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#this is the post I was angry about losing last night
lesenbyan · 11 months
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Today has thoroughly sucked
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strawb3rrystar · 3 months
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Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.
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Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader
Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst
Word count: 600
✰Masterlist
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Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.
"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."
Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.
"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"
Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.
"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."
Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.
"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."
Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.
"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."
Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.
"I am perfectly capable all on my own."
Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.
"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."
Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.
"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."
Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.
"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."
Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.
"God fucking damn it!"
Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.
"@Velvvette liked your post."
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Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG
(Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> Join the taglist
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love-belle · 10 months
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i should hate u !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them using shady captions to communicate and the media and fans being confused.
or
for when you loved them too much. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader
sequel - today and tomorrow and every day after that ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - hello!!! i really hope u like this <3 i was initially gonna do daniel ricciardo one first but i already had 1/2 of this done so i just decided to post this :) thank u sm for reading <3 i love u
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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f1news y/n y/l/n and max verstappen called it quits almost a month ago and it seems like they didn't end on good terms at all. the singer, at her london show last night, threw shade at her ex-boyfriend, saying and we quote, "the next song wouldn't have been possible without this one dude who inspired it obviously. so — here's 'i should hate you'. spoiler alert, i do. thank you!" the reason for the split is still unknown but sources who claim to be close to the pair said that 'it was bound to happen — with their different goals and plans for the future," seemingly referring to the talks that y/l/n wanted to get married and verstappen didn't. both of them have yet to comment on the situation. for more details, click on the link in our bio.
278 comments
username WOAH
username pause.
username ahahahahaha say what.
username oh my god 💀💀💀
username NOT HER CONFIRMING THAT I SHOULD HATE YOU IS ABT MAX
username no bc the way her voice cracked so many times in between the songs like girlie is angry AND hurt
username OH MY GOD
username i genuinely have no words
username omg the photos are NOT of her shading max. it's her laughing at a fan who yelled "you're the baddest bitch of all baddest bitches" at her
-> username YEAH LIKE SHE WAS SO CLOSE TO CRYING WHEN SHE SANG ISHY
username my delusional ass thinking they ended on good terms 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username nah it's so champagne problems and you're losing me kinda thing i can't handle this whatcthe fucj
username OH WHATCTHEBFUCJ
username me getting the big guns out to defend her AND max with my LIFE
username still processing their breakup give me a year to digest this information
username STOP WHAT THE FUCK
username my parents ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
username no bc she's genuinely such a sweet person so if she said this max must've done something 😭😭😭😭😭
-> username STOP NO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username can't believe she's saying this about a dude for whom she wrote "feels like" for like wow.
username I WAS AT THAT SHOW AND SHE LOOKED SO SAD AFTER SHE SAID THIS I FELT SO BAD
-> username SHE ALSO STARTED CRYING WHEN SHE FINISHED SINGING I MISS U IM SORRY AND ZARA (HER LEAD GUITARIST) HAD TO RUN AND CONSOLE HER
-> username AND SHE SAID THAT THE LAST MONTH HAS BEEN HARD ON HER AND SHE APOLOGIZED IF THE SHOW WASN'T AS GOOD AS THE OTHERS
-> username NAH MOTHER ATE AS ALWAYS
username y'all saying this but not the fact that she ALSO said "in another life we would've worked but im grateful for everything i had because for a moment you were mine"
-> username MY HEART JUST BROKE WHATCTHEBFUCK
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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maxverstappen1 i know i say that i am better now, spoiler alert, i am
8,926 comments
username the way my jaw dropped
username THE PICTURES
username GODDAMN
username someone take away y/n's phone before she hits back 💀💀💀
-> username the way i know that she would absolutely destroy him
username NOT THE PHOTOS OMG
danielricciardo spoiler alert, also a liar
-> maxverstappen1 you promised you wouldn't snitch
username he definitely cried while posting this idc
username max babe it's okay to admit that u miss ur wifey bc same 💔💔💔
-> username "wifey" girl he didn't even wanna marry her
-> username not another word.
username funny haha 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 im crying 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 now get back with mom.
landonorris no you're not
-> maxverstappen1 i will block you
username lando and daniel exposing max 💀💀💀
username no bc he probably cries whenever he remembers that he fumbled a baddie like y/n
username "it's all better with you ❤️"
-> username i could've gone along with my day without seeing that just saying
-> username delete that RIGHT NOW before i start crying
username missing max simping for y/n like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
charles_leclerc i swear i can hear you crying from my hotel room
-> maxverstappen1 WE'RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME HOTEL
username the way im SO sure he heard y/n saying that she hates him and that was the moment he gave up
-> username nah bc he was one of the "my girl's mad at me i hope i die" kinda guys
-> username wonder how he's surviving this tbh
username I CAN'T TAKE THIS SERIOUS IM SORRY THE POST IS JUST TOO FUNNY
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername i hate you lol
12,628 comments
username HELP
username she could only get this much in before her manager took away her phone ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
*liked by yourusername*
username no bc girl had a lot to say she's just trying to keep it cute
*liked by yourusername*
username the way i know y/n FOUGHT for the right to post this caption
username this is MILD bc i know y/n can be ruthless 😭😭😭😭😭😭
landonorris "in love" alright.
-> yourusername IT'S FOR THE AESTHETIC
username mother and father are fighting i can't take this what tye fyxk
username 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username mother slays everyday just saying
username no bc if y/n ever said ihy to me i would give up just a thought
lilymhe pretty bitch
-> yourusername u sure that's not u?????
username i REALLY hope she's at the next gp
-> username no bc the way max and her meeting would definitely be more entertaining than the race itself
username NOT THE SONG LYRICS WHAT HAVE U PLANNED
-> username oh fuck that broke my heart what the fuck
username missing my man max in the comments section being a whipped bitch so bad ://////
carmenmmundt can't wait to see you darling 🤍
-> yourusername counting down the seconds omg i missed u!!!!!!
username y/n's manager has her on lockdown i can tell 💀💀💀
-> username with what she said at her last show i wouldn't be surprised
landonorris the post has reached the target and the target is currently eating ice cream while singing your songs
-> yourusername OH OKAY
-> yourusername good to know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
username she's so pretty it's not fair wtf
username the caption omg
-> username it's SO mild compared to what i was expecting tbh 💀
username slay
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maxverstappen1 it's all better now
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername and i swear to god i'd kill you if i loved you a less hard
13,728 comments
username SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
username OH MY GOD
username IS THAT MAX WHATCTHEBFUCK
username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING HER EX BOYFRIEND
username GIRL 😭😭😭😭 get up
username this is INSANE
username MOTHER?????? WHAT IS THIS??????
danielricciardo the most stressful week of my life if we're being for real
-> yourusername u can send m*x the therapy bill
-> maxverstappen1 don't. i did not agree to that.
username HER SONG LYRICS OH MY GOD
username SHE WROTE THIS SONG FOR MAX 😭😭😭😭😭😭
username okay but like. are we SURE that's max?????
-> username i simply refuse to believe that it's someone else so yes. that IS in fact max.
username OKAYYYYYYY
username did NOT see this coming in a thousand years
username obviously VERY happy for them but y/n censoring max's name is so fucking hilarious like
-> yourusername babe it's m*x
-> username my bad ur absolutely right it's m*x
-> maxverstappen1 this is bullying
username DID HE PUT A RING ON IT WHATXTHEBFUCK
-> username NO BC THAT WOULD MAKE SM SENSE
username so i lost SLEEP over nothing????????
maxverstappen1 nice pants
-> yourusername thanks they would look better on ur floor
-> maxverstappen1 say less
-> username i think i just died whatcthebfuxk
-> username oh they're GOOD now
username imagine they just drop engagement photos out of the blue then what.
-> yourusername imagine lol
-> username WHAT DOES THIS MEAN
username i just know y/n's eating up every moment of this chaos
-> maxverstappen1 demons thrive in chaos so
-> yourusername well! it was nice to reconcile for a couple days, goodbye now.
username im crying whayctrhbfcuk
landonorris mother father
-> yourusername child
-> maxverstappen1 no
-> username ah yes the four family members mother father child and no
username THE HEART THE EVERYTHING THEM
username they STILL don't follow eachother LMFAO
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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months
Note
okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁
THIS IS SUCH A MESS but i hope you get my point</33
Um yeah so, absolutely. Some angst for you indeed. I love a convoluted and angsty fight, especially whenever someone is arguing in circles with someone else because they're both just so passionate but angry, anyways, heheh, enjoy!!
WC: 1.5k
TW: Arguing, mentions of violence, mentions of prison, mentions of guns, honestly if you watched CM then that is your TW.
“I just want to know why you’ve been so distant lately. I mean, this is the first time I’m speaking with you one on one in over a week, and it’s because I manage to catch you in the office at nine fucking pm Y/n.”
"So what do you want me to say, Spence? What could I possibly have to say to you? I'm pretty sure Jennifer said everything there is to say."
This caused Spencer to lose all of the oxygen in his body. It froze up. You weren’t supposed to know what JJ had said, no one was supposed to know what JJ had said. 
You and Spencer were in the bullpen of the BAU. Luckily for both of you, since it was so late, no one else was there. Neither of you were extremely public when it came to your relationship, which meant neither of you would have chosen to have this conversation fight in a public place, but no one else was around.
I want you to say something you're afraid to say. Something you'd never tell anybody. And you better make it good. Cause if it's not, it's going to be the last thing you ever say. What's it gonna be?
“How did you know about that?” He whispered. 
“JJ asked Garcia to go through the footage, apparently she wanted to make sure no one could ever access the audio from it.”
"Y/n I--" Spencer closed his eyes, his jaw set. He didn’t even know what to say at this point. You had both clearly made up your minds about this, yet neither of you wanted to see the carnage, the outcome of it all. So, instead, you chose to stand in the middle of the bullpen, fighting against one another.
Fighting for one another.
"I just don't understand why you're so upset about this."
“Spencer–you didn’t even tell me about it, I had to find out about it from Penelope, and who knows who else she told. You were afraid to tell me, yet that giant genius brain of yours can’t, oh I don't know, comprehend just a teeny tiny little bit why this makes me upset?" For the millionth time this evening, you scoffed. 
Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I'll kill him.
"Y/n--"
Spence, I've always loved you. I was just too scared to say it before, and now things are really just too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.
"Fuck Spencer I have been in love with you since I first fucking joined this team." You gasped out. The air around your head got thinner and felt dizzying like you were floating through the air now that this was off your chest. "And I loved you when you asked me on a date. I loved you through Emily's death. I loved you when you asked me to move in with you. I loved you through when Morgan left the team. I loved you through Hotch leaving. I loved you through fucking Cat Adams. I loved you even after I came home one night and you were making out with her against our fucking door. I loved you through every single case and every single flaw. I loved you when you fucking relapsed a few years ago. I even loved you when you went MIA for weeks and then found out you were in a fucking Prison. And I still fucking love you now. But, instead of being together, you asked for a break."
"That's not fair..." He whispered.
"What? Respecting you and your boundaries? Knowing that you needed time to readjust after you had been released, and believing in your promise that once you felt ready to try a relationship again you'd come to me and talk to me about it? And then watching as you fall for JJ all fucking over again? With your stupid fucking glances. This isn't a goddamn tv show Reid, I can see when you both stare at one another across the room, I can see it."
"We don't.."
"You do. You both do. And then, you tell me that Jennifer fucking Jareau is willing to make her last words the fact that she has always loved you and has always been in love with you, and you---" Your voice froze, the sound cutting out. You looked straight at Spencer, not caring about the tears running down your cheeks. You watched as his hand twitched up. When the two of you were dating, Spencer used to wipe away every single of your tears. But now he wouldn't even lift his hand.
"I--what."
You took another breath, trying to calm down, and really think through your words. "This woman who has been your best friend for over a decade just fucking confessed her love for you, in a life-or-death situation, and you're telling me, that she just fucking made it up, pulled it out of her ass, or at least is telling you that she did and now the two of you are going to act like everything is normal and okay?"
"Y/n..."
"You were in love with her for years Spencer. And now, all of a sudden she confesses her love to you, and that changes nothing?"
"No, Y/n, it doesn't. It changes nothing. Does it hurt a bit? Yes. Does it change the fact that I love you? No." Spencer was trying to keep his voice level, hoping you'll continue to match his volume since he didn't want anyone to potentially stumble by and hear your argument. His hand reached for your wrist, but you couldn't bear to feel his skin against yours.
This caused you to let out a water laugh, tears sliding into your mouth, ugly but pouring down your cheeks. A waterfall of grief in all of its rawest forms.
"You still love me."
"Why-Why is that funny."
"I have been waiting to hear those words since you walked out of that fucking prison and the first time I hear it in years, it's because you're trying to justify loving someone else."
"That's not true."
Make it a million and one, you scoffed.
"I have loved you since the moment you first walked through those doors. You were in a pale blue pair of pants, and a black sweater--I remember it because Emily complimented the pants. I spend my whole life loving you and manage to never fully give you every single piece of love I have because there's simply not enough time in the world. I would kill for you. I would go to prison all over again if it meant you would be okay in this world." Spencer ran a hand through his hair, his voice strained. But his eyes never left yours. "Last week, when that unsub had his gun against your head, I fired before he even spoke, not because I assessed it was the right time or whatever fucking excuse I gave to Emily. I fired that bullet because if you died in front of me, I'd......The only thing I was thinking about the entire fucking time JJ and I were stuck in that room was how the fuck I was going to be able to tell you I love you one last time because I wasn't fucking smart enough to take my chance and say it to you every single day."
Your chest was heaving, but you didn't move towards him. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel real.
Spencer was able to take your hand in his, enclosing it between both of his, trying to get you to look at him. "I should have told you the moment I was ready to try a relationship again, but I thought you...I thought you had moved on because I wasn't worth waiting for."
This caused you to laugh again, eyes red from crying. "Don't fucking start with that shit Spencer.''
"I'm telling the god's honest truth."
"I waited for you throughout all of Prison. I waited for you through Maeve. I am still pathetically standing right fucking in front of you, waiting for you to hopefully realize that you still love me."
He kissed your hand. "And I don't deserve you at all for it."
"Do you still love her?"
"Y/n."
"Answer the question, Spencer. Or I'm done. I-I can't do this any longer, watching you....the way she looks at you just--"
Spencer pulled you into his arms, enclosing your body in his arms and kissing the side of your head. "I have always, and will always, love you Y/n Y/l/n. And I want to spend the rest of our lives proving to you that I would choose you, I want you, over and over again."
“That’s not an answer Spencer.” You whispered, rigid in his arms.
“I-I.” He closed his eyes. “I did. And I still do love her, but not like that. I haven’t been i-in love with her since the moment you walked through those doors.”
Spencer felt the weight of your head against his shoulder as you finally conceded and hugged him back, tightly. “Let's go home.” He muttered into your head, waiting patiently for you to hum in agreement. 
Neither of you moved though. You both stood there, locked eternally in the other’s embrace, enjoying the peace you felt for the moment, even though tomorrow was a new day, where you would have to sort through how you really felt about all of this. 
But tonight, you stood with your arms around your love, forever.
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writeroutoftime · 2 months
Text
pawns in your game
pairing: cassian x fem!reader
summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger
warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)
words: 1.3k
a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)
tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)
oOoOo
"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.
Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.
"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.
Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.
"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."
Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.
"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"
"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.
You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."
"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"
Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."
"But can't you just-"
"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."
A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.
Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.
oOoOo
The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.
Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.
Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.
"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.
Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 
Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 
His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 
"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 
oOoOo
Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 
"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.
Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.
Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 
"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.
Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.
"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.
"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"
Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.
As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.
One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.
Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."
"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.
The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.
With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.
"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.
oOoOo
And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.
The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.
He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.
It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.
What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.
With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.
"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.
Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.
"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.
"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."
"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.
"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."
Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"
"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"
"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"
"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.
"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.
"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.
With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.
part 2
oOoOo
a/n: part 2?
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ooffmlsorry · 6 months
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One Piece Men Dealing with a Dangerously Reckless S/O
context: by dangerously reckless I mean someone who never has a second thought about throwing themselves in harms way and doesn't care what it does to them
t/w: passive suicidality, self harm? (better safe than sorry) angst. Mentions of blood, injury, and death
LAW
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It'd probably lead to a big argument where he threatens to kick you off his crew because losing you would legitimately be the death of him. He can't lose anymore people he loves to violence. When Bepo tells Law you didn't even hesitate to plunge into a thicket of razor wire to help your crew mates escape, it doesn't read as admirable to him. It reminds him too much of himself on Spider Miles. After he gets your side of the story, which pretty much confirms it, he doesn't talk to you at all while he cleans the mud and blood from your skin and stitches the slashes that cover you from head to toe. Normally, even if you've fallen asleep, he talks you through your treatment, but not after your stunts. He's that...scared? Angry? Distraught might be the right word. Every time you do something like this, he's speechless because his thoughts are racing with the reality of losing you. He feels sick to his stomach. On nights like these, he doesn't know whether to sleep far away from you or hold you so close to him you can't breathe.
LUFFY
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At first, Luffy doesn't care. He has the utmost faith in his crew, and they put themselves in harms way all the time! Getting injured is just being a pirate sometimes! That's pre-timeskip. Post-timeskip Luffy still has a lot of faith in his crew and a lot of faith in his ability to protect his crew, but he's...different. He believes things are always going to work out no matter what and if they don't he'll make them, but sometimes he wakes up in the middle of night and stares at you, tracing all the scars you've gotten from one fight or another. And then the what-ifs begin to creep in and the nightmares start. After literally diving into a sea king to retrieve Nami's log pose and Chopper has patched you up yet again, you wake up to Luffy calling out for you in his sleep, sweat dampening his hair and his face twisted in fear. You soothe and shush him until his breathing evens out, but he holds you tighter still. It's not in his nature to "bench you" or doubt your strength just because he's in love with you. That would be controlling and doubting you, and he would never do that. But that doesn't mean Zoro and Sanji don't take notice, even if Luffy won't say anything they make it extremely hard for you to pull off any careless "heroics."
ZORO
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Much like Luffy, Zoro doesn't think much of it for a while for the same reason. This is the guy that was completely ready to cut his own legs off, after all. But that doesn't mean it doesn't concern him, especially because you don't seem to have a rhyme or reason for all the shit you pull. And he would say something to you about it. Maybe not directly after you jumped straight into Marine gunfire to cover a little girl, he just wants you to be alive at that point. But after days of taking care of you as your wounds slowly heal, after he's certain you're not going anywhere this time, he'd make sure the two of you are somewhere alone and quiet to talk. As far as Zoro's concerned not going down without a fight is completely fine, dying for your dream isn't considered giving it up, but acting like it isn't a possibility is stupid. And he'd tell you as much. For most of this he wouldn't be able to look at you, just because if he does fear is going to take hold of him, but for that last bit he would. Zoro would search your eyes hoping you understand what he's saying. He'll tie you to the ship if he has to, he'd do anything if it saves you from being so stupid as to forfeit your dreams.
SABO
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Dying for the cause is par for the course. It's a grim reality that Sabo begrudgingly accepts, although he does have a bit of youthful naivety that it won't ever happen to anyone. He won't ever believe the revolution isn't worth it, but you do make him question it for the first time. He loves you so much he has to compare you to the whole world for a moment, and that's one of the worst thoughts he's ever had. Because the whole world still wins. The guilt would eat him alive until he blows up (somewhat literally) at you for drinking the last of a rare poison to keep it out of the enemy's hands. Angry tears roll down Sabo's cheeks. When he yells at you, he's shaking with anger and fear. It's not up to him, but he doesn't object when you're completely benched while you recover and for a little longer after that. It takes a while for him to no longer angry and scared out of his mind, but once he is he's back to himself. If can visit you every day he will. He has hope for the world's future, and hope for yours too. He's not leaving either behind.
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strawberryya · 8 months
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notice me!
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pairing: jihoon x reader
synopsis: Your boyfriend has a hectic life, but he usually has at least a little time to spare for his girlfriend. Now it has been two months since he last spent some alone time with you and you're losing your mind just a little over it... luckily, angry make-up sex can solve any problem!
word count: 2.1k
genre/cw: smut, angry sex, also make-up sex, established relationship, feeling neglected in relationship and bad ways of handling said feeling, unprotected sex, manhandling, light choking, fem reader, musician/producer! woozi.
rating: 18+
a/n: I had a moment a couple weeks ago where I wrote this whole thing in one hour in the middle of the night, and then I forgot about it and now I'm in shock just a little bit... anyhow, yay angry sex with wooziiii
network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main
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You watched your boyfriend of two years looking at his phone, scrolling mindlessly across whatever app he found more interesting than his girlfriend sitting on the other end of the couch. You were barely wearing anything, a large t-shirt barely covering the sexy lingerie you had put on for tonight. 
“Jihoon, it’s been two months.” 
You wanted him to notice you. He had barely been home at your shared apartment for weeks. You knew his work was demanding, and that he gave it his all no matter what. But you have been feeling neglected lately. He had been coming home late, crashing on the couch instead of sleeping in your bed. Only giving you a chaste kiss before running off to work the next morning with a groggy “Sorry I missed dinner last night,” as a greeting. 
He hadn’t touched you in two months. You had counted the days, and after three weeks you were wondering if he wasn’t stressing too much about the latest album. After six weeks you had been feeling too horny for your own good, and your toys weren’t fulfilling your needs anymore. You wanted to feel him again. It didn’t matter how many times you came. It didn’t hit the spot. After two entire months of him being abstinent, you had begun getting snarky at the smallest things he did wrong. 
Jihoon looked up from his phone at your statement. He carelessly scratched his chin, making your pussy clench at the memory of those perfect hands being all over your body once upon a time. “Two months? Of what?” 
“Of you acting like a damn nun,” you said, dead serious. 
“A nun?!” He gasped out. 
“Yes! A nun!” You shouted back at him. 
He looked you over, sitting at the other end of the couch, dolled up more than usual and staring at him as if he had offended yuo great grandmother by existing. Then it seemed to click in his mind. “Oh,” was all he said.
Two months? Had it been that long? He knew very well that he had been resisting his urges, but he had managed for two entire months? He had been so busy with the new album, he had been staying late at the studio every day and waking up rushing back to the studio to put the new ideas he got during the night into reality. Two months without sex, and a pissed off girlfriend because of it. 
“I’m sorry?” 
You looked at him like he was an equation, mouth open just a bit as you stared at him in shock. “You’re sorry? What the fuck does that mean?” He was so clueless, you thought as you watched the dumb face he was making. (You still wanted that stupid handsome face of his to eat you out until you cried, but that was besides the point.)
Jihoon knew he had fucked up, you were pissed off and picking a fight, and he hadn’t made it better by not even knowing that he hadn’t slept with you in two whole months. 
“Do you even care? Because you don’t seem to care one bit about it since you didn’t even know! Do you not like me anymore? Are you not attracted to me anymore? Are you in love with someone else? Why the fuck would you go and cheat on me?!”
He stared at you in complete surprise. Cheating? “Hold up- hold up! What are you talking about?!” He said, flabbergasted at the way you seemed to have drawn the most far-fetched conclusions to this problem you could’ve possibly thought of. “I’ve been busy with the comeback! Please, baby, why are you acting crazy?” 
He shouldn’t have said that, he knew it the second the word left his perfectly plump lips. 
“Crazy? Did you just call me crazy? You haven’t seen crazy, you fucking asshole!” You shouted as you stormed out of the room. You were packing your bags, if he didn’t want to be with you anymore you wouldn’t be the one to stop him from moving on and sleeping with whoever else he wanted. Because it sure as hell wouldn’t be you after he had just called you crazy for noticing that he wasn’t interested in you anymore. 
“What are you doing?? Why are you messing up the apartment? Are you leaving?” he shouted, seemingly surprised that you didn’t feel like staying in an apartment that he was hellbent on making a girlfriend-free zone. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking leaving,” you grunt, shoving some shirts into your bag. You wouldn’t be able to grab it all but at least you could make it with the stuff you were throwing into it for a while. Y9ou could always borrow your friends’ stuff until you could get back all your clothes. “You’re pissing me off and I don’t wanna hate you.”
Jihoon was by the bedroom door now, hands pushing his hair out of his face as he watched you angrily packing your bags. How had he fucked up so badly that his girlfriend wanted to leave him like this? 
“Hate me? Baby, I really don’t know what I did to mess up this bad…” 
Of course, he didn’t understand, because apparently, your boyfriend was a freaking master at staying “pure”. He hadn’t even spent a single thought on you and what he could do with you. He only cared about his music. And you wouldn’t be the one to stand in his way if thats how he truly felt. 
“You don’t know?! Look at me Jihoon!” You threw the t-shirt off your body in an angry fit, making your boyfriend’s eyes widen. “I’ve been waiting for you to notice me, to care even a bit about me- about us- for months!! And tonight, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m losing my mind because you won’t fuck me, how stupid is that?” You nearly sobbed as you made it clear that you were frustrated in more than one way. You were so mad at him, and still, you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked so hot even now, his long black hair falling in pretty curls around his face and his lips shiny and pink. He looked so kissable it was like he was teasing you just by existing. 
“You got me all addicted to your cock and then you fucking left me to go through some kind of twisted withdrawal.” 
He gulped, his adam's apple moving in his throat, you didn’t even care to look at him anymore, you were angrily throwing your shit into the bag on the bed yet again, bent over and flaunting the tiny piece of fabric that tried it’s best to cover your ass. “You don’t even care,” you rumbled as you stuffed more things into the bag. He took in the way the lace set hugged your curves deliciously, he had been so busy with everything he hadn’t even noticed his own cravings. He had ignored it all for so long. 
“Shut up.”
His voice was deep, and commanding. Your breath caught in your throat, surprise and need mixing in an arousing blend that went straight to your head. “Excuse me?” Your movements paused completely. When you heard his footsteps approaching you hastily you looked at him, his gaze was darkened, and your core clenched around nothing as he pulled the bag from your grasp. Throwing it on the ground before he pushed your barely clothed body into the bed. 
“You think I don’t fucking care anymore just because you haven’t gotten dick in a couple weeks? Are you that desperate to be stretched like a little whore?” He growled in your ear, his bulge evident in the way he pressed against your ass. “I care, and I see you. So shut up.” 
You gasped at his harsh movements, neediness soaking your panties in record time. God, you were pathetic. 
“I haven’t eaten, I haven’t slept, and I sure as hell haven’t let myself even think about this sweet pussy of yours. I’ve been denying myself it all. But you’re right…” his hand pressed against your throat where you laid face down on the bed, “I’ve been neglecting you. You wanna know why? It’s because I knew that if I so much as looked at you, or held you in my arms while you slept so innocently, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything but fuck your tight little pussy all day and night.” His growling voice set off all kinds of sparks in your core. You needed him, now. 
You pushed your ass up against him, eating a groan from your boyfriend. “Such a little slut,” he mumbled, letting go of your throat and pulling himself back from you completely. You were dizzy from the hold around your throat, his perfect hands remembering just the way you liked to feel them around you. You were about to whine when his touch left your body when you heard the familiar shuffling of his clothes falling off his body. You wanted to see it, take his form in properly after all these weeks. But he was faster, pushing you back down against the bed before you got up. 
His erection pressed against your heat, making you moan as he prodded against the soaked fabric covering your entrance. 
“Jihoon, please,” you mewled, wiggling underneath his firm body. 
“Wanna shut up and let me fuck you then since you’re so fucking needy?” 
“Please, yes! Anything! Please fuck me!” You almost cried as you pleaded with him. 
“Sobbing over cock, you really are such a dirty girl for me.” He groaned as he let his pretty hands smooth over one of your asscheeks, smacking down hard and leaving a burning sting after him. Even that felt good. You needed him more than you had ever needed anything in your life. 
You felt him pull the sticky fabric from your core, pushing it aside in favor of pushing the head of his hard cock against your messy pussy. “I’m about to drown in you later tonight, just you wait.” He whispered before pushing past your entrance, slipping inside, your walls lubing his cock up as he entered. He ignored the way you were so tight it almost hurt to push all the way inside, your moaned pleas for him to go deeper, and the way you were gripping the sheets while he pushed all of himself inside of your dripping heat enough of a reason to push through. It had been so long since he had felt your walls gripping around him that he could’ve spilled his seed into you right then and there. 
He pulled himself together soon enough, thrusting into you at a brutal pace. Your ass which you had pushed up to meet his hips at first had been completely overpowered by the sheer force he was fucking you into the mattress with. You were coming for the first time within minutes. Screaming and sobbing as you finally came around him. He continued, repeating to you what a good toy you were, and how good of a girl you had been for holding out for him this long. 
When you were moaning again, closing in on a second orgasm he told you to come again. Lifting your ass up to balance you on your knees and chest, one of his arms wrapping around your hip to reach your clit, pressing down on it while he let his cock slip in and out effortlessly. Your arousal dripped down your thighs. You came undone and sobbed as he continued to overstimulate your abused cunt. 
He continued fucking you until he couldn’t take it anymore, his own orgasm crashing into him with such force it knocked the breath from his lungs. 
“That was one hell of an apology,” you said, breathless and still leaking cum, exhausted after having all your pent-up frustrations released all at once like this. 
Jihoon chuckled, a sound you had missed these past weeks as well. He really had been unusually absent in your life. It wasn’t just about the sex, you had missed him a lot. “I’m sorry for not being around as much,” he said, dragging a gentle hand over your back. You hadn’t had the energy to move a once from the position he had dropped your hips from once he had pulled out. 
“I just missed you, I’m sorry for lashing out.” 
“Don’t worry about it, just… next time you should just ask me to fuck you instead of threatening to leave me.”
You were embarrassed now, you had acted like a complete maniac, but my god - if that’s how he fucked a maniac, you wanted to stay crazy for the rest of eternity. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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thelordfool · 3 months
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HELP ME PLEASE!!!!!
Long story short: I'm unemployed and will not, unlike what I originally thought, qualify for unemployment benefits.
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Please read the readmore for additional context on why I'm unemployed. This post is basically a continuation/update/redo of this post. I'm suffering a sickness with no medicine the past week, applied for almost 100 jobs the last two weeks, am disabled/queer/nonbinary/tired of ebegging. I'm also in the negatives in my bank account because my car payment came out, so I need to get that covered.
pp/vm/ca
$250/$1151.51
i need at least $511.51 of this by the first. please spread if you're financially unable to help, every person this reaches helps! here's the breakdown of the costs: $640 - car payment + late fees $380 - rent $131.51 - negative amount in bank currently
Oh hey thanks for stopping by to read this annoying tale of woe and being angry at capitalism. Prepare for wall of text.
I once had two jobs. The first job, at a chain restaurant, was a bit of a clique-y experience where I was working my damndest to be the best bartender they ever had. I still have all the cocktails memorized. However, I continually faced discrimination in the form of severe misgendering, no matter how often I corrected them. I was also set up for failure. Usually, when someone gets hired for a position, there's some amount of training to be done, no matter how experienced they are, right? I was going in nearly entirely inexperienced into the role. I knew how to make cocktails, sure, and was and still am very good with people and selling. But I was trained for two days. Two. Then, on my first night alone (a Friday), I was watched by one of the bigwigs at corporate who saw every little flub and failure. This caused a demotion-ish. I was demoted to barback but was allowed the same privileges. Until their next visit. That upset the hell out of me - I was well trained by that point and could do it all, with one hand tied behind my back. I digress. It was about 2 months following my demotion when i finally walked out. A new bartender had been hired and she thought I was being a total creep by looking at a ticket that had just come in. She stormed off to report me to the manager who, even after hearing my side where I had asked her if there was anything on the ticket that I could grab, said that I "needed to communicate better," and "you should be learning from her," and "you're a grown man, you should know better." I don't think I need to explain why that was so upsetting.
But I didn't report them, because I just wanted to be done with it. I was also working another bartending job, and everythign was literally perfect other than the hours, honestly. I loved the product the distillery made, I loved the people I worked with, and most of all: I had my own regulars. Last month, they hired a new hospitality director, who announced there would be some restructuring, including getting rid of servers while also making a full dinner menu to serve alongside drinks. I said nothing of it, despite my disagreements, and she assured us all that no one would lose their jobs, but just moved into different roles. We all kinda grumbled about it, and I told her that under no circumstances would I work back of house. Easy peasy. Till it wasn't, and I came home to a voicemail while on break with my partner that I'd been let go due to the restructuring. So much for no one losing their jobs, right? I hadn't been the only victim of this. I have my suspicions as to why the new hospitality director did these things, but I've no energy to throw around conspiracies. All I know is that I was shafted by both of these places and I'm tired of being broke. I'm applying, still going to fight, and... sigh.
tl;dr (why did you click the readmore?): i left a job due to discrimination and lost another due to company restructuring and i'm tired and sad and aaaaa.
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cleolinda · 10 months
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I'm gonna admit that I got on Twitter like a big ol' dramatic dork last night and said, knowing full well that Elon Musk was doing exactly this, "If he changes the name to X, I'm out, I can't do this anymore."
Not because "X" is doofy and a terrible branding move, although it is, but because he wants to do THIS shit. Yeah, no, I am not hanging around for your global interactivity "everything app" bullshit. You want me to fucking BANK with you? YOU? You just lost about $30B running a platform into the GROUND by FIRING EVERYONE and doing whatever damn thing popped into your head between shitposts? Are you HIGH? I cannot hang around for this "tech king of the world, 420 blaze it lmao" bullshit. I could not stay at my beloved Livejournal after SUP said all the users would be subject to Russian law in 2017. I know The Moment when I see it. I can't do this.
I admit, I might go back every few months and say "Hey, I posted XYZ on any platform but this, please leave this godforsaken place," and I don't want to delete my accounts. I've been on Twitter since 2008, and I have a ton of livetweet threads (on my main and also on an alt for that purpose. Remember that time I livetweeted the Twilight gender-change book? That glorious trainwreck?). I've saved some of them via Thread Reader PDF downloads, but there are still more to get. I don't want to utterly destroy book and TV discussion we did over there.
I haven't used Twitter regularly since maybe 2016 (about the time the post-Gamergate alt-right really moved in), but the conversation and community, decentralized though it was, before that--we're going to lose the last vestiges of that, the way everyone on Reddit was upset about losing the collective knowledge over there. And I'm so fucking angry about it. I'm so angry. I immediately came back here the week he took over last year because I knew, I KNEW, somehow that Twitter would be destroyed. I just thought it would burn down in a smoking heap of rubble, not turned into a shambling tech zombie under a different name. I just. I can't do this anymore.
Also, shut the fuck up, Linda Yaccarino. Just because you can put Elon Musk's nonsense into coherent verbiage doesn't mean "a global social media/marketplace/banking system/walled garden that's basically X-Treme AOL" isn't a fucking nightmare. I hope the EU bans the fuck out of you both. See you in bankruptcy court.
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unreliablesnake · 7 months
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I want you, but… [Ghost x reader (platonic)]
Summary: Ghost doesn’t like to see you date someone else. But when he has the chance to get what he wants, his common sense wins.
Note: We’re all sad bitches in this house (that’s me, I’m the sad bitch) so no happy ending. Ghost, I love you, but you’re an idiot. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
Part 2
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Ghost usually isn’t the jealous type, but with you it takes very little to lose his cool. You’ve never been together, he knew he had no right to be mad at guys who flirted with you, he had no right to be angry with you for letting them, but it still happened sometimes.
One of the new doctors at base who treated your wound was really nice to you. Ghost was there, he volunteered to escort you to sick bay, making sure you didn’t collapse on the way, and when he saw the way the doc was looking at you, the kind, humorous way he was talking to you, he immediately knew what this was all about.
You didn’t seem to mind the attention, in fact you encouraged him by keeping up the playful conversation despite being in pain. Ghost took a hesitant step forward, planning to ask how you were, if he could bring you something, anything that could break the spell you were under, but he changed his mind last minute. He should keep his distance, he had no right to stand in the way.
He had been more irritated lately as he had been before. Johnny’s usual jokes simply went over his head, he didn’t even feel like being around others. You and that doctor got pretty close, pretty fast, and there was nothing he could do to stop this relationship from blooming.
Ghost picked up women for one night only, trying to forget you at least until he was fucking someone else, but all he could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your stupid sense of humor. He missed you, especially when you were both back home and there was no way for him to reach you.
All he could do was stalk you on social media. You barely posted photos of yourself, but when he saw a picture of you and–based on the size of the hand–a man clinking glasses at a bar probably, his heart sank. You were happy with someone else, feeling so confident about the relationship that you were ready to share it with your family and friends.
But then he checked the caption. “Sometimes ‘let’s stay friends’ isn’t an empty promise.”
He sat up in bed and reread the sentence. Did this mean you broke up? Hope filled his heart at the thought, even though he wasn’t sure how this could help him. He was your superior, the two of you getting together would cause a scandal for sure. Price wouldn’t be happy, the others might begin to believe he would play favorites with you, so everything pointed in the direction that you could never be together.
A few weeks later you were back on a mission together, and Ghost didn’t really know what to do. He was nervous around you, always carefully thinking about what to say before opening his mouth.
One evening Soap pulled out a bottle of booze from his bag, inviting the core team for a drink to relax a little. That one bottle turned into two, then three, the number growing because you were having fun together and apparently everyone brought something to drink just in case.
“So what’s with you and that doctor?” Gaz asked out of nowhere, almost causing the lieutenant to choke on his drink.
His eyes were glued to you, and your eyes traveled from one person to another until they locked with his amber ones. “It didn’t work out,” you admitted before turning to Gaz again. “Also, he’s going back to a civilian hospital. Less stress, he said. But I’m not sad or anything.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Soap noted casually as he raised his glass.
Around one in the morning Price told everyone to go to sleep, saying they all needed some rest to sober up. While Price, Soap and Gaz left, you stayed behind with Ghost, your hands folded behind your back as you watched him with an anxious smile. The lieutenant didn’t really know what to say to you, so he decided to remain silent.
Even though he turned his back to you, he could still feel your gaze on him. “What is it?” he asked when he turned around to face you.
You inhaled then exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. But then you took a hesitant step towards him and said, “Are you happy that I broke up with him?”
“Why would I be happy?”
“You liked the photo I posted weeks ago. You know, the one about let’s stay friends. Also, there’s another thing,” you began, but you stopped talking. Ghost raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “Peter told me something that made me think. He said you were giving him death glares ever since he first talked to me in your presence after I got hurt on the field.”
Fuck, he had noticed. It’s not like he tried to hide it, but he sure wasn’t expecting the doctor to pay so much attention to him. What was he supposed to say? That yeah, well, I’m sorry, but he wasn’t good enough for you? In the end he let out a long sigh and put a hand on the back of his neck.
“I hope he didn’t break up with you because of that,” he noted quietly.
You raised an eyebrow at this in question. “What makes you think he was the one who broke up with me? Maybe it was me who let him go.”
“Did you?” You nodded. “Why?”
“Maybe there’s a big, scary guy I would rather spend my time with,” you replied with a playful smile.
Ghost wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt, but he kept his urges under control. When he stepped a little closer to you, you did the same, and eventually you closed the gap between you. He reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, watching as your breath caught in your throat from surprise.
After gulping loudly, you reached out to take his hand. “Was he right? Do you like me, lieutenant?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m your higher-up, it wouldn’t work anyway. Go to sleep,” he told you, even though this was killing him.
He could see the signs. He could pinpoint the exact moment your heart shattered into pieces because of his response. Biting on your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, you nodded and left him standing there, making him hate himself more than ever before.
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rustedhearts · 11 months
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hurt (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)
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summary: steve’s looking to blow off some steam after his first title fight loss, and you tend to him the best you know how.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
♡ the king of ring ♡
tags: make way for steve's ego!, smut, like...accidental size kink idk how that happened honestly, steve's not an official dom b/c we don't do that anymore around here but he's a dom, little bit of blood, more biting!!, bruising.
dallas, texas april 1991
"Goddamn it!"
The door to Steve's dressing room flung open, hurling toward the wall with a resounding bang. You flinched, slowly standing to your feet from your place on the leather couch. You were carted back stage by an assistant a few minutes ago, just as the arena, and all of America, saw the referee raise Steve's opponent's fist in victory—for the first time in his career.
Steve stomped into the room, beat red and dripping sweat. He was practically steaming. Your palms slicked as Big and Mikey trailed in behind him, prepared to do damage control.
"Harrington...it happens—"
"—to amateurs. To losers. Not to me," Steve snapped, voice booming and sharper than a sword. You jumped again when his gloves went flying into the wall.
He flattened his damp hair against his skull, fingers jumping and arms buzzing. You could see it brewing on his face—he was going to explode. His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around the room, he began to pace. Tick, tick, tick. It was only a matter of time before he'd burst.
"It's one loss, Steve," you piped up, stepping toward him to comfort. "It's really not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of—"
"Undefeated, Libby. Y' know what undefeated fuckin' means?"
You felt the strain of muscles in your face, how gravity pulled them downward. Big, hands on his hips and head cocked disapprovingly, glanced at you. It was getting easier to spot the cracks between the pair of you these days.
"Steve," you sighed, gathering his gloves from the floor to place them in his bag. "I'm just saying—"
"—I'm not supposed to fucking lose! And maybe I wouldn't 've, if you did your fuckin' research."
You craned to look over your shoulder, finding Steve's gaze on his coach. Steve had taken a step closer, now toe to toe with a man much larger than him. Big—graced with a name that, in all reality, didn't do the sheer size of him justice—fixed Steve with a steady, unimpressed stare. But the thing about Steve when he was angry? Truly angry, seething, seeing black.
He'd fight anyone just to feel release.
"Come on, man," Big huffed, head shaking.
You zipped up Steve's duffel, sinking down on the couch again to rub your temples. This was going to be a long night.
"He was a switch hitter. Woulda been a good thing to know...don't you think? Huh?" Steve sneered, looking up his nose at his coach.
Big held his hands up in surrender. "These things happen, Harrington—"
"Not. To. Me."
The room fell to a ringing silence. Mikey lingered near the door, anxiously petting his mustache. The paparazzi were waiting, huddled at the end of the tunnel for a snap of Steve, 'The King of the Ring' Harrington's first loss. He had a post-fight conference in forty minutes. The endorsement representatives would be coming by to offer their pitiful condolences that you knew would only enrage him.
"They don't fuckin' happen to me," Steve growled, pounding at his glistening, heaving chest with a gauze-wrapped fist.
Big just shrugged, watching Steve turn to stomp your way. You stood, reaching for his arms. All you wanted was to comfort him, soothe him, bring him back to that grumpy but agreeable Steve you all knew. You'd never seen him like this—because he'd never been like this. He'd never lost.
Big inched forward on one foot, but when Steve was merely stiff and silent in your gentle, stroking touch, the coach backed away toward the door. He was always a little cautious after the incident in New York last year. He didn't like the way Steve grabbed you, and he didn't like the way he kept doing it ever since.
Mikey opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, searching for something to say but too afraid to muster it into words. Steve looked murderous. His huffing and puffing was so loud you worried he'd start to hyperventilate.
"Try to cool it before the cameras start, would you?" Big opened the door, turning to direct a pointed look Steve's way.
Steve, facing you but glaring over your head at the wall, turned sharply toward his coach. "Fuck you."
The door muffled Big's sigh, and you parroted the sound as Mikey disappeared behind him and Steve immediately ripped away from you. Your hands fell to your sides limply, chest squeezing tight.
"Steve—"
"—m' showering."
You took a small step after him toward the showers. "But—"
He stomped off, sneakers slapping on the damp tile. He disappeared around the corner, and you deflated in the center of the dressing room with a frown. When the stream of water hissed, you sank back down on the couch and waited, eyes aching and head pounding, a sour taste like acid in your mouth.
♡ ♡
Steve skipped the press conference. The press would call him a sore loser, his opponent would look like a gracious, genuine fighter, and his endorsements would call Mikey berating and scolding him for his client's actions.
But Steve didn't care. He couldn't face a crowd of reporters and paparazzi as a loser. A failure. He'd face them as a winner, or nothing at all.
They called him The King. His crown was starting to fall. You just wished he could step down from the throne every once in a while.
On the ride home, you reached for his hand and flinched when he flicked yours back into your lap. You searched for his eyes but met only the side of his face. Those hard cheekbones, purpled and blued; that swollen brow bone, torn at the corner and weeping red. His lip was fat and he kept running his tongue over the slit in the righthand corner. You knew he was reveling in the sting, bathing in the pain. He needed it when his fists started shaking like this.
Yet despite the visceral fury physically steaming off him, he was eerily...calm. Calm for Steve, calm for a man with a head as a hot as hell itself.
When Steve was silent like this, you knew a nightmare was brewing.
The car pulled in front of the hotel doors, and Steve yanked your door open with such monstrous force that you worried it would come right off the hinges. Some men had a Midas touch. Steve's was Herculean.
He was silent in the elevator, huffing only short, sharp breaths through his nose. He was silent through the hall, stomping with long, bounding strides. He was silent when he slammed the hotel door after you and tossed his duffel on the velvet chaise lounge near the bar. He was silent as he eased back against the black marble and crossed his arms.
You slowly slipped off your heels, hooking your fingers in the straps to bring them toward your luggage in the other room. You eyed him carefully as you passed him, breezing by in a whiff of sweet, citrusy perfume. The diamonds in your ears flashed his eye with a streak of white, catching the lamplight on the end table.
You were nearly to your destination when his gruff voice cut through the tender quiet.
"C'mere."
You paused, surprised just by the sound of his voice. You turned halfway, digesting his demand. Stern, rigid, empty. It mirrored his expression: emotionless. Your heels dangled near your thigh, fingers curling tighter around the straps.
Steve lifted his chin, eyes rolling away from the floor to fix steady on you. They held that heavy-hooded look you were always wary of. He had his fists tucked under his biceps, enlarging the bulging muscles, protruding the overworked veins. The thin black cotton stretched across his body strained.
Your cheeks flamed and your insides wriggled about the same way they do when he whispers in your ear. You stepped your legs a little closer to each other, tightening between your thighs.
"Steve, I—"
"—come. here."
You held his gaze, face half shadowed by the dark side of the room, brightened by the gentle lamplight on the other. His chest rose and fell steadily, and yours struggled with every inhale. He didn't twitch an inch, didn't move a muscle. The solidity to his steadiness always unnerved you. Right now, it made you want to take a bite of his bicep, where the skin was warm and firm and you knew it would taste like salty sweat.
Right now, the way he was staring at you like you had no other choice but to come to him—like he knew you would listen to him because he had such a deep, clawing, biblically powerful hold over you—made you want to devour him.
You dropped your heels on the carpet, where they landed with a muffled thud. You took small, breezy steps toward him. You felt like you were gliding. You felt so much smaller than you were, so minuscule and tiny under his pinning stare. You felt like he could cup you into his hands and crush you, and something about that thought made you tingle.
You came to a stop when your toes brushed his boots, sweaty sneakers discarded in his gym bag. Palms sticky at your sides, fingers grasping for the hem of your black dress, you tipped your head back to meet his gaze when he slipped one hand from under his arm and tucked it under your chin. Propped between his index and thumb, you let him tug you closer—urge you with just the gentlest of pressure. Your stomach pressed against his belt, and the way his head tipped to gaze down at you made your breath hitch.
Still resting against the marble, Steve seemed cool and eased as he bent to meet your mouth. You trembled on the tops of your toes, too impatient to wait for him to meet you, too desperate to find his lips and taste them. He'd never tell you, but he found it sweet, how mindlessly eager you got for even the smallest of his affections.
Your eyes sank closed when your mouths touched. Gently at first, but with an inch from Steve, his mouth molded against yours with a firmness most like his usual affections. A firmness unyielding, leaving no room for breath and no space for escape. But you were happily pliant to his hand spreading to hold your jaw in his wide palm, nearly sighing in relief when he finally switched from impassively cool to the Steve you knew:
Forceful. Mean. Rough.
His tongue swept your bottom lip like the tickle of a feather, though your giggle became a strangled whimper when his spare hand came to gather the hair at the nape of your neck. Free from confines and soft from hotel shampoo, it was a welcome feeling in his palm, and like he couldn't stop himself from reaching for more of it, he yanked. Fist curled tight against your scalp at the back of your head near your neck, he tugged just once—hard.
You popped away from his mouth with a wet smack and a scratchy whine, catching flashes of striped wallpaper before his mouth attached to your neck and sent you flying into blurriness. You held onto him for dear life, hands leaving splotchy white marks on his biceps. And just as you suspected: they were hot and soft, stiff and massive.
He latched onto the column of your throat with a suction like a vacuum, and you caught glimmers of starlight as he lapped and nipped. His teeth scraped the wet mark when he pulled away, and your body gave a convulsing shiver that, this time, made him exhale a chuckle against your skin. His nose slid through the slick spit, gliding across your throat and up your chin, brushing your cheek when he met your mouth again. His hand returned to your jaw to squeeze, the other still firmly planted in your hair. Your scalp began to buzz in a way that felt like a dead tingle.
The kiss was delicate this time. Careful, precise, like he was worried he'd break you. But Steve never worried about breaking you. He liked you that way. He loved how much you needed him to make sense of you.
Steve slowly pulled back, waiting until your eyes fluttered open and blinked at him with slow, breathless beats before rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen mouth. His own seemed a little larger, and as he tipped his head toward the light, you realized his lip had split open again with the force of his kiss. Your tongue immediately sought the remnants on your mouth, relieved to locate the metallic taste just past your bottom lip on your chin.
Steve's lip twitched at that.
"On the bed, baby." His voice was so soft that you were sure you'd fabricated it.
But then he let go of your hair and dropped his hands to his sides, and before he could blink in that expectant, impatient way, you spun around and hurried toward the bed. You were on your knees and about to reach for your zipper when Steve caught your wrists. It was the smack of skin on skin that made you freeze, catching his eye to find it empty again.
"Ah-ah," he scolded gruffly. "Hands down. I'll do it."
He released you and you obeyed, lowering your hands to your sides. Steve inched closer, and your head met his chest as he curled over the front of you to find the back. You inhaled quietly, searching for his scent. Muddled soap and heavy sweat, a cigarette smoked in the lot on the way to the cab. You brought your hands to his stomach and slipped them under his skirt, sweeping them across his muscular sides. He twitched, chuckling deeply despite himself against your neck. Your zipper snicked as it escaped your spine and fell to your tailbone, and your dress pooled in your lap as Steve stood tall again.
You tipped your head back to gaze at him, cheeks swollen with heat and lip caught between your teeth. Your hands were still under his shirt, still gripping him like a toy. He gave you it, pulling his shirt over his head with a tug of the back collar. It flew across the room in a dash of black fabric, and then you were gazing at his lean-cut muscles peppered with black and blue and a few fading greens. His stomach flexed when you brought your fingers to circle the nearest bruise, a grunt balling in his throat.
You returned both hands to his sides, right above his belt. Leaning forward on your knees, you pressed your mouth to the warm patch of skin where blood pooled and painted him colorful. You puckered a gentle kiss. Steve swallowed, jeans tightening. Mouth still pressed against him, you lifted your eyes to gauge his expression and he felt like he could burst.
His hands slid into your hair, pushing your head back with a grip on both sides. You rubbed your thumbs into his muscles, massaging the strain.
"Does it hurt?"
He eased his grip on the right side of your face and brushed your hair behind your ear. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles, head cocking toward his shoulder. The scabs of a bare-knuckle practice scratched the skin on your face in the nicest way. He still smelled like blood.
"I like it to," he said.
You pushed off on your heels, nose brushing his chin as you inched closer to his height. He slid your hair over your shoulder to bare your neck, placing the breeze of his knuckles there.
"Me too."
Steve's eyes snapped away from your neck toward your own, a brief flash of surprise seeping through the brutish void. When you gnawed on your lip and danced your fingers over the firm leather of his belt, he let the surprise slip away as swiftly as it came.
In its place came the animalistic need to tear you apart.
He pushed your hands away without a word, and you sank back down to your heels on the mattress, watching with round, welled up eyes as he undid his belt. The buckle clinked and hung loose at his pelvis. The zipper snicked. The denim of his jeans whooshed down his legs. In only his boxers, tight against him and leaving nothing to the imagination, he resumed his hold on your face to direct your attention back to his eyes.
He pulled at the sleeve of your dress hanging limply in your lap. "Off."
You made quick work of discarding the fabric, sliding it down your legs and throwing it away. Steve snapped your bra strap next, and you bent your arms behind your back to unhook the band. All he had to do was flicker his eyes toward your panties for you to remove those, too.
When you were naked, you waited a beat. A moment of such palpable silence that you were certain he'd hear your heart beating. With the way your blood started rushing to your ears, pumping with such forceful gushes and thumps, you could barely hear anything over it yourself.
Then you reached for his bulge, aching and waiting, unable to contain yourself. Once more he grabbed your wrist, holding your touch away from him. You reached with the other hand, happy to play his game. He grabbed that one, too, and soon he had you right where he wanted.
Though, not quite.
He slammed you against the mattress on your back. Pinned by his hold on your arms, flattened by his weight pressing down on you. Your heart moved to your throat, throbbing wildly. Your legs instinctually parted to make room for him between them.
Steve searched between your eyes, bouncing between left and right, inhaling your every exhale. When he saw nothing but bliss, he slid your arms above your head and crossed your wrists together. Gripping them in one big palm, he used the other hand to mark a path down your side that had you squirming and shivering. You giggled when he circled your navel, only to gasp when he swept two fingers down your pelvis.
He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew every route to take. He knew the shortcuts that would bring you to your fastest peak. He knew the long, winding paths that would make you whine and cry and beg him to cut you a break.
He knew you.
Just like you knew him, and how much he needed to be the biggest in the room. How much he needed this power over you, this control over you. Sometimes, he traveled too far. Sometimes, your favorite thing in the world was when he took over the wheel.
You wanted his control. You needed it.
Steve gently guided the tips of those two fingers between your legs, pushing just gently past the warm, squishy barrier. You sucked him in, mouth unhinging with another gasp when he sank the length of his fingers in entirely. The grip you had on him was tight, and your thighs were already shaking when he brought his thumb to your clit, beating and pulsing with want for his attention.
"You like it to hurt," he whispered, eyes sliding briefly toward your bare chest before your eyes again.
You bobbed your head, face so hot it hurt. "Yes."
"Do you want it to hurt, angel?"
"Please."
Steve didn't let you wait, and for this you were grateful. His hair tickled your cheek, his breath fanned your neck, and then his mouth was clamping onto the patch of tender muscle between your shoulder and neck. His teeth sank in, delivering a dull sting that made you shriek. He pulled away when you began to pant.
He moved his mouth to your breast, fingers loosening around your wrists. He sank into the squishy fat, gathering a chunk of it between his teeth. It stung a little sharper, hurt a little better. You cried out this time, and he pumped his fingers in a gentle push and pull as he moved to the other breast. You could barely suck in a breath.
Wet patches caught gusts of cool air as he maneuvered over your body, covering you in his mouth and leaving you with his teethmarks to prove it. He released your wrists, but your head was so fuzzy and full of air that you didn't even think to move them. Steve wanted them there. You wanted what Steve wanted.
Steve clamped down on your waist, following the valley of your curves. You jerked the other way, body instinctually recoiling. He bit into your hip, then your thigh, then your stomach, then the thin skin just above your pelvis. He had you covered in him and writhing for more, cheeks soaked with tears he was certain you didn't even know were shed.
Face pinched and pooling with red-hot heat, you gasped for air and arched off the bed. Steve's fingers worked deeper between your legs. His thumb rubbed with the firmest pressure in just the right spot. You stomped your feet against the mattress and whined, long and howling.
"Steeeeve."
It burned, he could tell. He could tell by the way you trembled and closed your legs around his hands. He could tell by the way you blinked tears to the ceiling, how you balled your hands into fists—still above your head. You couldn't hold steady and you looked close to nausea.
Steve settled on his knees between your legs, free hand smoothing over your wobbling thigh. He loomed over you with an empty expression, taking in your bare body and his mouth branding nearly every inch of it.
Just as you lifted your back again, hands flying down to grip the mattress in preparation for the orgasm winding a knot behind your navel, Steve ripped his fingers away. You cried—a pitiful, pathetic, snot-filled sob that sliced through the room and made Steve huff.
But Steve had mercy on you. He replaced his fingers with something better, and your cry dwindled to short sniffles as the head of his cock breached your throbbing entrance. He slid your thighs over his, pulled you down until you were forcing half of him in. You howled again, head tipping back, hands reaching for his. You found them on your waist, gripping in a vice.
With slow and steady caution, Steve eased between your legs and mounted over you once more. He propped himself on his forearms, caged on either side of your shoulders to squish your arms against your sides. There was nowhere for you to run. You were inching close to orgasm again already just at the thought.
Steve cupped his palm over the crown of your head and leaned in until his nose brushed your own. His thumb pressed against your forehead, his breath tickled your open, shining mouth. You could see the blood gathering on his lip again. It wobbled there, at the split seam of soft tissue. It glistened and, in your foggy, fucked-out mind: it called to you.
You swept it up with your tongue, sucking with a gentle pull that made Steve's seem cruel. But even that delicate, meek suction had him groaning, had him bucking into you wildly. You released him and he followed the metallic scent of your breath, thanking you for his brief sting with a nip on your bottom lip.
'Hurt me, so I can hurt you.'
And squished under him, taking every assault of teeth and lapping up the blood, you found something in pain you never knew was possible: peace.
A simple, mindless transaction. I hurt you, you hurt me. This is how we say I love you.
Hurt me. So I can hurt you.
Steve pressed your heads together, rutting into you so deep you almost thought you could feel him in your throat. But maybe that was just more tears, pooling and lumping until you couldn't swallow past it. So you released it, weeping in a way that had Steve kissing your hot, sticky cheeks just to ease the hysteria. But he wanted those tears, and he basked in how they tasted on his mouth.
In one final effort, one last turn toward his destination, Steve reared back just enough to bring his hand down on your ass, thigh hitched over his hip to bare it to him. It slammed down with a sharp clap, delivering a sting that spread like wildfire and reverberated through your thighs and spine.
It was exactly what you needed to shatter. It sent you stumbling, clinging to Steve like you'd fall apart without him holding you steady. You weren't entirely sure that was false. You whimpered into his neck, fingers buzzing against his back. You sounded so pathetic, sniffling and hiccuping like that. Steve kissed your jaw and caught a glimpse of the blotchy bruise he left on your neck. You'd be stuck with it for days.
Steve spilled into you, raw and warm, sticky and disgusting. He brushed his nose against your bruise and felt it throb. He ran his thumb over the red shape of his mouth on your hip as he slipped from between your legs. He brushed his hair back against his head and licked the blood from his split lip. His knuckles had broken open and stained the white sheets near your head.
On sore thighs and wobbling knees, Steve settled between your limp legs once more and gazed down at the mess he made. He brushed your hair from your eyes and cradled your cheek. Still catching your breath, you leaned into his hold with heady exhaustion, placing your hand over his. You'd be just as bruised as Steve tomorrow morning, and you'd marvel in the mirror at the pretty colors he painted you with.
And the best thing about it? Steve wasn't hurting anymore. He gave it all to you.
♡ ♡
900 notes · View notes
serawritesthings · 7 months
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AS FAR AS DREAMS GO, second part
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Pairing | arthur morgan x fem! reader Summary | It hadn’t been a dream that night. Despite you and Arthur’s efforts to steer clear from each other, it proves futile as a horrible incident brings you to the realization that your misunderstanding that once hurt so severely paled as you realize you might lose each other forever. Tags |  sexual content 18+ minors dni, angst, fluff, smut, graphic description of violence and wounds Word Count | 17.5k A/N | Hello everyone! It’s about time I posted the second part of this fic, which will be the last part. Sorry for taking craaazy long to write it, but I have been working a lot recently, so it’s been taking me some time to put it together. I had some trouble writing this and didn't really know where I wanted to take the story, so I hope it’s still readable. Thanks for reading! Part one
You saw love for the first time in that cold, desolated cabin. However, the moment was brief when it was swept away from you, too fast for you to bask in the warmth it brought to your untouched heart. Just like the candle lit up the cold house with its all-too-quickly fading light, it had ignited something in you - something you hadn’t felt in a long time. You had been sure it was a good dream finally coming to you, a dream to heal the troubles that plagued your mind endlessly, saving you from the hold your memories have on you. Every touch of Arthur’s fingers had done that, and they had been so kind, so gentle. They grasped every part of you, filling you with a comfort that made you feel completely safe, even though it had felt like the whole world was against you outside of the wooden walls. 
Eyes have a language of their own; you were sure of it. Though it’s hard, you’re always trying to grasp that actions and thoughts may not match. It has made your perception of the world more straightforward, allowing you to see people for what they are. Just like you - but with unique experiences and thoughts. Despite all this, you failed to consider Arthur’s thoughts as you basked in the warmth and safety he emitted to you. That’s why it wounded you to see his eyes speak so differently from the words that left him. He spoke indifferently, but his eyes were angry, ever so stoic. A whisper of shame taints the memories as his now obvious disdain towards you weighs heavily on your mind. You had stepped too far, misunderstanding his signals, turning his kindness into something it wasn’t. 
It was selfish; you knew it. And now, you had to pay the price for being greedy with a man who didn’t even want you–a man who couldn’t even look at you anymore. Was his touch a momentary weakness he now regrets? You fear that in seeking refuge within his arms, you’ve shattered the already fragile bond between you. The small crack you had made in his tall, stony walls once again filled, this time sharp thorns creeping around the surface and prickling your skin as you tried to grasp the edges so you wouldn’t fall off. 
You and Arthur were just like you had been in the beginning, treading carefully around each other like the other didn’t exist - like it was inconvenient to be in each other’s presence. You ache with every second of the prolonged silence, replaying every stolen glance and shared breath. Arthur was the fire that kept you warm that night, but did you scorch his heart in return?
The night air still lingers, but now it’s wrapped in a chilling fog as the morning breeze hangs heavy with unspoken words as you prepare to leave the shelter of the cabin. Your encounter still weighed deeply on you, and although you tried to keep your mind on other things, it proved futile. With every thought of him, it was as if the ghosts of the night before hovered between, whispering secrets that danced just out of reach.  
You hadn’t slept the rest of the night; instead, you spent the small hours before dawn treading quietly through the house to distract your mind from the constant thoughts that circled in your head. The atmosphere was calm but uncanny, a lingering sense of emptiness filling you while striding through the distant memories you knew lay deep within these walls.
It was a smaller cabin, and nothing exciting hid in the dressers and side tables, as you might have hoped. You don’t know what you were looking for–maybe some letter or long-forgotten notes. Although you found nothing, everything else was in perfect shape despite the dust laying like a blanket over every surface, meaning the only person who probably knew about this place was Arthur. The house was lonely enough, and through your adrenaline-filled ride, you knew the site strayed far away from the path as only tightly grown trees surrounded you, right in the middle of the woods.
As you stepped into what looked to be the bedroom, you saw the bedside table filled with smoked cigarettes and ash surrounding it in heaps. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Arthur often stayed here, his not-so-healthy smoking addiction being a telltale sign. 
“So, this is where he stays? And, smokes?” Your observation made you giggle through your lingering sadness at the thought. He was here more often than he had insinuated, it seems. 
There were traces of him everywhere, more than you had seen in the camp. It wasn’t often he left shirts to clean or dishes to wash, nor did he have many possessions littered around. When Arthur was out, he was gone for long periods; when he wasn’t, he kept to himself most of the time. But here, his presence was overwhelming; the warm, familiar scent of him lingered, hitting you intensely. You could even see a gun lying on the floor and his all-to-familiar, blue, worn-out shirt hanging on the chair. 
Filthy was an understatement, as the dirt and sweat on it made you scrunch your nose, a displeased noise leaving you. The amount of holes in the fabric made you want to gasp and gasp even harder when you saw the blood on it. What had Arthur done to the shirt? And what had he done to himself to leave the shirt looking like that? Striding hastily from the door, you picked it up, examining it with wide eyes. You could almost fit your entire hand through the patch. 
Judging from the blood fading to a faint brownish color, it looked like the shirt had been here for quite some time. You could see a horrible attempt at stitchwork as you examined the blue fabric, but the moment you stretched it slightly, the stitches came undone as the needle that still hung from the thread fell to the floor. 
A loud voice brought you away from your thoughts as the shirt fell from your hands. Arthur shouted your name, and suddenly, you were brought back to your current predicament. The thought made you sigh heavily as you stared out the window, now blurry with frost. Facing him right now didn’t feel entirely right, but you didn’t have a choice; if you didn’t want to walk back, of course. 
With one last glance around the room, you quickly closed the door behind you and fished up the jacket you had borrowed on your way. Stepping out on the porch, you felt heavy and aching in the brisk morning breeze, gazing beyond the trees as the warm lights of the sunrise painted your surroundings with a golden hue. In front of you, Arthur was silent as he stood tall and formidable with his back towards you, adjusting the reins of Boadicea. With a clenched jaw, the brim of his hat cast a shadow under his eyes, obscuring the thoughts that churned beneath. 
The horse shifted in front of him, restless, as if sensing the charged atmosphere. You knew he heard you step out, but he made no incantation of acknowledging your presence as anxiety filled you, words leaving you before you could stop them. 
“Do you think it’s safe to go back now?” How he heard you was beyond you as your voice was slightly above a whisper, your insecurities wrapping heavily around your words. You shamed yourself for the stupid question you asked, mentally hitting yourself on the head. 
His response was a quiet grunt, barely audible, and if you were facing him, you would see the brief flicker of uncertainty that crossed his face. It was a rare glimpse of vulnerability, a crack in his armor as his heart ached at your voice. Unbeknownst to you, of course. Seeing you so careful around him now made it seem like you had just met, your anxious gaze staring uncertainly at the outlaw in front of you like the day you met.
Hesitating momentarily, you searched for the right words, but the weight pressed against your chest, choking the words before they could form. You felt so tiny where you stood, like a small ant before a giant bear. The choking of tears waited to pour out, so you kept quiet. With briefly closed eyes, you took small steps down the porch, nearing him slowly, like he would leave if you moved too hastily.
He didn’t help you up the horse, and the action made you hesitate. Usually, Arthur would have been there, a steady presence at your side, always doing his utmost to help you. Instead, he swung onto the horse briskly and waited for you to climb on behind him. You moved tentatively; you weren’t sure if your overthinking or his daunting presence made you clumsy, but it was a challenge. 
With a shaky breath, you attempted to swing your leg over the saddle, but the simple act you’d done countless times before suddenly felt impossible. Heart pounding in your chest, you cursed how your hands seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Your foot slipped, and you stumbled, your heart skipping a beat as you fought to regain your balance. The horse shifted before you, sensing your unease, and you bit down on your lip as embarrassment burned your cheeks.
Suddenly, you heard a sigh above you, and you dared to steal a glance at Arthur. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unreadable, but there was a resignation in how his shoulders sagged ever so slightly like your struggle was the last thing he had the patience for. 
Without warning, a warmth enveloped your waist. Your eyes widened as his hand gently steadied you, his touch firm yet gentle. He held onto you for a fleeting moment, his fingers warm against your skin as he helped you into the saddle. Quickly, he released his hold on you, like scorched by fire. 
Now, you were the closest to him you had been since last night, although the chasm between you felt wider than ever, a gulf of unspoken emotions that you were too afraid to bridge. With a gentle nudge from Arthur, the horse moved, the rhythm of its hooves a melancholic symphony.
You stole a glance at Arthur, his jaw still set, gaze focused on the path ahead. His unreadable expression starkly contrasted the vulnerability he’d shown you just a few hours ago. What was going through his mind, you wondered to yourself. 
You could have never guessed the shame that littered his thoughts with every move; the thought of you now acting apprehensive made him want to disappear into the ground. He had shown you a part he always kept to himself, a part he only relished when the last light of day disappeared.
 God damn it, he was so foolish to think it was a dream since you had felt more real than you had ever felt. His mind raced as he tried to wreck his sense of what he could have said in his sleep for you to wake him up suddenly in the middle of the night, wondering if he had been talking about you.
He felt embarrassed, not letting himself touch you for a moment more than necessary, as he knew it would make you uncomfortable. Now, he longed for how you acted around each other before the night came, with you blabbering adoringly on with some nonsense that seemed to always lighten his mood, even though he didn’t respond most of the time. He felt stale now, shoulders hunched and hands gripping tightly on the reins as he tried to shake the thoughts of you away from his mind, unsuccessfully as per usual.
Still wary, you soon realized you didn’t know where to put your hands, fearing to touch his rigid body that tensed at every jump and unexpected movement from the horse. With a tentative exhale, you finally rest your hands on your thighs, fingers tracing the fabric of your skirt. It was a slight gesture, a silent admission of your uncertainty. The thought saddened you, and you should have appreciated his allowance of your touch the night before when you rode with him. It had been comfortable, and it was like neither of you had minded being that close to each other. It felt like years ago, but it was only a few hours. 
As the horse’s movements continued to sway beneath you, a gust of wind tugged at your hair, sending strands dancing in the breeze. Instinctively, as if seeking an anchor, your fingers brushed against the fabric of Arthur’s shirt. The touch was unintentional, almost accidental, and your heart raced as you realized what you’d done. When Arthur didn’t react, your hands stayed there, the cotton of his shirt soft against your skin.
You didn’t exchange a single word for the rest of the way, both fear and apprehension filling the air around you as it breezed. The journey felt longer than you remembered; the anxiety and adrenaline had probably clouded your judgment last night. Although it felt longer, Arthur had set a fast pace, and you wondered if it was because he wanted it to be over and to escape your presence quickly. The thought hurt you deeply, and you wished for nothing more than to be back at camp.
-
And that’s how it went; the pair of you grew further apart the longer time went on, choosing to ignore every chance of reconciliation, instead opting to go about your day as if nothing had happened. The embarrassment inside of you should have grown into disdain for the man as you brooded at the thought of his actions. Instead, you couldn’t change your thoughts about him. You adored him, even though you know he didn’t share the same feelings. It all feels melancholy, but you can’t help how you think; your emotions always have the upper hand.
Like before, all traces of him grew faint as time passed, and to be honest with yourself, you missed him. As days stretched into weeks–an unsettling awareness that Arthur’s presence was becoming ephemeral, like a fading echo in your day-to-day life. 
It started with the little things, the subtle traces of his existence that usually wove themselves into the fabric of camp life. His worn hat resting on his bed was absent. The constant smell of tobacco that lingered in the air was no longer there, replaced by the emptiness of his absence. The worn books he used to read lay untouched, collecting dust, pages waiting for fingers that never turned them anymore. The cup of coffee he’d drink in the early morning hours as you watched him from your place by the tree was now empty, cold, and abandoned. 
Insignificant as they were, these traces spoke volumes to you. They were remnants of a man slipping away, consumed by a world that demands his attention at every turn. You had noticed how the weight on everyone’s shoulders had grown heavier recently as if treading down those mountains had unleashed an avalanche on your unsuspecting shoulders. 
The workload was severe, and it seemed more often than not that things went wrong nowadays. Although it had appeared to lighten the mood for everyone to have some distance from the law, you didn’t feel like the recent time had been doing you good. More so, the lurking shadow of Micha that now constantly lingered seemed to dampen your mood even more. 
Having to move from Horseshoe Overlook was one big reason you felt uneasy. You had grown quite fond of the place but were also used to change, which made it less arduous. However, dealing with Pinkerton’s and Cornwall’s men made your stomach turn. 
All of you appeared to be in more trouble than before, and it seemed like you only increased your danger with every turn you made. You couldn’t argue that this place was better, though; the area’s remoteness makes you feel safer than you had ever been. Enclosed by a thick forest and looking out at a bay filled with small islands, you felt as if you were miles away from the closest living person. 
Huffing to yourself, you closed your eyes momentarily as you leaned back into the makeshift chair you made from some boxes behind your tent. Although you had a bed, which you made yourself stubbornly since you refused to sleep on the ground, you found work more peaceful here. You were deathly scared of bugs, and if you slept on the floor, you were sure you would become a nest for the filthy, petty demons. 
Although not a proper bed, just a blanket over some boxes, it wasn’t too comfortable, but you had to pick your poison despite the chuckles you got from your newfound friends. Oh, how you envied the others who had a proper bed. The thought made you sulk, but to be fair, the workload on the ones with a bed was heavier than yours, naturally.
Once again, your thoughts led you to him. It was the case more often than not recently. Although you had both had some more distance between you with Arthur never being around, it had only made you think about him more than you wished. You guessed it would give you more space and room to breathe, but it made you feel cramped like the surrounding air had become tighter as the days passed. 
You had also been pondering how well you had fallen asleep in his arm that night with no hint of a nightmare following the closing of your eyes. It was strange to you, and you couldn’t help but miss the shut-eye that had made you feel more at peace than ever since you were a child. There was something so comforting about his arms around you, and you felt safer than ever knowing he was there, and you had missed it and now longed for it.
Over time, it felt like the hinting of love had been creeping towards you as you tried with all the strength you had to push it away, but your efforts remained useless as the thought of him only made your heart race. It felt hopeless to you that you had to go around pining for a man you rarely saw these days, but you couldn’t help the longing from your heart that prompted you to run into his arms whenever you caught sight of him and worry immensely when you didn’t see him return to camp. 
Without Arthur’s knowledge, you had been eying the shirt you brought back from the cabin, wondering if you should fix it. If you did, he would know you stumbled into his room. You don’t know why, but you pondered if doing so would make him mad. He would probably view it as an intrusion on his privacy, but he didn’t tell you not to go in there. You had concluded that you would stitch it up for him but not give it to him. 
The stitching proved difficult as the fabric’s tear was just as massive as you noted when you first saw it, along with some smaller holes that were easy enough. Apart from your troubles with it, you were pretty proud of your handiwork, and the shirt now looked wearable again. Well, it’s wearable enough for a cowboy, at least. With a sigh, you let the fabric fall on your lap and ran your hand through your hair as you gazed into the tightly grown forest towering before you. 
“I didn’t take you for the lovesick type.” A giggling voice reached your ear, and when you turned your head to look beside you, a smiling Mary Beth filled your vision. Your brows arched at her words, surprised. “Lovesick? I’m not lovesick.” You said calmly, feigning innocence. You knew indeed what she meant, but you were not lovesick. The guilt from that night still filled your every thought, just like the embarrassment at your actions rose in you every time you heard his name. You didn’t know your actions mirrored your feelings, but to be fair, Mary Beth was always reading those romance books that probably gave her a picture of the signs of being in love.
“But maybe you are, seeing as you’re mending his shirt for him. It’ll make him happy, you know. He wore it an awful lot before.” A faint blush spread on your cheeks as you made no move to hide the shirt; the damage was already done. She was more observant than she looked; you had to give her that. 
“Mending a shirt is hardly a sign of love, Mary-Beth. If that were the case, we’d all be married by now.” Your words grew into a giggle, the thought amusing you and your romance-obsessed friend. 
“Could you imagine? I married to Bill? Or worse, Uncle?!” You erupted in a loud laughing fit after Mary-Beth whispered the words to you when she sat beside you, eyes around you now observing you. Putting her arm against your back, you both gossiped the evening away enthusiastically as you hid away from the rest of the camp, cheerfully blabbing til the darkness filled your surroundings. It was nice, the conversation you kept keeping your thoughts away from the sadness that had lodged itself in your chest, a now constant reminder. 
In moments like this, you appreciated having a close friend like Mary��Beth around, for she was incredibly clever and better at knowing when you needed distraction. You hoped she thought the same of you, knowing her life wasn’t exactly rainbows and sunshine. You also knew she valued Arthur greatly and knew him well, much more than you did. The questions churned underneath, as you had to stop yourself from spilling your situation to her as you laid all the cards on the table, begging her to make sense of your emotions. You weren’t familiar with relying your feelings on others. Instead, you took pride in your extraordinary listening abilities.
He appeared in the corner of your eyes as you glanced up amidst your hushed voices. Menacing, he looked where he sat tall on his mount, body slumped backward as he lazily swayed with the horse’s movements, leaning back in the saddle. A sigh left you as he appeared unharmed, and the slight fluttering that spread in your body made you feel like throwing up. A sharp shiver rushed through you when his blue eyes met yours, the distance doing nothing to reduce the coil that twisted your stomach at his gaze. They were fiercely soft when they met yours, dark even through their vibrant shine. He looked intimidating; there was no doubt about that, and you cowered under his stare, eyes flickering between his and the dirtied ground before you as he disappeared into camp.
It reminded you heavily of the day of the robbery and how his gaze had pierced dangerously into the poor man’s frame. Somehow, you had convinced yourself that despite the severity of his actions, he was a good man. You were unsure if it was to justify the feelings you harbored for him or the will to think of everyone as good-natured that made that the case. 
It had made you second guess what you were doing here, wondering if it did you any good to stay, but every time you pondered walking out, you found yourself unable to. You didn’t want to admit that Arthur was the reason for your staying, but somehow, the thought seemed to linger in your mind, reminding you of it every so often. 
You felt Mary-Beth’s hand circle your forearm as she waved at the other men coming back, although glancing at you as she did. Straightening your back, you looked away. This time, you kept it that way as his eyes did more damage than good to you, a warmth having spread low in your stomach at the look of him.
Clearing your throat, you raised from your spot beside Mary-Beth and gave her a tight-knit smile. “Let’s get something to eat, yeah?” Nodding, she dusted off her lap slightly before hooking arms with you, humming as you walked off. You headed deeper into camp, finding Arthur’s eyes examining you as he spoke to a beaming Mr. Pearson, joined by a pessimistic Dutch. 
Scratching his beard with his thumb, he looked deep in thought, like he wasn’t even recognizing that he was looking at you. For the first time, his eyes didn’t avoid you; instead, he looked at you shamelessly as your frame grew closer. Staring ahead, you felt your heartbeat pick up–it felt nice to have him looking at you again, although you couldn’t quite figure out what could be the reason for his stare. 
You found yourself in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, the questions tumbling through your mind like a storm. Mary-Beth’s voice grew into background noise, her words a distant echo as you tried to steady your racing heart that only grew faster as the world became stifling. 
The atmosphere had shifted, charged with a tension that seemed to envelop everything. As you continued the short distance, you couldn’t help but steal glances in his direction, each filled with curiosity and uncertainty despite you telling yourself to pay him no mind. God, you felt like a teenager again with no self-restriction.
“Hey.” A deep rumble traveled through camp as the distinctive voice reached you, your mind going numb at the possibility of him speaking to you. Mary-Beth turned her head towards you in confusion while you raised your shoulder slightly in uncertainty, head turning towards the ground as you came to a halt. You heard the clanking of footsteps draw near as the conversation between the three men ended.
“I’ll let you speak in private. Join me later?” Nodding slightly, you kept your head down, wishing you could shrink and run out of sight of the man towering behind you as your friend left you to your demise. You cursed at her under your breath as she half-ran to grab a bite to eat, probably to watch the entertainment before her unfold. 
A short, rough cough brought you out of your thoughts, and straightening your spine, you turned around to face Arthur, motioning for him to speak as a slight smile graced your lips politely. 
“I- we brought Ada back. I’m sorry we couldn’t get her until now, but roaming around there could get us into quite the trouble.” Scratching his neck slightly, he grabbed his belt buckle like he always did when he didn’t know where to put his hands. 
You almost gaped at him when he spoke to you, used to him ignoring you, but recovered quickly by nodding slowly to show him you heard him. Eyes flickered up to yours soon before they faltered just as fast, sniffling before continuing.
“She seems alright, so you don’t gotta worry about that.” Suddenly, his words sunk in, your mind too focused on seeming indifferent to realize. Relief washed over you as you glanced towards the trees, and there she was, unhurt and now safe. Your legs began moving towards her before you could stop them, but before you got too far, you turned to the man who had brought her back to you.
“Thank you, Arthur, really. I know you have a lot on your shoulders right now, so…” You wanted to continue, but your mind grew blank as his blue eyes stared straight into yours. Nodding hastily, he told you not to worry about it and left you with Ada. 
Smiling broadly, you ran up to her to thread your fingers through her mane, soft as it was when you last saw her. 
“Welcome home, Ada.”
-
After your small interaction, the days passed, the slight contentment you felt bled into settled panic nestling in your stomach. Dread filled you as you walked towards the men saddling their horses, not giving you a second glance as your quick steps grew closer. 
“I rarely involve myself in your business, as it’s not my place. But I and many others deem this to be a set-up!” Panic laced your words even though you tried to hide it, hoping they couldn’t detect it as you tried to keep a steady voice. Abigail trailed behind you, putting her hand calmly on your back. 
She had seen the unsteadiness on your face when she told you of their recently planned actions to make up a deal with Colm O’Driscoll and end the year-long feud between them; worry also heavy on her face as she told you of her doubts about the situation. 
“Now, now, my dear girl. You have nothing to worry about. We are just going to chat with old Colm, nothing more, nothing less!” Dutch’s ardent voice was loud as he spoke confidently, patting your shoulder as he walked past you, not failing to give you a reassuring smile only he could give in a situation like this. You felt like rolling your eyes at him but decided against it; the action was not like you and most definitely disrespectful towards the man.
“I get I might not know much about his character, but from what I’ve heard, he’s not the most reliable man. I’m asking you to consider instead of hasting through it.” Chuckling slightly, the man raised himself into his saddle expertly, beckoning Micha to do the same as Arthur stayed firmly on the ground as you spoke, staring indescribably at you. You could see the thoughts that ran through his mind. Who did you think you were to talk to in Dutch like that? With shame long forgotten, you stood your ground.
“My, my. You could give a man the wrong idea by worrying like that.” Sneering down at you with a sleazy smile, Micha crouched his form down towards you as he pulled on the reins. “I’ll return to you in one piece, darling.” 
His offensive breath reached your nose as he leaned in close to you, and with an appalled face, you stepped back quickly to put some distance between you, back-hitting Arthur’s chest by accident, unaware he stood so close. His hand closed around your upper arm to pull you away from Micha. Sending him an unimpressed look, he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around as he stared you down with raised eyebrows.
“Listen, we know what we’re doin-” Before he could continue, Dutch interrupted him. 
“Just a talk, darling.” Flashing you a suave smile, he beckoned the horse forward with Micha on the trail. “Come on, Arthur. We got a deal to make!” Hands left your shoulder as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 
“Arthur, please listen to me. I have a bad feeling about this! What if you get hurt?” Your tries of reasoning grew into pleading as you trailed behind him, grabbing onto his leg as the horse, who kept a slow trot, rose still, huffing at the abrupt standstill. Staring up at Arthur with begging eyes, you thought you might have seen a slight hesitation deep within them.
“Hey, we’ll be alright, darlin’.” Leaning down, he grabbed your hand firmly on his thigh with a tight squeeze. “I wouldn’t dare get a scratch on the shirt you fixed for me, so I’ll have no choice but to return unharmed, do I?” With that, his warm hands left yours as the dirt swirled around him, gazing ahead with a small smile you failed to see amidst your confusion.
Shirt, you pondered for a second. Glancing behind you, you now noticed a few more had walked up a few meters away as they watched the men leave, Abigail pulling you back towards the camp with a sad gaze. Amidst them, you found a smug Mary-Beth shrugging her shoulders as you gave her an accusatory look, shrinking away quickly before you could question her.
A palpable tension stayed after their departure; it had continued into a sleepless night as anxious whispers and worried glances punctuated each passing hour cast toward the horizon. 
Ultimately, it turned out that they all had been wrong, and you had been right. Despite this, Micha and Dutch returned in one piece, but Arthur did not. Arthur was the reason you were worried about this meeting from the start. Whenever you thought about the severity of the situation, your heart picked up, and the feeling of having to do something filled you but being held back by various gang members. 
“We can’t just sit here! What if they have Arthur!?” You walked around restlessly with your hands trembling slightly in worry. 
“And they might not have him. We don’t know. If we don’t see him back before tomorrow, we’ll go out after him.” Charles’ calm voice did nothing to ease your stress. Glancing up at Dutch in the distance, you grew weary as you didn’t see a trace of worry on his features. “This happens sometimes; we have to wait it out for a while. Arthur would have said the same thing.”
The only response Charles got was a clear view of your back as you stalked off to your tent, restlessness coursing through you amidst your slight panic. How they could be so aloof about this made no sense to you. From the moment when Dutch and Micha returned to camp, it was as if everything had returned to normal, with only a few inquiries about Arthur’s whereabouts. 
Were you overreacting? They had been exposed to these situations for much longer than you had, so was your worrying unnecessary? Charles might have been right. Maybe you should give it some time before the worrying was justified, choosing to believe he was safe and sound. It would be the more logical thing to do, which didn’t surprise you since the thought came from Charles, but your head refused to work with it. 
As night and day passed, your thoughts were consumed by the man now absent, everything you did useless since you couldn’t focus. It blurred past you, a fog-like cloud covering your mind. 
Only when the moon cast a silver sheen over the camp could you hear it—a distant, solitary set of hoofbeats approaching. Your heart leaped into your throat as you swirled around with the half-packed bag. It was the unmistakable cadence of Arthur’s horse you had grown to remember. 
With a sense of urgency, you rushed to the camp’s perimeter, your eyes fixed on the approaching silhouette. Arthur’s unmistakable figure emerged from the shadows, hunched over in pain, one arm clenched tightly to his side. He looked battered and bruised, the soft glow from camp revealing the weariness on his battered face.
As he drew nearer, your heart constricted in your chest, the relief of seeing him again, nothing against the fear now flooding your senses. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched him approach, his usually steely resolve replaced by a weary vulnerability. The sight of him wounded and weakened, stirred emotions within you that you struggled to put into words. All you could do was stand in shock, frozen in time, as he emerged.
Arthur’s horse carried him closer, but his strength gave out, and he tumbled from the saddle to the ground with a painful thud. You felt a shiver of anguish as the impact sent you rushing forward, and others from the camp alerted by the commotion joined you. In the dim moonlight, you could see the strained lines of Arthur’s face, the sweat that clung to his brow, and the pallor of his skin being drained of its usual color. His clothing was stained with dirt and dried blood, and his breaths came in ragged, pained gasps.
Amidst the concerned voices and hurried footsteps surrounding him, Arthur summoned the strength to speak. His words were laden with exhaustion and a grim determination as he recounted the treacherous encounter with Colm O’Driscoll. His suspicions about betrayal were tragically confirmed that he had relied on Dutch before despite his reassurance to you. 
“Ah, I told you they would betray us, Dutch!” His voice was strained as he spoke, his eyes shut tight. Your hands trembled as you knelt beside him, your fingers itching to reach and touch him, to reassure yourself that he was here and not a figment of your imagination. The fear that had been gnawing at you during his absence, the dread that he might never return, had taken a toll on your nerves, and now that he was back, it threatened to spill over.
“We were comin’ for you, Arthur,” Dutch shouted as he made his way over, his voice tinged with relief. “But you made it back. That’s what matters.” As he spoke, your gaze remained locked onto Arthur’s face, your heart aching as you ignored his words. The sight of him, usually the epitome of strength and resilience, brought low by his injuries, shook you to your core. 
The campfire’s flickering light cast eerie shadows on his battered form, accentuating the wounds and weariness on his face as his eyes stayed on you. Pain and exhaustion dimmed his usually vibrant eyes. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead as his face scrunched up in pain, and your heart ached at the sight of him in such agony.
You moved closer to Arthur, inspecting his injuries as discreetly as possible. His injuries were rough, and the gun wound in his shoulder was cauterized. Instantly, you grew worried when you realized he had sealed the wound on his own, but you shook the thoughts away for now. 
Leaning closer to Arthur, your fingers moved carefully; you swept away the sweat-dampened strands of hair that clung to his forehead, your touch a soothing caress against his heated skin. The sensation of his sweat-slicked hair sliding through your fingertips sent a shiver down your spine, but you pressed on, driven by an irresistible need to provide him with some relief.
“You’ll be all right, Arthur. Just hang in there.” You whispered, your voice filled with warmth and worry, trying to discern his pain despite knowing words wouldn’t do the job. Your fingertips traced a path down to his cheek, where the roughness of his stubble met your touch. 
Miss Grimshaw’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere of the camp like a whip crack, her stern tone leaving no room for argument. “Enough of this dawdling!” she barked, her eyes blazing with authority as she glared at the men gathered around Arthur. “Get him to his cot, now!” The urgency in her command left no room for hesitation, and the men scrambled into action, realizing the gravity of the situation. They carefully lifted Arthur, who winced in pain and carried him to his cot.
“Miss, you know what to do?” Her stern voice grew softer as she looked at you, already gathering materials you kept by your tent in a calm frenzy. You stilled as you looked at her, absentmindedly nodding as you pondered how to keep the man alive.
As you set to work, the camp grew into a tense silence; you preparing to tend to Arthur’s wounds when everyone had finally left you alone. Despite this, you could almost feel the tent vibrate with the heaviness of the other’s curious and worried eyes, closed flaps not helping.
Cauterized. That’s what Arthur had done. You closed your eyes momentarily at the horrifying thought. “What a fool you are, Arthur Morgan.” As the anger-rid panic spread through you, the loud buzzing in your ears grew louder. The flickering glow of the campfire cast shifting shadows across his worn face, highlighting the pain etched there. With anger and concern fueling your determination, you gathered the supplies, each movement deliberate.
As you sat on the chair beside the bed, the scent of smoke and charred flesh lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of what he had done to survive. Hastily, you unbuttoned the top of his union suit–the once white material a dark red, wet with blood. The wound was now exposed, the charred edges and angry redness a testament to the dangerousness of his actions. Your heart ached at the sight, emotions swirling within you as your fingers traced the contours of the wound with gentle reverence, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin. 
“Why in the world does it look like that?” Miss Grimshaw had crept up hurriedly behind you through the closed flaps of the tent but stopped when she was presented with the sight before her. Her gaze was set straight on where the bullet had dislodged from his right shoulder. The flesh was both burned and black. A gruesome sight, indeed. 
She handed you a clean cloth, her hand hovering over her mouth as you dipped it in the cold water Pearson had handed you. Gently, you cleaned the wound, the fabric stained with a mixture of dirt, ash, and dried blood. You made sure the touch of the cloth against his skin was tender as you glanced up at his still contorting face, pain heightening as time passed now that the adrenaline had lessened. 
“Cauterization.” You told the woman, disbelief still brimming through your mind. “It’s not a very common practice, and many aren’t aware of it. A good thing, though, I would say. It’s only used when there is no other way to survive.” The thought made you hesitate as you wondered what could have happened to Arthur for him to think that was the only way. 
You got a confused look as you peered up at Miss. Grimshaw. Sighing lightly, you continued. “To avoid bleeding to death, you remove the bullet lodged in your skin from your wound and then blow up the skin with gunpowder to seal it. While it theoretically works, gunpowder is unpredictable, meaning you could get into more damage than you first were. When you blow up the skin like that, the skin tissue dies–and the immune system doesn’t work on that area since the skin is dead, essentially.” You glanced at him again as you shook your head, finding his eyes already on yours. 
“With no immune system, the infections you can get are severe. There’s no way for your body to help protect that skin. In the end, it leads to death, most of the time.”
With a steadying breath, you reached for a bottle of alcohol salvaged from the camp’s supplies. Soaking the cloth in the liquid, the potent scent fills the surrounding air. “If the fever doesn’t take him, the infections will, Susan. How in the world did he think this was a good idea?” Though steady at hand, your voice shook as you found it increasingly difficult to speak. 
You placed one hand on his forehead that felt worryingly warm under your palm as you glanced around to see if you had brought a wet cloth. Catching your drift, Grimshaw handed you one she got from the bedside table. Giving her an appreciative smile, you place it on his forehead. 
“I can hear you, you know.” Gritting the words through his teeth, he spoke in a slur amidst the sharp pain, keeping his gaze locked on you. As you stared at each other, a silent exchange passed before you gently pressed the alcohol-dosed cloth against the wound. His inhale was sharp, a flinch betraying his efforts to remain composed, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for the suffering he endured.
Looking at you, Grimshaw shook her head slightly as appreciation shone in her sharp eyes. “Well, good thing we have you here, miss. God knows how he would have fared if that weren’t the case.”
 For the first time since you met her, Miss Grimshaw appeared wildly unsure of herself, uneasiness coating her every move. If not for the severity of the situation, you would have found humor in her now ghostly pale face contradicting her ever-so-harsh interior. She probably felt so, too, for she put her hand on your shoulder encouragingly and left you to tend to Arthur, promising to call for her if you needed anything.
Her words were encouraging, yet the fear stayed persistent. What if you couldn’t help Arthur? Trying to stray from the thoughts consuming you, you focused on keeping a delicate balance of care and caution in your hands. The alcohol someone handed you before served as an antiseptic. Although not as valuable as a legitimate antiseptic, you had to make it work to sterilize the wound and ward off the threat of infection. 
Arthur’s eyes remained fixed on yours throughout—a gaze that seemed intense and challenging to describe yet unwavering in its focus as they grew tired. In another instance, it might have rendered you nervous about being so heavily observed, but the adrenaline that still coursed through you made your focus solely on his wound. When everything appeared clean, you grabbed the bandage you brought to wrap it around his shoulder cautiously.
After some time, you carefully withdrew as nothing more could be done, but your fingers lingered against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Despite his fatal injuries, feeling his skin under your hands had been an immense comfort–a constant reminder that he was still with you for the time being. 
The moonlight glows gently over you, soft shadows dancing across his features as you gaze over his form. He appeared to be knocked out now, eyes closed and breathing even. Indeed, this was a common enough occurrence in this gang as you thought back to all the other misfortunes they had to be saved from, but the thought of Arthur being the one at the receiving end of it made your chest cramp slightly tighter. Sure, he had been in scrapes before, but never this bad.
Shaking your head, you tried to get rid of the thoughts bothering you and instead worried about how you were about to keep his fever down. He was still burning up, face red and layered with sweat. As you glanced at Arthur again, pity settled low in your stomach. His expression was laden with discomfort and pain, even though sleep had rendered him motionless on the bed. 
Bringing your hands away from his smoldering skin, you quietly threaded over the ground to the bedside table to grab the supplies, now soaked in blood and ash. Preparing to leave, you took what remained of the alcohol so you could sterilize the small portion of materials that were still usable. 
That’s when you heard a barely audible, hoarse grunt piercing through the night’s stillness. Surprised, you looked behind you, and staring at you were a pair of blue eyes, half-shut with exhaust coating them amidst a desperation you had never witnessed before. Your breath hitched as the moment suffocated your lungs, the air around you growing thicker. 
“Don’t go.” Arthur’s words were a whisper, laced with a quiet vulnerability that made your heartbeat pick up its pace. As you looked down at your blood-soaked hands to avoid his gaze, a calm moment passed where you assessed where the following string of actions would lead you, but ultimately, you sat back in the chair beside him.
Gently, you brought your still trembling fingers through his hair, combing it away from the cloth covering his forehead. His half-closed eyes watched you, and the warmth lodged in them almost made your breath stop. 
Humming slightly, you remained beside him until your soothing caress lulled him closer to sleep. His breathing gradually slowed, the pain-filled haze lulling him into a fitful slumber. Features relaxed, his body finally succumbing to the desperately needed rest.
The camp grew shrouded in quietness. Arthur was still lying in his fever-induced haze, features now softened by the gentle pull of slumber. By his side, you sat with a tired mind, a flickering lantern casting a warm light that danced across your features. You had been awake for a few hours, watching over him in hopes his fever would stay down. Although your eyes showed intense fatigue, you combated sleep with determination and worry. How could you possibly leave him now? 
Frankly, you were just as terrified now as when he stumbled into camp. As told before, if a severe infection took hold of his body, you had no way to help or treat him like you would if you had the suitable materials and not in the middle of nowhere. It was severe, not the usual gashes and bruises you were used to tending to with your time with the gang. 
As you gently switched the damp cloth on his forehead for a new one, its cool touch contrasted his heated skin greatly. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered open slightly, revealing eyes clouded with fever and something else–perhaps even warmer amidst the haze. Chastising yourself for not being careful enough, you stroked his cheek softly with the back of your fingers, cooing at him calmly.
“Go back to sleep.” Your voice was calm, praying that he would fall back asleep. He didn’t answer you, only looking at you in that indescribable way. A fleeting vulnerability had seemed to wash over him in the quiet space between wakefulness and dreams as his fingers stirred.
Before you could fully grasp his intentions, his trembling hand found the one you had been resting on his cheek, his touch warm. A rough thumb brushed against your inner palm in a tender caress as he brought the soft skin of your hand to graze it over his lips. Your heart raced a tumultuous rhythm as his action surprised you tremendously.
Despite your attempts to stay strong, the weariness that washed over you and the toll of the day’s events fell from your shoulders when his eyes stared so tenderly into yours. The fear that had knotted your chest when you first saw him writhing in pain, the nagging anxiety that had gnawed at your insides during those uncertain hours of tending to his wounds, and the overwhelming relief that he was now here, still with you—all surged to the surface at once. 
Silent tears welled in your eyes, their shimmering trails tracing the contours of your red cheeks. Your breath quivered, and your shoulders shook with the sheer intensity of the emotions building inside you. It was as though a dam had burst, releasing the pent-up feelings that had threatened to overwhelm you throughout the night. In the soft, dark tent, you surrendered to this moment of vulnerability, letting your tears flow freely.
​​Arthur’s lips, usually quick with wit or stern in resolve, now held a slight parting as if he wanted to speak but found himself at a loss for words. Witnessing him in such a state was rare, his gaze carrying a depth of emotion without explanation. Though trembling with the lingering pain of his injuries, his fingers maintained an unwavering hold on your hand as he pulled on it, beckoning you closer to him. 
“No.” You mumbled through your tears, eyes clouded with a panic-induced frenzy when you understood what he wanted from you. “I need to watch over your fever.” Sobs mingled with your words, shaking your voice as tears glided down your skin, hand leaving in hesitation as you tried to create distance between you. A sigh escapes Arthur as he stretches his arm towards you and grabs your hand yet again, pulling you closer to him. 
Although the pull was weak, it didn’t require much strength to succumb you to his will. Your determination disappeared instantaneously as your mind longed to be comforted despite the man before you in more need of it, leaving the chair to be embraced by his scorching body, the smell of sweat and blood filling your nostrils when you felt him underneath you. You didn’t care, though, the feeling of his bare skin against your cheek letting you know he was alive as you rested in the crook of his neck.
In the peaceful silence, you could hear the labored rhythm of his breaths, still showing signs of pain and the toll his injuries had taken on him. His heartbeat remained steady, though, a reassuring cadence that echoed in your ears like a comforting lullaby as you rested your hand on it. You grew aware of the rise and fall of his chest, the gentle thud of his pulse against your ear. Your heartbeat slowed as his cradle unconsciously calmed you, the tears not as persistent as they once were. 
His uninjured hand found sanction on your waist as he gently stroked it with his thumb, the action comforting. If that meant he was alright or not, you could not tell, but likewise, you basked in the moment of having him close to you.
You looked up at him and stroked his temple soothingly as you wiped away the sweat that ran down his face. Arthur was already observing you when you met his gaze, the look in his eyes making you warmer than you already were, as the stifling air in the closed tent made no way for the chilly breeze to come through.
“You scared me, Arthur.” As the moment grew more intense, your eyes fell to the scruff on his neck as you spoke, fearing to look at him after your revelation. You felt the coarseness of his hand land on your cheeks in a gentle motion, the pads of his fingers gliding across your skin thoughtfully.
“You ain’t got to be scared anymore,” His raspy voice spoke out as his touch slowly caressed your lips, eyes zoned in on the soft curves. “I’m right here.” 
Then, as if guided by an impulse deep within him, he raised on his unhurt arm and leaned forward as the back of your head found sanction in the crevice in his arm, his lips finding yours in a kiss as delicate as it was poignant. 
The world seemed to recede in that instant, time slowing to a standstill as the feeling of his lips against yours sent a jolt of emotions coursing through your veins. The exchange was not fleeting; it was a lingering dance of lips and breath, a dance that ignited embers that had been smoldering between you for longer than you dared to admit. 
When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours with a blend of sleepiness and an ember of awareness that pierced through the fog of his haze. You grabbed his shoulders softly, beckoning him to lie down again and rest on his already shaking body, quivering from the power of trying to stay upright. His fingers retreated to the bed, his gaze unwavering, as if he was etching you into his memory. A hand came to rest in your hair when he softly brought you to his lips again, your breath hitching as you fell into his arms again, your legs on either side of him when he pulled you closer.
His lips moved with more fervor this time, the arm holding you tighter against him as a deep hum left his throat at the feeling of your hands on his neck. His eyes were half-open as he kissed you, gazing softly into yours as the candle beside you flickered its light deep into his eyes. Together, your lips massaged one another, now desperate, as your hands gripped the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. 
The feeling of him gripping your hips against his middle made you squirm, the bed creaking underneath you as you moved your legs further up his sides to reach him better. You didn’t give yourself a chance to ponder what you were doing, feeling delirious and too exhausted to question your actions.
“Arthur.” His name came out in a breathless whine; though desperate, it was quiet. There was no reaction as his lips barely left yours to breathe, then once again warming your insides as you felt his tongues slip into your warm cavern, a nonsensical rumble deep in his chest going through him.
“Arthur,” Once again, you whispered; this time, despite your will to keep falling into him, you removed your hands as you tried pulling away. “You need to rest.” He placed his hand on your back and pushed you back towards him, stroking down to your waist as his palm caressed your curves.
“I’m serious!” Yet again, another whine left you, words contradicting your body as your hips moved hesitantly above his. Biting the bottom of your lip at the pleasant feeling creeping up your stomach, you returned to him with an urgency that rendered both of you merciless as you found comfort in each other’s arms. 
“I thought I’d never see you again.” It took a while to process the words he spoke as the moment you shared filled your every sense, but when you did, you froze in his arms. Blinking your eyes slowly, you soaked up his words, and when you glanced up at him, his eyes were shut tight in pain. Your once beating heart slowed down as his confession squeezed it tightly, your breath now heavy as it grew loud through the quiet of the night.
“When, when I…” His forehead creased in frustration as he tried to get the words out. “When I got shot, all I could see was you.” The last few words he groaned out in strained breaths, teeth gritting as his hand flew to his shoulder. “And I, I could see you in front of me like you were right there. You felt so real as you fell into my arms, and I thought that was it.” A long pause endured before he let out a sigh and spoke. “I thought I’d gone to heaven, ya know.”
With now strained, open eyes, he looked into yours, and for the first time, you felt like you could see straight through the thorny walls of his soul as he bared himself to you. He had always been a man of few words, the last couple of days a firm reminder of that, but the way he spoke now filled you with a shock that made your blood run cold despite the scorching heat that surrounded you. 
A long moment passed, and your breathing was barely audible as it mingled with Arthur’s. Despite being the words you have wanted to hear for a long time, they weren’t what you expected. The warm feeling in your stomach turned into a slight prickling as it rose in your chest, and you had to lean back as it spread through you.
“Now, I know.” A loud breath left him, the world growing blurry before your eyes as he continued, stress evident in his words as you put some distance between you. “It’s selfish of me to tell you this, to burden you with having a man like me love you. But I had to feel you one last time, in case I,” A slight hesitation filled his voice as he kept his eyes shut, fearing the look on your face as his hand squeezed your thigh. “Won’t make it tonight.”
The heavy stones resting on his shoulders for a long time fell, and relief shot through him as he finally found himself telling you what he never imagined he would. Could is a more fitting word; if not for the fever-induced haze he found himself in and the near-death experience he had just witnessed, he wouldn’t have spoken a word. He would leave you none the wiser than you were before, still having to live with loving a man who didn’t love you while he would dream of you forever, within a distance but still so far away—a light in his forever darkness.
Now, he was telling the truth. Aware of the fatality of his wound, he was sure dying was a possibility in the coming hours. After all the bad things he had done in life, the man down below had chased him for a long time, and Arthur always escaped him with pure luck. 
To have you one more time as he did in the cabin was his dying wish, to once in his life feel the embrace of someone he loved in the bleak world he had lived in. He felt pathetic as he begged you to stay with him, rest his hands on you, and listen to the pitiful words that made him feel more like a beggar than a man. 
He thought it was for the best when you didn’t speak up. He didn’t want to hear the words that he always imagined you would tell him were he to voice his feelings to you. Instead, he wished to live in blissful ignorance, to hear your breath in his ear as your hands touched him in pity for his pining and longing with eyes filled with anything but love. That’s where his heart had brought him now, craving your touch; whether it was filled with hatred or sadness, he would take it all as he lived his last moments. He would let you do anything to him, only if you stayed close to him.
When he had returned to you at the table in the cabin, the look in your eyes left his heart cold, filled with sadness as you gazed at him. A look that reeked of regret, wishing that you had never let him put his hands on you. He didn’t need you to tell him, for he already knew. To leave you in silence had been the best way for him to protect the small part of his dignity he had left. 
He had wanted so badly for you to keep laughing then, beckoning him to return to your embrace as the monumental fright turned into a laughable memory and a loving one as you held each other warm for the remainder of the night. The thought had brought chills up his spine, and as he longed to return to you, he knew it wasn’t possible. If he put another hand on you, your words would burn his heart into ash on the wooden floor. He was sure of it.
As Arthur’s thoughts raced, yours stood still. What could you say that would make sense? You thought it had to be a dream, for you were sure you would never hear those types of words coming from Arthur. You brought your hands up to his cheeks with your palms against his warm, wet skin as you focused your gaze on his, finding his eyes now looking at you. 
“What?” That’s all you could manage to let out, voice small and confused at his sudden confession. You felt a hand engulf your own, holding it against him as his gaze faltered when you leaned back toward him. You brought your forehead against his cloth-covered one and closed your eyes, soaking up his presence.
Loved you? He loved you? The thought rose fast, and your blood that had run cold earlier was replaced with a warmth that shook you through and through. Had you been so wrong to mistake his love for you with hatred and regret? Looking at him now, you could see that every word he spoke was accurate as he opened up to you and how glad you were that he did; for now, you wished to hear those words leave him forever. Amidst your tear-filled eyes, a toothy smile grazed your lips as you pressed them against his unexpected ones. 
They were warm and inviting, fitting perfectly against yours, as if they had always belonged there, and as your mouths melded together, a profound sense of happiness surged within you. His hand, which had been so gentle with you, cradled your face, thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender caress that sent shivers down your spine. Leaning into the crook of his neck, you shut your eyes as a surge of tears broke through your eyelids from the emotions that wrecked through you.
“Hey now, I thought I told you not to cry.” Arthur shushed you as a choked sound left you, frowning as you let tears fall. You found it unbelievable to imagine that this was why he withdrew from you, and at this moment, you felt the stupidest you had ever felt. 
Why had his thoughts led him so astray? Thinking that you would pity and loath him for the feelings he harbored for you? A damn outstanding actor, he was, for he had you a complete fool. You were sure he regretted everything.
“I thought you hated me.” As you murmured the words meekly against his skin, a scoff shook your body when Arthur glanced at you in disbelief. 
“Now, how in the hell did you get an idea like that?” Even though his words grew harsh, his tone remained soft. He was surprised that that’s how you had perceived him lately. He held no contempt for you in his whole body and wasn’t sure he could, even if he had all the right to. 
“I just, you.” Stammering, you found it hard to explain yourself, now realizing how easily this could have been if you weren’t so stubborn. “I thought you regretted being with me. You know, that night. And I, I thought I’d taken advantage of you and that you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
You were greeted with silence as Arthur let your words sink in, the quietness deafening. You waited for an answer with your head still cowering under his neck. His hand left its place on your waist and covered your cheek under its rough palm. Lifting your head, he forced you to look at him, an incomprehension visible in his expression.
“I’d be a fool if I even considered, even for a second, to regret being with you. More of a fool than I already am.” He saw that his sentence only confused you; a painstakingly labored breath left him before he continued. “Jesus, woman. You should be the one to regret being with me. A man like me should never put his hands on a woman like you, you know.”
“No, Arthur.” You mumbled as you stared at his chest in defiance. So this was why he had been acting like this? Was all that ignoring and indifference just a facade because he thought he didn’t deserve you? You almost wanted to laugh at the thought, but the worry you felt for him for his poor view of himself grew.
“Listen, I can’t be that for you, even if you wanted me to.” Shaking your head, you began to silence him.
“No-.”
“No, you listen to me. Today was a perfect example of who I am and what I do.” He shook your head to get you to look at him as he craned his neck to look deeper into your eyes. “You shouldn’t even be here, for your own sake. You could be safe, married, and live away from all this shit. Every time I see you, I see that you’re too good for us; you’re too kind, too warm.” He stroked your wet cheek with his rough palm as he murmured. “It ain’t something an outlaw like me deserves, alright?”
How do you even respond to that? You had no choice but to gaze into his eyes, the warmth deep within the blue orbs rendering you silent. So you didn’t answer him, lowering your lips closer to his. Your breaths mingled, the enticing distance speaking volumes at the want for each other still lingering in the air. 
Arthur’s breathing grew unstable, and the already heavy strain his body was going through grew bolder as your enticing lips appeared so close to his, both mouths opening slightly as hazy eyes adorned your blushed faces. Everything that had just been said between the two of you disappeared from his mind; the only thing making sense to him now was your plump lips barely touching his.
You heard him rumble your name soundlessly, but it turned into nonsense in your ears as they buzzed, your heart beating so heavily in your chest you were sure you could feel it rattle your whole body when his lips finally touched your own. The first few seconds felt like a song, his fingers on you, picking at the strings of your heart as your breaths turned into a beautiful melody. Your caress was delicate as it ran over his shoulders, avoiding his bandages as they traced over the soft skin of his arms. 
“You’re not dying tonight. You’re staying here with me whether you like it or not.” You let your lips connect again before he could speak, the desire in the kiss growing heavier, electricity zapping in the surrounding air. Now that you had him, you felt your heart soar at the revelation. Arthur loved you. Oh, how stupid you had been to think he despised you and regretted being with you.
You turn your head to the side to catch your breath, but as you do, Arthur takes the chance to place small, loving kisses against the corner of your mouth. Now that he had you on top of him, he only grew desperate for more, even though he knew the meaning behind your willingness was pity seeping through you from his words. 
As you gasped for breath, his wet trail descended from your chin to your neck, sloppily massaging his tongue against your soft skin. Despite your attempts, his touch made it harder for you to regain your composure as a pitiful, quiet whine left you when you felt his teeth gently scrape on the already blushing skin. 
His hand that never left the swell of your hips felt increasingly more lewd now than before, the broadness of his palms kneading the doughy swell of your curves as he spread your cheeks with fingers that grew closer to the warmth of your lower region. Your hands found sanction in his hair yet again, bringing your lips to his as your hips moved against the motion of his hands restlessly. 
“You don’t need to do this.” Arthur’s voice was dangerously low when he spoke through your lips pressed firmly against his, and although laced with want, the uncertainty was noticeable. A suppressed moan left you as his finger accidentally ran over the delicate part of your lower region through your skirt, your face contorting at both the muted pleasure and confusing words he spewed.
“Hmm?” Once more, you zoned out for a minute, completely forgetting his injured state that had only been brought back to camp a few hours ago, and ran your hands down his neck and over the broadness of his shoulders, muscles tensing at your sensual caress. 
“I know you pity me, but-” Barely listening to him, your eyes remain closed as you memorize the curves of his upper body. “-but you ain’t got to do this. I know what I said about having you one last time, but that was just wishful thinking, sweetheart.” Feeling the air thicken as you breathe, you gaze at him with clouded eyes, brows furrowing with bewilderment. “You ain’t got to do this just because you feel bad for me, alright?” 
Raising, you sit down on his middle as you inhale deeply. “What are you talking about, Arthur?” A moment passed when his eyes closed, bringing his uninjured hands to his face to remove the cloth still covering his forehead as he let out a curse word under his breath. “You think I’m doing this in pity? No.” 
Leaning forward slightly as you shook your head, you grabbed his cheeks with both hands to make him look at you. “Ever since you left me in that cold cabin, I thought you despised me, Arthur. I felt so ashamed and didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t hate you because I love you too much.” Silence followed your words as he stared at you like they had gone in the other ear and disappeared through the other. “Trust me, this is not pity, Arthur.” Softly, you kissed his forehead, lingering there for a while as you didn’t, even for a second, ponder over what you just said. 
You felt two arms circle around your waist tightly as a gasp left your unsuspecting body when you fell on your back towards the sheets, the large body of Arthur encasing you as your lips connected in a hurried kiss. Shocked at the sudden change of events, you grab onto his arms to find stability, the fabric of his bandages reminding you of his state.
With your eyes shooting open, you try to push at the man above you so he would lie down again, the thought of him over-exerting himself a horror in the back of your mind as the severity of his wounds was apparent. This wasn’t good; you shouldn’t have let him move a single muscle when he rose from sleep; instead, prompt him to go back to sleep so he could rest his defeated body. Your emotions had gained the upper hand, and with every stroke from his broad hands, they threatened to take over again, surrendering you to his want.
You were tapping his chest in despair, but he didn’t let a single word leave your mouth as he almost swallowed you whole, a deep rumble going through his chest as he thought your moans of protest were from pleasure. Shivers wrecked through you when you felt his hands drag their way up your sides, thumbs resting just under your bosom as they stroked tenderly, ghosting over your sensitive nipples, the touch electrifying despite the layer of clothing separating you. 
“Arthur! What do you think you’re doing!?” Managing to get ahold of yourself amidst his adamant touch, you find a moment to escape the onset of his lips left on you. Your hushed words didn’t seem to phase him as a lazy grin grew on his lips, staring at you with lidded eyes; no sadness in his gaze, but a deep longing that spread like a fog over his blue orbs. Ignoring you, his mouth enveloped you as a warmth radiated through your whole body, melting like butter in his embrace.
“Say it again.” Caught up in your lips, he begged you to say the three words that fell so beautifully out of your mouth–a sense of euphoria filling his body as he basked in the moment that just passed.
“What? Come on, Arthur, you’re hur-” A had found its way into your hair, tugging slightly as the other held you from squirming against the mattress. “Please, sweetheart. Tell me you love me again.” Your breath hitched when you heard what he called you, something so fiercely pinching your heart at him, yearning for you. You never thought you would have Arthur Morgan, known for his bullheadedness and unyielding ways, begging for you. Yet here you were. 
“Say it.” His words were heavy with a desperation so fierce it backtracked you for a moment, his resilience rendering you motionless for some time. His otherwise calculating eyes grew darker with a deep want, your toes curling tightly as the hold he kept on your hair grew tighter, although not firm enough to hurt you. 
Your body felt afire at his sudden desperation, not understanding how he had the energy to hold you this intensely when his whole body was trembling. The worry you held for him in this moment paled as he rendered you completely willful in his arms, the constant nagging about his state that always seemed to stay in the corner of your mind being washed away by his loving caress.
“I love you.” Succumbing to him like you always seemed to do, the three words fell from your lips earnestly, face contorted as your mouth fell ajar. Your heart beat wildly against your chest like you had just run a marathon and only increased when a loud groan left the man perched on top of you, burying his head in your neck, face now concealed by your hair that was displayed wildly on the pillow. 
“God.” A strangled sound left him as he sucked in a sharp breath, hands coming down to lift your legs to rest by your side so he could fit his hips against your delicious warmth, skirt falling around you as he pushed your plump thighs apart. “Again.” Arthur’s voice grew firmer, not begging now but demanding it of you. Lost in pleasure, you didn’t hesitate to answer him, though this time softer as you observed the frustration filling his expression. 
“I love you, Arthur.” His stomach churned at the warmth that swirled in your eyes when you spoke, feeling like the only thing keeping his miserable being alive was your words as they pierced through his heart. It wasn’t enough, though; every time you told him you loved him, a more profound urge to hear you say it grew, urging him to leave you screaming the words. It would only be enough when he had captured your entire body and soul in the prison of his hands, the only name left in your mind his. Just like it always should be.
Caught up in his intoxicating lips, it felt like there was nothing but the two of you in the entire world, everything having been pushed away by the intensity of the desire now burning within you. Eager to be even closer to you, he sought any friction to alleviate the sharp pleasure he felt spreading in his lower stomach. The hips nestled between yours sunk further so they fit snugly against yours, now unable to escape the blissful sensation that left your mouth open in a silent moan.
“Again.” Almost all his weight was against you now, your body pressed firmly on the mattress as he almost seemed to melt into your grasp when your hands gripped his shoulder blades in wavering suspense.
“Oh, Arthur. I love you so much.” You whimper out, finding it more challenging to keep quiet as he now ruts his hips against yours like in a trance, heavy puffs of breath leaving him as he struggles against the force of his actions.
His head fell limp on your shoulder as his arms circled your waist tight, sweat dampening the cloth of your blouse immensely, seemingly having trouble breathing as he panted loudly. 
God, it felt so good, but seeing his arms shake in exhaustion showed you it was certainly taking a toll on his body. It took much of your self-control to try to get the rugged man off you, but the mere thought of him falling dead on top of you didn’t appeal to you even though every fiber of your being longed for him to continue despite his state.
“Arthur.” You got no response even though you ran your fingers through his hair to coax him away from you, whining when he rubbed against that one spot that made you jerk slightly. “Arthur, listen to me. We shouldn’t be doing this right now.”
 You weren’t even sure he had heard you as the groans leaving him made your voice a distant reminder, but it proved to have gotten to him as the pressure of his body lifted from yours. Seeing he was out of your face, you felt your mind clear when you took a deep breath, though the pleasure he warmed your body with still left you in shambles, your voice shaking every time you spoke.
Grunting, he rolled over beside you on his back, eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure. As you looked him over, his whole body was covered in a deep blush, muscles flexing in exhaust. 
“Arthur.” You sighed as you saw his appearance, still high on his touch, that left your whole body sensitive. “Why won’t you listen to me?” As he opened his half-lidded eyes, the determination you had failed to see before shone brightly in them as he raised his shaking arm toward you. 
“Ah, come here, sweetheart.” He cooed at you, his voice irresistible even though it came out in a slur, speaking like he didn’t understand why you were so resilient. “Let me take care of you.” 
Your eyes shot open as he spoke, growing speechless as the obscenity of his words backtracked you. A blush covered your face, and you grabbed your hands on your chest as you shied away from his poignant stare; suddenly, the embarrassing motion of clenching around nothing made you whimper out a no. Although your words contradicted your actions, Arthur knew, and an acknowledging grin spread lazily on his lips. 
“I’m alright, darlin’, promise. I’ve got in worse scrapes before; this is nothing. Now come here.” He said, patting his thighs as he coaxed you closer. That was a lie. Never in his life had he been so close to death as he was today, and never had he been gripped by a fever that seemed to shake up his whole body as bad as it was now. The world around him was blurry as the slightest motion made him dizzy, every fiber begging him to rest, as he could feel his psyche and body hanging on a thread. 
So, he understood where your hesitation came from, but he’d rise from the dead again and take you if he passed away without having you. Especially now that he knew you loved him. So it didn’t matter to him if he was half alive as he pounded you; he would see it through and ruin you for every man you came across.
“You’re lying to me.” You exclaimed aghast, remaining seated on your knees beside him as you gave him a concerned look. It was easy to see, for he looked more dead than alive, and while every fiber of your being begged you to force him to rest, you knew you had no chance against him. You have never had the strength to stay away from him.
When he realized you weren’t giving up, he pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes set heavily on you like you were his prey. It made you feel small in his poignant gaze, breath hitching slightly as you felt like backing away, only to be dragged closer to him. He winced as his shoulder sent a searing pain through his body at the pressure, so you had no choice but to crawl towards him in panic and push him back on the bed as he resigned, trying to put his bandage that had slipped back in place. 
Ignoring your worrying tendencies, Arthur grabbed your more petite frame in contentment when finally having you closer again, hoisting you up on his lap as his arms pushed you to lie on him, hands resting on his chest.
Choosing to resign when you realized you couldn’t get your way, you placed a few nimble kisses on his neck under his ear where a gash had been reopened, now a deep red running down his side. He pushed you flush against him, knees raising suddenly to pull you further up his body so he could gather your skirt above your waist. Arthur’s rough hands ran over the softness of your behind before wandering up to grab your underpants. Gasping at the sudden tug, you felt the material slink down your legs, the sudden exposure covering your face in a deep blush as you kicked the material off your ankles. 
“Rest your arm, Arthur.” You reminded him quietly, feeling both his arms at work as they ran over the flesh of your inner thigh tenderly. If you were going to do this, you had to ensure at least he wouldn’t hurt himself more than he already was. 
Pleased when you saw him put his arm to his side, you raised on your knees so you could start unbuttoning your blouse. It was too warm here as the night air could not enter the tent, and you hadn’t realized how scorching it left your body until now. The material clung to your wet skin as you removed the buttons, sighing in relief as you grew more exposed.
That’s when you felt him rise, helping you remove the blouse over your head as you stared at him with a bemused expression because he didn’t listen. He didn’t pay you any mind, though, burying his face in your chest as his hands ghosted over your inner thighs. Trying to stay quiet, a hushed whisper of his name left you when you felt his cheek rub against your nipple when he placed a few kisses between your breasts. Your body was running in anticipation, already on high alert, as you had gone too long without feeling his hands on you, remembering how he had touched you before.
You gasped as his tongue circled your nipple, the wet touch gliding effortlessly along your sensitive skin. Immediately, your face contorted into pleasure as your hands tangled themselves in his hair while you gripped tight on the strands, back arching as his fingers ghosted over the wet lips underneath your skirt.
God, it felt like he was eating you alive as he let his mouth feast on the soft skin, hearing your attempts at quieting your small noises with your plush thighs pushing against his sides. One of his arms travels to your hip, trapping you in the enclosure of his hand as he grinds you down further onto the bulge, erection straining painfully against his pants. 
An audible whine leaves you amidst your panting as you bring one hand to your mouth, chastising yourself for being unable to be quiet. It was impossible, though, when you could feel his clothed bulge under your exposed cunt that grew moist–slick now, rubbing against the fabric. 
He helped you drag yourself back and forth as his hand fell to the side in resignation to the pain, his movement slow as he savored the feeling of having you entirely at his mercy. You felt him mumble something against your skin as he rolled the sensitive bud on his tongue, huffing as he felt your hands grip tighter on his roots. The sudden drag of his finger against your slit made a whine leave you, pulling his head closer against you as the pleasure now running through you rendered you unable to control your body. 
“Good?” He mumbled as he massaged your clit with his fingers, although not adding enough pressure as you tried to move your hips against his hand. A quick nod left you as he planted his mouth at the juncture of your neck, wheezing as he felt your body go limp in his arms. He brought his thumb lower to feel how wet you were, the rough pads of his fingers so good against your heat as they made warmth spread through your whole body, toes curling when he suddenly spread your lips and pushed his middle and index finger into your entrance. 
Gazing down from your shoulder, he grabbed the fabric that had pooled around you and lifted it up hastily so he could see more of you. The sight of your bottom moving against his hands made him want to scrunch his eyes tight if he didn’t try to memorize the sight in front of him. The soft plumpness of your thighs looked so beautiful against his bloodied and dirty clothes, skin clean and soft. Ignoring the pain growing harsher, his other hand raised so he could run his hands along the warm skin, your back arching slightly as you rose on your knees. 
Placing soft kisses against the side of your waist that was now presented in front of his face, his hand trailed over to your bum as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, kneading the flesh roughly as he pushed your middle against him.
“Arthur.” Your quiet whining made his vision blurry, adding one more finger into your clenching hole as your nails marked half-moons into his skin. The tent was becoming scorching hot as you could feel the fever emitting heat from Arthur’s body, but his touch made you forget all about it, as you could only see white pleasure when his fingers massaged your inner walls. 
Grabbing his shoulders, you tried to push him down, but your protests were in vain as he slowly withdrew his fingers from you and gently laid you down on the mattress. For a moment, he stopped in his actions and stared at you, your blouse discarded on the floor as your plump breast had grown red from his assault and the skirt resting on your waist exposing your heat as slickness from your arousal covered your cunt and the sides of your thighs. 
But your face grabbed most of his attention as your eyes, which he had grown to love, stared back at him lovingly amidst the pleasure and want. A blush covered your face and ran down to your chest, which raced with your breath, hands restless as they seemed to almost reach out for him again. God, never had he thought you would actually look at him like this. 
An appreciative rumble left his throat as he grabbed your skirt and hoisted it down your legs, casting it hurriedly to his side as he grabbed your ankles and pushed you towards him, where he sat before you. To you, he didn’t move quick enough. Instead, he placed small, tender kisses on your ankles as he stared you down, seemingly etching you into his memory. Growing shy under his intense gaze, you try to push your legs together as he runs a finger down your slick heat, suddenly feeling very exposed without your skirt and the thought of someone entering the tent lingering in the back of your mind.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Arthur cooed at you as he pushed your thighs apart gently, your strength nothing against his as he did it with ease. “It’s okay.” A short moan left you at his words, staring at him through lidded eyes as your hands gripped the pillow under your head, not knowing where to put them. “Come ‘ere,” He whispered as he lowered himself over you, pressing his weight slightly against you as his bare skin against your nipples made your body jump, another moan leaving you from the pleasure. 
“Easy now, sweetheart,” As he rested his arms on either side of your face, he lowered his lips to yours as he pressed them against the soft skin, humming when he felt your legs wrap around his waist automatically. “You gonna be a good girl for me, hmm?” He asked when another blissful whine left you as his hand stroked up the softness of your stomach to your breast, gently rubbing your nipple with his thumb. 
“I will.” The words left you breathless as you suppressed the moans that wanted to escape you, your body growing restless against his teasing as your legs tightened against his waist, prompting him closer to you. The friction against your core felt incredibly good, but only lasted so long for Arthur to raise his hips to remove what was left of his union suit. 
As he pushed the fabric down to rest on his thighs hurriedly, your hands crept over his shoulders to run over his back, the skin still wet from the sweat running down his body under your fingers as they grew filthy from the dirt covering him and blood that had dried on his skin earlier. Grunting at your actions as you momentarily distracted him, he returned his hands to rest under your back so he could grip your shoulders. He’s probably going to get killed shortly, and if not from his injuries, from the sweet, hazy memory of you planted underneath him, staring at him like he was the only man in the world. 
You were his obsession, if not a full-fledged addict, after tonight, and he had trouble keeping his hands off you even though he knew he shouldn’t have you. Although, those thoughts were far gone now, for he yearned after you. Craved to bury himself into you–like injecting himself with that sweet high only you could bring him. 
Unable to help himself, he captures your lips again as he feels you giggle when his beard scratches your skin–a stark contrast in texture. The sound made him smile amidst his desperate actions as he tickled your waist slightly to feel you squirm against him. God, he had become soft. 
You are interrupted by the slow drag of his cock running over your puffy lips that glisten with want, eyes scrunching together as the anticipation of feeling him inside you grows more intense. He prods it around as it slips between your cheeks; you’re so slippery that it drives him right through and slides smoothly between your thighs, coating his hardness with your wetness.
Your eyes are blown wide as you look at Arthur through hazy eyes, gazing at his heaving chest as his whole body trembles. You could almost taste his desperation as the same one course through you when he grabs your hips and bends his own so he can find you–holding the weight of his cock as he slips it right in.
A gasp leaves your mouth, and he swallows the noises by planting his lips over yours. Immediately, he feels you clasp around him as you clench, the spongy, slippery walls hugging him tightly as he curses. It felt painful to press something so ugly into someone as beautiful and kind as you, but he was far too selfish to care; the need to keep the end of his promise of fucking you good was not something he was going to break, even though he could feel the lingering exhaustion threatening to make him pass out any second from the pain littering his shoulder.
Gritting through his teeth, the combined feeling of pain and pleasure coarse through his body as he slowly dragged himself out before sheathing himself into you fully. You welcomed him openly as your hands gripped his shoulders, his hands hustling your thighs up to rest beside your body as he almost folded you in half. 
Your mouth opens wider, lids dropping to cover half your eyes, with no hint of pain on your face. It leaves Arthur satisfied as he reminds himself to be gentle with you, his cock throbbing as his gaze flickers between your breast bouncing with each thrust and eyes hazy with pleasure–pleasure he was bringing you.
The lewd sound of him entering you fills the tent, and while he hopes it’s not audible outside, he isn’t sure he cares now. Although your quiet whimpers that you couldn’t help but let out, he wanted to keep to himself, pressing his hand against your mouth as he pounded into you harder.
“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how I make you feel.” He fails to conceal the possessiveness in his words as he mumbles out without thinking, too drunk in the feeling of your moans vibrating against his hands and pussy fluttering around his thick cock. He grits the words through clenched teeth, lifting his hands from your mouth so you can answer him. 
You look at him as he keeps thrusting, eyes glistening with unshed tears as you swallow him more profoundly into your cunt. “Arthur.” His name comes out in a broken, almost nonsensical voice as you find it hard to speak amidst his harsh thrusts that push you further up the bed every time. “Please, so good.” 
Your confession makes his eyes roll back, uninjured arm gripping the headboard as he repositions his hips, suddenly plowing into you harder as his face rests on your neck, body trapping you to the mattress to keep you in place. A slight sound left you from the sudden force, biting into your hand in desperation so you wouldn’t make a sound.
“Arthur!” A quiet gasp left you as he only groaned into your skin, breathing in your scent as his hips stayed relentless. “Ah, Arthur! Be careful!” Amidst your pleasure, you couldn’t help but worry when his arms extended limp beside you, and his weight grew even heavier on top of you as he almost laid down entirely if it wasn’t for his legs keeping him going. He was far too gone to comprehend what you were saying, though, as he fucks you hard but sweetly amidst his pain. 
You shudder with every thrust now, his uninjured arm on the bed circling around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. You weren’t going anywhere from him as he planted a wet kiss against your pulse, the sweet sound of your pleas from both pleasure and worry surrounding him. God, if he didn’t know any better, this felt like a dream, your soothing hands caressing his skin as he panted above you, sweat running off him like a river and soaking the bed underneath you. You made a sound through your broken whines like he was torturing you with his cock, even though you were offering your cunt to him so willingly, the thought making his body grow taut.
Arthur’s hair was soaked entirely as you gripped it, hand looking for something to hold on to as your legs tightened around his waist. You couldn’t even move with his thrusts now–only able to lie there and let him take you. 
“Arthur–god!” You tighten around him one more time, and all you can see is white as he buries his head in your neck, groaning desperately as he ruts into your heat at a pace you didn’t think was possible in his state. Raising himself up on his knees, with the last ounce of his strength, he grabs your hips and lifts up your lower half as he rams his throbbing cock into you, balls unbearably tight as they slap against your skin.
“Jesus- that’s it, hold on to me,” He grits out as your cry is muted by his hands when your walls flutter around him as you come, shattering all over him through broken sobs. Your tender hands, made to mend people, both heart and skin, grip onto his rough ones, created instead to destroy. The feeling of them running so softly over his battered body made him feel like the most undeserving man alive. Despite this, he reveled in the thought of being the one to feel your hands on him.
When you came, it became the final straw for him as he could finally feel the pressure release into a sharp pleasure that nearly blinds him. Falling helplessly into your arms, he pushed your lower half into his as he ruts mercilessly into you, walking you through your own orgasm as the first spurt of cum seeps into you.
He almost felt like a dog as you pulled him deeper into you, unable to help the way his hips pushed against yours as he thrusts into you, a white ring of his cum seeping out from your hole as your hands gripped his waist tightly. His cock still moves slightly even when there’s nothing left as the high still courses through both of you, you lying limp and frail underneath his weight. 
Arthur knew he should move, but he spent all his strength, noticeably as the black dots that had filled his vision for some time grew bigger, panting like he had run a hundred miles into your skin as his body grew heavy on yours. 
Every dream he had of you could go to hell because this was the only remedy needed in his unlawful life. Now that he had a taste of you, you grew into his own brand of morphine as the haze Arthur found himself in would erupt his whole being into an addiction. It was heaven, unfiltered and raw and so beautiful to be inside you, and he knew that if he died now, heaven would be no match for what he had in his arms.
As your high lessened and your mind grew more apparent, you cradled Arthur’s head. You nuzzled your face into his hair, rubbing his shoulders tenderly as you basked in the aftermath, finally having him in your arms after months of uncertainty and pining. You rested your heels back on the mattress, sighing as his now softening member moved inside you, leaving you both satisfied and full. You stay like that for a while, basking in the afterglow, until you notice his whole body shaking terribly as he struggles to breathe.
“Oh, Arthur!” A worried expression filled your face as you tried sitting up, although his weight made it difficult for you to move him. “Arthur, I can’t move you on my own.” Resting your hand on his cheek, you try to examine his face as he buries it further in your neck, forehead scorching under your palm.
“Shit.” You rarely swore, but now you chastised yourself for letting this progress, although you knew you did at least put up a fair fight against the headstrong man. Strained breaths left him as he rose slightly from you and rolled on his back, a short gasp leaving you as he pulled out of your suddenly too-empty walls. 
Shaking away the feeling, you turn towards him as you realize his shoulder is bare, the bandage discarded on the bed. His wound looks wildly irritated and inflamed as a harsh redness surrounds his injury. “So stubborn.” You whispered as you threw the bandage down the bed, crawling over him to grab some fresh ones you had planned to take with you when you had tended to his wounds before. “You should be resting, but instead, you think it’s the perfect moment to have sex?”
As you looked over at him while redressing his shoulder, you found him gazing at you with humor in his weary eyes. You couldn’t help but lift the corner of your mouth as the reality of the situation dawned on you, chuckling as he poked your sides–your hand coming to slap his away jokingly. 
“God, you’re so beautiful.” His voice came out in a shudder as he stared at you, tripping over his words as a groan of pain left Arthur, having not let his body take the rest it desperately needed. Setting into motion, you swing your legs over the bed and grab the bottle of alcohol. 
“Here, drink up.” He raised his eyebrow as a strained smirk played in the corner of his lips. He got a bemused look at his attempt at lightening the heavy mood that had washed over you. 
“You try’na get me drunk?” Sighing at him, wondering how he had the energy to make jokes, you brought the bottle closer to his lips. Hesitating, though, you questioned yourself if Arthur waking up with a hangover tomorrow amidst his pain was a good idea, but there was no other way to dull his pain. 
“Do you want me to knock you out instead so you won’t feel the pain from overexerting your body?” Feigning horror, he still complied as he chugged the bottle empty. You grabbed it from his hand when he was done.
“You already did, darlin’,” He rumbled as he beckoned you to lay down with him, your head resting on his outstretched arm as you stared up at him. You grew quiet for a while; the only sound audible was your shared breathing as you traced circles on his stomach. Despite you worrying to death, you felt more content now than you had ever been. His confession had filled you with more happiness than you had ever thought possible, and now, as you lay in his arms, you felt dumb for ever thinking he despised you. 
You had been so stupid, but you also pointed some of your anger at Arthur for being such a brickhead and thinking you felt less of him for who he was and what he did. Well aware of who he was, you weren’t so innocent either to be too good for him, but you knew he didn’t see it that way. You could never leave him now that you had tasted how wonderful love could feel, especially after the scare he had brought you tonight. 
“I dreamed of you, ya know.” You turn your head to look at him as you are brought from your thoughts, hand ceasing its motion on his skin as it rests on his hand. Leaning his head down to the top of your hair, he kissed against it as he breathed in. You were like raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach. The way his mind goes blank from sliding his nose over the softness of your hair.
“What? Me?” 
“Mmh.” He rumbled out, chest shaking as the indistinct sound of his voice vibrated through his body. “Every night, you came to me like a goddamn angel or somethin’.” He knew he wasn’t good with words, and as the words left him, Arthur realized they didn’t do his clumsy confession justice, but the way you looked at him like he was the most wondrous thing you had ever seen made him believe it wasn’t too bad.
“Every night, I dreamed of you. Your eyes when you stare at me in that way you always manage to do, your hands that are always so unknowingly soft-” His eyes glint with mischief as he continues. “-your round ass pressed against me-” 
Gasping, you motion to hit him, but retract your hand when you remember his injuries. “Arthur!” You whisper harshly. “-your big words that make you look smarter than you are-” Raising onto your elbow, you give him an unamused look as he chuckles slightly at your reaction to his blatant teasing.
“If you’re planning on being so funny all the time, maybe you should have become a jester instead of an outlaw.” Squinting your eyes at him, he only brings his arm around your back to push your body against his once more, still shaking slightly from laughing. Settling down, he continued. 
“Christ, I longed for you in ways you couldn’t even imagine, sweetheart.” As his voice grew low, he returned his half-lidded eyes to you while stroking your hair softly. You felt a lump in your throat forming at his words. The sweet words that felt so unfamiliar coming from his mouth did nothing short of making you putty in his hand, now finding it hard to be mad at him for the apparent strain he had put his body through.
“Every night felt easier when I had you to dream about, but that was all I let it be, for we both know I really don’t deserve you.” This was unmistakably true to Arthur, for even though he had you in his arms right now, he knew you shouldn’t be. 
“Don’t stop, Arthur.” As you whispered, you gazed into his eyes, a fluttering erupting in your stomach as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him slightly as he pulled the blanket over your naked body. “Never stop dreaming of me.” Your voice trembled slightly.
“Why would I dream now that I have you?”
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joelsgreys · 1 year
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we need you
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: Afraid of failing the two of the people he cares about more than anything, Joel decides you and Ellie are better off without him.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SET IN JACKSON. takes place during Kin. arguing, angst. helpful to know reader was not present when Joel and Tommy talked in the garage. NO mentions of age, reader has no physical description.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: welllllp i don't know about you guys, but i am DEAD inside after tonight so to cope i am going to write a little drabble. already put it in the warning/tags section, but once again, just to be on the safe side of things: potential spoilers, proceed with caution if you do not want the newest episode spoiled!
“Just what in the motherfucking hell was that, Joel?” You nearly growled, bursting through the door of the bedroom that he’d chosen to occupy for the night. Having heard the way he’d spoken to Ellie—not to mention, all that he had said to her even after her heartbreaking confession to him, her unspoken cry for him not to abandon her, all you could see in your mind was the color red. Sure, you and Joel had been through your fair share of bullshit over the years, disagreements that caused friction between the two of you weren’t all that uncommon seeing as the two of you shared similar personality traits to each other, stubbornness being one of them. But you could not, for the life of you, remember an occasion where you’d been this angry with him, this fucking livid. As you watched him sink down onto the bed without a word, your hands curled into fists at your sides. You knew it would only make matters worse, losing your temper, but you weren’t all too sure that you could contain it this time around.
The blood in your veins was bubbling, boiling hot underneath your skin.
“Are you going to fucking answer me or what?” You prompted, a cool edge to your tone despite the heat radiating throughout your body. “You’re really trying to hand her off to Tommy?”
Joel sighed, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”
“Find what out, Joel? That you went off and made a decision, and a really fucking dumb one at that, without even talking to me about it first?” You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Despite how incredibly furious you were, the sadness was heavy inside of your chest. Tt was as if Joel had forgotten the fact that for the last few months, Ellie had been under your care too, and you had every right to be a part of any decision that he made regarding her and her well-being. It hurt you to your very core that he’d done this without talking to you first, and it hurt you even deeper to know that Ellie had known about this and she’d kept it all to herself all evening.
She’d come home from the movies and when you offered her dinner, she refused to eat and stomped upstairs, locking herself in the bedroom. You’d chalked it up to nothing more than a typical teenaged girl simply having a mood swing. After all, it hadn’t exactly been the best day for Ellie. She’d arrived in Jackson and the first thing she noticed was how everyone in the colony looked at her, especially the children. She was different. She didn’t fit in, she stuck out like a sore thumb and you knew that had to have been hard for her. Not wanting to push her, you’d figured that she would come out of the room eventually and talk you about it when she was good and ready. But now that you knew the real reason why she had come home so upset, you couldn’t help but to feel guilty.
For hours, Ellie had been upstairs in that room knowing that Joel planned on dumping her on Tommy and you didn’t have the slightest fucking clue about what was going on until you’d overheard Joel and Ellie’s shouting match just moments ago.
“Joel.” You said his name in a tone neither of you recognized.
Low, venomous, borderline dangerous.
You were like a ticking bomb, seconds away from going off.
Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “She’s better off with Tommy, alright? And we both fuckin’ know that,” he said. “It’s the best thing to do for her. I’m doin’ it because I know damn good and well that if she stays with me, all I’m gonna do is have her fall into the wrong fuckin’ hands or killed.”
“You’re wrong!” You countered, dropping your arms away from your chest and back down to your sides. “Joel, don’t you dare fucking do this. Ellie doesn’t want Tommy, she wants you. She all but fucking said it right to your face just a minute ago!” You cried, pointing a finger towards the door of the room as if pointing to Ellie herself. “She admitted to you that she wouldn’t feel safe with anyone else, Joel. So don’t you fucking do this to her.”
He gripped the edge of the bed, his knuckles going ghost white. “She’ll be better off with Tommy,” he repeated himself. He paused for a brief moment, just long enough to avert his tortured gaze from yours as he said, “And so would you.”
Your mouth parted slightly in shock. “Fucking excuse me?”
“I can’t keep her safe. Hell, I can barely keep you safe! How many fuckin’ times have I almost lost you? ‘Cause I don’t move fast enough? ‘Cause I’ve made the wrong decisions? ‘Cause I’ve asked you to do somethin’ for me and turns out that I unknowingly sent you into the fuckin’ lion’s den?” He inhaled a sharp breath, and you could hear his voice breaking with each and every word that fell from his lips. “I’ve almost cost you your life how many fuckin’ times now?”
“Joel—”
“Tess died ‘cause of me.” He saw you open your mouth to protest and he quickly added, “You can sit there and tell me over and over that it wasn’t my fault ‘til you’re blue in the face, but let’s just fuckin’ be honest and tell it how it is, alright? I couldn’t get to her quick enough and now she’s dead. I won’t let you meet the same fate.” Joel reached up, raking a hand tiredly through his hair, mentally bracing himself for your reaction to what he was about to say next. “I think you should go with Tommy and get Ellie to where she needs to be. After that, you should—you should think about stayin’ here with him in Jackson. I probably don’t belong here, but you do.”
You let out a small, shaky breath of air.
“Who the hell are you to make that kind of decision for me?” You asked, willing yourself to keep yourself from crumbling into tears. “I’m sorry Joel, but you can’t make that kind of a choice for me. And do you want to know what else?” You didn’t even wait for him to respond. “You can’t make it for Ellie, either.”
“She’s fuckin’ fourteen years old—”
You took a step forward as you challenged him. “Do you really think that girl isn’t smart enough to know deep down inside what’s best for her? Tell me, do you really think that Ellie pulled everything she said out of her ass? Do you honestly think that she could ever trust Tommy the way that she trusts you?” You felt a warm tear slide down your cheek and quickly wiped it away before he could see it. “Ellie is young, but she’s not a baby, Joel. I get that sometimes we need to guide her through shit, but let’s be real. She is old enough to make decisions for herself. Maybe not all of them, but the decision that you’re trying to make for her right here, right now—it isn’t yours to make.” Another tear made its way down the side of your face as you whispered, “And the one you’re trying to make for me isn’t either.”
Joel hung his head, seemingly defeated. “Why can’t you see it’s for the best? Why are you makin’ this so hard?”
Willing your trembling legs to move, you slowly walked over to him and sank to your knees in front of him; although you tried to meet his eyes, he refused. “You care about Ellie. I know it, I can see it and I can feel it. For as much shit as you give her all the time, I know that she’s become so important to you.”
“‘Course she is,” he mumbled. “You’re both important to me.”
You reached for his hands, pulling them forward onto his lap. You placed your own hands on top of his, lacing your fingers together. “Then don’t fucking do this to us, Joel. Please. I’m already down on my knees and I will fucking beg and plead if that’s what it’s going to take.” You crouched down a little further, enough so that you could look up into his dark brown eyes. “Ellie wants to be with you, Joel. And I do too.”
Joel’s gaze glistened with tears that he tried, but failed, to keep from falling in front of you. “I’ll fail you, just like I’ve fuckin’ failed everybody else.”
“Joel, please listen to me. Hear what I am saying, for the love of Christ. We have come so far,” You said, firmly squeezing his hands in yours as if somehow that would snap him out of it. “Whether you choose to believe or not, we’ve only come this far because of you. You have done so much for us. It’s why we trust you, why we feel safe with you. Me and Ellie, we belong with you, Joel—not with Tommy, not with anyone else. We need you, okay? We fucking need you. Do you understand me, Joel?”
Joel exhaled the breath he’d been holding shakily, leaning down to be closer to you. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against yours as he tried to even out his breathing.
Rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs in soothing circles, you lifted your head and lightly pressed your lips against his forehead.
“We’re going to finish what we started,” You murmured quietly against his skin, feeling a slight shudder rack his body as a single whimper escaped him. You squeezed his hands again. “Together, Joel.”
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Text
LOVE ME NOW. (aka Mine)
Part 2 of 2 -> LOVE ME TOMORROW
modern!Aemond Targaryen x best friend!Reader
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Person A always thought the benefits part only included sex, but with Person B it also seems to include cuddling, life advice and breakfast by @creativepromptsforwriting
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; p in v, praise kink, size kink, friends turning to lovers, confessions of love, slight Jacaerys Velaryon (he is a warning in this sorry lol), possessive and protective Aemond Targaryen, female Reader
WORDS: 3.7 k
NOTES: Aaaaand Part 2 is also posted. Hope you enjoy the director‘s cut. 🤭 Take care. Smut below the cut.
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A few days had passed since the night Aemond crashed at your place and stayed the night, and you hadn’t spoken to him ever since. It wasn’t that you chose to avoid him on purpose–with several papers being due the next few weeks–but somehow you also did. 
His texts got noticeably shorter, until he eventually stopped texting you, his last message a simple ‘K’, clearly he had figured out that you indeed were ghosting him. 
The thought of him taking you out on a date didn’t sound too bad at the very beginning, probably because you were in a somewhat post-orgasmic haze when he had asked you, but your view on it changed once the possible consequences started to linger in your mind. What happened if things weren’t going to work out between you? Could you go back to being just friends? Or even friends with benefits? Or were your paths forced to part then? 
The dynamic of your situationship brought you a certain peace. There were no strings attached, and neither of you felt pressured by the seriousness that possibly came with a relationship. 
You relied on Aemond as one of your closest friends–your best friend even–and you really appreciated the advice he always seemed to give you, as well as his company in general. And you were certain you were going to lose him, and the comfort he brought you, if the plan of making things more serious would not work out. 
That was a high risk for you to take, yet you weren’t sure if your plan to avoid him until everything settled back to normal was going to make things better. There was no way it would get back to how it was before. Not after his question. Not after you ghosting him. 
You were sitting in the library, perched over a thick book. However, you had to read over the page several times, because you just couldn’t seem to focus on what was written on it–your thoughts always straying to the predicament you got yourself in. 
That was, until a presence behind you pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“I haven’t seen you in quite some time now.“ Aemond–you’d recognize that smooth voice everywhere. 
You felt his eye burning into the back of your skull, the intensity paralyzing you so much, you weren’t able to turn around to face him. Or maybe it was the shame of knowing what you had done to him. 
“Well, I was busy avoiding you, but my luck obviously ran out,“ you practically forced the words out of your mouth, only realizing how mean they had to sound once it was too late. Speaking before thinking. But by the way Aemond snickered at your remark, you knew he wasn’t angry and took it as teasing. 
The blonde moved to sit down in the chair next to you. “Yeah, obviously. It’s good I knew where to look for you, then,“ he remarked amused, hands clasped in front of him with his fingers fidgeting with one of his rings. He had probably asked your best friend Baela about your whereabouts, and certainly she was going to receive an angry message from you later. 
“Alpha Chi Sigma is throwing a frat party tonight and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?” As a date? The unspoken words lingered in the air. The hesitation in his voice finally had you looking at him, your curious gaze immediately noticing the small crease that was showing between his brows. Normally, you wouldn’t blush when someone asked you out, but it was different with Aemond, given that you’d love to do nothing more than to come with him. 
ACS was one of the most popular fraternities on campus, and you were sure the party was going to be a blast, and overcrowded as hell–which also made you aware of how serious Aemond took the matter of taking you out. With you both attending the party together, he was willing to show everyone on campus that he wanted to be with you.
“Actually, Baela and I already planned to go together.“ It wasn’t a lie. Baela had asked you to join her, you, however, had politely declined and claimed you didn’t have time. But you couldn’t tell Aemond that. “Perhaps we could meet at the party?“
His face fell ever so slightly as you brushed his invitation off, but he was quick to cover the sting of being rejected up. “Well, I’m going to meet you there then, I guess.“ And with that, he left you, a slight ache prominent in your heart, because you did not want to hurt him. 
You sighed out once you were alone, resting your face in your hands in pure despair, because it meant you had to go out tonight, and perhaps also to acknowledge your feelings for him. 
But going to that party also brought a high risk of you stumbling into your ex boyfriend as well, and you weren’t keen on having Jace and Aemond finally meet each other for real. 
Baela, on the other hand, was more than happy you ended up accepting her offer, showing in the way she practically dragged you towards the large house. And just as you expected, the house was crowded with people, leaving little to no space for you and Baela to enter it in the first place. She grabbed your hand and forced herself through the massive wall of drunk people, until you both reached the kitchen. The room wasn’t less crowded than the rest of the house, but still gave you some space to get some drinks. 
“So, did he find you today?“ Your best friend asked, and you physically couldn’t stop the urge to roll your eyes. “He did, but I thought I was clear when I said I don’t want to talk to him,“ you said, your tone a bit more serious, “…and yet you still told him where to find me.“ 
Baela chuckled, nudging you with her elbow. “And I still have no fucking clue why you’re avoiding him in the first place. You’ve been fucking for the past few months, I get it, and he finally asked you out on a date. What’s the problem? What’s your problem, Y/N?“
You were clutching the red cup in your hand tightly, choosing to drown your drink completely because you felt like you needed a certain level of alcohol for that conversation–and probably for everything that was threatening to follow after it. 
Filling the cup again, you prolonged your reply for as long as possible, until Baela snatched the bottle from your hands to pour your drink herself. “Don’t be silly, Y/N. You were always gushing over how you’d love to take things further with him, to get more serious. And now he finally dares to ask you out and you’re ghosting him. That’s bullshit.“
Baela’s advices were just as good as Aemond’s, with the difference that she constantly beat your ass for your dumb decisions and wasn’t shy to scold you for them. She brought you out of your comfort zone, and reprimanded you whenever you were self sabotaging yourself. 
“I know,“ you admitted, sighing. “It’s just–” you gulped, “–what if it doesn’t work out between us? What if everything goes downhill? I don’t want to lose him because of shit like that.“ The tight lipped smile on Baela’s face showed you that she understood your concerns, but wasn’t fine with you chickening out once things with Aemond started to get more serious. 
“You’re not going to find out if you don’t take the risk, Y/N,“ she said, taking a swig of her drink, wiggling her brows at you as she peered over the rim of her cup. “And to be fair, he doesn’t really strike me as a guy that gives up so easily.“ She probably was right, like always, but your stubborn ass didn’t want to acknowledge that. 
Much to your surprise, she wasn’t done yet. “Do me a favor and think about it. That isn’t doing any harm and could help you find the courage to take the next step with him. I bet he’d spoil your ass.“
You nodded at her, chuckling at the profanity of her words, and leant back against the counter, putting your cup down. 
“Fine, but not tonight,“ you eventually gave up, and that answer seemed to please her. “Fine, not tonight,“ she repeated. 
“Do you mind me leaving you alone for a sec? Aegon’s here, and we have something to… talk about.“ 
“God, seriously? Since when are you fucking his brother?“ You grimaced, pinching the bridge of your nose, almost sounding disgusted. Almost. 
“Well, he’s easy on the eye, and it’s better I fuck his brother and not him,“ her words were topped of with a cheeky grin in your direction. Her jesting had you snorting a bit too loudly, followed by you rolling your eyes once again. “Yeah, as if. Now go, I can’t bear to waste another minute of my life listening to your bullshit. It’s better you leave me, than having him come over here.“ Maybe Aemond’s stories of his brother had influenced your impression of him. 
She was quick to scurry off, and you were left alone, once again. The knowledge of Aegon being at the party had you growing a bit antsy, because it meant chances were high Aemond was there as well already, and you weren’t ready to meet him again. 
But what you saw next had your stomach twisting in plain shock. You caught a glimpse of an all too familiar mop of brown curls–Jace. 
Just the sight of him had any color draining from your face, your panic obvious, even though you knew about the chances of meeting him at the party beforehand. And it seemed he had a sixth sense, because way before your eyes could leave his tall figure again, they fixed with his. So he had spotted you in the crowd. 
With you being alone, it was the perfect opportunity for him to approach you, because you wouldn’t even dare to reject him. 
The flick of his wrist made it perfectly clear where his priorities lay, making quick work of dismissing whoever he was talking to. 
Your eyes darted around the small kitchen, trying to find any kind of emergency exit that made it easier for you to put as much space as possible between you and him. 
You tried to leave the place straight away, only hearing him shouting a loud “Y/N“ after you, shoving his way through some drunk people. His voice had you stopping and turning around to face him, bringing back the memories of all the times your name had left his lips before, and readying yourself for whatever confrontation was going to come at you–but it never came. When you faced him, eyes flickering from the ground up to him, you saw Jace looking somewhat irritated–and intimidated–almost as if he was cowering beneath something. Or someone. 
A furrow was visible on your brow, more so as he only muttered an ‘it was nice to see you’ to you, before slowly retreating again. In the last seconds, you noticed his dark eyes fixating on a spot behind you.
When you turned around to follow Jace’s trail of sight, you spotted Aemond standing not too far away from you, standing in a corner with his shoulder leaned against the wall. His whole body was tense, chiseled jaw clenched and expression on his face as stern as never before, and the gaze he flashed your ex truly was intimidating. If you didn’t know him, you’d cower beneath it yourself. It was stern, cold even, as if he was daring Jace to take just one more step closer towards you, waiting for him to start a fight. And by the way the brunette all but ran off, Aemond’s plan obviously worked. 
You turned to face Aemond, still frowning. “I could’ve handled that myself,“ you hissed, still processing what had happened. 
Pushing himself off the wall, he sauntered over to you, not the trace of a smirk or grin on his lips. “Thank you, Aemond, for scaring off my fucking asshole of an ex boyfriend,“ was his snarky reply. 
In any other setting, you would have laughed about it, but it wasn’t the right time. 
He took a few steps closer to you, until he was looming above your small frame like he always did. But this time it was different, because an emotion you had never spotted on his face before was written all over his features. Concern. “Can we talk?“ 
There it was, the question you had dreaded for so long. It was inevitable to discuss what was plaguing the both of you, so you just nodded approvingly. 
He held out his hand for you to take, and you complied, allowing him to guide you through the crowd and upstairs until you found an empty room. In this case the master bathroom. 
Once he had locked the door behind you, he pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear that had fallen out of his neat low bun, seemingly pondering over the right words to say. 
But this time, you beat him to it. 
“I’m sorry, Aemond,“ you admitted, your shoulders falling in defeat, and you could feel your throat tightening under his surprised gaze. “I-I didn’t want to be a bitch and ghost you,“ you sighed with a shaky breath, deciding on letting him know the truth behind your rejection. 
“It’s just–I’m afraid things are not going to work out between us, and I don’t want to lose you.“ With tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall, your vision grew blurry, and if it wasn’t for Aemond closing the distance between your bodies to catch you in a searing kiss, you would’ve sat down to bury your head in your hands. 
The kiss was different from the ones you both had shared before. His lips held onto yours protectively, almost lovingly, like he couldn’t stand to part from your soft touch. It was sucking the air straight out of your lungs. Something in the way he cupped your face ever so delicately to pull you closer, made you lightheaded and desperate for more. But the kiss also was demanding, and all of a sudden, the guilt you had felt before washed away. 
With Aemond deepening the kiss, he slowly stepped you back against the vanity, until the edge of it pressed firmly into your ass. 
You reluctantly pulled away from his lips to catch your breath, looking behind you to check where exactly he had guided you to.Aemond, however, did not really give you any time to recuperate, because his hands quickly wandered to your thighs to hoist you up and sit you down on top of it.
The movement and the coldness of the marble against your exposed thighs had you squealing in surprise, and with your face almost being on one level with Aemond’s, you couldn’t help but to notice how kiss-swollen his pouty lips already were. You reached to trace them with your index finger, your eyes carefully following the movement of it seemingly mesmerized, whilst his eye was only glued to you. 
There was a silence between the pair of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, despite being thick with tension–sexual tension. 
“And what now?“ You asked, cutting through it, and phrasing what you both wanted to ask the other. 
“I don’t fucking care if you’re afraid things aren’t going to work out, because I’m not. I want you,“ he all but barked, possessive as ever. “You belong to me and no one else. You’re mine.“ The statement surprised you, and there was little you could retort to that, wanting nothing more than to be his. 
You swallowed thickly, bowing your head for a nod and stuttering an, ‘I-I am yours, Aemond.’
The change in his demeanor and the possessiveness of his words caused you to shift in your seat, and with him standing between your parted legs, there wasn’t any opportunity for you to squeeze them together and soothe the aching between your legs. Some of your arousal already coated the center of your panties, sticking it to your swollen folds in an uncomfortable way. 
Aemond seemed to notice your aroused state, one hand eagerly surging up the skirt of your dress and tugging your soaked panties to one side. The other, less impatient hand withdrew his rock hard cock from the confines of his pants and wasted no time in lining himself up with you, the bulbous tip prodding at your entrance.
But before he was able to thrust into you, you placed a hand on his chest to stop him. The impatient groan he made didn’t go unnoticed by you, even though it was really quiet.
“Are you sure it’s not just because you’re jealous of Jace?“ With your voice being barely a whisper, you addressed the elephant in the room, desperately searching for his reassurance that he did not just want you out of sheer jealousy. 
“This is about us, and not him,“ his raspy voice rang out, thick with arousal and somehow giving you all the reassurance you needed. His eye found yours, it was a few shades darker than usual, and wide blown with lust, but still granting you the all to familiar solace. 
The nod you gave him wasn’t only to acknowledge his words, but also to give him the consent to continue. There was no need for you to say it out loud–the message being as clear as ever with you wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist, encouraging him to slowly ease himself into you. Both moaning gratuitously, your heart soared as he filled you completely in one thrust.
Aemond cursed through shattered gasps, “f-fuck, I will never get used to how fucking tight you are, Y/N.” His length plunged deep inside you with languid, fluid pumps. His tone was smooth and sweet as honey, and his devouring motions indicated that something about Aemond was different in that moment. There was a certain urgency in him. He had something to prove to you.
The agonizingly slow rocking of his hips into yours practically lit your whole body on fire, the familiar coil in your belly tightening quickly. With the burning sensation filling your veins, you couldn’t stop yourself from tugging his blonde hair, your fingers entangling into the strands at the nape of his neck.
Whilst you were moaning, Aemond was hissing at the pain your fingers caused, but it only seemed to spur him on even more. He pulled back until nothing more than the tip of his cock remained buried inside of you, only to seat his length back inside you with one swift curl of his hips, having you both cry out in unison.
He practically filled you to the brim, and even though you should have been used to it by now, you still loved the feeling of being completely stretched out by him. “You–You’re so deep,“ you whimpered at the rising pressure within you, Aemond’s tip relentlessly grazing your most sensitive spot. “You fucking like that, baby?“ His raspy voice retorted, which only had you nodding and moaning in return, especially at the use of a pet name you hadn’t heard before.
His head dipped towards you, and whilst you tilted yours up to catch his lips in a kiss, he moved to kiss your exposed neck instead, blazing hot kisses to your delicate skin. It wasn’t what you expected, but you weren’t sad either. 
He nibbled and sucked on your skin, eliciting several moans to fall past your lips. “I’m in love with you,“ he murmured softly against your body, hoping you wouldn’t hear him over the moans that slipped past your plump lips, and judging by the way your eyes journeyed to the ceiling and your head tipped back because of the pleasure he caused you, you did not seem to notice. 
He set a steady pace rocking into you, reveling in the way you practically melted into him as you arched your back and angled your hips. That was, until his thumb found your clit, tracing small, determined circles over your little bundle of nerves. That granted you enough pleasure to teeter over the edge in an instant, your walls fluttering all around his length. 
With the pleasure clouding all your senses, you almost did not hear his purrs along the lines of ‘such a good girl for me’ and ‘taking me so fucking well’. He was praising you, even though you broke a rule and did not ask for his permission to come.
It took Aemond a few more thrusts until he came undone inside of you, a gratuitous grunt accompanying his harsh thrusts. His cock twitched vigorously, spending inside of you and coating your fluttering walls. 
As you both unleashed strained moans, Aemond kissed your lips desperately, dipping his head and emphasizing the gesture and his feelings towards you. 
With the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly subsiding, he rested his forehead against yours, and Aemond smiled softly against your equally kiss-swollen lips. For a few seconds, your heavy breathing was the only sound filling the room. 
“Do you still doubt my intentions?“ Aemond asked, his smooth voice filling your ears. 
You shook your head and captured his lips, your hands traveling from his neck to his face to cup it. He chuckled as he tilted his head back to withdraw his lips from yours, slowly pulling out so he could help you get off the vanity. Before your hands were able to straighten your dress and adjust your panties, Aemond’s had already put everything back in its place, and a warmth spread through your body at his aftercare. 
“Come on, let’s leave this fucking place and go home. I want to spend some time with my girl.“ 
“You know,“ you started, the way your voice turned into a sheepish whisper catching his attention, causing him to stop in his tracks and look down at you. You reached for his large hand to intertwine your fingers with his in a reassuring manner, while your other fidgeted with one of his rings.  
A soft blush was covering your cheeks, and it certainly didn’t come from your previous encounter. 
“I‘m in love with you, too.“
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alastxrs · 3 months
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Hey, saw you you took requests, could you do some fluffy head cannons with velvette x male reader where reader is a fallen angel and they are short but they have huge fuckin wings, and can u make them an angy lil fella
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𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥
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Y/N is of course a fallen angel
He's around 5'5
The reason he fell is due to his pride and his wrath
Now his wings are bigger than he is
He thought that he would lose them when he fell but nope! His wings are just black now
His wings will forever be beautiful, better than any other angel's wings
He'll sometimes let Velvette do whatever with them
The way he and Velvette met actually was because Y/N was screaming to someone about them touching his wings
He's just angry about having big wings but he gets worse rage when people touch his wings! (the only one who gets a pass is Velvette because you two actually get close until she asks you out)
He almost killed Valentino because he tried to touch his wings and have sex with him
Once Velvette and Y/N start dating, he's been comfortable with letting her touch his wings
She'll be the one to take care of his feathers
She'll just randomly caress his cheeks just to see his wings flop
His wings can wrap around the both of them while hugging or cuddling
Her nicknames for him are dove, midget, and doll
His nicknames for her are darling, my love, and Vel
He hates Vox and Valentino with a passion but will help Velvette with anything
Velvette is seriously the only one who can calm Y/N down
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❝𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒!❞
Velvette jumped when she heard the scream from inside the room she shared with her boyfriend.
She was used to it yet it caught her off guard every time.
Vox tilted his head when looking up from his phone. "Your boyfriend has been in town here for a while yet he's always screaming about his wings instead of your name." he hummed, mainly teasing her.
"Fuck off, Vox!" She flipped her business partner off as an annoyed look formed on her face. "At least I can control my man."
Vox scoffed rolling his eyes. "I'm not his keeper you know."
"Well you should be, your boy toy is fucking irritating."
"He's not my boy toy."
"That's not what last night was telling me, he was screaming your name." That made Vox shut his mouth and the television head turned his head away to avoid her smug smirk.
The female Overlord just walked away from the other not wanting to continue the conversation and to check on her lover.
Upon entering the room, where her partner was.
Y/N was laying on the bed with his wings completely covering the bed and his arms crossed, she knew how much he hated his wings mainly due to how big they were.
"Hey, dove-" She started before she was cut off by him.
The fallen angel sat up at the sight of his girlfriend with an irritated look on his face. "That bitch, Valentino fucking scared the shit out of me again!" He spoke as he fixed his hair and he looked at his wings with a frown. "He tried asking me for a threesome again! I don't like sharing you!!!"
Velvette couldn't help but smile as she approached her boyfriend and gently caressed his cheeks to make him look at her, she gently rubbed his cheeks while listening.
"And I refuse to fuck that flat-faced fuck!" Y/N was slowly relaxing and he wrapped his arms around her waist. ".....and- fuck you can't keep calming me down like this whenever I get mad...."
The taller demon chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, only he could see this side of her.
Like only she can see his soft side.
The woman kept kissing all over his face. " I like it when you're putty in my hands, doll~!" She teased just to see the blush on his cheeks, she moved to sit on his lap as she pushed him down. "I mean look at how cute you are!"
Velvette took her phone out and took a picture of Y/N before she showed him in the picture.
Of course, she wasn't going to post the picture.
Only she can see the hickeys on his neck from the night before.
"Darling...." The male mumbled as he grabbed her phone and placed it on the stand next to their bed before he pulled her into a kiss, his wings wrapped around her to keep the both of them close. He pulled away from the kiss for a second. "You are so lucky I love you."
The Overlord giggles as she begins kissing all over his face.
A yelp escaped his face and he tried to cover his face so that he could stop her from kissing his face. "No!"
Velvette grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.
"Don't hide your pretty face from me, dove! Heaven gave it to me and you aren't hiding it from me."
That made the short-tempered fallen angel's face flustered and he couldn't help but laugh as he leaned into the kisses he was getting on his lips.
"Well as your 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞, you should spoil me again tonight hm?" Y/N's wings soon disappeared now that he was relaxed, she let go of his wrist as he moved his hands to her hair. "I do want to remind others that I'm taken by the most sassiest of the Vees~!"
And of course, she couldn't deny her little dove from heaven.
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This method....is very affective....
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156 notes · View notes
svnoohe4rts · 1 year
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BEST FRIENDS ! ― sim jaeyun
↳ pairing: inexperienced!jake x fembodied!reader
↳ summary: jake is desperate to lose his virginity, and since you’re his best friend, you agree to help him out.
↳ word count: 4,6k
↳ a/n: hihi !! i decided i’d repost one of my old fics since it never showed up in the tags,, i’ve changed some things, but other than that it’s the exact same fic :’) let’s hope it shows up in the tags this time </3
i’ve also decided this will be the last fic i post before i go on a small hiatus for a while . there’s a lot of things going on right now & i simply don’t have the time to be active, hence why i feel like going on a small hiatus seems necessary. i won’t be back until after new years, so happy christmas & happy new years ! thank u all so much for this amazing year & for all the incredible feedback i’ve gotten, i can’t wait to see what next year has in store for this blog :’) i love each & every one of u, until next time <3 all feedback is appreciated ! <3
i won’t be deleting the original post for this fic, u can find it here !
↳ warnings: SMUT ! MDNI . | mentions porn, protected sex let me know if there’s anything else i should add !
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JAKE KNOWS HE SHOULDN’T.
Hell, he knows god damn well he shouldn’t even consider it; but the urge to lose his virginity was stronger than his sense of morality at this point. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all, right?
Jake was a simple man. He jerked off whenever he felt the need to, only watching porn if he felt like his imagination wasn’t enough to satisfy his urges. Jake had kissed at least three girls in total during his twenty years on planet earth, including the one he kissed back at the playground in middle school; it was his first kiss, after all, why wouldn’t he count that one?
It had never gone past kissing though. The most intimate thing he had done was probably grabbing a girl's ass while awkwardly making out at a party and the next most intimate thing he had ever experienced was probably the time a girl's hand accidentally brushed against his crotch. Not that he complained though.
He was content with his right hand, it certainly got the job done and he knew exactly how to give himself the best possible experience; so what was there to possibly complain about? Well, Jake decided to put the blame on Heeseung for that one.
If Heeseung had never walked into the room with the biggest smile Jake had ever seen on his lips back when they were 16, Jake would’ve never found himself in this situation. If Heeseung just hadn’t decided to brag about how he lost his virginity to his prom date the night before, Jake certainly never would’ve questioned his right hand and its ability to satisfy him. But of course, Heeseung just had to tell him all about how amazing it was and that he would never ever jack off ever again because nothing could ever even compare to the feeling he had just experienced, as Heeseung himself had claimed. He became a changed man, he said, and there was no way he’d ever go back to just using his right hand. 
So in a way, Heeseung was definitely the cause of 16-year-old Jake's misery.
Then Jay lost his virginity the following summer. He also claimed he’d never ever go back to jerking off, going into great detail about how he had lost his virginity with the slightly older girl next door while mowing her father's lawn; sneaking into the shed while her father was sitting by the pool, reading the daily newspaper. Jake refused to jerk off that night, staring at the ceiling as he questioned what was so great about sex and why his right hand suddenly couldn’t even compare to a feeling he had never experienced for himself.
No matter how angry and confused Jake was, he found comfort in knowing one thing. It didn’t matter if both Heeseung and Jay had lost their beloved V card, because he still had Sunghoon. 
Sunghoon was also a virgin and Jake was sure about one thing and one thing only; he was most definitely going to lose his virginity before his introverted friend did.
As senior year of high school rolled around, both Jake and Sunghoon were still virgins; which Jake found great comfort in. Knowing he wasn’t the only one in his friend group who was still a virgin comforted him, knowing he wasn’t alone in his misery; knowing he wasn’t the only one who had yet to get his dick wet.
Until one day, Sunghoon showed up at school with the same forsaken smile that both Heeseung and Jay had worn and Jake knew he was doomed the second he spotted his friend’s smile. He didn’t even have to listen to his friend talking about how it happened, the feeling of defeat had already settled in by the time Sunghoon had even said hi.
So moral of the story, if Heeseung never decided it would be a good idea to make Jake question his whole existence back when he was 16, Jake wouldn’t be in this situation.
And that certain situation being him about to ask you, his best friend of many years, to take his virginity. 
‘’Earth to Jake,’’ Your hand waving in front of his eyes snapped him out of his thoughts, slightly jumping in surprise by your sudden action. Jake looked up at you, a chuckle trailing off your lips as you plopped down beside him. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’
He had known you almost his whole life, you had been the one to force him into kissing that one girl at the playground back in middle school after all; no matter how much he whined and refused you were the one who pushed him in front of the swings and cheered him on as he shyly pecked the other girl's lips. You had also been the one to comfort him after the girl ran off, crying about how she didn’t even want to kiss him in the first place; a moment that probably severely bruised Jake's ego for the rest of his life.
He had never even thought of you as anything other than his best friend, the thought of having sex with you never even crossed his mind before. The thought made him cringe, his stomach turning inside out at the thought of ever seeing you naked, almost gagging that one time his dear friend talked about how cute you were and he most definitely would take the opportunity if ever given to him.
And at 19 years old, Jake once again blamed Heeseung for his misery. If Heeseung had never said those words, the thought would never have crossed his mind and he wouldn’t be sitting in your bed rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. But thanks to Heeseung and his inability to keep his thoughts to himself, Jake came to the realization that you were probably his best bet at losing his virginity at this point.
But how on earth was he supposed to tell you that without embarrassing himself, possibly scaring your friendship for life? Jake just frowned, shaking his head as he continued to rub his palms against the fabric of his jeans; desperately trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely shitting himself. You cocked an eyebrow, your eyes darting over to his now very obviously sweaty hands. ‘’Is there anything wrong, Jake?’’
‘’No,’’ Yes, there was something very, very wrong. ‘’I mean, not really. I don’t want to talk about it.’’ 
He wasn’t lying, Jake most certainly did not want to talk about what was on his mind. You, on the other hand, were obvious to the fact that your friend was very obviously distressed about something and wasn’t going to let it slide that easily. ‘’C’mon, you can tell me anything.’’
Hey, Y/N, wanna take my virginity? No, he simply could not tell you everything.
 Jake glared at you for a moment, a sigh escaping his lips as he realized you weren’t going to give up until he actually told you what was on his mind. He threw his head back in annoyance, staring at the ceiling as he accepted his fate. He was going to make an absolute fool out of himself, but at least it was with you, the one person who would never make fun of him, right? 
‘’Promise me you won't make fun of me?’’ He mumbled, refusing to look at you as he mentally prepared himself for embarrassment. You only nodded in response, furrowing both your eyebrows; growing slightly worried by your friend's behavior. ‘’You’re acting like something horrible happened, what's up?’’ You asked, your eyes glued to the boy sitting beside you.
Well, something horrible did happen. At least in Jake’s world, this was the most horrifying thing that could possibly ever happen. Jake kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, taking a deep breath before squeezing his eyes shut. ‘’Can you take my virginity?’’
Complete silence fell over the room. Jake kept his eyes shut, too scared to ever open them again; the silence only made him feel even more anxious. At this point, Jake wasn’t even breathing, regretting all his life choices leading up to this very moment, wanting to sink through the ground and simply disappear. It wasn’t until he suddenly heard a loud snort coming from beside him he dared opened his eyes, snapping his head towards you.
The sight in front of him only made him want to disappear from the face of the earth even more. You had one of your hands placed over your mouth, trying your best to suppress your laughter but failed miserably, breaking out into laughter. Jake just stared at you, a frown on his face. ‘’I said don’t make fun of me!’’ Jake groaned, burying his face in both his hands in an attempt to hide his red cheeks as you continued laughing. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ You laughed, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at this point as you tried controlling your laughter.
‘’Fuck off,’’ Jake mumbled into his hands, his ears turning red from embarrassment. ‘’Just forget I ever said anything.’’ He continued as you wiped the tears that had spilled down your cheeks away, small chuckles still leaving your lips. Another silence fell over the room, the only noise being heard was Jake’s breathing into his hands as he thought about how he was supposed to ever recover from the amount of embarrassment he had just experienced. 
‘’I mean, why not?’’ Your voice suddenly broke the silence, causing Jake to peek through his fingers; his eyes landing on you. ‘’What?’’ He let out, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together as he kept his eyes glued on you. You shrugged in response, looking over at the boy. ‘’You’re my best friend after all, so I don’t see why I wouldn’t help you out.’’
Jake took his hands off his face, his eyes wide as he stared at you in shock.  Now that you had said yes, he had no idea what to do or how to act. He had fully prepared himself for you saying no, but yes? He hadn’t even considered the fact that you might’ve said yes. 
‘’What?’’ He stuttered, causing another chuckle to trail off your lips. ‘’Why are you acting so surprised? You were the one who asked me stupid,’’ You chuckled, Jake's lips parting in surprise. ‘’I mean, I know, but I just,’’ He mumbled, stumbling over his own words as he spoke. ‘’I just didn’t expect you to say yes, alright?’’ He let out, trying to figure out if you were just playing with him or if you were actually being serious.
But by the way you simply just shrugged and by the lack of a playful look on your face, he realized you were actually serious. Oh god, you were actually serious about taking his virginity. ‘’Are you actually serious?’’ He asked once more, letting his hands fall into his lap as he continued looking for any signs that indicated that you were in fact playing a prank on him. You nodded in response, a small smile forming on your lips. ‘’I think it’s better you lose it with me so you don’t have to embarrass yourself when you actually hook up with someone.’’
Jake parted his lips, getting ready to defend himself but quickly realized there was no point in arguing; because you were right. 
He had no clue how to possibly make his first time enjoyable for the other person, hell, he didn’t even know how to make it enjoyable for himself. He was completely clueless, except for all the things his friends told him and the things he had seen in porn, and the things he had pictured in his mind of course; but he knew the things he pictured in his mind were way different from the real thing.
Maybe losing his virginity to you wasn’t as bad after all. Unlike him, you weren’t a virgin and Jake could guarantee you knew way more than he did; plus you were one of his best friends, so what could possibly go wrong? ‘’So, like, when do we do it?’’ Jake stuttered, looking over at you once again. Another chuckle emerged from your throat, moving closer to the boy sitting beside you; Jake's eyes following your every move. ‘’Jake, it’s not an appointment, we don’t need to set a date you know,’’ You joked, but Jake only stared at you with wide eyes.
As you moved closer and Jake could now feel your thigh touching his, he came to the realization that losing his virginity to you was in fact a very bad idea. He had been close to you many times before, it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to get psychical with each other. Holding hands, hugging, and even cuddling while watching a scary movie; it usually wasn’t weird at all. But as your thigh touched his, while talking about you taking his virginity, it felt extremely weird. It felt more than just weird, it felt horrifying. ‘’But how am I supposed to know when if we don’t plan it?’’ He let out, his eyes glued to your thigh; suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that you only kept moving closer.
‘’Jake?’’ You let out, causing him to look up at you; his eyes still wide as he noticed how incredibly close your face now was to his. ‘’Yeah?’’ He breathed, not knowing where to look without his eyes landing on your glossy lips. ‘’Can I kiss you?’’
At that moment, he fully panicked and he was sure it showed by the way his whole body froze; he had never been asked that question before and he certainly did not expect you to be the first person ever to ask him that. He stared at you, your eyes darting between his eyes and lips, waiting for his response. Jake placed his bottom lip between his teeth, nervously nibbling on it; he had gone way too far to say no. ‘’Yes.’’
Before he could even prepare himself, he felt your lips press against his. As he felt your lips press against his own, he suddenly regretted everything. He regretted ever even bringing up the topic, he regretted ever even considering it; why the hell would he ever even want to lose his virginity to his best friend? ‘’Relax, okay?’’ You suddenly murmured, causing Jake to snap back to reality; realizing he hadn’t even kissed you back. 
Fuck it, if he was actually going to lose his virginity, he might as well make the most of it.
So he nodded, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips against yours once again. Your lips felt soft against his, your strawberry lipgloss transferring onto his own; feeling himself slightly relax as you placed one of your hands on the nape of his neck. The kiss was soft and as much as Jake hated to admit it, he was actually enjoying it. With his eyes closed, he didn’t have to face reality; that it was, in fact, his best friend he was kissing.
That was until he felt you shift beside him, your lips still attached to his; suddenly feeling your weight being placed on top of him. He quickly opened his eyes only to see you sitting on top of him, straddling his lap. You must’ve noticed the way he immediately tensed up again, his eyes scanning your figure as a chuckle left your lips. ‘’Don’t think too much about it, okay?’’ You let out, placing your hands on the back of his neck; your eyes meeting.
How was he supposed to not think too much? It wasn’t like it was the first time you sat on his lap like this, but this time was different; this time was very very different compared to your usual play fights where you sometimes ended up on his lap. Jake doesn’t remember you kissing him in those playfights, but that was exactly what was happening right now. He only nodded in response, gulping as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his once again.
Jake once again fluttered his eyes close, trying to focus on your lips moving against his instead of the fact that you were straddling his lips; accidentally grinding against this crotch every now and then. He suddenly felt you grab both his hands, placing them on your hips before returning your hands to the back of his neck. Jake quickly caught on as he slipped his hands under your shirt, your warm skin greeting his cold hands. You hummed in response, causing Jake to relax further into the kiss as he realized he had done something right by slipping his hands under your shirt.
The deeper the kiss got, the more Jake started to believe that maybe this wasn’t as bad of an idea as he had originally thought. The taste of your strawberry lipgloss was now slowly making him want more, his tongue slipping into your mouth; the small moan leaving your lips taking him by surprise. He felt a small smirk forming on his lips as he ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling you slightly tug at his hair; the kiss getting more and more desperate.
‘’You’re not a bad kisser you know,’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing a shade of red to spread across Jake's cheeks; keeping his lips attached to yours in an attempt to hide his now red cheeks. His hands slowly made their way down your sides, creeping closer and closer to your ass before gently grabbing it; a groan leaving his throat. As he kneaded your ass through your pants, he couldn’t help but press his crotch against your clothed core; now getting slightly impatient. But as your lips left his and your eyes met, he suddenly became nervous; had he done something wrong? Was he moving too fast?
‘’Do you want to take my shirt off?’’ Your words made his now semi-hard cock twitch, beginning for any type of attention as he quickly nodded in relief. You smiled at him as you guided his hands towards the hem of your shirt, watching as he slowly pulled your shirt over your head; revealing your chest. He stared at your chest with wide eyes, the only thing hiding your breasts being your bra; trying his best not to let out a groan. ‘’You can take it off.’’ You let out, causing Jake’s hands to immediately start fiddling with the clasps at the back of your bra.
After a few moments of Jake struggling, insisting that he could do it; your bra slowly slid off your body. Jake couldn’t help but stare at your bare chest, his cock growing harder at the sight of your hard nipples. He had seen you in bikinis multiple times, but something felt different this time; he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off you. ‘’Can I touch them?’’ He managed to get out, his eyes meeting yours. ‘’You don’t have to ask Jake, do whatever you feel comfortable doing.’’ You let out softly, causing Jake to immediately place one of his hands on top of one of your breasts; attaching his lips to one of your nipples.
A loud gasp left your mouth as he swirled his tongue around your hard nipple, his other hand finding its way to your other breast. It was no secret that Jake knew how to use his tongue even though he had never actually done it judging by the way he constantly had his tongue out, you’d be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him and his tongue at least once. But his tongue playing with your nipple while his other hand pinched and massaged your other breast felt way better than you could’ve ever imagined, throwing your head back as a whimper left your lips.
That whimper went straight to Jake's now hard cock, feeling it twitch against one of your thighs. He kept his lips attached to your nipple, his other hand massaging your other boob as he looked up at you. The sight in front of him made him feel like he was about to cum right there and then, feeling the precum leaking from his tip stick to the fabric of his now very tight boxers. You slowly started rocking your hips against this hard-on, a groan leaving his throat as he pressed rough kisses all over your chest, his hands still playing with your nipples.
You quickly brought your hand to his hair, pulling him into another kiss; this time a much rougher kiss. It was extremely messy and needy, his fingers digging into the skin of your sides as he desperately dragged your lower body against this crotch; desperate for any type of friction. ‘’Can I suck you off?’’ You mumbled into the kiss, causing Jake to pull away.
Now, normally Jake would’ve screamed yes. Getting head was on top of his list, all his friends talked about receiving head like it was the best thing ever; even better than actually fucking. But right there and then, Jake wanted nothing more than to feel you around him, causing him to shake his head. 
‘’I want to fuck you Y/N,’’ He breathed, still lightly guiding your lower body back and forth. ‘’Please?’’ He let out, his eyes meeting yours. You only replied by smashing your lips against his once again, pulling him down so he was now hovering above you.
You quickly undid his belt, your lips still attached; hungrily moving against one another before he pulled away; only to pull his shirt over his head, his full upper body on display. You stared at him for a moment, admiring his body before his lips met yours once again. He helped you pull his pants down completely, your hand coming in contact with the outline of his fully hard cock; a gasp leaving your lips. Jake couldn’t help but let out a groan as your hand finally wrapped around the outline of his cock, dipping his head between the space where your neck and shoulder meet.
With your hand wrapped around his cock, he realized why his friends claimed they’d never jerk off ever again. Your hand felt completely different compared to his right hand, a feeling he wanted to experience again and again; never wanting his own right hand to come near his cock ever again. 
He immediately began fiddling with the button of your pants, not wanting to wait any longer; afraid he’d cum right there and then if he didn’t get to fuck you within the next 30 seconds. Your hand left his cock, a whine almost leaving his throat as you helped him get your own pants off; one of his hands finding its way down your underwear the second your pants slid down your legs.
‘’Fuck,’’ He mumbled into the pillow as he felt the sticky fabric against his fingers, hooking one of his fingers under your underwear before slowly sliding them down your legs. He propped himself up using one of his arms, looking down at your glistening core; another groan leaving his lips. ‘’Can you please fuck me now?’’ Your whine made him look up at you, his eyes wide; filled with anticipation. 
You looked beautiful. Jake always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you laying underneath him with lust-filled eyes, you looked ten times more beautiful to him. 
He only nodded in response as he pulled his underwear down, his cock hitting his abdomen; his tip red and leaking precum, still begging for attention. ‘’Do you have condoms?’’ You asked, your eyes meeting his; realizing you probably don’t have any laying around. A small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed his pants, searching through his pockets. ‘’Of course I do, you never know when you might lose your virginity.’’ He smiled as he pulled out a condom, causing you to roll your eyes as he ripped the package open.
Jake suddenly became nervous as he lined his cock against your entrance, his eyes meeting yours once again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small smile; noticing the worry in his eyes. ‘’Take your time, okay? Do what feels good for you,’’ You reassured him, causing Jake to nod in reply once again; rubbing his tip against your entrance, collecting your arousal.
The second Jake pushed his tip inside of you, he realized what his friends had been talking about all this time. He let out a deep breath as he felt your wet walls clench around him, burying his head in the pillow beside you once again as he tried to keep himself together. The feeling of your tight walls pulsating around him felt nothing like he had imagined, it felt so much better; way better than your hand had felt.
A small moan left your lips as he pushed his cock all the way in, grabbing onto his shoulders as you parted your lips. ‘’You’re so big,’’ You whimpered into his ear, causing Jake to let out a groan. ‘’I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that,’’ He mumbled, pressing a small kiss onto your neck.
After staying still for a minute, getting used to the feeling and collecting himself, he slowly began pulling out. Your walls dragging along his hard cock, coating him in your arousal felt like nothing he had ever experienced before; his friend's endless bragging suddenly making so much sense. He thrusted into you once again, another moan leaving your lips; causing Jake to repeat his actions.
His thrusts were awkward at first, trying to figure a pace that worked for him without him immediately being close to his release; but soon enough, he found a pace that worked for him and it certainly seemed to be working for you as well. 
‘’Fuck, Jake,’’ You moaned, throwing your head onto the pillow beside you as he kept thrusting into you, grunts leaving his lips, his lips occasionally pressing wet kisses against the skin of your shoulder. ‘’Feels so good,’’ He grunted against your skin, his thrusts becoming even harsher. ‘’You’re doing so good,’’ You whimpered, the familiar feeling of warmth building up inside of Jake’s stomach.
Your words only made Jake thrust into you harder, causing even louder moans to leave your lips as his speed increased. You could tell he was close to his release by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppier, grunts spilling from his lips. 
It didn’t come as a surprise to either you or Jake that he was already on the verge of reaching his orgasm. You didn’t even mind the fact that you probably wouldn’t get to cum, the pretty sounds leaving his lips were more than enough for you.
‘’I’m gonna cum,’’ He suddenly let out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around him. ‘’Cum for me,’’ You mumbled into his ear, a final groan leaving his lips as he spilled his seed into the condom wrapped around his cock. Loud moans left his throat as he continued sloppily thrusting into you; riding out his own orgasm.
Heavy breathing filled the room as he rolled over, collapsing next to you; sweat dripping down his forehead. You turned around, looking over at the exhausted boy beside you; pieces of hair sticking to his forehead. He looked over at you, a small smile forming on his lips. You ran your hand through his hair, pushing the pieces of hair that had fallen onto his forehead away; a small forming on your lips as well. 
‘’Did I do well?’’ He let out after a moment, still panting, not taking his eyes off you. You nodded in response, moving closer to him. ‘’You did really well.’’ You mumbled as you placed your head on his chest, feeling one of his arms wrap around your waist. ‘’I guess I’m no longer a virgin,’’ He chuckled, causing you to chuckle as well. ‘’Not even a thank you?’’ You let out, your eyes meeting his.
‘’You’re the best, thank you.’’ He smiled, a small smile forming on your lips; wrapping an arm around his torso. ‘’I’m your best friend after all.’’
‘’Maybe you can give me head next time, since you’re my best friend?’’
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