinking it could be more and the relationship thinking I wasn’t gonna lose him

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets - first relationship, the first time we had sex and just the first times we were able to relax and be open with each other, really nice innocent memory

Favourite lyric: August sipped away like a bottle of wine

this is me trying

Back to December vibes

Also sad vibes, no fixing what you’ve fucked up but you’ve gotta try

I don’t wanna relate too hard because relating to it means thinking about things I can't fix

Favourite lyric: They told me all of my cages were mental/So I got wasted like all my potential

illicit affairs

Make sure nobody sees you leave/hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Feeling of hiding and being hidden, not sustainable

You feel like you aren’t worth loving, aren’t worth people knowing you love them

A drug that only worked/the first few hundred times

Hmmmm Patch who the fuck could this apply to????

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me and For you, I would ruin myself

Value yourself higher boy but yes about a certain someone

Favourite lyric: And clandestine meetings and stolen stares/they show their truth one single time/but they lie and they lie and they lie

invisible string

Green was the colour of the grass/Where I used to read at Centennial Park juxtaposed with introducing him to Centennial Park - GORGEOUS, and highkey relatable

A string that pulled me/out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar - it’s always nice to see how relationships that didn’t work out can set you up for a better future

Favourite lyric: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven

mad woman

They strike to kill, and you know I will - yess bitch be angry

And there’s nothing like a mad woman - the notes and the delivery on woman give me CHILLS

The Pre-Chorus is gold, really relate to intensifying aspects of you that are criticised because yeah, fuck them

Favourite lyrics: No one likes a mad woman/what a shame she went mad/you made her like that

epiphany

Does this make me cry almost every time I hear it? Yes

The first verse being about war also makes me think about the mythologisation of healthcare workers as heroes, allowing governments to sacrifice them as martyrs

The melody of the whole song is gorgeous

Favourite lyric: Something med school did not cover/someone’s daughter, someone’s mother/holds your hand through plastic now

the medics are equipped to deal with the practicalities of treating people but not the emotions and not the feeling of not being able to help or even let someone die with their loved ones

betty

I am not sapphic but this gives me major sapphic vibes and I would die for betty

Give betty all the rights

Such a nostalgic vibe, fearless/fifteen/white horse/love story sound and i am HERE FOR IT

Also lots of red references and i love that

Really like figment of my worst intentions, turns a usually somewhat positive image upside down

In front of all your stupid friends? - really dude?? You cheated on her and now you’re insulting her friends??? What the fuck

Will it patch your broken wings? is a pretty line though

Favourite lyric: Would you tell me to go fuck myself?

peace

Natural assumption is that it’s about finding peace with a partner, i really like that it’s the opposite, committing to a relationship despite the chaos, despite the lack of peace

But I would die for you in secret - in the age of social media knowing someone has your back whether or not others are watching is so important (yes this sounds very pretentious i just mean like knowing that you’ve got that person no matter what is so important)

Favourite lyrics: Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other/Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

hoax

The vibe is just very calm and melancholy and i rate that

I am ash from your fire - this is such a good rep of toxic relationships, defined in relation to your partner, burnt by their bright flames, left behind

Favourite lyric: You knew it still hurts underneath my scars/from when they pulled me apart/but what you did was just as dark

#folklore #taylor swift #ts8 #my writing #music #lyrics #my thoughts on music

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platypanthewriter · 4 years

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The Dragon’s Prince 3/3

To be taken seriously, sometimes you just have to eat a few sorcerers.

Nancy and Elle between them were able to chant the anti-magic sigil—it looked like a brand, burned under Billy's ribs—into curling back, a little, and Nancy snatched it off Billy’s skin with tongs, and threw it in the fire. It belched oily smoke, and Steve yanked a fold of blanket over Billy’s face, uncertain what it would do in his lungs. The skin against his hands, under the blanket, was already warmer.

When Billy woke again, Steve was sweaty and half-undressed from holding a sleeping dragon for hours in front of a roaring fire. Billy jerked against his shoulder, clenching a scaled fist. “How does it work,” he asked, pushing away to keep his eyes steady on Steve’s, as he ran his claws over his own throat, and slid them along his wrists and ankles.

“How does what work?” Steve held up a cup of water, and Billy took it, pausing in his inspection of the bare patch of skin where the seal on his magic had been.

“What happens to me when I drink this,” he enunciated clearly, taking a deep breath. His scales scraped the sides of the silver cup, and Steve winced.

“I—I think you’re still—you were disoriented. It’s just water.”

Billy growled, water running down his arm as his claws pierced the metal. “Stop—you just—” He trailed off, then jerked away to sit at the other end of the pile of furs. “...you’re out of my debt, is that the deal? I didn’t wake up in sigil chains, but you don’t owe me anything—you don’t have to keep touching me—”

Steve scooted close enough to grab Billy’s scaled hand, and pressed his lips to its knuckles. Billy tipped to bury his face against Steve’s neck, breathing shakily, and Steve turned the hand in his so he could kiss Billy’s fingers, and palm, and down his wrist. “I couldn’t move, under your lead ass. But. Thank you,” he whispered. “Thanks so much for helping. You didn’t have to. You’d have been safe.”

“Had to rescue my prince,” Billy whispered back, curling closer, and Steve braced himself to take the weight of a cuddly dragon in the shape of a man, hoping he didn’t get crushed.

“I talked to Nancy,” Steve squeezed him, talking into his curls, “—and she, uh, she said we might be able to make a sigil band you can wear that’d keep something like that from—from taking hold, again. Knocking you out of the sky. I think—that’s probably why you thought I’d try to—”

“Make me immune to your one weapon against dragons?!” Billy repeated, his voice cracking. “You’re an idiot.”

“I know,” Steve huffed, his cheeks flushing. “Not every dragon, just you—”

Billy shoved him back across the furs, yanking at his clothes, and Steve yelped as their teeth banged together.

“You fell too,” he whispered against Steve’s lips. “You weren’t—that wasn’t a plan, you didn’t trick me to get me here and then control me—”

“You thought—” Steve blinked up into Billy’s eyes, then closed his. “...the little dragon. You thought we’d—do that. To you.”

“I know you let him go,” the scales of Billy’s knuckles smoothed along Steve’s cheek, “—but I’m dangerous. You—you can’t just go trusting—”

Steve yanked him into a deep kiss, then panted, “I trust you.”

Billy dropped his head to Steve’s chest, groaning.

“That’s what you were talking about, earlier,” Steve told the ceiling, hugging his dragon. “That’s—that’s horrible, we wouldn't—I'd never let anyone—are—are you feeling better? Your sister helped us. The air dragon. Breathed at us to break the fall.”

“...whoever did that to me,” Billy lifted his head, “—didn’t care that you’d fall, too.”

“...you are dangerous,” Steve reached up to run his fingers through Billy’s curls, tucking them behind a pink, but pointed, ear. “I mean, I know you’re safe, but I probably seemed like a necessary—”

“No,” Billy scrambled up and sat on him, “—no, you—your dad—I’m—he sent you to me thinking you might die, right—”

Steve was staring at the side the falling blanket had revealed, in the firelight—long clawmarks in pink skin, stretched with age, and a healed jagged tear. He smoothed his hand along the shiny areas between the freckles. “Wait, you—you’re the little dragon.”

Billy took a shaky breath, his hand jerking toward his side, then shook his head. “Now you know why I have to help clean up my mess.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Steve breathed, grabbing him by the shoulders, and pulling him down into a hug. “I think you weigh as much as my horse—”

Billy snorted a laugh, rolling them to the side. “...holding you to the one night.” He glanced up through his lashes, biting his lip, and Steve couldn’t resist.

“...you know it’s almost morning, right?” he whispered back. “You’ve already had your night.”

Billy stared at him for a long moment, then shoved him over onto his back.

Steve started sniggering. “...nah.”

“You’re pretending you don’t want it as much as I do,” Billy shoved him again, and Steve rolled off the rug, laughing.

“Maybe.”

“Definitely,” Billy growled, crawling towards him. Steve grinned up, pinned to the floor by his dragon, and Billy leaned in, his weight carefully braced, to start licking his face like a giant gross dog, and Steve yelled, laughing, and yanked him into an actual kiss.

Right at the moment Steve least cared, a thumping came at the door. He groaned, ignoring it, and heard Billy laugh behind him.

“Your highness,” came a kid’s voice. “It’s important!”

“...can wait,” Steve mumbled, but the thumping turned into banging, and Billy pulled away.

“They’re gonna break the door.” He pressed a kiss against Steve’s butt, and Steve growled, staggering to his feet, and yanking his trousers up. The pounding continued. He threw the door open with a glower, and shaky knees, from the two of them trying to figure out every single thing that could be done with Billy’s long wiggly dragon tongue. “What,” he hissed.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Billy shimmer and contract into his scaled human self, and Steve drew breath to sigh just as Max in little girl form punched him aside and ran in, followed by more children he knew, and some he didn’t. “Wha—what,” he gasped to Dustin, who snorted.

She ran to Billy and threw her arms around his neck, red hair streaming behind her, and Billy spun them around as she tried to climb him and look him over.

“You dunderhead,” she hissed. “You—you horny goatbrain. What were you doing there—”

“His highness asked me for help,” Billy grinned down, and she punched his shoulder, then punched it again.

“What if I hadn’t been there!” She threw her arms around his head again, this time grabbing him by the hair, and Billy yelped, smacking at her hands.

“That’s a dragon? He looks like you found him braiding his pretty hair in a tower, Steve—” Dustin wrinkled his nose.

“Max says he never wears pants,” Lucas crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrows, “—she says he hucks pornographic woodcuts at people—”

“Wait, wait, when did that happen,” Steve cut in.

“Wooo, sign me up,” Dustin snickered. “I guess the naked dragon man is good for something—” He cut off at the gout of flame that burned all the oxygen from the room, blasting their ears before vanishing without a puff of smoke. Everyone who wasn’t a fire dragon started coughing, and Billy dumped Max on her butt and meandered over to Steve, rubbing his back as he staggered to the window and threw it open.

“Yes!” Dustin gasped, and Steve hung his head and arms out the window, until Lucas drug him back inside.

“It’s still cold, even though she closed the Gates of Winter,” Lucas growled, shivering.

“Even though Billy made her close the gates,” Steve sighed, nodding. He rubbed his face, watching Dustin follow Billy around asking questions like “So if you ate a drumstick now, and then if you puked it up as a dragon, would it be a drumstick big enough for a whole village,” and “Don’t you think it’s irresponsible, Steve, that he could make infinite food with dragon puke, and there are hungry people out there that could be eating dragon puke.”

Steve dropped to lie back across his bed. “If he’d just pay his taxes, there wouldn’t be hungry—” their ears popped as Billy transformed back into a dragon, which took up most of the room, then grabbed Steve and held him up in both claws.

“I will throw him and knock you all out like bowling pins,” he rumbled.

“Humans aren’t furniture, Billy,” Max hissed at him, and all their hair ruffled a bit in the wake of her breath powers.

“They can be,” he growled back. “I’m starting a collection.”

“I’m just part of a collection?!” Steve yelped.

“Can you transform the other way?” The other kid squinted, and Steve tried to remember his name. Michael? Probably? “Can you make a huge human head on a dragon neck?”

“Yes!” Dustin yelled. “Can you—”

Billy drew breath, slowly, letting them really appreciate how long his lungs took to fill, and let flames flicker at his nostrils.

“Oh wow, this is gonna—”

Lucas grabbed Max, and Dustin, and some other kid Steve couldn’t see in the mass of dragon, and probably a few more, and yelled “GOODBYE!”, and the door slammed.

Steve looked around the mountains of scales surrounding him, and wished he had a rope. Possibly a grappling hook. He began scrambling up, putting a foot on Billy’s elbow—and the dragon promptly stretched his leg, dropping Steve back into his gleaming golden trap. He huffed a sigh, and tried pulling himself up with dorsal scales, only to have Billy roll just enough onto his back that they yanked out of his hands. “...help,” he gritted out, finally, and Billy snorted.

“I think I hear an unsexy tax collector.” He thumped his grinning face down next to Steve, upside down, so Steve was looking down at his chin. “Is there a tax collector in my scales? Maybe there’s a salve for this kind of infestation—”

Steve dropped to the floor, hugging his knees, and leaned against Billy’s cheek. “You did agree to pay when you signed your papers—”

“Do you know how expensive an anti-magic seal is, especially one strong enough to down me—and his kid—in midair?”

Steve threw an arm over Billy’s jawbone, and rubbed the soft scales around his throat. His appreciative hum vibrated the floor. “...I guess it’s a lot?”

“It’s a lot,” Billy turned his head, ignoring Steve’s laughing and flailing as he was pinned between the soft scales of dragony stomach, and the gleaming golden armor of dragony face. “You said you didn’t have enough to feed everyone, didn’t you? The hell is the king doing shooting allies out of the sky?”

“I don’t know,” Steve curled up, held against Billy’s side, “—it doesn’t make any sense. But maybe if there was more money to go around—”

“Nooope,” Billy nuzzled him, sliding his tongue down Steve’s neck, and into his collar. “You should usurp the throne. King Steve.”

Steve’s eyes had been drifting shut, but that had him shoving at Billy’s face. “What?! I—I’m not—no!” He snorted with laughter. “I’m not—I can’t—”

“What if everyone just starts listening to you,” Billy whispered, blowing hot air under Steve’s shirt, and running hot dragon tongue across his stomach. “Because your dragon comes to council meetings. Roars every time the king opens his mouth.”

“Tha-that—” Steve panted, squirming as he undid his shirt, “—that might work—you could—”

“You have to let me eat somebody,” Billy breathed against his prince’s exposed chest, grinning as he exploded with laughter. “Nobody will listen if I’ve never eaten anybody.”

“No! No,” Steve laughed, trying to wrap his arms around Billy’s nose. “No, you don’t really want to eat anybody.”

“I could make an exception,” Billy grumbled. “Sorcerer Brenner. I bet he’s the one who fired that spell off. He looks chewy. Like smoked jerky.”

Steve snorted, pulling on Billy’s horn so he could press kisses along the side of his face. “...maybe you could just chew on him a little.”

“I’ll just eat his legs,” Billy grumbled, nuzzling him back, “—maybe his arms—”

It was warm against Billy’s side, and weirdly...safe feeling, considering they were talking about him eating people. Steve sighed. “Won’t be your problem once you get back to—” he waved a hand, “—eating pirates. And things. Setting people on fire.”

“...set you on fire,” Billy whispered, sliding his tongue up Steve’s ribs, and over his collarbones.

Steve bit down an admission that he was on fire, and leaned to wrap more of himself around Billy’s face. “Mmmn.”

“Your highness,” Billy whispered, his voice rumbling through Steve’s whole body.

“What,” he mumbled.

“Why didn’t you want to come back here? Before?”

“...doesn’t matter,” Steve sighed, pushing himself away. Billy uncurled a bit, so his feet hit carpet.

“Your right royal knight.” Billy shrank, transforming so fast it made a cracking sound in the air, and grabbed Steve’s shoulders to turn him back around. “Has anyone come to see you, since you brought me back to your room? Checked to see whether I’d eaten you, or—” He bared his teeth and hissed at Steve’s headshake, then pulled him close, kissing his face. “...then nobody,” he stared into Steve’s eyes for emphasis, “—nobody knows what our bargain was.”

“I—I sent Max for Elle,” Steve felt himself warm at the dragon’s indignation, “—they—they know I’m all right.”

“Hrm. But, still. Nobody knows what I asked for?” Billy grabbed Steve’s face, his claws gentle.

Steve shook his head.

“What...would you have had me ask.” Billy leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, then pulled back, licking his lips.

“You changed your mind?” Steve frowned down at his feet, and Billy ducked his head to meet gazes.

“I think I—I think I could do better. I could ask for you to be one of my treasures.”

“What?!” Steve laughed. “Are you gonna hang me on the wall after all?”

“I would have to stay here,” Billy emphasized, slowly, and Steve’s eyes widened, “—to protect my greatest treasure.”

“I—I’m—” Steve laughed. “What are you—you don’t like staying anywhere—”

“What if I took you away from here,” Billy offered, and Steve took a shaky breath, imagining mornings waking up against hot smooth scales, and probably so much sex they’d both die of starvation. “No schedules,” Billy whispered. “No diplomacy, no problems you have to fix—”

“No, no,” Steve shook his head, pulling away. “I—I have to stay, there are—there are some people I can help, even if I’m not—”

“So I’ll help you help them,” Billy followed along, taking his hand. “They can’t tell you no if you’re using my money, right?”

“I—I can’t just—there are people in charge of these things for reasons—”

“General Hopper was doing pretty good out there,” Billy breathed against his cheek, and Steve wrinkled his nose.

“Please don’t tell me you’re—”

“And some of those sorcerers. Wheeler. Byers. Promote them to help. Battlefield promotions are a thing, right?”

“This is sounding like a coup again,” Steve laughed, wide-eyed.

“Get them all here, they can help you figure it out,” Billy kissed him again, and Steve let his eyes fall shut, forgetting his train of thought. “People you trust. Enough money. Whatever you come up with, I’ll make it happen—”

“This would take more than a night,” Steve whispered against scaled lips, and Billy snorted.

“I don’t think I should leave you here alone, treasure, someone tried to kill you today.”

“Are you calling me ‘treasure’?” Steve snorted a laugh, and rubbed his face to hide it, and Billy grabbed him around the waist and swung him around.

“That’s what I want to—what I wish I asked. Be my treasure.”

“That’s so corny,” Steve wheezed, trying to hide his flaming face with his arms. He yelped as Billy tossed him across the bed, and clambered up next to him. The bed creaked alarmingly.

“Is that a yes? All the best Feng Shui Hoard magazines recommend a prince draped over your—”

Steve kicked at him, then frowned. “Don’t eat anyone. Don’t eat my dad, or my mom, I don’t want to find you—using her toe bones as a toothpick or—”

“Is that a yes?” Billy leaned in, his inquisitive hum making Steve’s chest vibrate.

“You want to stay here with me forever and help me,” Steve stared up, squinting, “—that’s—what—what do you get out of—”

“And kiss you,” Billy yanked Steve’s shirt up, and started pressing kisses under his ribs, and down the trail of hair leading into his pants, “—and touch you everywhere—”

“Yes! Yes!” Steve yelped. “Yes, anything—anything—”

“Treasure,” Billy whispered, and Steve started snickering again, curling around his dragon to kiss his head.

#harringrove for Australia #harringrove #art by neonlaynes #platypan #platypan fic #platypan FINISHED FIC #Billy's a dragon #Also he's Steve's problem #Steve likes him too much #Sparkly Billy!#Billy definitely kisses the mirror a lot #Steve definitely watches

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yeet-or-be-hawed · 5 years

Text

“Lost and Found” Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fluff

This was another request for @shewalksinanotherworld! Thank you guys for being so patient with me, I’ve had major writer’s block the last few days but now I’m back full swing!

After getting separated from the gang, the reader has to learn to fend for themselves and survive on their own. Arthur thought you had died in a shootout, so boy was he in for a surprise when he sees a familiar horse in Rhodes!

You cursed the sun as you rode into Rhodes, the air was dry and hot and the dust caked your lungs. You were used to living it rough, but you were used to living it rough with others. Since you got separated from your gang, it’s been nothing but hardships one after the other. You tried so hard not to blame the others. You tried not to let it harden your heart. You tried to tell yourself there was a good reason they didn’t come back for you, or even attempt to send you a letter. Unfortunately you could only try for so long and being left alone with your own thoughts only made it easier for you to abandon hope and replace with with anger. How dare they just leave you behind like that? How dare they never even try to let you know their location? Something always nagged at you in the back of your head, told you you weren’t special and no one cared. It’s why your mama and daddy left you in the streets to starve. It’s why the orphanage was more than willing to throw you out on the streets when they became too overpopulated. And it’s why the people you came to call family picked up and left you without a trace. It didn’t bother you though, you told yourself. You came to terms with the fact you would be alone forever long ago.

You dismounted your horse in front of the butcher.

“Ah, hello young lady. You must be new to these parts, I ain’t seen you before!”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I been sellin’ to you the last three months, Eddie.”

the man became flustered and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.” You said flatly as you u loaded your hunt onto the butcher’s table.

An awkward silence fell between you as he handed you your cash. After you collected, you headed over to the saloon. It didn’t take you long to spend the money you had just received on whiskey and fried catfish.

“...suspicious lookin’ group down by the lake.”

“Saw one of em ridin’ through town yesterday, looked like a mean son of a bitch. Best leave em be till they move on.”

The conversation faded out as the two men left the saloon. You made a mental note to keep your eyes peeled, just in case they were bounty hunters. There seemed to be more and more damned flesh hunters every year. You waved to the bartender, “One more down here good sir.”

“Comin’ right up!”

He placed the shot in front of you and you knocked it back easily. “You reckon that group them men was talkin’ bout were bounty hunters?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow at you suspiciously. “Nah, I don’t reckon so. The men and some of the women like to come into town every now and again. One of ‘em actually asked me about bounty hunters the first time he came in though. Seem like a nice crowd, said the factory they all worked for up North shut down. ”

You nodded. “Thanks.” You placed a tip on the table and turned out the door. As you headed towards the sheriff’s office, you lowered your hat over your face and pulled your hair out of its normal braid. “Afternoon.” You said plainly to the man sitting in behind the desk.

“Mornin’.” The man slurred. You rolled your eyes, this sheriff was no more a threat than the hound dog sniffing around the saloon.

Your eyes studied the board of bounty posters. Your own was there and you grabbed it quickly. You’d have to remember to burn it later. When you removed it, something grabbed your eye. There were layers of bounty posters on the cork board, and sticking out two layers behind you could see AR for the first name and M for the last name.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” You whispered as you pulled out the wanted poster. There he was, a ghost from your past. “WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE. ARTHUR MORGAN, LAST SEEN IN VALENTINE. ASSOCIATES ALSO WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: DUTCH VAN DER LINDE, HOSEA MATTHEWS, JOHN MARSTON, MICAH BELL. ANY ACCOMPANYING PERSONS WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR AIDING AND ABETTING.”

He looked handsome as ever, even in some shitty drawing. Your first thought was, Arthur could’ve drawn himself so much better. Your second thought was, burn in hell, Morgan. You crumpled up the wanted poster in your hand and stuffed it in your bag. You had half a mind to leave it up, fuck all of them, they could rot for all you cared. They left you, he left you.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Arthur’s betrayal (or what you considered betrayal) cut you deeper than any of the rest. He was your closest friend in the Van Der Linde Gang, and even though you would never say it, you were hoping to make things more intimate between you two, and sometimes you felt like Arthur wanted the same. But that was a long time ago, before they up and left you in Blackwater. No food, no shelter, they even took your tent. All you had was the clothes on your body and the supplies you had on your horse. Arthur never once sent you a letter; you went to the post office every day, sometimes multiple times a day, hoping for a letter from Tacitus Killgore but it never came. You kept your old alias at the post just in case. That was what burned you the deepest. There were so many opportunities to reach out, and none of them did, not even Arthur.

You decided you would burn his bounty poster along with yours. If any of the others had bounty posters, they could deal with it on their own. Maybe one day Arthur will know your pain of having hisfamily uprooted and left on his own without a trace. You decided that would be a worse fate than being found by bountymen.

You felt tired as you mounted your horse, as if your body was being dragged down by weights. You sighed heavily and gave him a pat. “Come on boy, lets get back home.” With a dig of spurs, the horse sped down the trail.

Arthur cackled as Sadie read off Pearon’s letter in her best impersonation of him as they pulled off the slim trail from Clemen’s Point onto the main road leading into Rhodes. As he pulled out, a horse flew by them like a bullet. Long hair trailed behind the rider’s head and time stood still. He was almost certain that was who he thought it was, but that was impossible. Dutch said she died in the shootout at Blackwater. His eyes followed horse until it disappeared. All in all no more than ten seconds had passed but to Arthur it seemed like he watched that horse for hours.

“Well, come on then let’s go!” Sadie said impatiently.

Arthur sighed and gave the reins a pull. He was in a daze of his own thoughts the rest of the day and for the first time in months, your ghost returned to him in his dreams that night.

Arthur brought the brim of his hat farther over his eyes as he walked down the steps of the gun shop. He could tolerate most anything, but this dry dusty air was getting real old real quick. He gave his horse a good pat and a carrot, she deserved it. The horses around camp deserved more praise than what they got, or atleast Arthur seemed to think so. It must be just as hard on them all this moving as it is for everyone else. “Yer a good ol girl.” He cooed softly. He mounted effortlessly and took a slow pace down the main street of Rhodes. He wanted to whip the reins and tear through the middle of the street like a hell on a horse, but as a badged deputy, he had to maintain a low profile. Hosea and Dutch thought it was silly how serious he took it, he figured he was just doing his best to keep cover.

The horse caught his attention, an Appaloosa with a Leopard coat. It was so dirty, he could hardly distinguish the spots from the mud. Your hair was the next thing he saw. Big and poofy, no doubt from the humidity. When you turned, his heart stopped. “It’s you.” He said breathlessly.

You didn’t even hear anyone approach. When you turned to mount your horse, there he was. He was standing so the afternoon sun sent sunbeams dancing around him making him look like a blessing, but it felt like a curse. He looked too well, a new olive colored vest with golden accents hugged his chest and a crisp white shirt, so new it hadn’t developed sweat stains. His sleeves were rolled up as usual, you remembered him mentioning he hated how restricting full sleeves felt. You remembered secretly admiring the muscular arms he would leave exposed. He seemed a little beefier than you remembered and his beard was longer. You hated him for looking so good.

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” He said softly before pulling himself off his horse. He approached with a big grin, that bastard. He was met with a swift slap to the face.

The shock from your slap rippled throughout his entire body. Of all the reactions, this was the last one he expected. He rubbed the spot where you hit him. “What the hell was that for?” He hissed.

“That was for leaving me!” You half yelled. A couple people were already staring but you didn’t care. “I go hunting for a day and I come back to nothing. No letter, no explanation, no tent! You took my tent for Christ’s sake! I gave my all to you, to everyone and that’s how I’m repaid. Left for dead with nothing but the clothes on my back.” Arthur blinked. You were seething with anger, but your eyes were welling with tears. “You left me behind.” Your voice was suddenly soft and you looked at the ground. Arthur saw the tears fall into the dust. “You left me to die and didn’t even care.”

Arthur stammered, he had no idea what to say. “Dutch said-“

“What did Dutch say? I’m sure it sounded very heroic and made the decision very easy.”

“Dutch said you were dead!” Arthur finally snapped. “He told me you died in that shootout. I grieved over you, I cried for you.” His voice shook with emotion. He grabbed your wrist tight and when you looked him in the eyes, the raw intensity behind them scared you. “Had I thought there would’ve been the slimmest chance you were still alive, I would’ve fought to my last breath to find you.”

Arthur said more than he meant to say in a rush of overwhelming emotions and it took him aback when you looked at him with confusion. “What shootout?”

“Scuse me?”

“What shootout? Why did Dutch say I died?” You looked him dead in the eye and a pit formed in his stomach.

“I...I don’t know.” His grip around your wrists loosened as his eyes darted to and from your face. “Me and Hosea was plannin’ a job, but Micah and Dutch swore by this ferry job they was stakin’ out. I wasn’t with them, but somethin’ went south and the law showed up quick. We had to move out so fast we left everything expect the caravans and the horses. All that money, all my things, and I ain’t sure we can ever get back.”

You sighed. “I understand, that’s a lot to go through, but you didn’t think to try to reach out to me, even once? I been at the post office damn near every day waiting for something, anything from you!”

Arthur gave you a thin glare, “well I don’t remember gettin’ a letter from you, what’s yer excuse?”

You sputtered, it honestly hadn’t occurred to you. “I...well I was- you always tell us to be so careful! How was I supposed to know if Tacitus Killgore was still safe?”

He crossed his arms, he knew you well enough to know when you had been had. “And how was I supposed to know Marisol Fletcher was still safe?”

You huffed in frustration and refused to look him in the eye. “Yeah well, fair enough. That still don’t change the question: why did Dutch say I died in a gun fight I wasn’t even involved in?”

Arthur went quiet. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding. Dutch would never leave a gang member behind if he could help it. And what was the point in lying? To keep Arthur from returning to Blackwater for you? There had to be some reason for lying.

You took Arthur’s silence as an answer. It was apparent to you that even though you were alive, Dutch made it clear you weren’t apart of the gang any more. You cleared your throat and grabbed your horse’s reins. “It’s gettin’ late, I need to get back to camp.”

Arthur straightened up and whistled for his horse, she had a bad habit of wandering away. “C’mon, you can follow me. We ain’t too far from here.”

You shook your head as you mounted. “I mean my camp. I ain’t goin’ back, Arthur. I am very... happy to know you’re alive and okay, but Dutch has made up his mind. I’m dead to the gang now, I’m on my own.”

“That’s not-“

“But it is.” You looked over the horizon. “Come with me.”

“What?”

You were certain he heard you. You sighed, “never mind. That was a silly request, you’re as loyal as they come Arthur Morgan. Write me when you can, and I’ll always respond. Until then, Mr. Morgan.” With a snap of the reins, heavy hooves sent up a cloud of dust.

Arthur couldn’t decide if he was relieved or frightened by the sight of you today. His thoughts were in a whirlwind as he rode back to camp. Nothing about this made sense, nothing at all.

“Who’s there?” Bill called.

“Arthur, dumbass.” He rolled his eyes, who the hell else would it be? He didn’t even hitch his Arabian before jumping off and making a beeline for Dutch’s tent.

Dutch was sat on a crate just outside his tent puffing a cigar. He lifted a brow in Arthur’s direction as he approached. Dutch let out a thick puff of smoke and smiled, “Good afternoon, Arthur.”

Arthur tipped his hat, “Dutch.” He took a seat beside the older man and cleared his throat. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Ditched eyed Arthur uneasily, “sure son, what’s on your mind.”

“You remember the shootout in Blackwater?”

“Course I do.”

“Who all died? In the shootout I mean.”

“Ahhh...let’s see.” Dutch sat back and tilted his head up, Arthur thought he looked a bit theatrical. “Ol Davey was shot, but he died up in the mountains. Jenny got caught in the fire, the Calander boys, and Y/N was there too.”

“I thought she went out huntin’ that day.”

Dutch cleared his throat. “She did, she did. Returned in the middle of the chaos, her and that pretty horse a hers got shot I believe.”

There was a false note in his voice it was very faint, so faint had Arthur not been face to face with you just a coupla hours ago, he may not have caught it. His eyes slowly came up and met Dutch’s. “That’s strange.” He said slowly. “Because I just ran into her in Rhodes.”

Dutch’s cigar nearly fell out of his mouth as he stuttered and stumbled on his words. “That- I-.... are ya sure it was her?” His voice was steady, but Arthur could see the quick flare of panic in Dutch’s eye.

He crossed his arms and nodded. “Sure as the sun is high. Stopped and talked to her. She seemed quite upset we left her behind.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his cheek. “My cheek still stings from where she slapped me.” He paused and his tone was serious. “Did you see her and her horse get shot?”

Arthur could see the cogs moving in Dutch’s head. “No, I... I didn’t.”

“Then why? Why leave her there? Damn it Dutch we took everything she had with us! She coulda died!”

“What’s important is she’s alive now!” Dutch said hastily. “Did she have the money from Blackwater?”

“No. She said all she had was the clothes on her back and the supplies on her horse.”

Dutch’s eyes went dark as he stared off in space. “We don’t know that.” He said slowly then rose to his feet. “She coulda snuck back and stole everything we had waiting for us. Does she know where we are now?”

The look in Dutch’s eye was fierce, Arthur averted his gaze. “No, I offered to bring her back but she wouldn’t come.”

“Good.” Dutch nodded and paced. “We don’t need her comin’ back here and stealin’ the rest of what we got.”

“Come on Dutch, she ain’t like that. We both known her for years before we got separated, surely you got a little more faith in us than that.”

Dutch shook his head in frustration. “Now why else would she follow us here? Arthur my boy don’t you see? She’s greedy, she wants to take everything from us.” He turned toward Arthur and his eyes focused. “No contact with her, you hear me? Not even through the mail, you can’t trust the mail service any more.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Dutch, I think yer gettin’ paranoid in your old age. Why don’t we just meet up and-“

“No!” Dutch bellowed. “I said no contact. No letters, and certainly no meeting up and that is final.” He sighed and softened his voice as he put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I know I’m being harsh, but I just want what’s best for us, for everybody. I know you miss her, but we can’t trust her anymore. Take comfort in knowing she’s alive. It’s more than what most of us have gotten from this life.”

Arthur watched Dutch’s back as he walked away. Was Dutch descending into a new madness or was Arthur following so blindly that he hadn’t noticed until now? He did not know.

Arthur groaned in frustration as he ripped the page from his journal and balled it up. Identical wads of paper littered the booth he sat in at the saloon. Writing was always something that came easily to him, until now.

Y/N,

I spoke to Dutch and

Rip! Crinkle crinkle. Let’s not start with that.

Dearest Y/N,

Rip! Dearest? Arthur flushed. Maybe too much. Crinkle crinkle.

Y/N,

He paused and sighed, he knew what he had to say but putting it into words was proving easier said than done. This is the last shot, after spending an hour writing unfinished letters, this is the last one just say what you have to say. He laid the pencil back to paper and stopped thinking.

I’ve missed your company terribly, so I am quite happy to be writing you this letter. Mary-Beth told me to tell you hello and send you her warmest regards. She cried when I told her you were alive, by the way. Don’t you know it’s rude to make women cry? I guess I can’t say too much, I’m not much of a gentleman myself. We didn’t get a chance to catch up when we spoke, I am curious as to where you have traveled and how you’ve kept yourself. I hope you faired better than us. After the whole Blackwater mess, we retreated up North and stayed in an abandoned mining town called Colter. We about starved to death waiting on the thaw, Davey did die, but from a bullet wound. Ol’ John Marston got attacked by wolves, he’s okay unfortunately just a bit uglier. A lotta bit uglier. Once the thaw came, we hit a train owned by Leviticus Cornwall. We didn’t know who the hell he was at the time, and what a mistake it was. Apparently he’s some big oil tycoon, he’s hired the Pinkerton Protection Agency just for us, ain’t we special? So between Pinkerton’s, bounty hunters, lawmen, and O’Driscolls, we’ve managed to find ourselves farther east than I’m comfortable with. In my opinion, we’re too close to civilization and people. Hosea agrees, he thinks if we keep up in this direction we’re gonna end up right in the jaws of their trap and I couldn’t agree more. Dutch is... well, Dutch is Dutch. He swears he’s got a plan to get us outta here, but instead of the West, he wants to go to the Philippines. Or was it Tahiti? Or maybe the Philippines are in Tahiti? To be honest, Dutch isn’t making a lot of sense these days. The day I saw you in town I confronted him about Blackwater. Dutch is a lot of things and a liar isn’t one of them, but I swear I could see his brain ticking like he was searching for answers he didn’t know. Things are changing, Y/N and things aren’t as simple as they used to be. Remember out in Nevada, it seems like we were just kids then. The group was so small, we were all so young. We were the best team for scams, weren’t we? Even managed to impress Hosea. It isn’t like that no more, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I know you said you aren’t coming back to the gang and I understand, but I hope you would be willing to spend some time with an old friend. If you’re still around Rhodes, you should meet me at the saloon sometime for a drink. I look forward to your letter and hope to see you again soon, I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

Yours, Arthur

Arthur cringed at the last line, it didn’t sound as foolish in his head as it read on paper. He debated crinkling it in a ball and restarting but that was a page and a half worth of writing! He sighed heavily and carefully ripped the pages from his journal and folded them neatly. He would need a new alias, one no one else in camp would know. After a moment of thought, he signed the envelope as Morgan Callahan.

The morning fog rolled over the lake and refracted the morning sunlight over the waves of the shore. The morning air was thick and soupy, you could already feel your hair sticking to the back of your neck. You wiped your brow as you put on your boots and began the day. This wouldn’t be such a terrible place to stay if it wasn’t so damn humid all the time. Iron Flat Lake was teeming with life, both underwater and around its shores. The woods surrounding the lake were flourishing with wildlife. In the three months you had been staying here, you were able to gain a few pounds and keep a low profile. You kept your head low after Blackwater, being part of a gang was the biggest advantage to evading the law and without it you were left vulnerable; you adapted in response. You were an outlaw turned outdoorsman, you traded in your repeater for a bow and replaced blood lust with the thrill of the hunt.

After pulling on your day clothes and your boots, you began your daily routine. First, you check your nets that you had set the night before. You frowned down at the single bass flopping in the tangle of nets. Usually the yield was higher, but one fish is enough for breakfast so it was all you needed. After breakfast, it’s time to kill the fire and take down the tent. Your spot was safe, but paranoia isn’t always a bad thing when you’re on the run, never such thing as too safe. The next step of the day is one that you almost cut out completely- checking the mail. The mid morning sun was warming the thick air as you came into Rhodes.

“Got anything for Marisol Fletcher?”

“Yes actually,” you looked up in surprise, you hadn’t had anything in weeks. You had to close your slack jaw when the postman turned back to you and handed you an envelope. “Here you are.”

You gave him a bright smile and a nod. “Thank you very much!”

You sat at the bench in the shade as you inspected the parcel. You didn’t recognize the name, Morgan Callahan? But you recognized the handwriting immediately. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your face as you read over Arthur’s beautiful handwriting. You forgot how eloquently he wrote, you could almost hear his voice reading you the words. The pages had a slight leather scent, they must’ve came from his journal. A memory of him sitting against his caravan lost in his drawings came into your mind. As you finished the letter, you reread the last sentence over and over. I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

How just like Arthur, it brought back so many confusing memories. Late night conversations where you could swear you saw his eyes linger on your lips, small moments in saloons after he’s had too many drinks and he’d get a little handsy but never in a disrespectful manor. But with all these little things came awkward next mornings where he wouldn’t look at you, claim to drink too much to remember what had happened the night before, and don’t even get started with the whole Mary situation. This man confuses you to no end with his wishy washy behavior. You sighed, was he wishy washy or were you just desperate to read into things? Maybe you just imagined his eyes lingering on your lips, maybe you took his touches too seriously. Maybe you wanted more from your relationship with him than he wanted. There was no maybe on that one, but you shook your head to yourself. You saw how Arthur loves a woman first hand, you were there every step of the way from the time he first met Mary until she rejected his proposal. That was the one night you had seen Arthur cry, and it was the most heartbreaking thing you’d ever seen in your life. So yes, you knew how Arthur loved and no, it was not intended for you.

You pushed yourself off the bench and into the crowded saloon. Your eyes searched for Arthur, but he wasn’t there. You were a little relieved, after so long you had forgotten how to hide how flustered he made you. You pulled the stolen stationary paper from your satchel and began to write.

Dear Arthur,

I have missed you also, as well as everyone else in the gang. Tell Mary-Beth I was elated to hear from her and hope all is well for her. Honestly Arthur, who hasn’t heard of Leviticus Cornwall these days? That surely was a mistake. I stayed in Blackwater for a couple of weeks in case you all came back but not only did you have wanted posters everywhere, the place was also crawling with bounty hunters. I heard some of them got Sean, I tried tracking him down but the trail went cold after a few days. After that, I was everywhere and nowhere. I survived off the land, really survived. I thought what we was doing as a gang was surviving but boy was I wrong. Having a group that size is a privilege you don’t know you have until it’s gone. With more and more bounty hunters popping up, I had to lay low. You’d be proud, Arthur I haven’t committed a crime worse than pickpocketing since we were separated. I’ve mostly just made money by hunting and fishing, I’ll pick up odd jobs where I can. For the most part it’s just been me and Ol’ Cow. He’s still fit as a fiddle, still wouldn’t trade him in for the world. Tell Marston I’m sorry to hear about his unfortunate face, maybe it will humble him up a bit. As far as Dutch goes, well maybe I shouldn’t go there as to keep conversation friendly. Don’t trust him Arthur, that man is a snake. I know he and Hosea raised you, raised us, but people change and not always for the best. Keep that in mind in your travels, and get the hell out of there the moment you notice anything fishy. You’re right, the world has changed and it isn’t so simple anymore. Civilization isn’t the cause of corruption, it’s the spawn of it. At the end of the day, there’s only one cause of corruption and that’s people. As for me, I’m currently camping out on Iron Bed Lake so I’m not far from Rhodes at all. I usually stop in the saloon in the evenings for a drink and some supper, that would be the easiest time to catch me. Maybe I’ll show you where camp is, your company is welcome anytime. I look forward to your company as always.

Yours, Y/N

You frowned at the ‘yours’. You always just signed, but it felt natural to mirror Arthur’s closing. As you folded the letter, you wondered when you would get to see him again. You pushed down the blossoming hope that it would be soon.

Arthur read the parcel just outside the post office, he told himself he didn’t want to risk getting caught but that didn’t explain the excitement he felt as he tore open the envelope. His heart felt heavy as he read your letter, you had lived so hard on your own and he had no idea you were even out there. It was hard for him to remember what it was like to be on his own before he met Dutch and Hosea. It had been so long, he honestly couldn’t recall. But, to live roughly you looked good, he thought. He smiled at the pages, he had forgotten the silly name you gave to your horse. It brought back the memory of the day you bought him from the stables. He spent two days trying to give you better names, what kind of name is Cow for a horse? He would ask. You would shrug as you patted his pink nose and say that it was a good name for a good horse and that was that. If anyone was more stubborn than him, it was you. He looked up at the sky as he finished the letter, the sun was already behind the trees. Perfect timing, he thought to himself as he whistled for his horse. The saloon wasn’t far at all, but Arthur wasn’t a patient man.

When he entered the saloon, his eyes darted across every face until they landed on a familiar black hat at the bar. He straightened himself and tugged at his vest self consciously, he wished he would’ve taken a bath first. He cleared his throat. “Ma’am.”

When you turned, Arthur was able to get a good look at you. Even through the humidity, your hair was still shiny and vibrant, the color hadn’t dulled a day since Blackwater. You had had a bath recently, your skin was clean and he could clearly see the freckles that dotted your cheeks. The sun had spotted new freckles since he had last seen you, now sitting around your lips and chin. Your sleeves were rolled up to reveal arms that were much more muscular than they were before. Even through the thin material of your shirt he could see the muscles in your back and shoulders. He tried to recall a more beautiful sight and was lost for words. When your lips curled into a smile, he felt a familiar heat in his cheeks. “Hello Arthur, have a seat.”

He nodded and obliged. Why was he so damn nervous all of a sudden? He started to speak and his mouth was terribly dry. He cleared his throat and waved over the bar tender. “So,” he stared at the ground as he spoke. “What kinda work you been doin’ in a run down town like this?”

You took a sip of your beer. “Mostly just handy work. Helped a feller patch his roof this mornin’.”

He smiled and his eyes flickered back to your muscular shoulders. “Well, ain’t you just a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, gotta do whatcha can to survive.” You smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Plus, I kinda like helpin’ people now.”

Arthur raised a brow towards you, “so you went from robbin’ and killin’ folks go helpin’ em around the house, huh?” He laughed. “Good on ya, ya got out.”

“Huh?”

He looked at you. “Ya got out, out of the outlaw game. Look at you now, a regular citizen.”

You frowned into your mug. “It weren’t my choice.”

“I’m sorry that wasn’t-“ he stuttered.

You sighed and gave him a smile. To him it looked terribly sad. “It’s okay, really. I know it ain’t your fault. I do miss it, more often than I don’t.”

“Why?”

“I guess I just miss havin’ a family. And people who care.”

“You can have a family outside the gang, ya know.” The bartender sat a beer in front of Arthur and he took a swig. “Hosea tried it for a few years.”

You barked a short laugh. “And who would have me? Look at me, I’m a beat up, rough nobody. Ain’t no man gonna want me.”

Arthur’s heart lurched, he fought the urge to put his hand on yours. Is this what he sounded like when he put himself down? It all sounded so ridiculous to him. “You don’t know that.” He said softly.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he looked at you. Your eyes were far away and a small smile was on your face. “I do, but thank you anyways.”

As evening shifted into night, one beer turned to two, which turned to five. The saloon was in full swing, every booth full of patrons and the saloon girls were fliting around like fireflies in July. A jolly tune was coming from the piano and the chaotic noise of drunk men but all you could hear was Arthur’s bubbling laughter. His cheeks were a bright red from the booze and he wore a lazy smile. He said something, but it was so slurred together in an incoherent mumble.

“What’d you say?”

He leaned in close to your ear and you felt his beard hair prickle against your skin. “I said, let’s get outta here.” His Breath was hot and you were glad he didn’t feel you tremble. You nodded and he took your hand and led you out into the street. The saloon was the only building with lights still on and the chaotic noise was muffled in the night. The crickets chirped as the two of you stumbled down Main Street.

Arthur still had your hand in his big palm, half dragging you along as you sang obnoxiously into the night. Arthur was carefully paying attention to the ground under him, but you were not. You stumbled over a rock and began to fall forward, but you were caught by two heavy hands on your waist. “Careful.” He laughed.

You giggled drunkenly and when you lifted your head to look at him, his face was inches from yours. Even with your vision spinning, you could Arthur’s eyes on your lips, when he met your eyes, there was something behind them you had never seen. After a moment, he cleared his throat and helped you to your feet. His hand lingered on your waist and you leaned into his shoulder as you smiled up to him, “thanks Artie.”

Arthur spurted and laughed heartily. “Artie?” He wipes a tear from his eye and laughed again. “Is that what yer callin’ me now?”

You laughed with him, the movement caused the two of you to sway. “Naw, I just thought it was cute.” Your finger came up and bopped him on the nose.

“You’re cute.” Arthur blurted. As soon as it left his lips he could’ve smacked himself. What a fool he was.

You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, “not as cute as you.”

Arthur’s vision was blurry but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He swallowed hard, this was too much. He cleared his throat. “Where’s your camp?” He looked around and almost lost his balance. “Wheres the horses?” He slurred.

You laughed and slumped against a near by bench. “Who knows?” You fell into a fit of drunken giddy giggles.

Arthur plopped down beside you and slunk an arm around your shoulders. He smiled to himself as you curled up against his chest. “I’ve missed you.” You mumbled.

Arthur couldn’t tell if the heat in his cheeks was from the booze anymore. “I...I missed you too.”

When you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, he swore he could see whole worlds reflecting back at him. “Wanna know a secret?” You whispered.

He gulped. “Sure.”

With the most straight face you could manage you said, “I’m going to throw up.”

And with the most grace and poise Arthur has ever seen in a drunk person, you stood up, turned away from him, and vomited. He rolled his eyes and stood shakily. He put a hand on your back-for your support and his- and pulled your hair back with the other. “S’okay,” he whispered. “I gotcha.”

You cleared your throat and wiped your mouth as you turned to Arthur. “I think” you slurred. “It’s time for night night.”

Arthur laughed and whistled for his horse. She must not have been far, she came around the corner immediately. Arthur used her as support as he helped you up and then pulled himself up clumsily. He almost pulled you down as he mounted and the two of you fell into another laughing fit after you helped him up. “Okay okay,” He said as he tried to contain his laughter. “Where you stayin’ at?”

You leaned back against him and pointed lazily. “Jus’ go that way for a minute, I’ll tell ya where to go.”

With your best attempts of directions, the two of you finally made it back to camp and there your loyal steed was, waiting at camp without you. “Son of a bitch.” You muttered. “I’m too drunk to set up a tent.”

Arthur pulled his bedroll from his horse. “Sky’s clear, it shouldn’t rain tonight. We should be fine sleepin’ under the stars.”

You hadn’t even unpacked your bedroll before tumbling to the ground and resting against an old log.

Arthur laughed, “you sure you don’t want somethin’ more comfortable than the ground?”

You didn’t hear him, you were out.

When you woke up the next morning, your head felt like it had been smashed against a rock. You groaned as you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Mornin’.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin and let out a small scream as you opened your eyes. When they focused on Arthur you groaned. “Jesus Arthur, you about gave me a heart attack. Ain’t used to havin’ other people around.”

He handed you a cup of coffee as you stretched. “Sorry bout that, didn’t want to wake ya.”

You scratched your head and closed your eyes as you sipped from your coffee. “Ugh, I feel like hell.”

Arthur chuckled. “Drink up, that should help. You should probably eat something too.”

You nodded and groaned in agreement as you stood up. “Christ,” You said as you walked over to check the nets. “How much did we drink last night? I lost count.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t count.”

As you pulled the net in, your arms ached in disagreement. Arthur stood up quickly, “need some help?”

You let go with one hand to do a shooing motion and went back to pulling it in. “I got it.”

The net was much more successful this morning, yielding three smallmouth bass and two largemouth bass. You smiled triumphantly. “Did someone say breakfast?”

You ate together in silence, Arthur contemplated bringing you back to camp, how mad could Dutch really get? You had something different on your mind. Through your hungover haze, little flashes were coming back. Arthur holding your hand, the way his lips brushed your ear, the way his beard felt against your skin, his arm around your waist. His presence was unearthing so many buried emotions it was starting to get overwhelming. He was the first to speak. “Do you plan on doin’ this forever?”

“Doin’ what?” You turned to look at him and he was staring at the ground.

He turned to you. “Doin’ this, livin’ on your own. Are you not lonely?”

You frowned. “Course I get lonely, but where else am I gonna go?”

“Come with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He stood. “Come back to camp, come back to the gang! We all miss you like crazy, and Dutch, well Dutch can deal with it.” He took your hands in his and pulled you up from the ground so quickly you almost lost your balance. His gaze was so intense on you you had to look away.

“Arthur, Dutch ain’t gonna just let me waltz back in. And like I said, I don’t trust that man. I can’t trust him farther than I can throw him and as much as I-“ you caught yourself as sighed. “As much as I...care about you-about all of you, I can’t trust that man with my safety and well-being.”

“Trust me then.” You looked up at him and he caught your cheek in his hand. “Trust me with your safety and your well-being. Let me take care of you.”

Your chest seized and it was hard to breathe. “Arthur I...”

He suddenly looked sad and pulled away. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“

You cut him off as he began to turn away by grabbing his face and pulling it down to yours. Your lips were on his and before he could react, they were gone. You couldn’t look up at his face, you couldn’t handle the rejection. “Arthur, I care about you entirely too much for my own good. I need to go.”

Arthur was frozen in shock, he could still feel the ghost of your lips on his. As you turned to your horse, he felt the panic slip in, he lost you once and he didn’t want to lose you again. He caught your wrist and when you turned to look at him he looked desperate, afraid, and devistatingly handsome. “Don’t go. Don’t make me go without you again, I ain’t strong enough. You don’t gotta come back with me, just stay with me.”

“I...oh Arthur, you know I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He wrapped his big arms around your waist and it sent butterflies to your stomach. You wrapped your arms around him and sighed. “What are ya gonna tell Dutch?”

He buried his face into your neck and you felt him inhale. “I ain’t gotta tell him a thing.”

You rolled your eyes and relaxed in his embrace. “You silly, silly man.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur x reader #van der linde gang #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic #request #fluff

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delioncrt · 4 years

Text

𝖎 𝖓 𝖙 𝖗 𝖔 .

𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞… lestat de lioncourt was known as the bold & animated lord with a reputation for being a stuart townsend doppelganger . but now , under the stress of the war on the horizon , the natural born villain original vampire has become widely known for being rather melodramatic & over-indulgent . let’s see how long the villeneuve native will last during this war . after all they’re only forty three / over one thousand years old . + he/him & cis male , the vampire chronicles.

hello hello! my name is ana, i’m 22 and i bring you my dramatic, over-indulgent gay vampire lestat!! i was here before (very shortly) as chiasa, but i was struggling for muse and really wanted to bring in lestat, so i’ve been working on him for a little while now and i’m so excited to finally be able to play him :’)

i have a plots page up, but it’s a REALLY rough draft right now and i plan on adding more depth/a lot more species related plots but i’m also open to plotting anything really! below the cut, i’m going to paste lestats bio but be warned it is very very VERY longs and i need to update it lmao i’ll also put some little tidbits of info to help you get to know him~

lestat is an original vampire, meaning he was changed by spell and not blood transfer

he loves anything theatre related, music related, and he would die for the aesthetic lmao

very over indulgent, he prefers his meals in the form of pretty boyes and the occasional fae sdhfusdj

he’s a lonely bitch who likes to turn others so he can have companions so if you’re ever down to have your character turned *fingerguns*

basically the embodiment of “i’m baby, give me attention”

dsjufsd my brain is dead right now but u get the gift

i am the vampire lestat.

born the seventh son, the youngest of three to survive into manhood. my mother was a literate noblewoman and my father a blind marquis, though i would be left with no prospects. despite my family’s title, near all our wealth had been used up and my eldest brother augustin was the rightful heir to all that we still possessed. as a boy, my father’s castle, the estate, and the nearby village were my universe. the rest of the world around me was dim and old fashioned. i was born restless, the dreamer, the angry one, the complainer. my father and brothers resented me because i was not like them; i didn’t sit around and reminisce on old wars, i didn’t spend all day at my father’s side playing chess, and history had no meaning to me.

do not be fooled though, i was far from idle or feckless. i was the only lord near the village who could ride a horse and shoot a rifle at the same time; it was my duty to hunt for my family. i brought in the pheasant, the venison, and the trout from the mountain streams on easy days. on harder days, it was packs of wolves that threatened the people in the village. it was a noble occupation, hunting one’s ancestral lands, and i alone had the right to do it. the richest of aristocrats couldn’t lift their guns in my forest, but then again, they didn’t have to. they had money.

it was the winter of my twenty-first year, i went out alone on horseback to kill a pack of wolves. it was the worst winter that i could remember, and i do remember, all too vividly. the snow all over those mountains, the wolves that were frightening the villagers and stealing my sheep. on that cold morning in january, i armed myself with a flintlock rifle, a hunting musket, my father’s sword, and an spikes mace that hung on the wall of our old armory. with my weapons, i set off and rode an hour up into the slopes until i reached a valley and heard the first howling.

i had killed eight wolves that morning. my mastiffs had not survived the attack, and i had to put my mare down as she was suffering from her injuries. i still remember every moment of the battle, the rattling cry she let out as she went down, the wolves that closed in on me and nearly took my life until i drew my father’s sword, and i remember sputtering sickly and falling to my knees at the sight of my dogs. it took me nearly two hours with a wolf over my shoulder to trek homeward. whatever i had felt when i was fighting those wolves went on in my mind even as i walked, when i stumbled and fell, something in me hardened and became worse.

by the time I reached the castle gates, i think i was not lestat, i was someone else altogether. my brothers did not believe me when i had shared of my story, and the next thing i remember, i was lying in my room. i didn’t have the dogs in bed with me as always in winter because the dogs were dead, and though there was no fire lighted, i climbed, filthy and bloody under the covers and went into a deep sleep. i stayed there for days.

but, you don’t really want to hear the sad ramblings of an old mans human life, do you? of course not, you want to know of how i came to receive the dark gift, don’t you? tut tut, so impatient.

first, you must know that it began around the turn of the 11th century. i was no longer living in villeneuve with my family, my mother had grown ill. she came to me in the night, begging me to take what valuables she had and escape the castle. she told me to pack my belongings and to leave out while the kingdom slept and to run off far away, somewhere where i could be content. unlike my relationship with my father, my mother understood me. she could not bare the idea of dying and leaving her son stuck in a castle he would never call home.

the thought of leaving her behind, knowing those were likely to be my last moments with her left an emptiness in my chest. despite the lonely ache, i followed her orders and left off into the night with what she’d given me, never to return.

in that time, i had gotten involved in the theatre scene. bouncing from kingdom to kingdom, my love for the stage only grew exponentially the longer i spent on it. i had landed a role as leilo, the young lover to a woman named isabella. my presence on stage was animated, i became my character and by the end of it all, they would nearly have to drag me from the stage as the crowd clapped. it had become my life, and for the first time, i was happy.

it was during my time on stage that i’d met my first love, nicolas. he was beautiful, standing about about five foot ten, with long dark hair and warm clear skin you couldn’t help but want to touch. he was a young violinist who had come from villeneuve himself and had introduced himself to me after recognizing my face during a show. he had asked me to tell him the story of how i’d earned the title of wolf killer, and in return, i asked him about his experiences in the kingdoms i’d yet to explore. we drank all night and shared our tales, our secrets, and our thoughts that night, and then we did it again and again near every night after that. he had magic in his fingers when he played his instrument, the rich melodies were the definition of elegance; graceful, serene, and breathtaking. he often played me to sleep at night when i was at my most somber. he was my closest companion.

that only made it so much more difficult to cope when i lost him. he was a lovely man, one i couldn’t have spent the very rest of my life with, and he deserved a peaceful death. he deserved better.

death did not care for fairness, though. it came in like a harsh storm, destroying and taking away what it wanted selfishly. his death was bloody, and gruesome, the kind of death only spoken of in hushed whispers. how ironic it was, the man who’d come to love the wolfkiller, killed by a wolf. that’s what the people in the kingdom had called it, at least. i knew better though, that beast was nothing like the wolves i’d fought all those years ago. this creature was larger, far more feral and hostile. in the light of the full moon, i could see that it had yellow eyes and sharp fangs protruding from its snout. it was stronger than any wolf i’d experienced in my life, like it had the strength of a supernatural being.

it was the first time in my life that another creature had truly frightened me. it shook me to my very core, and to this day, i only remember the look in its eyes and how it made me run and leave behind the only man i had ever loved.

i mourned for weeks in that forest, weeping and wailing out into the night. i begged and begged for that creature to return, to kill me, until my voice was hoarse and a strained hush. i did not eat, sleep, or move from the forest floor. by the time anyone had found me, all the muscle had gone from my body, my bones protruded from my pale, sickly skin, and my eyes had sunken in so deep that one might assume i was nothing but a skeleton.

i don’t remember much from that night, i only remember the words of the witch who had stumbled upon my body, and the spell that lead me into my newfound immortal life.

“poor little man, frail and broken in the dirt, begging for death. that isn’t what you truly want though, is it? no, you want revenge. you need it. how will you avenge your lover like this? a sad bag of bones, unable to lift his own body, such a depressing sight. i can make you better, lestat. i can gift you power, strength, and everlasting life. tell me, boy, is that what you desire? is that what you need? use your words, tell me yes, and i will give you everything you need to be great.”

yes.

#tales.intro #⁎ ° . ☆ ◞ ( ꜱʏᴍᴘᴀᴛʜʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇ��ɪʟ ! 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔 )#tw: blood #tw: animal death #tw: animal harm #tw: death

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katedrakeohd · 5 years

Text

My One Handsome Devil Drake and Kate

Fluffy Alphabet A - K here.

FLUFFY ALPHABET

continued L to Z

...

L - Love (How did they first say those three words)

The day after they finally consummated their new relationship in New York, Drake couldn't help himself and had to tell Kate he loved her. And of course for Kate the feeling was mutual. ❤

M - Movies ( What kinds of movies do they watch together? Is it a regular Netflix ritual?)

Kate loves movie dates with Drake. They usually go see action movies because he is such a Marvel fan. Kate doesn't mind because for every action movie they see on a date she chooses a romantic comedy or dramatic thriller for them to watch at home together in private on Netflix.

N - Nicknames (Things they call eachother)

Kate likes to call Drake her Ducky or HoneyDuck, or Lovey, Sweetie or Honey.

Drake still calls Kate by her last name from time to time to tease her, but otherwise he saves the nicknames for their private moments. He likes to call her Lovey, Beautiful, Honey and when he's had too much to drink he'll sometimes call her KatieBear.

O - One (tell us about the moment they realized they were the one)

For Kate the enigmatic and snarky Drake Walker was a thorn in her side and the apple of her eye from the moment he came to her rescue on derby day. She knew then that despite his gruff nature he was really a nice guy underneath it all.

Drake tried to hide his feelings for Kate during the social season, but everytime she'd smile at him he felt warm all over. When they kissed the night of the Coronation and the thought of her choosing to be with King Nicholas crossed his mind, he knew it would break his heart.

P – Pizza (What is their favourite food to eat together?)

Breakfast, because it means they're still in bed naked and have ordered it to share in their room. If they have to make an appearance at a group breakfast at the Palace they're usually late.

Q – Quit (Do they break up? Almost break up? What happened?)

Not a chance. They've been through too much together to give up now.

R – Rainy Days (How do they comfort each other on dark days?)

Drake has been known to drown his sorrows and anger in a bottle of whiskey, usually regretting it the next day. Since he and Kate have gotten together though she has encouraged him to talk to her instead of seeking out the numbing effects of alcohol. Kate has made him promise that if he is going to drink when he's emotional that he doesn't do it alone.

Drake helps Kate get over her fear of thunderstorms by distracting her with love and affection, encouraging her to lean on him when she feels scared.

S - Soft (something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

Kate loves running her fingers through Drake's thick dark hair, and Drake really loves it when she does it too. To him it's totally hypnotizing and relaxing, while Kate enjoys how his hair feels as it runs through her fingers.

Kate becomes total putty in Drake's hands when he whispers in her ear and asks her what she wants from him.

T - Texting (Do they text each other a lot? What do they talk about?)

When Kate was sent back to New York following the Coronation she immediately missed all of her Cordonian friends. When she reached out in a message, Drake was the first one to respond. While they were separated they flirted back and forth through messages, exchanging photos. Kate missed Drake so much but his messages helped her feel better. She didn't know he was secretly traveling to New York to be with her. ❤

U - Unique (Tell us about some of their odd habits that surprise the other.)

Kate was pleasantly surprised that Drake always sleeps naked, not that she minds.

V - Vanity (Something they're proud of in themselves and their partner)

Drake was an athlete in school and works hard to maintain his muscled physique and keep his skills sharp.

Kate admires his dedication and totally appreciates that he likes to take care of himself. Kate isn't nearly as vain in looking after her appearance, but Drake is fine with that and thinks she's beautiful as she is.

W - Wedding (Tell us about their wedding, if they've gotten that far.)

Kate and Drake are engaged to be married but haven't really talked about what kind of ceremony they want to have yet.

X - eX that out (Something they hate about the other)

Kate hates that Drake can be impulsive and do things without thinking, not realizing how it affects other people. His anger issues feed off of this impulsive behavior too.

Drake can't bring himself to hate anything about Kate, because he knows she's helping him be a better person.

Y- YouTube (What are they like online?)

Drake doesn't have a very large online footprint. He only uses Facebook for the Messenger, and uses Twitter to keep up with his favorite sports teams and celebrities. He's not much of a photo taker and doesn't feel the need to share his personal stuff on Instagram. He's not a selfie kind of guy and though he has Snapchat he uses it sparingly.

Kate is all over social media, especially since the Tariq scandal broke. She's worried that her relationship with Drake is going to be affected and they'll lose any kind of privacy. Being recognized and having fans also means there are people who resent her celebrity status and hate on her for some reason.

Z - Zoo (Are they into animals? Do they want pets? What kind?)

Drake grew up in the Palace and didn't really have house pets. He worked in the stables and has his own horse that was born from breeding stock from his family's ranch in Texas. Kate had a dog when she was a small child but it ran away and hasn't had a small pet since. She loves animals though and has a horse of her own in the royal stables that was gifted to her by King Nicholas.

---

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dreamhimcloser · 4 years

Text

Aeon - JiKook

Word Count: 9.5k words Rating: PG-13 Summary: The Rat was the first in Buddha’s race, which by timeless standards should mean that your family will be much more looked up to than they actually are. It's a damn race after all, the winner gets the chicken dinner, right? Wrong. Genre: Fluff-ish? Also, Seokjin is a diva Note: I’m not really back from Hiatus, that’s important to say. The exchange was fucking amazing and I need time to find myself at home again, but this thing has been sitting on my computer for a year now and I felt inspired, so I gave it life. The ending is not really edited because I cringed at myself. It’s been in my head for a while, hope you guys will like it♥

Your frustration with the day began right in the entrance to your university. You could already feel the signs of the power struggle in the air, along with the countless oblivious students walking right through it as they go about their day. You didn't know if you were lucky for being aware, feeling the signs and treading your steps. Those who belonged to the cycle of the Zodiac were pretty rare, and you were in the bottom of that food chain.

As the ancient story goes, Buddha wanted to hold a race for his departure from Earth. It's ridiculous that this is the beginning of the biggest pain in your life in the present. He invited 12 animals to compete in said race, and they were given one year in the cycle by the order of their arrival.

The Rat was the first, which by timeless standards should mean that your family will be much more looked up to than they actually are. It's a damn race after all, the winner gets the chicken dinner, right? Nah. The Rat was invited by the Cat but didn't wake him up in the morning of the race. It got too excited about being the smallest animal to be invited into such a big event, and completely forgot about his careless friend. That already marked you as a traitor by relations.

If that's not enough bad juju by itself, the Rat was aware of the shortness of his feet and probability in winning the race, so he took advantage of the Ox's gullible personality and rode on his head. A simple jump from his head to the finish line brought the Rat his sweet victory and his successors' despair.

Coming first means shit if all of this is considered.

That's why most people has no idea why some avoid you like a plague. You weren't sure how they'll react knowing this avoidance comes from the ancient sins of one Rat.

Through the cycles, the other animals competed over who hates the Rat decedents most, though you'd think they'd never want to race again after the first time. The Cat was a prominent contester, but the cats in your life didn't treat you badly. Jooheon gave you the same dimpled grin he offers every living being, and even some florals. Hoseok sent you his notes when you were down with the flu for a month without you even having to ask.

For a reason not quite known to you, your enemy during this cycle was the Horse. Most potently shown in your relations to one Park Jimin. He's a silver Horse, which is rare within their kind and higher-ranked. There were other Horses in your university but they reserved their behavior to disturbed looks and nothing more, which didn't really bother you.

It's not that Park Jimin was evil to you or anything, you've never seen him anything but kind to anyone he interacts with. The problem came from the one "protecting" him from you. Since he's a Horse you never tried to actively speak to him but that damn dog, Jeon Jungkook, detested your presence even if you were simply minding your own business on the other side of the room. Even Kim Taehyung stood between you a few times, and he's a Dragon – usually flashy personalities and not that much of a need to handle the animal politics. He was accepting of you if Jimin wasn't in the room though, so you figured it was Jungkook moving him as a piece to have something else protecting poor little Jimin from you.

As always, both pairs of eyes immediately set on you as you walked through the door, while Jimin kept chatting with Hoseok as if he didn't feel the mood shift. Taehyung offered you a small smile, but turned back to the conversation without much else. Jungkook gave you nothing but daggers. The conversation they took part in was loud as they always were, and per usual getting louder when Seokjin walked into the room, exchanging high-fives with the other four like a weird fucking ceremony before he came to sit with you.

Somehow Seokjin, the Snake that rode on the Horse's leg and pushed the Horse to the seventh animal in line, wasn't too dangerous to be around Jimin.

"What's up, loser?" Seokjin flopped down next to you, tossing a small, peach-flavored milk carton onto your lap.

You eyed the milk. "I really don’t get why I'm the only one turning them hostile when I walk into a room."

"You should try being this handsome," he replied with a smirk, placing his thumb and index finger in a V sign at this chin. You narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to smack his hand right into his face.

Your argument was stopped short with the teacher walking in with a shit-eating grin. This poetry class was supposed to be easy, but as you soon learned looks can be deceiving. The teacher seemed to have a special, warm place in his heart for keeping his students at the edge of their seats at terrible peril. He didn't even try hiding how much he enjoyed making his poor students suffer.

And what greater suffering he could bring than a partnered poem analysis paper, already troublesome by itself before he added in the fact he chose the pairs instead of giving students that liberty. That asshole knew how anti-social you were, and the groans coming from the collective of students just made him smile wider.

"Why can't we choose though?" Jungkook complained, his arm wrapped around Jimin's chair. It was easy to guess who his preferred partner would be, and a short laugh from the professor showed he knew the answer.

"Because I paired the weak with the strong," The professor waved his papers at Jungkook, "To give some of you imagination-less people a standing chance to pass my class. Some of you, Jungkook, are in the gray zone.

The chuckles made Jungkook turn sharply back, his eyes locking with yours for a split second though you never made a sound.

"I hope you get Jungkook," Seokjin whispered to you, opening the abandoned milk carton and handing it back to you. "He will probably kill you if he spends too much time with you."

"Since when are fucking Dogs my enemies?"

Just as the words left your mouth ended, your name was called. The professor paused for a second that made you hold your breath – he wouldn't be as evil as to pair you with Jungkook, right? The answer, to your great despair, was worse. The name called after yours was Park Jimin.

"What the fuck?" Jungkook exclaimed, making Jimin jump a little at his side.

The professor looked at Jungkook like he just won the lottery. His eyes were twinkling, he could barely hold himself together from how giddy he was. The pairing in itself was logical, Jimin's weak points fit your strong points and vice versa, but it was clear as day from the mere atmosphere in the room that working together wasn't an option. The professor turned to look at Jimin, "Do you have a problem with this?"

"No," Jimin answered simply, making Jungkook's head snap to him.

The professor turned to you, and before he could open his mouth again you shook your head. You knew by instinct that if you'll ask to switch partners he'd probably give you Jungkook, and at least Jimin was able to be civil. It could only be worse for you.

"Great, so it's decided," The professor determined before going forth with his list. Their group started to exchange whispers right under the professor's nose, but he was in too good spirits to call them out for it. Their small, frantic voices seemed to be music to his ears.

"Wow, I jinxed you didn't I," Seokjin gasped but didn't sound sorry in the least. "Jungkook looks like he's about to have a stroke."

You signed, "I bet he's trying to find a way to make me disappear before I get to exchange one word with Jimin."

Your phone vibrated on your thigh, making you slide your headphones off. "Did you text me?"

"No," Seokjin replied with a bored voice. You hit pause on the video you were watching, though you really wanted to know if the McDonalds worker noticed the twins switching on him as he turned away for a second. Another vibration came though before you pressed the unknown number.

hey its jimin 03:23

You turned to Seokjin with wide eyes, which he didn't notice for a few moments. Words failed you so you made a small sound that turned his attention away from his phone. "Ah, did he text you already?" You nodded. "That was fast, I literally just gave him the number. I thought it'd take him longer to fend Jungkook off before texting you."

"Couldn't you warn me?"

"And miss that?" He pointed at your face with a pleased devil-smile. "Never."

You turned back to your phone, wondering why the hell your best friend is so annoying. You could choose better, and somehow this hate-love relationship is what kept you going. At rare times he was actually a good friend, so maybe you saw through the douche to the darling within. Like, deep within.

Hey 03:26

Smooth.

im gonna cut to it my rents r prejudice n doesnt wnt me alone w/u

so is it ql if we do da project in my house? 03:27

Sure. When? 03:27

im sorry. 03:28

His apology made you frown. It didn't come as a surprise to you that his parents wouldn't want their silver son meeting a Rat in their natural habitat. It's almost 2020 and there are still a lot of… opinions on what new ways the Rats found to mislead the other animals. You could offer the library as a neutral spot, but you didn't know if Jimin even knew where it is.

saturday? 6 ish? 7 ish? wn ure comfortable ish? 03:29

You couldn't help but chuckle at the swarming messages. You always saw Jimin texted real fast and half-finished sentences, but being on the receiving end of that was a brand new experience.

6-ish sounds good. Send me your address, I'll be there 03:30

He sent it, and you had no idea where it was. A quick look at the map revealed that he, in fact, lives in the middle of a forest and it shouldn't have surprised you this much. Silver Horses were known to crave the wild, not at all city creatures. That would stand against the fact they moved to Seoul from Busan, but you guessed education was stronger than their will to be free.

"We're meeting on Saturday," You informed Seokjin, who hummed as a distracted response. "Save me some food."

"As if Jimin will let you leave his house without feeding you," Seokjin laid his phone in front of him, finally focusing on you. "You clearly don’t know him."

"His loyal watch-dog makes sure of that," You rolled your eyes. "Did you know he lives in the woods?"

"Of course, I've been to his house before."

"Of course you were."

"You'll like it, it's a really big house, whole wall made of glass like the forest is inside. Also, Jimin's bed is really comfortable. Not that you'll get to try it unless you'll be a good girl."

You contemplated throwing your mouse at him. "We're doing a project and then our lives will go back to being absolutely separate. His parents won't even allow him the option of being near me where they can't control, you think his bed would be good?"

"His bed is good."

Seokjin offered to drive you there, claiming that the road is too complicated for you to navigate though. He listened to your whole rant about how you're great with directions as he fiddled with his keys. In the end he didn't leave you much choice and after seeing how complicated it actually was, you were kind of grateful. The forest really wasn't forgiving for first time arrivers. Seokjin informed you that he also had to have help the first time he visited, so you felt better about yourself.

Seokjin stopped in front of the house, giving you a knowing smile, "Now you're glad you agreed, right?"

"Wow yes thank you," you exhaled in one breathe, sliding out of the car with your bag in hand. "You're the best."

"What else is new?" Seokjin obnoxiously winked right before he drove off. He almost drove right on your foot, but you assumed the swag in the action was worth it for him. Fucking Snakes.

The front door seemed to loom over you, warning you of where you're headed. Each Zodiac made their own aura around their homes, and this one was new to you and quite overwhelming. You never got to measure the Horse aura before since all the Horses steered clear of you, getting it so strongly at once wasn't exactly welcoming. It's a good thing Horses were prideful people, so logically you knew there is no risk in stepping inside.

Keeping that idea in your head, you rang the doorbell, almost cringing at the choir of bird sounds that announced your presence. Of course Horses would have chippering birds as their doorbell. You barely managed not to roll your eyes as the door opened.

"It's you."

Jungkook gave you a bored look, leaning against the door he opened. He looked you up and down, maybe to be intimidating. You found it strangely amusing.

"Jimin is at dance practice."

"Did I get the time wrong?" You quickly pulled out your phone with the intention of checking Jimin's message. "I thought – "

"You didn't," Jungkook cut you off. "He was supposed to be here."

You stared, not sure how to progress from here. Jungkook seemed to be perfectly fine with letting you wait outside until Jimin came back and he was forced to treat you well. You weren't sure what he was going to do, but waiting awkwardly felt terrible.

Jungkook seemed to sense the struggle as he moved aside with a sigh, "Come in, I guess."

"Thank you," You side-stepped him, bending down to take your shoes off before entering farther. Jungkook gave you a quick look, walking to the end of the corridor, where he stopped to wait for you.

You tried to be subtle as you watched his actions, wondering if he really did hate you. With Jimin not being the room he seemed more calm around you, acting more like he just wasn't sure how to act rather than despising you. You knew the rumors about Rats didn't form a good image, and the fact that you're pretty rare is not helping. When people met you for the first time they were sure they already know everything you're about and had no intention to really get to know you as a person, not a zodiac reference.

"You can wait in the living room," Jungkook said the moment you started walking his way. The light coming from the end of hallway already hinted where the glass wall that Seokjin was talking about was, but you didn't quite expect the spectacle that was revealed to you. The last rays of sun filtered through many leaves, throwing calm shadows over the cream color-themed living room. Everything looked so polished and expensive, you could easily see Jimin in this space. You've never seen his parents so they were face-less figures in the image in your head, but they were loving and kind, like their son.

Well, to non-Rats, anyways.

Jungkook watched you, averting his gaze only when you turned to look back. He looked almost bashful as he took a sit on one of the couches, slipping out of his slippers and placing his feet on the edge of the coffee table. He looked less elegant than Jimin, but somehow Jungkook's Dog aura was also present in this space, as if he's a part of it. Thinking back, you've never heard Seokjin going to Jungkook's place or meeting Jungkook's parents. It made you wonder.

You took your seat on the same sofa, but in a safe distance from him. You awkwardly moved your attention to your socks, wondering if you should have chosen more presentable socks than the Line Friends ones you were currently wearing. You glanced at Jungkook to find him checking his phone, a small smile adorning his features. This could be the first time you saw him actually smiling, as you were usually watching their group from behind. It didn't look bad on him, this look. It was no secret that he was handsome, making a perfect visual trio with Jimin and Taehyung. You just never got to see it like other people did.

He glanced your way, finding your attention is on him made both of you embarrassed. You were used to watching people, your status as a Rat made you learn that observing people from a far would keep you safe from getting hurt. You got good at reading people, and Jungkook didn't seem like much of a challenge. He was sitting so comfortably, he must have been a household member, if not living here. Which would probably be a safe bet.

"Are you waiting for Jimin too?"

Jungkook's eyes darted to you and back to his screen. "Sort of."

"Um," You started, not knowing if you should actually ask this. He was obviously listening to you, though he wasn't looking your way. "I was wondering, do you live here?"

That caught him off guard. You could clearly see the Dog in his reaction, his eyes now trained at you with a soft wonder in them. Dogs were people of instincts, not calculating situations like you. You could tell that you were right, but something about his reaction made you feel like you spoke too soon, trying to be friendly with someone who is not really willing. You were somehow intrigued by him, a fact that wasn't surprising as all the Rats you knew were attracted to Dogs.

Jungkook was still looking at you though a few moments passed. Your anxiety wasn't liking that, making you defuse the situation. "None of my business, never mind. Sorry for asking."

Jungkook frowned. You chose to look at your socks again, so you couldn't judge the wheels moving in his head. Before he could settle on a choice of what to do with your question, his phone buzzed. Quick tapping sounds filled the silence before he announced, "He's on his way now."

"Great. You know, you don't have to wait with me if you have other things to do," You offered, wiggling your toes in the fluffy carpet. "I won't move from here."

"Nah, it's fine," he answered in a casual voice, which you've never heard from him before. You chanced looking at him and his eyes were already trained on you, but they weren't hostile. He looked like he was contemplating, and quickly a decision was made, "You're more polite than I thought you'd be."

You blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Jungkook responded truthfully, ignoring another buzzing of his phone in favor of holding your gaze.

You were having trouble processing where this conversation is going, his easy look showing that he didn't quite have a clue either. It just wasn't anxious for him to be in this position. "Well, I'm glad to prove you wrong, I guess."

Even looking at him, you weren't quite certain what was going through his head. A part of you wondered if the attraction between Rats and Dogs was mutual, and having no other presences around made it easier to sense each other's auras. Maybe he was experiencing something new with you as well.

Maybe he reached out to you with that, and you should try as well. "I know the Rat's image is strong, but I'm honestly not a bad person. I have no intention of harming or tricking anyone."

"I figured, otherwise Seokjin wouldn't be so fond of you," Jungkook lifted his legs, folding them beneath him on the couch. "Actually, he asked me to be nice to you."

"Is that why you're trying to have a conversation?" You chuckled, but it stopped soon when you saw the strange look he gave you. Your mind provided a question that you knew you had no time to linger on, but you had to speak to Seokjin about what he told Jungkook.

"Sort of. He said that if I'll actually try not to push you away I'll see you're actually really good, better than him. Just more guarded."

"Seokjin said something nice about me? How uncharacteristic for him."

Jungkook made an amused sound, and you're ashamed to say it felt like a small victory. "He insisted enough for me to pay attention."

You nodded, not sure what else to say. You did make a mental note to thank Seokjin later. He jokes around a lot and it's usually in your expense, but he really does care about you. He must have known how nervous this made you and tried to make it easier. Being the middleman, he knows you and them well enough to be able to bridge temporarily until you could be civil with Jungkook, and maybe even complete this assignment without too much of a fight.

Jungkook looked like he had something else to say, but the soft sound of the opening front door, followed by Jimin announcing that he's home, stopped him. Instead he chose to push to his feet and walk to the hallway.

"You've been nice?" Jimin tapped on Jungkook's chest, a wide smile on his face. His smile never wavered when he looked at you, confidently walking towards you. "Sorry for being late, dance kinda makes me forget about time."

You didn't miss the slight tension that resided in Jungkook's shoulders as Jimin neared you, but he said nothing even when Jimin sat right next to you, dropping his bag at his feet. You've never been this close to him, but just looking at him you knew Jimin would smell amazing – you just didn't know how good it'll be. The scent that came off of him reminded you of the freshness of nature, like he just galloped through the woods like the Horse he is.

It was quite a nice image.

"It's okay," you reassured him, snapping out of your thoughts. "I didn't have to wait long."

Jimin leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Was he really nice to you, though?"

You nodded, eyes widening at how close he was. His skin was amazing, his eyes shining at you with pure happiness and amusement. He turned to Jungkook and they looked at each other for a few moments. You didn't know what it meant, but Jungkook seemed to catch on, walking back to the couch just to get his phone back. "I'll be upstairs."

You felt like maybe this decision answered your earlier question, but there is no way to know for sure as Jungkook disappeared up the wide staircase at the far end of the space. His departure left you alone with Jimin, whose attention came back to you.

"Is it okay if we stay here? My room is a mess," Jimin watched your face as you nodded. He seemed content with your answer, pulling the one notebook he used for every subject you shared together. Not that you've been keeping tabs, but yeah, you knew that.

You pulled out your supplies as well, feeling very conscious of the amount of attention you're getting. Maybe that's why people who spoke to Jimin alone were a blushing mess, being around him was like being under a spotlight, with absolutely no judgement attached. It's like he just genuinely enjoyed focusing on you.

"The prof was smart putting us together, I'm pretty bad at poetry," Jimin announced as he flicked through his notebook to find an empty page. "I just don't get hidden meanings and feet and stuff. But you've always been good, I still remember that poem you wrote about the sky."

You blinked at him, taken aback. You wrote remembered the poem was well, it was due in your first class. First year, first semester, before you thought Jimin ever noticed your existence. He seemed amused at the surprise in your face, finally settling on a page and leaning back on the couch. You followed, though a lot less comfortable than him. You decided there's no possible answer to what he told you and instead began pitching ideas for your analysis. You were given a poem that you read five times before meeting up with Seokjin, so you had a pretty good idea what you wanted to focus on. Jimin looked at you with an ever-present smile, drinking in all you had to tell him. He wasn't embarrassed to ask you questions, even if he was asking about the most basic things. You worked hard to not make him feel like it's too basic to be confused about at this point, just to keep him cheerful and excited to learn.

Somehow you felt like he really was learning from you, as minutes ticked by and he used the new information you've given him. It was obviously his weak subject, but he seemed to find your knowledge and merge it with his joy to find a good middle that allowed you to work him like dough. The idea you came up with seemed solid, Jimin adding his own, smaller ideas to give it a better structure. Working with him was easy, you bounced ideas off of each other, Jimin allowed himself to joke around with you, and the atmosphere stayed light. Before you noticed, hours went by and you were sitting more comfortably, Jimin's calm acceptance made you feel almost welcome in his home.

Jimin giggled at one of your ideas as he allowed his notebook to fall into his lap, giving up on doing more work in favor of conversation. "Honestly when you told that prof he was wrong I almost laughed right in his face. I'm closer, so I would've probably gotten kicked out of the class too."

"He said frogs are the symbol of freedom!" You defended yourself, bringing your own notebook to lie against your chest. "I couldn't just let this nonsense go."

"I know you couldn't," Jimin leaned his head against the sofa, eyeing you with a smile. "I noticed you're not shy to say what you wanna."

"You noticed?" You shifted, bringing your legs up between your body and Jimin's, leaning your head the way he did.

Jimin hummed, looking at your legs before returning to you. "Maybe I don't look like it, but I'm pretty observant. And being a Rat, you were interesting to me."

You willed your face not to blush, deeming it too embarrassing. "You wanted to watch the enemy?"

"I wanted to watch the possible friend," Jimin corrected with not a bit of shame. "I don't believe in that Zodiac enemy stuff, it's stupid to judge for something that was done millions of years ago. The fact is you've never been not nice to anyone who didn't deserve it. You're frank and your thoughts are heard, but there's nothing wrong about that. I think you're really funny, and nice, and a good person to be around."

You found no words to reply with, so you simply stared at him. Your lack of response didn't matter to Jimin as he leaned closer, the same amused glitter in his eye. "I'm glad I get to see I'm right."

"Ah," Jungkook's voice came from the stairs, making both of you jump a little farther away from each other. You looked at the newcomer in alarm, expecting him to explode at you for even daring to come so close to Jimin. His eyes were trained on you and he seemed conflicted, but when they moved to Jimin they softened immediately. You noticed Jimin had this kind of effect on him, like he was easily softening Jungkook's rough edges.

"I'm kind of hungry, what are we ordering?" Was his chosen response. Jimin didn't miss a beat in naming a restaurant that you weren’t familiar with. Jungkook slurped and rolled his eyes but didn't argue, which lead you to believe this response was quite popular with Jimin.

"Is there anything you can't eat?" You turned to confirm that Jimin was talking to you, shaking your head as a response. You remembered Seokjin being clear on Jimin liking to feed people, so you weren't really surprised when it came true right before you.

When Jungkook was busy ordering the food, Jimin declared that "study time is over". He turned the TV on and flicked through Netflix, asking for your opinion on which movie to watch. "I'd ask Jungkook but he'd probably say a Marvel movie," Jimin giggled, flicking past another rom-com.

"I like Marvel," you commented.

"I know, Spiderman is your phone background," you snapped your head in his direction just to catch his victorious smile. "Observant, I told you."

"Marvel movies are great, you're not wrong," Jungkook affirmed, throwing himself on Jimin's other side.

"But we can watch something else once in a while," Jimin whined, throwing one of his legs across Jungkook's, who naturally moved his hand to rest on Jimin's thigh, close to his knee. You felt Jimin's eyes on you, which told you he noticed you saw but didn't move Jungkook's hand away. You felt like it was a hint, but the situation made you so embarrassed you refused to think about it.

"How about this?" Jimin paused on a movie starring Ryan Reynolds, which you agreed to immediately. Again, your reaction was not missed by the others. Jimin didn't wait for Jungkook's approval to start the movie, settling against the other as the movie started. When the food arrived Jungkook stood up immediately, throwing the whining Jimin's leg off of him in the process.

"Does our skinship bother you?" Jimin asked immediately when Jungkook was out of earshot.

"Nope."

"Good," Jimin's hand came down twice on yours, a contact you weren't expecting. Jimin giggled at the look on your face, but nothing else could be said as Jungkook came back into the room. The rest of your visit held the same kind of calmness, until Seokjin called you to tell you he's waiting outside, liberating you to think without anyone watching you.

Jimin texted you when you were on the way back, asking you if you're free to meet again soon. Seokjin was telling you a very long story through the entire time you were texting, and you were only half listening. He noticed, but didn't mind much.

"Hey Jin," you lowered your phone, intentionally interrupting him in the middle of a sentence. He stopped with a huff, but didn't complain farther, which gave you the okay to continue. "What did you say to Jungkook? He said you asked him to be nice to me."

"Just that."

"Shut up, I know you," You watched him, examining his face. You knew this boy too well, he knew exactly what you were referring to and he wasn't going to let it go easily. "What did you say?" You insisted.

"Honestly? Not much," He shrugged his shoulders, fingers lightly tapping on the wheel. "I called to ask him to be civil because you didn't choose this either. The important part of the conversation," Seokjin paused just to be dramatic, his finger pointing at your face for emphasis. "is what he said. And before you start pushing, I promised him whatever he says is safe with me."

You whined but knew your best friend too well to assume anything you can do will get him to change his mind. He was sassy but trustworthy, and if he promised Jungkook he won't say anything, he won't even break down for you.

The second time you came to Jimin's house, you drove your own car. You were a lot less nervous than the first time since you kind of knew what you were walking into. The birds at the doorway seemed welcoming now, and Jungkook even gave a small smile as he opened the door.

"He was too lazy to get up," he said as a way of explaining, leaving you to get out of your shoes since you already knew where to go. You followed shortly after him, just a little surprised to see Jungkook's stuff were spread next to Jimin's.

"Y/N!" Jimin threw his arms up from the spot where he was laying on the sofa. He just barely pushed himself into a sitting position to give you space to sit besides him. "Are you okay with Jungkook staying with us?"

"Of course," You responded, pulling your notebook out.

"Good," Jimin's hand came down on yours again, with Jungkook watching but not saying a word. "He could use some help as well, he got partnered with that Kris guy that is too cool for school."

"Jimin," Jungkook's voice held a warning that Jimin simply swatted away.

"It's just Y/N, it's fine. She'll help you not to fail," Jimin grinned at Jungkook before turning the same grin to you. "Spending half the time on our assignment and half on his is okay?"

"Sure," You smiled back, daring to smile at Jungkook as well. He stared back, and only managed to chuckle when he turned away from you.

"Great!" Jimin clapped, opening his notebook to show you he already progressed with your ideas. You pulled it from his hands, examining what he wrote down to find he did a pretty good job. You were kind of surprised to see the improvement. Jimin was smarter than you considered him to be.

Jimin's lead allowed you to slip back into the comfortable conversation you had last time, making wonderful progress with your ideas. Jimin started building an outline as you spoke, structuring your ideas in a coherent manner that will make writing the assignment easier for the both of you, no matter who took which part. Jungkook was watching you occasionally, and you couldn't miss the affection he held for Jimin. It just blossomed out of him with no effort. There was no hostility left in him for you, and even laughed at your jokes.

When Jimin said he's stepping out to go to the bathroom, you simply leaned back against the sofa to continue working on your formation. You felt Jungkook had something to say again, and you peaked over the notebook to see him already looking at you.

"I," he began, and you lowered the notebook to give him your full attention. "I do live here. I didn't answer you last time and it was rude, sorry."

"It's okay," You smiled.

"My parents died when I was young and Jimin's parents took me in," he continued, the rubbing of his hands together showing his awkwardness. You wondered why he was telling you this very shortly, since you wanted to actually listen to him. "I owe a debt to them. Jimin told them we have a Rat in class after the first day of Uni, and they asked me to make sure you don't come near him. So… I went a little overboard. I'm sorry."

You nodded slowly. You didn't know why he was being this open with you, but you appreciated the honestly. You figured no one expected having a Rat in their class since your kind usually sticks together and avoids big cities from the fear of being excluded within them. "It's okay," you reassured again, and Jungkook seemed to breathe out in relief. He smiled, flashing his bunny-like teeth in sincerity.

"Thank you," He glanced down at his hands, still rubbing them against each other. "I'm glad I listened to Seokjin, and I'm glad Jimin was right about you. I was acting so stupid."

"It's – "

"Jungkook project time!" Jimin shouted as he walked back to you, interrupting whatever moment you were sharing with Jungkook. He chuckled and handed you his notebook, which you accepted. Jungkook's poem was a little harder than yours, you could see the complications in it. Jimin helped you speak to Jungkook easier, to find ideas. As you were talking he was writing down important things to form into a proper paper later. The new information you accumulated was still residing in your head, to be thought of more deeply later.

For now, you just enjoyed their presence.

You noticed you're slipping slowly. The first thing that caught your attention is how easy the road to Jimin's home became with each time you visited. Honestly there wasn't much left to the assignment you were doing and Jungkook's part in his was complete two visits ago, but here you were, dropping by again in the clear pretense of having to work on it.

Another thing that alarmed you is how easy it was to be in their presence. You stopped hanging out in the living room a long time ago, preferring Jimin or Jungkook's bedroom instead. They didn't even bother opening the door for you – since they always invited you when Jimin's parents were out there was no risk. You could just walk into one of their rooms, hang out with them, talk about everything and nothing. Jimin always made sure you're comfortable, keeping his "is this okay" questions as his tool to do it. Jungkook connected to you more naturally, he tried things like lying on your thigh with careful eyes judging your reaction but with no words.

In opposition to everything you thought you'll go through in preparing this assignment, this was easy. It was nice, warm, and it kinda felt like you found your own little room in their lives. Going to classes also became easier, since you didn't need to be careful. Taehyung was taken aback when Jungkook called you to land a perfectly good joke and earn your laughter, and Hoseok accepted it without question. Seokjin proposed moving closer to them in the class-space, but Jimin waved him off, carrying his stuff to where you were usually sitting in the back of the class. His reasoning was that moving away from the professors is more rational than moving closer.

Somehow even the non-Zodiac people in your class seemed to notice the shift. Of course they had no idea what caused the animosity between you and Jungkook to begin with, but the friendship that rapidly grew between you was a dirty contrast to what you were to each other before. You noticed people glancing your way, eyebrows raising as Jungkook allowed himself to be a fool while sitting right on your left. Jimin tried to settle on your right, but one look from Seokjin told him he didn't earn the ability to come between you yet. Instead he used to stand in front of you and Jungkook during the break, leaning against the row in front of you with each of his legs touching one of Jungkook and yours.

You were continuedly surprised at how easy it was. You kind of hated yourself for complicating this easy routine you had. The most blurring alarm in your head wasn't oriented there at all, but in the depth of your stomach. See, whenever Jimin laid besides you in his bed, his legs touching yours and pure sunlight pouring from his eyes as he giggled at you, you felt butterflies. Every time Jungkook laid his head on your thigh or cracked jokes at you just to see you smile, you felt butterflies. Every time you crammed together on Jimin's bed to watch another non-Marvel movie, you usually in the middle because Jimin kept insisting that if one of you falls it's not gonna be you, you had butterflies. It's like you couldn't keep this simple, couldn't enjoy what you got without secretly craving more.

Because you liked both of them at the same time, you felt biased when you noticed the little sparks going off between them. You noticed Jungkook's affection for Jimin a long time ago, but only when you started getting to know them better did you notice Jimin's affection for Jungkook. It wasn't in the look he gave but in the actions he took. It's like he knew what was going through Jungkook's head, knew that his friend wasn't good with words, and he became his mouth or acted automatically to solve whatever problem Jungkook never uttered. You could see their friends were aware of it too, always teasing Jimin that him and Jungkook are such soulmates that they had no use for words.

They never refuted that, and you believed no lie could cover that obvious truth.

And it made you jealous.

Not mad jealous, not something that came between the three of you. It was just this secret passion to get in on their secret, to tap that frequency that they communicate through and help Jimin please Jungkook, get that same look that Jimin gets, to be in the middle not because you could be physically harmed, but because that's your natural place.

This kind of horrible wishes made you consider skipping town and never seeing anyone again. You were accepted by them completely, but you were still a Rat. You needed to remember that, needed to remember that you're actively avoiding Jimin's parents because they hate you, not being friends with them from the beginning because Jungkook protected Jimin from you. This place that you accumulated in their lives – it's not permanent. It's not actually yours.

With this heavy feeling in your chest you tapped in the code to the apartment, leaving your shoes at the door in the empty spot they kept for you. The sun was pretty nice today, so they'll probably be in Jimin's room. As you climbed the stairs, you could hear faint music coming from the almost closed door – they usually leave it wide open when you're over. You stared at it for a second, wondering if you should knock. You lifted your hand to do so when a soft moan came out of the room, making your heart skip a beat. You looked above your shoulder to find Jungkook's room was empty. The fisted hand you lifted to knock made soft contact with the door, mindlessly choosing to simply push the door open and come face to face with whatever you're going to find.

You really shouldn't have been so surprised when the scene revealed itself to you. Jimin was lying on his back, legs wrapped around Jungkook's waist, who was lying on top on him. They were almost fully dressed – almost because Jungkook wasn't a fan of wearing shirts inside the house. You swallowed thickly as you watched Jungkook's tongue slipping for a second from the seam of Jimin's lips, just to return inside as Jimin's fingers pressed into his skin, bringing him impossibly closer. You couldn't move, couldn't think when you watched Jungkook's fingers weave in Jimin's hair, pulling his head to a better position to kiss him deeper. After moving his head, Jimin's now open eyes could easily find you standing in the doorway, mouth slightly open and your hand still on the door.

You felt adrenaline shoot right through you as he pushed slightly at Jungkook's chest. Jungkook's head turned your way, but before you could see his expression you already removed yourself from the door. Your hand barely met the railing as you hurried downstairs, trying your hardest to ignore your name being called behind you. Just as you reached the last step, almost out of this situation completely, you felt determined arms wrapping around you to pull you against a stable chest. You knew it was Jimin from the smell of his hair as his head rested on your shoulder, adding pressure to stopping you from leaving.

"Please wait," He said softly into your clothed shoulder, his palms rubbing your sides. You obeyed, but only because you had to catch your breath after what felt like running a marathon. You heard Jungkook's familiar, heavier steps coming down the stairs, though he was a lot slower than Jimin. He stopped close by, but not close enough for you to see him.

"Y/N," Jimin pleaded with the sound of your name, making your heart ache. You could make out tinkers of regret in the syllables, the pained feeling washing over you and forcing you to place your own hands on top of his, calming him down. It worked immediately, as he lifted his head from your shoulder to peer at your face. "Is this weird?"

You had no idea what to say, your mouth opening slightly just to close again.

"Is it making you uncomfortable?"

You tried to calm your mind, just as desperate as Jimin to know the answer to that. A dull throb in your stomach told you that no, it didn't make you uncomfortable. It made you excited, and not in the innocent way. Seeing them like this, together, kissing, it felt right. It felt like something you wanted to see again, something you wanted to experience for yourself. Just another thing you wanted to be a part of.

"No."

Jimin breathed out against your throat, making you shiver. His hands felt more confident, moving along with yours to rest on your stomach. You could see a movement from the corner of your eye, but Jungkook stopped before he'll be too close. "We want you to stay. Is that okay?"

You relaxed your back to Jimin's chest, nodding your head. Jimin turned you around and you saw Jungkook's face for the first time – his eyes were wide and fearful as he stood there, not knowing what to do. You couldn't help but smile at him just to calm him down, your hand reaching out to him as well. He held it softly, taking one more step down to be closer. "It's okay," you reassured him, finally earning a smile from him in return. He led you back upstairs, with Jimin still attached to your back. It was awkward, but you felt like Jimin needed that so you powered through.

You only blushed a little when they led you back to Jimin's bedroom, noting how messy the sheets were from their movements on them just seconds ago. Jungkook walked around the bed to climb on the other side, but he didn't lie down until you settled in the middle. Instead, he waited until he could lie on your thigh again, fingertips tentatively brushing over your jeans. This was the most Dog you've ever seen him, almost pawing at you to make sure you're not mad. You fought the urge to play with his hair, feeling like it's too intimate after what you just witnessed. Your decision to place your hand on his shoulder instead did not go unnoticed by Jimin's careful eyes.

"How about Spiderman Homecoming?" Jimin's soft voice made you chuckle.

"I'd love to."

Jimin settled on your left, taking your hand in his the moment he turned on the movie and tossed the remote away. He leaned his head against your shoulder, playing with your fingers with both his hands. You stayed in silence as the movie started but you weren't really watching. You were too focused on everywhere your body made contact with them, the memories floating in your head, the meaning behind it.

Their friends must have known about this… thing. You didn't actually know what you walked into and they didn't seem to care about it. It also seemed rational for Jungkook to be so protective of his… boyfriend? Friend with benefits? You really had no idea what to call it. It felt like a lightbulb just turned on in your head, shedding light on things you didn't know were hidden in the unknown. You felt stupid for not putting the clues together, but they did seem to be pretty skinship-y with you as well, so how were you supposed to know?

Jimin's fingers slipped between the gaps of yours, securely holding your palm against his. You looked down at your hands – this is the first time he didn't simply play with your fingers. You never actually held hands before. Jimin noticed your shift, lifting his head to meet your eyes. You felt like he was trying to communicate something to you, and it frustrated you that you weren't on the frequency yet to know the words he didn't say. Jungkook tensed against your leg, obviously feeling the new, confused energy. He moved to push his nose against your thigh, asking for something. Again, you didn't know what.

Jimin lifted your joined hands to place the back of your hands against his lips. He didn't kiss it, just held it there as if he's hiding a part of his expression. You could see regret attaching itself to his expression, and you really didn't like it. As an instinct, feeling like there's nothing you could say to make this better, you pulled at his hand until you could press a kiss against his skin. It was small, but you felt like it was so meaningful. The relief replacing the guilt in Jimin's expression informed you he got it as well.

"Thank you for staying."

You felt like Jungkook's palm, spreading over your thigh, was attempting to say the same thing.

"Yeah, they've been dating for a while now," Seokjin shrugged your terror off.

"And you never thought to tell me," you deadpanned, throwing the closest thing you could grab at his face.

your pencil bounced off of his chest, completely not harmful but still earned a frown. "I thought they'd tell you when they're ready. It seems like they were."

"You think they decided to tell me like that?" You heaved a sigh, nothing allowing the tightness in your chest to be released. Your mind conjured the image of Jimin's sad face as he waved you goodbye that day, like he thought this was the last time you'll be seeing each other.

You really hoped it wasn't.

"I mean, they knew you were coming," Seokjin began, fingers tapping on your knee. You wondered if your sigh made him worry, since he looked not annoyed but a little concerned now. "Jungkook is a moment kind of guy, but Jimin is more calculated than that. He would have stopped whatever it is before you came, if he didn't want you to see."

"But why?"

You could tell there was something Seokjin wasn't telling you. He just tapped on your knee, saying nothing that could help.

my partner asked me to change something you have time tomorrow at 5? 14:10

You saved Jungkook's number a while ago, but this was the first text messages between you. Jimin was the one usually texting you for the both of them, or you talked over in the group Jimin opened for the three of you. Nonetheless, you couldn't jump fast enough on an opportunity to feel like everything is okay between you.

Sure, see you then. 14:10

You were surprised to find Jungkook in Jimin's room, but with no Jimin to be found. Another missing ingredient was his work stuff, since he just sat around on Jimin's bed on his phone. The moment you made your presence known he threw him phone on the bed, watching with as you crawled next to him.

"I didn't really need help, it was an excuse," Jungkook confessed.

You puffed the pillows behind you, settling beside him. "Why do you need an excuse to hang out?"

"Didn't know what else to say," he shrugged, shimmying closer until your shoulder touched his arm.

You chuckled, touching his leg with yours. "Just say you want to hang out, it's enough."

"I want to hang out."

You laughed, looking at Jimin's glowing stars stuck to the ceiling. The silence wasn't uncomfortable like you feared but pleasant. Jungkook's leg touched yours a few times, but the touch didn't remain as he pulled away. You said nothing to that either, just letting him find his comfortable place since you knew it was harder for him to shake it off than it was for you.

"I didn't get to spend a lot of time near Dogs," Jungkook mused in a light tone, turning his body more towards you to get your attention. You simply looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "But I heard there's this thing, with Rats."

You blinked, knowing that the look on Jungkook's face meant he was testing the waters with something that he's not sure how you will react to. "What thing?"

"An attraction," he paused, evaluating each altered muscle in your face. "Like, a physical one."

You hummed, needing to look away from his intense studying. You didn't know where he's going with this, but your heart started high-key hammering in your chest. "Yeah, that's a thing. I heard about it, but you're kind of the first Dog I've been close to, so I'm not sure."

Jungkook made a small sound, almost like he was frustrated that you're not saying what he wanted you to say. He tried again, sitting up a little to get a better look at you. Your heartbeats became louder to your own ears, making you feel like you're trapped under his attention though you could very easily get away. "Do you," he began, eyes drilling into yours. "Do you feel it?"

You held your breath, not sure what to say. Just the last time you were here you saw how much him and Jimin are feeling for each other, why would he ask you this now? Do they know you have feelings for them and that's what he's trying to get at?

Jungkook licked his lips in a flash. "Jimin," Your heart dropped at the mention of his name as guilt creeped in. "He told me to ask." You frowned, taking in how much closer Jungkook is leaning now, never relenting. "Is it okay if I kissed you?"

You felt like every muscle in your body just hit pause. You looked at him, at the anticipation he now showed after asking the question. It was so not him, he would just do things when his calculated consequence was worth the risk – they must have talked about it, as you know them Jimin must have insisted this is not worth the risk no matter how many calculations he made, he had to ask instead of do. And he did, and you could see how uncharacteristic of him it was as he anxiously waited for your response.

You felt your body move, your instincts taking the wheel to getting what you desired for a long time now. You felt yourself nod, and Jungkook needed no more. He kissed you immediately, hands sailing from your shoulders to your neck, until they could spread across your jaw and cheeks. You felt him tilting your head – like he's done with Jimin – as he moved his body closer to encase you in. He pressed you against the pillows behind you, the body weight on top of yours feeling right enough for your hands to find his waist, asking for more. He complied, tongue moving past your lips to stroke at yours. He made an approving sound from the back of his throat, and you responded immediately with a breathless sound of your own.

You were so focused on the sensations you almost missed the dip of the bed from your left, where Jimin usually is.

Jimin.

You broke apart from Jungkook, not missing his displeased sigh right before he pressed his nose to your shoulder. Right above his you found Jimin's face, with a wild twinkle in his eye and a wide smile pressed painfully tight to his cheeks. "Why did you stop?" he asked cheerfully, crawling closer.

"Because it's weird when your boyfriend is watching," Jungkook answered instead of you, his face still hidden.

"It's not weird, it's nice." It only took one tap of Jimin's hand on Jungkook's head for him to lift his head, pecking his boyfriend centimeters from your face like this is absolutely normal. Jimin's hand came down next to your head as he made sure his amused face is the only thing you could see. "Is it okay?"

You knew what he was asking and knew that Jungkook was watching. Looking at him you found he wore the same expression he had before, like he was waiting for what's to come on the edge of his seat. He nodded at you, rapid motions that were meant to lead you just agree.

So you did.

Jimin's kiss was much less passionate than Jungkook, he just enjoyed the touch, the permission he was granted to have another piece of you. It didn't last long either, but the look he gave you – Jungkook's look – set your mind at ease.

He and Jungkook shared a moment, both still holding you, and you got it now. This time their plan worked. "We want you," Jungkook blurred out, eyes shifting to you as Jimin giggled against his shoulder. "I know you probably understood on your own, but it's important for me to say."

You smiled at Jimin's fit of happy little giggles and at the blush spreading across Jungkook's cheeks. "I want you too."

#bts scenarios #btswriters #bangtan bookclub #jimin scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jikook #bts

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renaer-is-allegedly-hot · 4 years

Text

session 6

so pdfing and jpging things for tumblr is hard so ur just gonna deal with this have fun

I'm sleepy

Also criminal minds is v good

"rain makes sleepy" or smth I can't process anything rn

"can I just stop.. Stop trying .. With discord"

We're so quiet

And out of it

"if I have an extra belt, I'll just hook it to it" - dom2020, about the loss of his window blinds stick thing

The only people w blinds problems r jacob n dom apparently

Jacob: can we start at 3

Jacob: can we start at 4

Jacob: can we start at 5

Lol ok

If lillian is a reformed horse girl dom is a reformed cow boy

JACOB IS GOING TO REPLACE THE MILK IN DOM'S HOUSE WITH HIS

"I'm going to go to your house and replace the milk in your house with mine"

Dom didn't know males could lactate

Last time we finished downtime w a bomb I guess

An explosion outside of our home

N then we found out the one goblin or smth killed by the explosion was the last key holder of the oh it was a gnomes it was an associate of renaer's father

Asyna given a necklace by a child + asyna's fish spirit thing

We go into mirt's house in one of the sitting rooms

Renaer is pacing and looks concerned n frantic

U missed sylvia's question oops

Ok wait suddenly we started talking about trump and politics what happened

Ok so when it comes to protesters burning stuff like cars and businesses there are a lot of reports that it's not protesters and that it's police and/or random ppl just joining to break things

I haven't looked into that as much but one of the biggest arguments is that ppl who were really protesting wouldn't b burning down the low-income businesses n stuff that have been

Adam asking to renaer and floon if the gnome had a reason to come to our house

Maybe gnome found out ppl were watching and maybe wanted to give us the thing

Adam asking if we need the body

if he didn't have it on him then the authorities would've confiscated

There r speak w dead practices ig

Not really any reason to believe it's not on the body

Mirt asks us to recount the events

Looked like zents

Why would zents want the gnome

Renaer said smth

All of us r flustered from day's events

Theo got 15

One of the neighbors fallah the elf person had said someone wandered off

Adam tells them abt which building the attack probs came from

Asyna brings up necklace and said it was from a puppet

Mirt takes the necklace and is looking at it

Four jewels hanging from the broken necklace, reddish-orange almost marbles

Looks like one of them had been pulled off

Stone impervious to scrying magic

Stone looks like ?????

Either with the police or on the zent or idk

Could ask trench to find it bc expert tracker

Adam runs arcana check on it

Rolls 18, learn it could have smth to do w the element of fire

"can we throw it into the fire?"

Gonna dangle the necklace over the candle

No reaction

Asyna has her deer, summons it

Comes out, paces, looks at asyna expectantly

Naya is a scrying deer so u can tell it to scry

"I'll show naya the necklace, be like, 'scry'"

Jumps around, backs up toward house front then looking for us to follow

Mirt is meeting w associates

Adam: "invite us" . "sometime"

Renaer says he'll lie low probs bc worried abt his fate

Floon says ditto basically

We're following naya and watching it move through the streets

Right as the sun sets make it further into sea ward and then naya stops and returns to the token

Back in the direction of our house toward a gated, walled-off manor house w elegant metal bars blocking some sight and a low wall covering it, locked gate

Building behind it looks two stories tall

You do not recognize the building

No visible guards, just the wall itself

Some light coming in from windows but no one in front of the windows walking around

Some light lit on the second story

Sylvia's gonna jump over it ig but I have to play w thE CHILD

Sylvia wants to use a bear

R we using my dog

Or is asyna turning into a bear

No one's around it's night

We're gonna try picking the lock first ig

Oh nvm we're knocking

Asyna is knocking

Waits a little, no response

Door made out of solid wood but we're just gonna lockpick instead of letting adam destroy it

Theo tries lockpicking, puts ear to door and eventually can't pick open lock

If asyna turns into an animal she can open the door

Squirrel!asyna time does it ez

Rolls 15 for perception

Squirrel!asyna is on the wall, there's a pathway that goes forward and one branching off towards the left to what's probably a guest house

Adam is gonna send message, eventually we notice a groundskeeper w two mastiffs

They're kinda far from us, over 100 ft away they're just making rounds

Asyna might try to unlock the door as a squirrel

Strength check as squirrel

Dogs r getting closer

Asyna can't open it

Could knock when the groundskeepers r closer

When mastiff+groundskeeper come closer we'll try that

OOP just asyna is rolling initiative as a squirrel

Lmao rolled nat20

Asyna might die ???

Climbs up wall again

Gets onto top of wall

Older human gentleman just pulls dogs aside

Groundskeeper says we can't go in and eventually walks away

Adam "not even someone who has official business with the house's master ?"

Rolls a 9, groundskeeper says come back in the sun

There's a dirt path ???? One going forward towards a porch into the main building, and a side path that eventually diverges abt 50 feet up the path further into the courtyard

Not a manor w manicured gardens, otherwise just p flat

We're gonna stealthily run for it

We make it to the main door of the house, it's unlocked - doesn't even look like it could be traditionally locked bc it's just a display door

We forgot to lock the door we left

60 feet away

Adam is giving me bardic inspiration whispered

He's playing a soft lullaby

You RUN

Can kinda shut it, to left you see the two dogs and groundskeeper but they don't notice you and you sneak back

We go into the villa

Go in, shut the door haha frozen computer

We enter and see immediately to the left 15 ft away a shut door, further down the hallway a long dinner setup

Dinner table turned over on its side

Staircase and another set of doors to right

But most of all there r dead bodies littered in the hallway

Probs 10ish

Some dressed in typical guardsmen attire w spears, smaller number of bodies covered in zents attire

We hear sounds of active fighting upstairs

Inspect the dead bodies

No one recognized, one of them collapsed in front of a doorway leading into a

Five different exits including door we came from and stairs

Check the other exits

Naya is summoned but it doesn't work

Oh bc it's once a day

Nvm there are four different doorways

One w a guard slumped over in front of it

Go to door to immediate left

Adam stealthily cracks door open, looks like a storage room

There's a skinny 5ft wide staircase to the right

Gonna check another door

Peek into another room w two human men dressed in black zent robes w maces at their belts and at the sound of the door, turn and r shocked for a second

Cel goes first

Groot gets 6 for initiative idk if there r any modifiers

They're running forward to attack

U roll 17+4 for first insight

U have sneak attack against one of the targets

14 pts of damage gOD I'M SO SORRY Y'ALL I TOOK A FAT MINUTE

U run up and stab him and he looks p heavily wounded

Cel has tripped and fallen for reasons

U get 4 damage he tries to hit u in the head so the wooden part of the mace hits ur head

Asyna

Pulls out ice knife

21 to hit, going for the one that hit me

Rolls a 1 LMAO

Ice knife

Couldn't hit him w full attack but secondary part of the attack hit him and has some damage

Adam

Runs into line of sight, they look cut up but not bloodied

Casts vicious mockery on the one u stabbed

Points at hole in gut "I bet the hole in ur gut is not as large as the hole in your heart"

4 damage

Theo

Strikes and misses

Groot

2 damage

Dom's gonna

kill my dog

Other guy attacks theo

Hits

U do 5 damage

Ok so

Ig every time u fight

U can use sneak attack ??

9 pts to damage

Ok I think ur using sneak attack wrong

Adam technically saved ur dog

Asyna

Rolls nat20 to hit

Rolls

Kills the guy

"I mean, shillelagh"

Howls in pain, slumps over on the ground

It's the bald one the guy u stabbed

Adam

Casts vicious mockery

Threatens baldness

2 damage

Theo

2, no hit

Groot

Doesn't hit

Other guy

Trying to hit theo

Hits

3 damage

Aerana

Shortsword

6 damage

Asyna

8 to hit

12 hits

7 damage

Siiiiiis imagine killing both of them wait is he dead

Oop he's not dead yet tho

Adam

Vicious mockery

Lives

Theo

16 to hit

ROLLS A ONE

LILLIAN

Four damage

BRUH

Groot misses

Other guy

Drops his weapon

Adam walks into the room

"hey buddy . What's goin on ?"

Persuasion check at disadvantage

Might as well kill

You kill, groot pushes adam so adam doesn't see

#sn #6 #dnd #d&d #wdh #lmao #mn

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gizkasparadise · 5 years

Note

do u have any ronald crushing on arya/jealous gendry outtakes 👀👀 as always, love the fury thank u for writing it ❤

so not QUITE what you asked for (sorry!!) but the Spirit is there! i had to cut myself off because legit just almost re-wrote all of ch. 22 from ronald’s POV lol

warnings for vague (but probably unsurprising) fury spoilers, a mention of ronnet hitting ronald/ronnet being a piece of shit, and gendry being victim of slander 8(

He hates Gendry Baratheon before he ever meets him. His father’s told them all enough: he’s some grifter from the gutters of King’s Landing, who had kissed enough Targaryen ass to land himself a Lordship. And that’s not even the worst of it all. Ronald had never been to court, but they had a cousin there named Rodolph who always wrote. And Rodolph said Gendry Baratheon’d gone and probably strong-armed Arya Stark into marrying him. They said he dragged her out of the Great Hall, ripped her right out of her betrothed’s arms. The whole court thought him unmannerly and crass and brutish–all the worst parts of Robert Baratheon, as well as his look. His uncle said the only reason the union between Lady Stark and Gendry Baratheon was allowed was because the King was a bastard upstart himself, and the lower born supported their own. Ronald had stared at the wall for that part, fists clenched.

Ronald’s father hadn’t taken any of the news from King’s Landing well. And he took the news about the wedding even less–”bred his bitch soon enough,” had been the exact words. Ronald hadn’t liked that, much. Gendry Baratheon sounded like a piece of gutter shit, but highborn Ladies shouldn’t be called dogs. And it sounded like Arya Stark had suffered enough indignity already.

After the rumors came the announcement that they’d have to host them. Ronald wasn’t privy to his family’s political affairs, but he noticed more ravens going in and out than usual during the month they prepared for House Baratheon’s arrival–east, south, and north. Whatever was happening, his father didn’t like it.

The week before their arrival had been even worse–the general mayhem of preparing for a host of fifty-something men, but also the way his father and uncle had been acting. They were both more short-tempered than usual, slamming doors and throwing books into fires. Ronald made the mistake of asking about one of their conversations and gotten a split lip for his trouble. He stopped asking after that.

The night before they were meant to arrive, father calls him into his solar.

“We can’t trust him, Ronald,” Ronnet says, fingers crossed over his mouth.

Ronald hadn’t been invited to sit, so he just stands behind the chairs across from his father’s desk. “Yes, father.”

Ronnet’s gaze flickers up. “How much do you know of our House’s relationship with the Baratheons?”

“They stole our land,” he says without having to think about it. Ronald doesn’t remember much about his grandfather, for whom he was named, but he does remember the hatred with which he spoke of Robert Baratheon. Nine-tenths of House Connington’s holdings had been dispersed, the majority split between House Mertyns, Rogers, and Wylde. All because Robert had a temper tantrum.

“That’s correct.” His father shifts in his seat. “Because you are my blood, and one day I may legitimize you should I never have a true son-”

Ronald swallows hard.

“-it’s your right to know what this visit means.” Ronnet drops his hands from in front of his mouth. “We have pledged support to Gendry’s claim because Jon demanded it. But our cousin is still in Essos, and did not realize the unfortunate history repeating in the Stormlands. I’ve since informed him.”

Ronald’s not sure what’s meant by all this, but he wisely stays silent.

“I suspect Gendry Baratheon is coming to pillage our coffers and further disgrace our House by taking our status as landed knights. He is here for what could be your birthright, Ronald.” Father sneers. “Lowborns like him care little for honor or tradition. And he’s already proven himself bloodthirsty and soulless by allying with Daenerys Targaryen after she killed half of King’s Landing. I have no doubt he will find any reason to take the Roost from us and give it to one of his cutthroat bootlickers.” He clenches his jaw. “We must not trust this man, or any of his retinue, do you understand?”

“I understand.”

His father leans back and stares at him for a long while, as though trying to see how honest he’s being. Ronald straightens his posture. After a moment, he nods. “While they are here, you are to remain out of sight and mind. No doubt he’d find your mere presence an insult to him, and we cannot give him any excuse to punish our family.”

Ronald grinds his teeth. Of course high and mighty Gendry Baratheon would take any issue with a bastard who did as he was supposed to do and stayed a bastard. “I understand.”

Father looks at him once more, but then waves his hand dismissively.

Ronald tries to smile. “Goodnight, father.”

“Yes, yes. Go now.”

–

The day they arrive, he’s told to stand in the back with the servants–it wouldn’t due to offend the Lord Mighty on High by ruining his view. He’s intent to stare at the dirt the entire time out of defiance, but when people in the courtyard start whispering, his curiosity gets the better of him. Ronald’s not tall, and so he has to shoulder a few people to the side in order to see the party arriving. The first person he sees can only be the Hound– the infamous lapdog of the Lannisters (yet another reason why Gendry Baratheon is scum). He’s a fearsome sight, half his features unrecognizable under the thick webbing of scar tissue. After him comes…a woman? in blue and gold-tinted armor, her face dour and Ronald has never heard of ladies in armor and so he is caught staring for a moment–the same way one might stare at a fire-eater or a juggler or something.

Then comes the man who can only be Gendry Baratheon. Immediately, Ronald thinks his reputation is well-earned. He can’t make out Lady Stark yet, but he can tell that Gendry dismounts his ugly-looking horse and moves forward without offering to help his pregnant wife down from hers. Ronald reluctantly admits that he’s big, his lumbering frame a build found on the villains in songs. The menacing appearance is enhanced by his shortly cropped hair–the sort of style worn by criminals or hard laborers. Gendry frowns when he addresses his father, not even attempting a genial greeting as befitting a Lord. Father was right when he said Baratheon was there to look down at them.

A slight figure steps forward, then, and Ronald’s eyes go wide.

His first thought is that he’s never seen a woman like her. She wears a man’s clothes, hair in an unraveling braid over her shoulder and still slightly wet from the hard rainfall an hour or so ago. When she walks, it’s with an easy grace that reminds him of cats, but there’s something dangerous about her, too. Ronald looks at her waist and sees at least two weapons–a dagger and a sword of some kind. Her grey eyes are striking even from where he stands.

He hears his father greet her as Lady Arya and his mouth goes dry. It’s not fair that she’s in this situation. That she’s to be a mother to this terrible man’s child, instead of with her real betrothed in Dorne.

The usurper lord walks into the gates of his home (without offering his pregnant wife an arm of escort!) and Ronald hates him that much more.

#asks!#the fury #!my post #fanfic #Anonymous

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generallynerdy · 5 years

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Our Little Secret Epilogue (Merlin & Child!Reader, Mordred X Reader)

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, and 14

Summary: An old friend returns from the grave to to find the world he abandoned is not quite as he remembers it, nor are its people.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Warnings: author insert but u can’t prove anything, cursing probably, grieving, minor injuries, blood, mentions of death, mentions of funerals, REUNIONS

Word Count: 3,526

Note: i’m so proud of this okay lancelot became more important than i thought he would be and also i didn’t kill the dog are u proud of me??? u should be i was really planning on it. Thus ends Our Little Secret. I hope you enjoyed it as much as i did!!!!

nobody guessed the amount of title drops (it was 23) but i wasn’t actually gonna keep this from u lmao no

It was as bright a day as any in Camelot, a day like any other. The knights were training in the field, the children were playing in the lower town, and the king was hunting in the woods with his servant.

“Wonderful day, Merlin. Don’t you think?” Arthur asked, his horse trotting at a leisurely rate.

Merlin laughed. “Sure, if you consider hunting wonderful. I’d rather be home-- asleep.”

“You have no sense of adventure, even after all these years,” Arthur sighed.

“That’s exactly why I have none,” his companion scoffed. “I’m done with adventure, thank you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a branch snapped in the forest, making both men jump. Arthur drew his sword when a figure emerged from the woods. However, the man that appeared seemed harmless, as he was grasping his side and was close to collapsing.

“Who are you?” Arthur spat. “Show your face.”

He tried to speak, but refused to look up, so neither could hear him.

“I order you to show yourself!”

It was then he looked up, blood dripping from his mouth as he fell to his knees. His face was pale, his hair wild, yet they both recognised him instantly.

Arthur dismounted, eyes wide as Merlin spoke a name no one had in years.

“Lancelot?”

Days before Samhain, (Y/N) invaded Lancelot’s room. She entered without a word of warning, flopping onto the knight’s small but comfy bed. He stood behind a screen, changing out of his armour.

She blew a raspberry, letting her legs fall over the side of the bed. Suddenly, a thought came to her. She should tell Lancelot.

“I want to be a knight.”

There was a moment of silence. (Y/N) felt her heart clench tighter with each millisecond that passed without speech. Lancelot paused in his movements. She could tell because of the rattle of his chain mail that suddenly stopped. After a second, it was back again and he was finishing up.

“Oh?” He asked.

She felt her breath leave her. “I don’t want to be a serving girl for the rest of my life. But I can’t do anything with magic. So, I want to be a knight.”

“And how--?” He started to ask, appearing from behind the screen, dressed in comfortable clothes rather than his uniform. “--do you plan to do that?”

“Well,” she hummed almost sheepishly, “I’ll need a teacher. And I’ll have to convince Arthur to let me do it.”

Lancelot shrugged and crossed the room. She took up the bottom half of the bed, so he laid horizontally across the top, glancing over at her with a sparkle in his eyes. He lifted his arms to lay under his head.

“That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“You think?”

He shook his head. “If you’re trained well enough, Arthur would have no quarrel.”

“But I wonder who would teach me,” she said, faking thought.

She obviously had an idea in her head of who would. It was a foolish little hope, but seeing as Lancelot wasn’t against her being a knight, she thought he would accept.

“Someone in mind?” Lancelot teased, knowing full well who she wanted as her teacher.

(Y/N) flipped over on the bed and sat on her knees instead, looking down at the man. “Do you really think I could be a knight?”

“Well, it is hard work,” he said with a joking smirk. “Perhaps something a lady isn’t suited for.”

She huffed and hit his chest without much effort. He laughed loudly and pulled her wrist to drag her into a bear hug. She squeaked in protest and fought against his arms as he tickled her sides. The girl screamed for him to let her go, but he refused.

When he did stop, he hugged her tightly. “I do think you could be one, (Y/N). If anyone could, it would be you.”

“Will you train me, then?” (Y/N) asked with wide eyes, turning to face him.

Lancelot grinned. “After Samhain,” he said, touching his finger to her nose lightly, “We’ll talk about it.”

“YES!” She cheered, flinging herself at his neck to hug him again. “I won’t let you down, Lancelot! I promise!”

He shook his head, a permanent smile painted on his face. “You never do.”

(Y/N) shifted her feet in the grass, sword raised high as she readied herself for the attack. Three men surrounded her, each of different stature and skill. As such, she spun slowly, watching each man’s movement to be sure she was ready for whoever struck first.

Despite expecting it to be the big one, it was actually the smallest, who swung at her with such speed that she almost fell over dodging his blow. Nonetheless, the sword just barely missed her and she whirled around the man, kicking him into the burlier one. Both fell over while she focused her attention on the last, who engaged in a violent duel with her.

In the end, she was simply too quick and used their own size against them, constantly making them run into each other. Eventually, the small and big ones were knocked onto the ground, though the last enemy remained standing. (Y/N) went to hit him again, but he raised his hand to stop her.

“Alright,” he announced, “That’s enough.”

(Y/N) stopped, breathing heavily as he dropped his hand. On the ground, the bigger man stood and helped the smaller one up, both of them out of breath and in pain, seeing as the young woman had rightly bested them.

Leon couldn’t help but a smile at the sight of his two friends so exhausted. “You did well, (Y/N).”

“You’re getting faster,” Percival muttered as he brushed himself off.

She passed her sword to Leon and laughed a little. “It helps that you three are predictable.”

“Predictable!” Gwaine, the last of the trio, huffed indignantly. He reached over to ruffle her hair. “That’s just rude.”

(Y/N) glared at him, smacking his hand away. She smiled playfully. “I’ll show you rude!”

Thus, she leapt upon him, starting a wrestling match that made Percival and Leon laugh, not to mention Elyan and the others around them on the training grounds.

Up in the castle, a shadow lingered in the throne room window, watching the scene below. He was shaken from his own thoughts by a solitary voice questioning him, as it had been for nearly an hour.

“And this sorceress that found you--” Arthur started, “Did she tell you anything? Perhaps why she brought you back or how?”

The others in the room, namely Merlin, Gaius, and Gwen, awaited his answer anxiously.

Lancelot shook his head. “Not anything I could understand. The language she spoke was English, but it was-- it was rugged and almost primitive. It was like riddles. I couldn’t get a word of it.”

“Alright, you handsome bastard. Up and at ‘em. I didn’t murder a man for nothing. Time to send you back to Camelot before my readers murder me.”

Lancelot grasped his side, which still ailed him, but not enough that it prevented him from standing. He looked out the window again, watching as the mysterious lady knight was pulled apart from Sir Gwaine and they gave up their fight in good humour. She was greeted by a young man with dark curls, who kissed her sweetly and said something that made her smile.

Arthur joined him at the window, following his gaze. “See something interesting?”

“A lady knight?” The dead man questioned. “You truly have changed Camelot for the better, Arthur.”

“Thank you,” the king answered. “But...”

He glanced back at the others, who all smiled knowingly. Gwen motioned for him to go on, excited for Lancelot to know, but Merlin beat both of them to it.

“That’s no ordinary lady,” Merlin grinned.

Lancelot turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. “No?” He looked back at the window, then to the others again, eyes wide. “You can’t mean--”

It came to him as a sudden realisation, a brick wall to the face. That lady knight was none other than (Y/N), who had been merely a teenager when Lancelot died. They had been great friends, so much so that the girl considered him an older brother, much like Merlin had been to her. He was a role model to her, seeing as her greatest wish in all the world was to become a knight. It seemed that she had accomplished all that she wanted and more.

“Little (Y/N),” Lancelot whispered in awe. He frowned when he remembered the young man next to her. “And the boy assaulting her?”

Gwen laughed. “That’s Mordred. I think he’s more than earned the right to kiss her.”

“Speak for yourself,” Merlin muttered.

Lancelot glanced at the young warlock. “Nice to know we agree on that,” he sighed. “Anything else I should know?”

“Uh,” Merlin cleared his throat. “They know. About my magic and (Y/N)’s.”

“Finally,” Lancelot laughed. “Must be nice to get that off your chest.”

Merlin laughed. “You have no idea.”

“Lancelot?” A young (Y/N) entered the knight’s room hesitantly, knocking on the door slightly.

He appeared from behind a screen, fully donned in armour and ready to go. He grabbed his sword from a table and slid it into its sheath, finally meeting the teenager’s eyes after he did so.

“Yes?” When she didn’t reply at first, he sighed. “I have to go, (Y/N). The others will leave without me if I don’t and Arthur needs to be protected.”

“Merlin says he’s determined to sacrifice himself,” she whispered.

Lancelot’s gaze softened. He strode over to her and took her by the shoulders into a hug. “He’ll be fine. Merlin and I will keep him safe. I promise.”

“Magic always comes with a price,” she said. “Someone will have to die. But if you let me come, maybe I could find a spell--”

“No. It’s too dangerous. I won’t let you risk discovery like that.” He went silent. “All of them will return. Every single one.”

“Time to go,” said Merlin, appearing in the doorway.

He saw their tight embrace and (Y/N)’s worried expression, cracking a small fond smirk. They were like the two siblings he’d never had, if he was honest.

Merlin sighed a little. “Don’t worry about us or Arthur, (Y/N).”

“That’s cruel of you to ask,” she huffed through Lancelot’s armour, which her face was buried in.

Lancelot laughed a little. “Don’t worry. Merlin will take care of us. Won’t you?”

“I promise,” Merlin grinned, not thinking much of the statement. “We’d better go.”

The sorcerer nodded at Lancelot, then exited the room, giving them a moment before they had to catch up with the others.

The loyal knight released the girl and, with a soft smile, kissing her forehead fondly. He spoke not another word before leaving the room. She went to stop him, to get him to say a proper goodbye, but words failed her. She glanced down at her hands, heart sinking.

“Goodbye,” (Y/N) whispered.

This day was anything but normal for (Y/N).

As soon as morning training was over, she called Spot to her side and proceeded into the forest, otherwise alone. She walked with purpose toward a clearing, which was entirely empty except for a large boulder surrounded by various flora. The rock had been taken from a cave nearby, a place the young woman knew well. It was where she had first befriended Merlin, so it felt appropriate to take a memorial marker from there.

Taking a knee in front of the stone, (Y/N) said a quiet greeting before shifting to sit criss-cross. She laid her sword gently before the marker, having removed it from its sheath. Old Spot then whimpered and lied down around the stone, watching as his master picked at grass and sighed.

After a long vigil of silence, she spoke.

“I told myself I would never drive myself to the point where I needed to talk to you,” she said. “But I suppose things change.”

She spoke not to the dog, but to the stone he protected. She did not speak loud enough for anyone in the woods to hear her, but if they lingered at the edge of the clearing, her voice would be clear as day.

“I miss you,” she muttered. “It’s difficult, watching everyone so happy, so peaceful. And knowing that you never got to see it. It’s difficult to be happy. Whenever I imagined myself as a knight, you were always there with me; teaching me, training me. But you’re not here and--”

(Y/N) sniffled, begging herself not to cry. She took a deep breath to restore her sanity and continued to speak.

“I think you’d be proud of me. I hope you’re proud of me.” Her words were almost silent, but her next statement was louder. “That day-- the day when it happened, I thought it was Arthur I needed to say goodbye to. It was him I cried over and recounted every good memory with. When he came back, I was happy beyond words, but, then…”

The poor girl had begun to cry, tears dripping down her face and onto the grass. Her tears watered the flowers, but they drowned her own heart.

“Arthur has returned!”

The second the cry went out, (Y/N) was racing from the highest tower in the castle to the courtyard. She had been keeping watch for the knights, Arthur, and Merlin for hours, but the gate guards saw them before she did, miraculously. Nearly tripping over herself multiple times, the girl managed to descend tens upon tens of staircases and make it to the entrance steps before even Gwen.

When she made it there, she found all of them dismounting their horses. (Y/N) barely registered their dismal faces, especially when they saw her.

“Arthur!”

She raced down the stairs to meet Arthur as soon as he was on the ground, crushing him in a hug. The others glanced between each other. Merlin found himself unable to breathe as he looked at the girl, so happy that Arthur had made it back alive. How could he give her the news?

Arthur was shaking as he held her. He was frozen otherwise, unable to move or to give her comfort. His face was solemn, while his eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“You’re alive! You made it!” (Y/N) rambled to him, not noticing his odd behaviour.

Meanwhile, Gwen appeared at the entranceway and began to descend the stairs. She, however, instantly noticed that something was off and stopped before she reached Arthur and (Y/N).

“I knew you’d be alright. Lancelot said you’d be, right L--?” She looked around him to address the knight, but he wasn’t there. “Where’s Lancelot?

Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival were the only knights standing there. They could not bear to meet her gaze, except for Leon. He had given the speech to family members of fallen knights many times, but this one defeated him. He could not find the words to comfort her.

“Is he alright? Is he hurt? Did you leave him in the woods?” (Y/N) began to spout out random excuses. The one most prominent in her mind was one she dared not speak. “Did Morgana take him? Do we need to rescue him? Is he--?”

Arthur interrupted her, pulling something from his saddlebag and holding it out to her.

It was a red cape, dirtied and torn, but neatly folded. This was ruined when (Y/N) clutched it in her shaking hands, turning it into a bundle of dusty cloth.

“What do you think?”

“Hm, it’s a little long for you.”

“It’s not like I’m tripping over it. I’ll grow into it, anyway.”

“I doubt you’ll grow more, (Y/N). You’ll just be stuck as a tiny person forever.”

“Hey! I’m not tiny!”

Tears stung (Y/N)’s eyes.

The rest of the world became fuzzy around her, even Gwen’s light sob from the middle of the staircase. Gaius had appeared at the top of the steps, but she didn’t notice him either. Her gaze was frozen on the cape in her hands, though it was blurred by tears.

“The cost was too high,” Arthur whispered. He closed his eyes and took her head in his hands, pressing his forehead against hers fondly. “I’m sorry.”

When he pulled back, (Y/N) spoke in a hushed whisper. “You’re lying. You’re lying. He-- he can’t-- he--”

“(Y/N)--” Merlin said, appearing at her side.

He reached forward to touch her arm, perhaps to draw her into a hug, but her reaction was instant. She whirled to face him and, closing the bundle of red cloth in her left fist, began punching his chest. It was painful, Merlin admitted, but he took it. He knew she was hurting.

“YOU PROMISED!” She shrieked, her breath coming out in sobs. “You promised! You-- you--!”

Her movements slowed and weakened, her arms soon falling at her sides. Her knuckles were cut open with the force of her punches, which broke Merlin’s heart. He grabbed her arms and pulled her into a tight embrace, cheeks stained with his own tears.

“You promised,” she whispered, almost gagging on the lack of oxygen in her lungs.

“I know,” he replied shakily. “I know. I couldn’t stop him. He wouldn’t let me stop him. I’m sorry.”

“I cried for hours. I was incorrigible. Leon held my hand all the way from my room to the funeral. It was the only way I would go. Agravaine ripped your cloak from my hands, intending to burn it with your sword.” (Y/N) let out a laugh that was halfway to a sob. “Percival ripped it right back, threatening to chop his hands off if he touched me again. I think he really was afraid of me after that, seeing how dear the knights considered me.”

She looked away from the boulder for a moment, touching the cloak around her shoulders with fond gentleness.

“I still wear it. It makes me feel like you’re there, sometimes.” Suddenly, her voice broke with her next statement. “You never said goodbye.”

“I know,” a voice whispered upon the breeze.

(Y/N) knew it was not real, but she felt it resonate within her. She felt a presence, hoping her old friend was listening from the spirit world. It took everything in her to wipe away her tears and calm her breathing, regaining her composure slowly but surely.

“I think of you often,” she gasped through weak breaths. “I miss you terribly. I wonder what you would say if you were here.”

“I would tell you how proud of you I am.”

The words had barely reached (Y/N)’s ears when she flung herself from the ground, sword firmly in hand. In a second, she was facing the intruder with her sword at the ready, convinced that they were an enemy.

She did not hesitate to draw her weapon, despite the voice’s words, because she knew for a fact that Lancelot was dead. Even when faced with a person who looked exactly like him and sounded like him, she did not lower her sword. (Y/N) was convinced that her mind was playing tricks on her-- or someone else was.

“How proud I am,” he continued, unfazed, “Of the person you’ve become, the things you’ve done.”

It was when these words left his mouth that (Y/N)’s grip on her sword slipped. It didn’t fall entirely, but her weapon was lowered. She could hardly believe her eyes. The sight of Lancelot was so real that she doubted for a moment that he was her imagination.

“I would tell you--” He wore a small smile on his face as he exhaled sharply. “I would tell you that I’ve missed you more than anything. And how sorry-- how sorry I am for not saying goodbye.”

(Y/N) let her sword fall out of her hand, landing on the grass with a quiet thump. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Lancelot in desperation. A smile painted her expression, but tears still found their way down her cheeks. He took the hug gratefully, embracing her back just as tightly and burying his head in her hair.

They took no notice of the small entourage that had insisted upon following Lancelot. Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, and the knights, including Mordred, lingered in the forest behind them, watching fondly as the two were reunited. Gwaine made a joke about being robbed of his Lancelot title before promptly wiping at his eyes suspiciously. No one pointed it out.

Meanwhile, little old Spot yipped at the newcomer and ran up to his ankles, sniffing at him curiously. Spot never forgot a face.

“You’re alive,” (Y/N) whispered. “How?”

He pulled away to brush her hair back, examining her face in wondrous awe. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here. And I’ll never leave you again.”

“Promise?” She asked, looking up at him as if she were a child again.

He nodded, a soft smile reflecting the state of his heart. “Promise.”

boi im cryin

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

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imladris-soldier · 5 years

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Lashes (pt 13)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The gang rode hard and fast back to Clemens Point. While they wanted to leave an impression, they couldn't afford another altercation with the Grays. Everyone was too fired up. There likely wasn't a clear head among them.

Star could feel the eyes of Bill and Charles on her as they rode, but the moment she had entered the orchard, she'd hardened herself. This was a part of her they had not seen, but she was not so unfamiliar with it. While it was inevitable that questions would be asked, she would force them to come to her, and even then... could she tell them?

As the gang blew back into camp, the women came running. Abigail wailed about Jack while Ms. Grimshaw demanded to know everything. Her eyes caught on Star as the younger woman hitched her horse, and she practically shrieked, “What the hell happened to her?!”

Star pushed by without a word while Charles murmured, “It's not her blood.”

The Lakota woman pressed through camp to the lake shore. When she reached the water, she knelt in it, cupping some of it into her hands to look at her reflection. Blood spattered her face and hair. It had clotted and looked like a paste. As memories flashed behind her eyes, she submerged her entire head into the lake, shaking it about. As her hair became cleaner, it whipped around her as though it possessed life. When she couldn't hold her breath a moment more, she broke the surface with a gasp.

Now her hair was stuck to her face and head, dripping water down her body – causing the blood on her clothes to run and stain. She sat in the water, breathing heavily and feeling the tendrils of purity attempt to wash clean what she had done.

Before she knew it, her heaving breaths had become sobs. Tears fell down her face, splashing into the lake around her. Nothing living dared come near her... save for one.

Charles sat in the water with her, pulling her into his arms. She leaned against him and let out the pain and the fear that had all been brought rushing back to the surface. Her skin tingled with the memory of it.

“Tell me,” Charles murmured, petting back her hair.

She sniffed, trying to regain control of her voice. This was a story she had told no one. It felt that if she spoke it into existence then it became true, but perhaps that was what was needed. Perhaps it needed to finally be true and not a nightmare that dogged her steps.

“When I was young, children would go missing from our village. It was always assumed that the white men were taking them, though no one knew why. Perhaps to be sold as slaves to people like the Braithwaites or the Grays. They were never seen again.”

Her fingers tangled in Charles' shirt, holding to him for fear of being swept away by the past. “I... I caught them in the act once. I followed them.” Her grip grew tighter. “They did not sell this boy. They... they tortured him. With knives and hot iron. All night I listened to him scream and could not bring myself to move. I was so afraid that they would do the same to me that I hid in the bushes until long after they had killed him and left.”

Charles' grip on her grew tighter – more protective. “They left him to rot on the plains. And so did I. I could not bring myself to carry him back, knowing that I had allowed his death. When I got back to the village, everyone flocked around me, asking if I had been taken or if I had seen the other boy. I... I lied. I told them that I had gotten lost. They thought nothing of it. But the look on his parents' faces has never left my mind. Nor have his screams.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven or eight.”

Charles sighed, holding her head against his chest. “Tȟaŋkší,” he softly whispered in her native tongue. “It was not your fault. You were a child.”

“I can't let it happen again, Charles. Jack is just... he's just a boy.”

“It won't. We know where he is, and we are going to save him. Star, hear me. It will not happen again.”

Though his words rang true and bolstered her confidence, Star broke into tears once more, clinging to him desperately. He simply picked her up and carried her back to his bedroll which he distanced from the camp, placing it near the farthest fire. He sat her down, and told her to dry off – that he would be back.

She sat next to the fire, arms around her knees, as she waited. The heat of the flames went to work sapping the wetness from her hair and clothes, though she had mostly gone numb to all of it. The truth was free from the prison she'd locked it in, but it had fried each of her nerves on its way out.

Charles approached from behind, but his footsteps paused and low voices that she was not meant to hear carried to her. “How is she?” Bill asked, his tone full of worry.

“She's hurting. It is probably best... if she stays with me tonight.”

“...alright. If-if that's what you think is best. Did... did she tell you why...?”

“Yes. And in time, she will tell you too, but for now... give her space.”

“Sure.” There was a pause, then, “I... I really love her.”

“I know. She will need that love soon, but right now she needs rest. And so do you.”

“Ok. Goodnight, Charles.”

“Goodnight, Bill.”

With that, one pair of footsteps walked away, and the other closed the rest of the distance to Star. Charles sat beside her, offering her a bottle of whiskey which she took and drank a long swig from. Anything to help sleep come faster.

“It's going to be alright, Star,” Charles told her, rubbing her back. “You were brave to tell me what happened.”

“I've never told anyone,” she replied at a whisper.

“I know. Are you dry now?” She shrugged. “Try to sleep. I'll stay with you.”

Without any more prodding, Star scooted into the bedroll, laying on her side. Charles laid on his back beside her, his shoulder gently pressed between her shoulders. The contact was soothing. As the alcohol went to work, Star drifted off to sleep.

….

When the sun rose, Charles got up, but he pulled the blanket up around Star. She stirred slightly, recognizing the gesture, before falling back asleep. There was no knowing if Charles had slept at all, but his presence had kept the monsters at bay, so she could be nothing but thankful.

The gang left her alone, and she slept until late in the morning. When she woke for good, she sat up and worked out the kinks in her body. Her clothes were a horrific mess, still a mix of blood and lake water and dirt, so she went to go find new ones.

After she changed, she dragged a comb through her hair, tying it back in a braid. It really needed a proper washing with soap, but that could wait. Who was she trying to impress anyway?

Once she deemed herself presentable, she left her tent to find food. The stew wasn't quite ready, so she took a can of peaches from Pearson's wagon, swiped a fork, then looked around for Bill. He was sitting against the tree again, so she went over and slipped down next to him.

He looked over at her when she arrived, but they sat silently while she opened her breakfast and ate a few pieces. It was fairly obvious that he was nervous about beginning the conversation, likely due to what Charles had told him the night before, so it made all the difference when he finally spoke up. “You ok?”

She sighed, sitting the peaches on the ground between her criss-crossed legs. “No. But I'm going to be.”

He nodded before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. She leaned against him contently, already feeling some peace come back to her bones. In time she would be ready to tell Bill the story she had told Charles, but for now it was good to know he was present regardless.

The spent most of the day together, quietly talking under the tree. Star was a little clingier than usual, but Bill didn't seem to mind. More than once, someone came over to check on her, and she mostly gave a generic I'm fine, however, when Dutch approached, he didn't seem prepared to accept that as an answer.

“How are you, Miss Star?” he asked, crouching down in front of her.

“I'm... alright.”

His brow arched. “Now, we both know that ain't true.”

“What do you want me to say?”

For a moment, he let that sit, then shrugged and nodded. “Fair point.”

“Whatever comes next... you can count on me, Dutch. I wish... I wish there'd been someone like you when I was young. Someone to ride in and destroy anyone who would harm me or my friends.”

A soft smile graced Dutch's features. “Well, miss, I'm here now.” He pat her knee, then stood and left.

Bill watched him go, then turned to Star. “Seems to me like you did pretty good destroyin' your enemies as was.”

“Yeah,” she agreed softly, “but it would have been nice not to.”

Afternoon faded into early evening, and Star finally went to go check on Rhiannon after the stress of the night before. The mare was happily chomping on some hay, nickering quietly when Star approached.

“Hello, lovely,” Star whispered, running her nails along the horse's coat. “You need a bath as much as I do.”

She spent about twenty minutes with a brush, working Rhiannon's coat to a shine. Just as she decided she was happy with it, a voice caught her attention and the attention of everyone in camp. “Hey, Dutch! We got a problem!”

Lenny was walking into camp with his gun trained on two Pinkerton agents. Star's insides froze, and she hurried around the horses towards the middle of camp where everyone was gathering. Bill met her, pressing protectively close.

“Not a problem,” the Pinkerton in charge replied. “Visitors! A solution.” He cast his gaze around, smirking. “Good day, fine people. Mr. Van Der Linde. Mr. Matthews, I presume.” His eyes landed on John. “And who are you?”

John squared up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Rip Van Winkle.”

“Uh huh. Well, allow me to introduce myself. Agent Milton, Pinkerton Detective Agency. This is Agent Ross,” he said, gesturing to the man at his side. When Arthur stepped up, he went on, “Ah, Mr. Morgan, nice to see you again.”

Dutch, his voice brittle with annoyance cut in, “And to what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?”

“I don't know if you're aware, but this... this is a civilized land now. We didn't kill all them...” His eyes landed on Star. “... savages... only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity and basic decency was outmoded or not yet invented.”

Bill stepped partially in front of Star, shielding her from the man's hostile gaze, and for a moment, she feared he might punch him. Milton's smirk grew wider.

“This thing,” he announced, returning his attentions to all, “it's done.”

Dutch rose from his place at the table. “This place ain't no such thing as civilized. It's man so in love with greed he has forgotten himself and found only appetites.”

“And as a consequence, that lets you take what you please, kill whom you please, and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you've led so horribly astray?”

“I'm nothin' but a seeker, Mr. Milton.”

“You ain't much of anything more than a killer, Mr. Van Der Linde. But. I came to make a deal. It's time. You come with me, and I give the rest of ya three days to run off, disappear, and go and live like human beings someplace else.”

There was a moment of silence before Dutch, amusement in his voice, asked, “You came for me? Risked life and limb in this den of lowlifes and murderers so that they might live and love? Well. Ain't that fine.”

A couple chuckles bounced around the gang, obviously raising Milton's hackles slightly. “I don't wanna kill all these folks, Dutch. Just. You.”

Dutch nodded, holding up his hands. “In that case, it would be my honor to join you. Excuse me, friends. I have an appointment to keep with...”

He was silenced by the sounds of every available weapon cocking. Star's hand slipped to her pistol, drawing it and pulling back the hammer, though she left it resting against her hip. Beside her, Bill's rifle raised slightly.

A tense moment of silence followed before Ms. Grimshaw declared, “I think your new friends should leave now, Dutch.”

“You're making a big mistake,” Milton spat. “All of you.”

Dutch laughed. “Yeah. Dreadful. We have got something – something to live and die for. How awful for us, Mr. Milton.” He stepped close to the Pinkerton, his voice deepening into threat. “Stop following us. We'll be gone soon.”

Milton eyed him with spite. “I'm afraid I can't do that. And when I return I'll be with fifty men. All of you will die! Run away from this place, you fools! Run!”

Lenny stepped forward to show them out, grabbing Milton's arm. “Come on.”

“Get your damn hands off me, boy.” With that, he sneered at them all, spun on his heel, and marched out.

Once they were out of earshot, Arthur sighed, “What now?”

“We get outta here,” Dutch answered. “Quick. Any ideas?”

“I know a big ol' house hidden in the swamps outside Saint Denis. I'm sure they'll find us eventually, but it should buy us a few days.”

“A few days is all we need.”

“It's a spot out by Shady Belle. Lenny and I got into that... dispute with the previous occupants. Place is well hidden.”

Dutch nodded, then put a hand on John's shoulder. “You and Arthur ride out and make sure no one else has moved in. Lenny, go follow those fools outta here, make sure they leave. We'll get Jack back, and we'll get gone. The rest of you get packin'!”

The group splintered to do as they were told, but Star stayed put, replacing her gun in its holster. Bill stayed with her, eyes on the woods where the Pinkertons had disappeared. “Who you callin' savages?” he muttered angrily.

Though Star had been caught up in introspection, that one sentence caused her to chuckle softly. “Come on, Bill. Let's get the horses ready.”

They went about their work quickly and mostly quietly. Star spent a lot of that time in her own head. Would the Pinkertons have actually let them go if they'd turned in Dutch? She was not quick to trust the government, but it was an interesting question. In any case, it wasn't even an option. Milton called Dutch a messiah, and in some ways he was. Every person in the gang had a dream of freedom, and Dutch had been the one to put words and actions to that dream. A man with that much influence was certainly no ordinary man.

Besides, she had come to care a lot about their leader. Though she did not spend much of her free time with him, she had observed from afar, and his love for his gang was obvious. He had taken her in when she was alone, and he had offered her respect that many other white men would not have. As long as Dutch was loyal to his family, Star would return that loyalty, and she couldn't see that changing any time soon. Even if the Pinkertons came for them.

“Sure are quiet over there,” Bill called from where he was loading tack onto one of the wagons.

“Just thinking,” she answered, hurling a bale of hay.

“Oh, well, guess I better stay outta that. Never been too good at thinkin'.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Shut up, you fool.”

“Oh, now you're gonna tease me? After all that work you did, tryin' to get the others to knock it off, here you come, just...”

She jogged over the ground, gently grabbing his beard to pull him into a kiss. “I said, shut up.”

“Ow,” he replied, swatting her hand away, though even his beard couldn't hide the grin he was fighting.

“I was just thinking that... well... whatever happens, as long as Dutch is with us... I'm with him.”

Bill smiled a bit. “Good.”

#my writing #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #bill williamson #bill williamson x oc #charles smith #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #lashes

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