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icallhimjoey · 8 months

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♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, afab!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot, mentions of reader having hair long enough to be played with

Author’s note: oooohh trouble in paradise? or maybe not... well, at least there's some realisations. a few of them. we'll see how much they'll actually mean and if it'll change anything.

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe had been thrown for a loop.

What the fuck was that?

He didn’t understand what was suddenly different. Why things had suddenly changed. It was only subtle, they were just two words. But at the same time, proven by the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about them, they carried colossal meaning.

“Thank you.”

It took him a second to process the words. He didn’t even really hear them at first. Didn’t let them land properly. Not initially.

He watched you walk into the kitchen and have a sip of water before you went to bed. Told him good night, which he returned, and then after you’d left him by himself, he suddenly frowned. Tucked in his chin in confusion.

Thank you?

Thank you for what?

You had never told him thank you before after an evening of a shared pizza and soft comfort on the sofa. Throughout the whole film, Joe’d rested his arm on the back of it, bent at the elbow, fingers slowly raking through your hair at your hairline. You’d curled into him like a cat, feet pressed into the cushions right next to his thighs, knees over his lap and your head on his shoulder.

Close and comfy, like it always was. Like you always were.

Joe had expected you to fall asleep, because you usually did, but you hadn’t this time. The film ended, and as the credits rolled, you sat up, stretched your arms up over your head and yawned.

“Thank you.” you’d casually said before getting up and leaving him there.

You made an offhand comment about needing to clean the kitchen. Said you’d get to it tomorrow and disappeared into the hallway before Joe could say anything about it.

Thank you.

Joe knew he was likely being silly. Saying thank you was a good thing. A polite thing to do, the opposite of rude, or careless. He should actually be glad for it.

Yet, he wasn’t.

It took him a whole day of thinking about it to figure out why it bothered him so much.

For one, he didn’t like that you’d introduced something new that felt less intimate, somehow. You’d never said it before, and he couldn’t think of anything else being different, so why suddenly this? Then, secondly, and Joe knew there was a fair chance he was wrong, but it somehow turned the quality time you spent together feel grossly transactional.

Like he’d done a stranger a favour.

He still didn’t fully get it, because essentially he was accusing you of doing something appreciative, but it just... it absolutely didn’t sit right with him.

Problem was, who was he going to talk to about this?

He couldn’t talk to anyone. Not even you. Because that’s not what you did. You never talked. Not about these things, at least.

And so, because there wasn’t really any other choice, Joe decided to push the whole thing to the back of his mind, where he’d forget about all of it eventually.

He was likely being stupid.

You had been nice.

He could just force himself to say you were welcome if you did it again.

Though he really hoped you wouldn’t do it again.

Didn’t want that to become a new flatmate thing, saying thank you and you’re welcome like you were vague acquaintances.

Things weren’t meant to move backwards like that. Not that Joe dared think of next steps. Forward ones. Of moving whatever was happening between the two of you along. But he didn’t want to go backwards.

He feared things were already slightly moving backwards though, because you’d not snuck into his bed in a while.

And you’d not gone out of your way to find him for a quick hug in a bit.

Joe thought it was likely that you were seeing someone. Or at least talking to someone. Not that this stopped you from draping yourself over Joe’s lap when you’d find him watching TV sat on the sofa, but it felt like you were pulling away just ever so slightly.

He only allowed himself to dwell on it for a second.

Was probably for the best, wasn’t it?

Joe understood that having you as a flatmate only worked out in the way that it did on his end because he wasn’t looking to enter a serious relationship with anyone.

If he was, he’d have to move out.

He’d have to.

There was no way he was going to be able to convince someone, anyone, that you and Joe were just normal flatmates. Especially if it was someone he’d have serious intentions about maybe marrying one day.

Or, if he could, there’d still be the issue that she would then likely not trust it. Not trust you. Not trust him.

So maybe this was smart.

Not as fun, though.

Good, for you. Obviously. You seemed happier. In better moods. This was a good thing, Joe reminded himself, and made a real point to think it every time he felt a little sad when he watched a film by himself in an empty flat. When he went to bed by himself in an empty flat.

A few weeks passed like that, until one afternoon, he’d walked in with bags full of shopping, and saw you’d crawled into bed for a midday nap. You’d left your bedroom door open and Joe took a moment to look at you as he leant against the doorframe.

Why did you look so much better to him when you were asleep?

So much softer. Almost fragile. Like you needed protecting.

He knew he took too long staring at you. Had to snap himself out of it and he squeezed his eyes shut as he closed the door. The self-restraint it took to not just walk right over and get into bed with you deserved a fucking medal, Joe thought.

When dinner time was nearing and he still hadn’t seen or heard you, he took it upon himself to go and wake you up.

Soft knocks on your bedroom door got no answer.

He went inside anyway, whispered your name and walked over to your bed.

You’d curled up into a little ball, face squished between your pillow and your pulled up shoulder and you looked achingly adorable, Joe could hardly stand it.

He used a finger to remove a strand of hair that had fallen over your face and softly said your name once more.

You woke up slow.

Joe got to witness it from up close.

After groaning, stretching and a deep inhale, you blinked your eyes into focus and found Joe sat on the edge of your bed.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he smiled. You frowned at his little joke, knowing full well it was nearing in on the evening. “We’re making pizza from scratch for dinner.”

You hummed and, in all honesty, wanted to roll over and get a few more minutes in. You’d not had a single good night’s sleep all week, so you’d reserved the weekend to catch up.

Just, sleep. No other plans.

“You want some home made pizza?” Joe cooed, eyes all rounded, all gentle.

You nodded, rubbing your face further into your pillow as you did.

“Yea? What toppings do you want?”

Joe forced you to wake up a little more. To think a little straighter.

It took you a second to get it together, and then you softly said, “I don’t know, what did you get?”

“Lots.”

“Hmm,” you tried your best suppressing a yawn. “I’ll have everything then.”

“All right, one everything-pizza, coming up.”

You huffed a laugh and rolled onto your back, managing to open your eyes fully now. You stared up at the ceiling a second, and then looked at Joe.

“I skipped lunch, so this is perfect, actually.”

And Joe just... smiled. Grinned widely as he looked at you. It took a few seconds before he seemed to realise that you could see him, because suddenly he looked down a little bashfully before clearing his throat and getting up.

“No need to rush, it’ll take a while. Dough’s still rising.” Joe talked as he walked out, slapping the doorframe as he passed it before disappearing from view.

And... shit.

You felt it then and you just... you knew you’d been right.

This just confirmed it, and you didn’t like how it all just settled into your bones more. Because, it meant trouble.

You’d first noticed it a few weeks ago.

How you’d somehow, over the span of some months, had fucking managed to fully pavlov yourself. Conditioned your mood into doing a complete one-eighty the moment your flat came into view.

You could’ve had the best day. Be in the best mood. Absolutely no reason to feel sad, to be tired, to be all down. Could be so happy, feel really upbeat, all chipper and energized. But you would quite literally turn the corner, would see your building, and you would feel your whole mood sink with every step you’d get closer.

And for what?

Just so you could be babied by your flatmate?

Because you knew he always would?

Sick. That wasn’t okay.

You had a stern check-in with yourself when, a few weeks ago, you came home after work and used the whole lift ride to think of reasons to be sad, quite literally depressing yourself.

And then, when you walked in on the verge of tears, Joe wasn’t there.

You fucking idiot.

Did all that for fucking nothing.

And now what?

Pick up the pieces yourself?

Where was the fun in that?

You thought about Joe’s bed, then. You knew he didn’t mind you sleeping in there. But, what were you doing, realistically? If you really gave it a good think?

Something needed changing.

Enough of this bullshit.

And when Joe had walked in around eight that evening, you sat down and watched a film together and you’d tried so very hard not to fall asleep. To not wobble in your mood. To not rely on Joe so much to fix what wasn’t even broken. God, you really had to stop convincing yourself that you were broken all of the time.

Once the film finished, you’d told Joe thanks and went to sleep and felt fucking awful for it, but it was probably for the best.

It would be good trying to be a bit more normal.

Use your words.

Be polite and say thanks when you should.

And maybe you should stop going for dates with guys, laugh at their jokes all night, but secretly be so excited to go home where you could sink into Joe’s side and hide yourself away underneath his arm for a good while.

Maybe you should stop having adult sleep-overs at random guys’ places, and constantly think of how your body fit together with theirs compared to Joe’s.

Wasn’t exactly healthy, what you’d been doing, was it?

Best to pull back. If only a little.

But then, waking up to Joe sat on the edge of your bed? Calling you sunshine as he smiled? Talking about making home made pizza together? Whispering all soft so you could wake up gently?

God.

There really was just something about it.

About him.

And even though you lived together, you realised you had missed him when you watched him walk out of your bedroom, talking about pizza dough rising and telling you not to rush getting out of bed.

Overcome by a weird surge of blind affection that would’ve been directionless had Joe not been there, you decided to just let it lead you where it wanted you to go. Let it pull you out of bed. Let it lumber you over to your kitchen.

You had itchy hands that needed to touch.

Arms that need to curl around and squeeze.

Feel him.

Feel him all up against you. Around you. Everywhere.

But, you were stopped in your tracks.

Thrown for a loop.

You hadn’t expected another person there.

Joe was stood by the counter, his back facing you, as he was cutting up some chicken to cook.

At the island stood his father.

“Hello,” Joe’s dad could smile just as warmly as Joe could. All kind and friendly. He said hello the way polite people always did, intonation going from up, then down, and then slightly up again at the end.

You knew Joe’s dad.

Had met him many times before.

You just hadn’t expected him.

He startled the tears right into your eyes.

Which sucked.

Because you were already on your way to attach yourself to Joe for a minute, and now you couldn’t because that’s not what you did in front of other people, and now you were crying, and guess how you always dealt with tears inside these four walls? Who always dealt with your tears inside these four walls?

Panic.

“Ooh, sorry! Did I frighten you?”

“N-no,” you tried smiling to disguise that actually, yes, he had done. But that wasn’t his fault. You had just wrongly assumed that when Joe said we’re making pizza from scratch, that he meant you and him would be making pizza from scratch.

Not his father and him.

Stupid.

Joe looked over his shoulder and saw you stood in the doorway still, body all rigid as your eyes darted from his dad to him and back again, and he saw.

Saw how your index fingers curled to scratch at your thumbs by your sides.

Saw how your held your breath, scared to release it, because what if it came out as a sob?

Saw how you bit your bottom lip into your mouth to make sure they wouldn’t see it tremble.

Saw the telltale crease of your forehead that always came before tears.

Shit.

Joe put his knife down and then, just... stood there. Didn’t know what to do. Because there was company, and Joe didn’t do what Joe usually did when there was company.

So now what?

You opened your mouth, and something stuttered out, but none of you could make sense of what words they were meant to be.

And then you just... stepped back.

Left.

Needed to go hide in your bathroom or something. Splash some cold water into your face and slap yourself across a wet cheek. It was so fucking silly, but it was wildly overwhelming to really want a hug from your comfort-person and then not be able to get one.

Just before you were about to dart into your room, you heard following footsteps.

No voice.

No words.

Just footsteps.

You were about three steps into your bedroom, bee-lining it to your ensuite, when a hand got you by the elbow and stopped you.

“Hey, come here.”

You easily let yourself be pulled back and crashed into Joe’s chest. It was confusing to try and wrap your head around why you suddenly were all up in your feelings, why the sudden dramatics, why your eyes were wet and your throat felt tight.

But then, there was Joe.

Ready to take care of it.

Joe used both arms to hold you against him firmly, one large palm around the back of your head to hold it in place. He let his head rest on top of yours, his cheek pressing into your hair, and you clung to him. Burrowed your face into him and tightly twisted handfuls of fabric of his shirt into your fists as your breathing grew more erratic.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Joe shushed and squeezed you and you mentally kicked yourself for even attempting to deprive yourself from this for weeks.

This was nice. This certainty of safety. Of zero judgement. Zero questions.

Why were you so upset?

It left you shaking.

Joe fucking loved it.

“It’s just my dad,” Joe said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that startled out of you. He said it like he was reassuring you that his dad didn’t bite, but you understood he meant his dad wasn’t going to be weird about what he’d just witnessed. Wasn’t going to mention how you’d just made a fool of yourself.

You turned your head to press your forehead into the hollow of Joe’s neck, rubbed your skin across his and took a second to just breathe. To stick your nose into the dip between his collarbones and to inhale him. To really feel Joe.

And Joe was never the first to pull away.

But his dad was making pizza in the kitchen still.

The longer you’d be gone, the higher the chance of an explanation needed.

“Tell you what,” Joe said after a bit. “You take a minute, clean this pigsty,–” Joe felt you were about to pull back, likely to argue him, so he didn’t leave any room as he quickly continued, “It’s so messy in here, I can’t even see the floor, and then, once you’re finished, in like, half an hour,–” you fully tried pulling out of Joe’s grasp now as you laughed, but he’d really locked his arm in, keeping you in place, still squished against his front. It turned into a playful wrestle to get free as you tried to pry your hands in between the two of you. “When you’ll have managed maybe tidy half of it, we’ll have dinner ready.”

Joe finally let go, and you pinched him in the side for his jokes.

Made him flinch and yelp, and it only made you smile wider.

Your room was hardly a mess.

“I’ll make an extra large pizza with the– with everything on that we can share.”

Fuck off, that made you pout.

“Stop, don’t cry. It’s just because my dad wants bean curd on his, so he has to do his own.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced, and Joe made big eyes in agreement as he nodded.

“Bean curd doesn’t count as everything,”

“Bean curd doesn’t even count as food.”

And just like that; you were normal flatmates again.

One just desperately needed a cuddle and the other desperately wanted to give one.

You didn’t need to talk about why.

Didn’t need to explain yourselves.

It just was what it was.

Joe gave your shoulders a last squeeze and left you alone in your bedroom. Pretended to trip on mess on his way out, and you checked, but there was nothing there.

Just before Joe found himself back in his kitchen where his dad was cutting up tofu, he silently celebrated how you hadn’t said thank you this time.

The universe felt restored.

Joe casually told his father that you were half asleep still when you’d walked in a minute ago. And his dad didn’t ask questions. Just asked if he could pass him the shredded cheese.

Having dinner together was fine. You mostly listened to the conversations between the two of them. Chimed in with an opinion when asked. Gave Joe a look when he silently ate all the smaller slices he’d cut, leaving you the larger ones, ensuring you got more than plenty seeing as you’d not eaten since breakfast. He even left you his bits of crust, because Joe knew how you always saved your own until the end so you could eat them with some sauce you dipped them into.

Joe fed you and cared for you and you tried you best ignoring how that made you feel inside of your chest, because you were just normal friendly flatmates and his father was literally right there.

About an hour later, when his dad was on his way out, you heard him ask Joe if he had any plans for the evening. It was Saturday night. You forgot people often had exciting plans on Saturday night.

For a single second, you prayed Joe didn’t have any plans as you selfishly felt you were due some falling asleep in his arms on the sofa.

Then you heard him say, “Horror film, I think,” before the two of them fell into too long a conversation about which films they’d seen over the past couple of weeks. And had Joe seen this film already? Because he’d heard good things. Um, no, he hadn’t. Not Yet. Ah, but he was going to a screening on Wednesday, Joe should join him. And, yea, he’d check his schedule, would let him know, because that sounded like fun.

You were cleaning the kitchen, wiping down the counters, when Joe finally said goodbye to his father and shut the door behind him. You heard how he locked it properly before he joined you again.

Joe didn’t ask if you wanted to watch a scary film with him. Just turned on the TV and found the one he wanted to watch.

Didn’t ask if you wanted a fat glass of red wine. Just poured two and placed them on the coffee table.

He didn’t have to call you over, didn’t have to motion at where to sit, and didn’t have to ask to share the blanket. You were already there, sat down right beside him and covered the two of you with the cosiest throw blanket you owned.

All unsaid.

All perfectly executed.

You weren’t the best at enjoying horror flicks. You were too easily scared, the suspense too difficult for you to handle, but it was fine. Joe was there. And you’d probably hardly get to see any of it, you knew.

Joe knew too.

If not the lack of sleep, the carbs of the pizza and the smooth glass of red would probably get you to drift off in no time.

With your glass in your hand, arm curled in to let it rest against your cheek, Joe invited you to let all your weight slump into his shoulder. He nursed his own glass in his lap as the film started, and you glued your gazes to the TV.

Your eyes were already kind of heavy, but you loved the shared warmth and gentle embrace too much to let yourself fall asleep so easily. You wanted to consciously exist in it for as long as you could, tonight. So you put some real effort into getting into the film, knowing that if it managed to get you hooked, staying awake wouldn’t become a huge chore. Especially with its genre.

But it kind of became a huge chore, anyway.

And you swore there were moments where you could feel Joe’s eyes on you, but when you chanced a quick peek, he was watching the TV, his head inclined to yours ever so slightly.

Maybe that was just the uneasy feeling that the scary film gave you then. Not Joe watching you.

You ignored how that disappointed you slightly.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to grow too heavy to keep open, and after really giving it your best try to fight it, you gave yourself over to what your body wanted. Closed your eyes and turned your nose into Joe’s arm.

Joe smelled like he always smelled.

You couldn’t really describe it, but it was distinctly him.

After a few minutes of teetering on the edge, you felt Joe take the glass of red from your grasp. You wanted to open your eyes, to apologise for nearly falling asleep whilst snuggled up under a cream-coloured throw blanket, but your eyes were heavier than anticipated.

You only managed a small murmur of sound. A little hum to let Joe know.

Your body moved as Joe leant forward to place both glasses onto the coffee table before he sat back, and in your hazy state, you let Joe help you get comfortable again. You felt how his hand slid under your elbow to curl around your arm, rubbing down the curve of it, until it reached your wrist. There, his fingers wrapped around and held on.

Not quite holding hands, but something close.

You dug your face further into his bicep, feeling the contour of it under your cheek and Joe slowly dropped his head on top of yours.

The last thing you remembered hearing were some gory slashing sounds accompanied with loud female screaming coming from the TV.

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s breath that tickled a strand of your hair against your temple.

Yea.

You could just stay there forever.

Fuck rational thought and sensible life choices. They were quickly abandoned and could stay abandoned for all you cared.

Especially when you, what felt like hours later, roused awake a little when two arms lifted you from the sofa. When a voice softly shushed you, even though you made no sound. When an elbow switched off the lights, and when carefully measure footsteps carried you over into bed.

Into Joe’s bed.

You weren’t alert enough to pay attention to Joe’s turns. Hadn’t sensed where Joe was taking you from just his movements.

But the overwhelming scent as you were placed down onto a mattress told you all you needed to know.

With your eyes still closed, your arms searched for Joe across the bed, and you let out a soft whine when you couldn’t find him.

Joe was as quick as he could be.

Rushed around the bed and slid under the covers right into your awaiting arms.

You shifted until you fit together just right.

Comfortably wrapped up, legs wedged in between other legs, arms nudged into crooks of necks and circled around waists. Nose to nose, this time. Close. Sharing breath.

When Joe accidentally bumped his nose against yours, it startled him slightly.

Maybe that was too close.

But then you did something you’d never done before and you nuzzled. Let your noses slide together until those too fit together just right.

Joe knew he shouldn’t think of next steps. Of forward ones. Steps that moved whatever was happening between the two of you along.

But, fuck it.

Tell him how he couldn’t.

Look at how fucking close you were.

And sure, you were just flatmates who did this sometimes. It didn’t have to mean anything, because it hadn’t really meant anything so far.

And yet...

Joe opened a careful eye to steal one last look before he’d let himself drift off, and even though he looked at you with eyes all out of focus, the sight of you made things grow behind his ribs.

He was going to stop pretending this was normal, he promised himself.

Because all of it did mean something.

This carried meaning.

Carried colossal meaning.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 4 months

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Taylor Swift: The Lyric Thief- Evermore Edition.

Do y'all know about this?

Swift's lyric "How's one to know/ I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bone" ("Ivy" 2020).

Great, interesting lyric from Swift's own mind, right? WRONG.

Originally, it came from a poem called "Compassion" written by Miller Williams in 1997.

Here is the poem:

Have compassion for everyone you meet, even if they don’t want it. What seems conceit, bad manners, or cynicism is always a sign of things no ears have heard, no eyes have seen. You do not know what wars are going on down there where the spirit meets the bone. (Williams, 1997)

It's later used as an album title "Down Where the Spirit Meets the Bone" that Miller William's daughter, Lucinda Williams, published in 2014.

She also used the line, that her father ORGINALLY wrote, in a song tribute to him called "Compassion" on that same 2014 album.

Can we please stop pretending Swift is a genius? When, in fact, all of her most "intelligent" and "powerful" lyrics are lines outright taken from other works in literary, and musical, canon.

She's just a derivative fraud who wants all of her fans to think she's the one coming up with all these ideas.

She stole the line from a woman who used it as a tribute to her dying Father- the original author- who is now passed.

Not only did Swift rip the line out of a tribute album written to the original writer- but she also put the line in a dumb song that romanticizes cheating. She writes, "dare to sit a watch what we'll become/ and drink my husband's wine" ("Ivy" 2020). Clearly, the whole song is about a woman who is cheating on her husband.

The original intention of the line itself is about having compassion for other people, while taking care to have humility and resist the allure of cynicism. It's a poem about caring for your fellow man- and resisting despair in life. Arguably, it is also a poem about mental health issues and respecting those who may struggle. Swift twists the line to describe meeting a clandestine hookup and cheating on her husband.

Not only did she yank the line right out of someone else’s work, with no credit given to the original intention of the line or the original author- but she also made it about such a selfish, sick, thing to do- cheating on a spouse.

The original intention of the line was so kind and empathetic. She ruined it with her endorsement of cavalier attitudes towards moral corruption :(

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sophswritingthings · 10 months

Note

I'm not the original anon for the 'x apothecary reader' but I've become absolutely invested.

But I was just thinking... About the whole situation with akemi in the brothel house and how that would go down with the reader?

pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader

warning(s): mentions of prostitution/sex work, swearing

a/n: the fact that ya'll are enjoying this series so much….. I’ve gotten three separate asks that are not from the full series. this is my dream as a fic writer, let me tell you!

summary: your wife leaving and going into the brothel without you made you nervous. and the clatter that followed worried you more; so much you spring to your feet to find out what’s happening.

word count: 530 words / 2,823 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

when madam kaji finally approached, your wife got to her feet quickly. you had waited hours on hours for the madam to appear, she was eager to finally get on with this.

you looked up at her with a concerned expression. she gave you a little nod; trying to assure you with her safety.

did you want to believe her? your mind certainly didn’t. but mizu was a skilled samurai who could take down a woman such as madam kaji in mere seconds, if she so needed.

you watched her walk off with the madam, off into the dark corridor of the brothel.

it had been about thirty minutes, and mizu had still not returned. she was just supposed to talk to the madam, right? mizu.. she would never—

—you couldn’t think like that.

a loud crash in the back of the brothel had alerted you, though. if anyone was causing trouble in the brothel; it was definitely your wife.

you were hesitant to get to your feet. you didn’t want to intrude, yet…

you got to your feet, and headed down the hallway. the room you had watched madam kaji lead mizu to had the door closed; worrying your further.

first, you opened the latch to the door. you saw your wife with a woman pinned to the floor, her hands tight around her wrists. you slammed the latch shut, pushing the door open with such force.

when you stepped inside, mizu looked up at you. as did the woman. mizu looked absolutely terrified.

mizu wasn’t scared of much.

but her wife angry? god that was her greatest fear.

you glanced down at the woman, you recognized her in an instant. princess akemi of kyoto. and there you wife was, sitting on top of her.

“first of all, back up,” you hiss, commanding mizu to move. mizu did so, releasing akemi's wrists. akemi sat up, rubbing her wrists in pain.

“don’t tell me your upset with me,” mizu whispers as you step closer to her.

you knew mizu would never cheat on you with how devoted the two of you were. but you had every right to be pissed off at finding your wife with another woman, pinned to the ground.

“I know you would never do that, you wouldn’t dare,” you grumble, sitting beside her. “though I do have to question what in the flames of hell you we’re doing.”

“she attempted to attack me, it was self defense,” mizu glared at akemi.

“a princess running away to a brothel, of all places. than attempting to kill my husband? I think not.” you narrow your eyes, “we'll sit here until the madam returns.”

“husband?” akemi scoffs, her voice posh as ever. “why you would want to marry a demon is beyond me. you are a fine woman.. you would have your pick.”

you roll your eyes, “because love does not rest on physical appearance. or blood, even. I love him, and that is the end of this discussion.”

you stand up, to loom over the princess.

“attempt to hurt my husband again and I will hurt you, understand?”

akemi timidly nodded, genuinely spooked by your demeanor.

“good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: I’m sorry it’s so short babe, it’s just a lil drabble <3

#mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #request #fic request #ask #asked and answered

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staytinyville · 1 year

Text

OUTLAW (12)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions about the last chapter

Thank you to @mariana-mmtz for becoming my Beta Reader! Mucho Amor!

Seonghwa was sitting in a chair next to where you slept, clinging to Mingi. The two were talking quietly about what had happened. Seonghwa had placed his head in his hands as he scolded himself for letting you take the trash out alone. He should have remembered there were people out there who were killing. It was not the right time for you to go out alone.

Mingi had assured his friend that it wasn’t his fault. There was only so much he could give, knowing the only way for him to get rid of the guilt was for you to wake up and tell him yourself. Mingi was only glad to have found you before things got worse. He was making his way to the hotel to speak to Jongho and Yunho.

He saw the girl run out of the alleyway, wondering what it was that had been happening to have her look so disheveled. When he heard shouts coming from the alley, he was quick to make his way over. When he saw your face from afar, he didn’t think twice before taking out his gun and making quick work of killing those men. He also didn’t want to hear any excuse the one on top of you had. Mingi knew he wasn’t about to let any man who dared to hurt women go. Especially not when it was you.

The two men suddenly became alert when rustling could be heard from the window. They glanced at each other before Seonghwa slowly crept closer. When Mingi noticed the man’s shoulders drop, he relaxed next to you, letting his fingers loosen their hold. The older man went to open the window, peaking out to speak to whoever was on the other side.

“Mingi never showed up at camp.” Hongjoong’s voice resounded in a loud whisper. “We got worried.”

“He's here.” Seonghwa told him, pulling his head back into the room.

“What is he doing here?” Wooyoung asked, looking around Hongjoong.

Seonghwa moved over, allowing the rest of his group into the room through the window. When Wooyoung stepped in after Hongjoong, he quietly gasped rushing to your side of the bed to kneel next to you.

“What happened to her?” Yeosang asked quietly as he walked over to Wooyoung. He took a seat at your feet, watching you cling onto Mingi.

“She was attacked.” Seonghwa sighed. “Mingi stepped in before it got worse.”

“Is that what the others are taking care of?” Hongjoong crossed his arms, jaw ticking.

Seonghwa gave him a nod. The group were skeptical about moving closer to the hotel but seeing a large group down the street they started to panic that one of their own had gotten caught. Seeing Mingi with you and Seonghwa, calmed the man’s nerves but now he was worried about what Yunho and Jongho would come back to say.

“Can you get up? You can't be here when her family shows up.” Hongjoong told Mingi.

“Every time I try she starts to shiver.” The man said, moving from your hold. You began to whimper, clenching onto Mingi tighter to keep him from moving. The pink haired man sighed deeply, looking over to Hongjoong.

“Seonghwa, lay down behind her.” The man told his friend.

Moving over towards the other side of you, he scooted over until he was able to wrap his arms around your waist. When he felt you relax, Mingi moved your hand off him and placed them near Seonghwa’s. They all held their breaths, waiting to see if you would start up again. But seeing how your breathing returned to normal, they realized their captain’s plan worked.

“We'll speak on this later.” The blue haired man looked at everyone. “The rest of us need to find another spot to hide just in case.” The four who had been living in the woods looked at each other skeptical but ultimately knew it was best.

“We'll come back to tell you once everything dies down.” Hongjoong explained. Before he turned to head out the window, he took one last glance at you and Seonghwa on the bed. “Take care of her.” He said, looking at Yeosang as well.

“We'll be back, Sweetheart.” Wooyoung whispered, running his fingers through your hair. He let his thumb rub against your cheek for a moment before following behind his friends.

Mingi had kneeled down next to you. “You did all you could. But please don’t do that again.” He whispered. His lips ghosted over your forehead, but he clenched his eyes closed and decided against pushing them onto your skin.

“Be careful out there.” Seonghwa called from behind you. Hongjoong was the last to climb out, giving Seonghwa an acknowledging nod.

“You as well.”

Jongho and Yunho did not return until the following morning. It was almost time for when your parents would turn up for work, so Seonghwa tried his best to wake you up. While things were stressful, he knew that the rest you had was good enough to wake you up and explain things.

“Pretty girl.” You opened your eyes as you began to stretch your limbs. Hearing the nickname made you look over to the man laying next to you.

“Seonghwa?” You spoke quietly. Looking around the room, you noticed Yunho and Jongho both patiently waiting for you to get up fully. When everything came rushing back to you, you quickly sat up, causing the boys to flinch and rush closer to you.

“Where’s Mingi?” You panicked, worried that someone had seen him. You vaguely remember having him sleep next to you, remembering the scent of leather on your nose.

“Hey,” Jongho tried to calm you down. “He’s fine. He’s with the others.”

As you took in the tired expressions they all had, you looked around each of them. “What’s going to happen now?” You whispered, your fingers beginning to tremble.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Yunho assured you. “You’re not involved as far as the police know.”

“The police?” His words didn’t keep you from panicking more.

“We had to call the murders in. People started to come out of their homes because they heard Mingi’s gun go off.” Yunho continued.

“They’re going to think it was them. They’re gonna start to go looking.” You prattled off.

“One thing at a time.” Jongho gripped onto your arms. “Captain has a plan.”

“What is it?” You asked.

“They’re going someplace else. They went into hiding until everything calmed down.” Seonghwa answered.

“Hiding?” You got up onto your knees, starting to build up anxiety that made you want to pace.

Your mind began to move a mile a minute, forming ideas of how exactly this hiding was going to go down. You didn’t know how long the town was going to go on searching for the outlaws but you knew it wasn’t going to be short. Who knew when the next time it would be until you saw them again. Thinking about it left a nauseous feeling in your stomach that made you frown.

You didn’t know them for long, but you knew that the emotions they manifested in you was something you wanted to see more of. You had never met a group like them in all your life and it brought a warm feeling to your chest. They respect who you were as a person and didn’t talk down because of how you acted. They made you feel like someone meant for the world. Like you weren’t the lone wolf just cruising the desert.

They made you feel like you matter. You didn’t want to lose friends like that.

“If they’re going into hiding, then that means that they left the old camp?” You spoke up, causing all the boy’s eyebrows to raise. You said it with an authoritative voice, like you knew what you were talking about.

“They should be.” Yunho answered.

“Lead them to the old camp. Make it seem like they skipped town so the search doesn’t go on forever.” You gave your input. “When things die down, they can come back.”

“Do you think it’ll be that easy?” Seonghwa asked Yunho, seeing the man as the second in command when their captain wasn’t in the vicinity.

“Could be.” The handle to the room began to move, causing everyone to hold their breath in worry that it was your parents. They were too busy thinking of other things to come up with ideas on why they were in your room.

“It’s me.” Yeosang called as he entered. You all let out a sigh in relief. When you remembered that Yeosang had returned to the camp, you quickly got up to speak to him.

“Are the others okay?” You asked.

“They're fine, Honey.” Yeosang assured you.

“I need to go see them.” You spoke, looking around him to find your shoes. “I have to check on Mingi.”

“It’s not that easy.” Yeosang pulled you to his chest, trying to hold you from looking around the room.

“I have to make sure they’re okay.” You tried to push back but he only held you tighter.

“I can guarantee they are.” Yeosang held your cheeks in his hands. “They had to leave for a bit but they are all still in good health.”

“But-”

“Just like you have to wait to see them, they have to wait for you.” Yeosang sighed. “They were all worried about you as well. I promise you’re not the only one worried.”

Your fingers gripped onto Yeosang’s shirt, tears falling from your eyes from all kinds of emotions. You were still scared about the whole ordeal, traumatized. You were beyond worried about the others getting caught. Not only that, but you were frustrated with the fact that you couldn’t go to see them. Upset that you had allowed Mingi to commit a crime on your behalf.

Your mental state had become fragile the moment you were caught by that man. Everything you neglected to think about as a child or teen seemed to come crashing full force into you. You would never think about the thing you have felt since you met the boys. Your life suddenly took a turn. And you didn’t know yet if it was good or bad.

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @smilingtokki , @fr34k4c1dr41n , @sousydive

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jinnikaz · 2 years

Note

“ you know how i feel about you… you’ve always known. “ // theo & mia

ainda estava um pouco extasiada pelas ações do outro. o coração havia explodido no peito de maneira frenética, ao theodore cruzar o salão em um rompante e vir em sua direção. havia o encarado durante todo o percurso, fitado cada passo que diminuía a distância entre os dois e parecia derrubar a barreira invisível que as famílias haviam criado entre os dois. desde toda a confusão entre amelia e michael, ela e seu irmão mais novo nunca mais haviam se atrevido a interagir em público, para evitar os boatos que já eram fortes e permeavam aquela amizade. haviam tratado um acordo silencioso de segredo, que fora desafiado quando o ruddick materializou-se à sua frente e tirou a mais nova para dançar. o pai de mia havia ficado tão chocado que não teve tempo de impedi-lo de levá-la, e no segundo seguinte, tinha a mão junto a dele para começarem a girar pelo salão.

ela, por sua vez, estava meio tonta. custava à acompanhar os passos da dança, que por tantas vezes havia ensaiado com aquele mesmo parceiro, mas seu caos interior tornava árdua a tarefa de lembrar até o mais básico dos movimentos. tentava não pensar nos olhares que estavam grudados na dupla, mas era uma tarefa árdua, porque sabia que boa parte do salão julgava o desafio silencioso que eles haviam interposto às suas famílias com aquela atitude. mergulhada em uma linha de pensamentos confusa e que minava aos poucos sua sanidade, fora um desafio para mia processar as palavras que foram lançadas em sua direção.

o cenho franziu-se levemente numa primeira resposta, perpetuando sua quietude por alguns minutos prolongados. piscou algumas vezes, encarando-o atônita, enquanto o corpo parecia entrar no automático para continuar acompanhando os passos da dança. “e o que fazemos com isso?” a voz pareceu lhe escapar antes mesmo de seu raciocínio voltar a ela. se tivesse pensado um pouco mais, talvez não fosse aquela resposta que ofereceria a ele, mas aproveitou que já havia o feito para continuar. “eu sei dos seus sentimentos, você sabe dos meus. e então…?! a reciprocidade é confortável, theo, mas não é o suficiente no mundo real.” o tom provavelmente soava mais cortante do que era sua intenção, mas tampouco tentou tosá-lo.

foi só ali que ela pareceu recuperar o controle sobre seu corpo. voltou a senti-lo aos poucos, tornar-se ciente dos membros, identificar os pontos em que sua figura estava junto da de theo, perceber o ambiente em volta e recuperar seus sentidos básicos aos poucos. encarou os olhos que lhe observavam de cima e respirou fundo, diminuindo o ritmo aos poucos até que cessasse sua movimentação por completo, abandonando a dança antes que esta estivesse oficialmente findada. por mais que sempre fosse convidativo escapar daquela realidade para adentrar aquela que havia construído com ele, aquela onde apenas os dois existiam, não era mais suficiente ficarem naquilo para sempre.

“preciso mais do que isso. mereço mais.” sua voz era baixa, soprada com intensidade apenas para ele. o olhar ainda estava fixo nos olhos dele, temendo o momento que precisasse encarar o ambiente questionador que esperava-os fora daquela pequena bolha na qual haviam entrado. “sinceramente, é exaustivo amar tanto em segredo.” fora sua última confissão, antes de escolher se afastar. estava irritada, frustrada. não com ele, mas com aquela situação, com a impossibilidade de amá-lo como gostaria, e gostaria que fosse de forma chamativa, barulhenta, estrondosa. caótica. exatamente como era o nível de seu sentimento por ele.

#⁽ ⠀ ♡ ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ 𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦⠀ ﹕⠀ ask memes / answered.#⁽ ⠀ ♡ ⠀ ⁾ ⠀ so tell me to run or dare to sit and watch what we'll become⠀ ﹕⠀𝑚𝑖𝑎 & 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜.

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violetasteracademic · 5 months

Text

Taylor Swift x Elriel

Just a (pared down, believe it or not) collection of my favorite Taylor Swift lyrics that remind me of Elriel. I have a whole collection and I'm not ashamed.

Timeless

That's when I came upon a book covered in cobwebs Story of a romance torn apart by fate Hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did And I'd die for you in the same way if I first saw your face

In the 1500s off in a foreign land And I was forced to marry another man You still would've been mine We would have been timeless I would've read your love letters every single night And run away and left it all behind You still would've been mine We would've been timeless 'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine We would've been timeless

Untouchable

Untouchable, burning brighter than the sun And when you're close, I feel like coming undone

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream It's like a million little stars spelling out your name You gotta come on, come on Say that we'll be together Come on, come on Little taste of heaven

Cruel Summer

And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Sweet Nothing

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Paper Rings

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh-huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this Uh-huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want

I Can See You

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I've been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

Ivy

How's one to know? I'd live and die for moments that we stole On begged and borrowed time So tell me to run Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become And drink my husband's wine

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

Let me know if you have any adds!

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel endgame #azriel x elain #elriel supremacy #taylor swift x elriel

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herarcadewasteland · 11 months

Text

Spin, Dare, Hide.

A/N: The full first chapter of SDH! I'm back to being motivated so you get the full chapter after so long lmao

-18+, slight violence, swearing, jisung is a little shit, ateez kinda yandere towards the end

-ateez x reader, mentions of skz because Han Jisung is your bff

1 of 2 (We'll see how much more I write from today onwards)

this is TWELVE of 14 pages i have written lol... not edited or re-read

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

Spin the bottle, hide and seek and truth or dare. Three separate games Jisung had decided to combine for a game he called SDH. Spin, dare, hide. The way it worked was a little too complicated for your liking, your head going blank as you listened to him explain it eight times over. You spin the bottle, the person it landed on is the seeker. You must do a dare they ask you and then you hide. You get a minute to hide. After that minute is done, your seeker has a time limit of 3 minutes to find you. If they find you, they do what they want with you. If you aren’t found, your past seeker spins the bottle and whoever it lands on swaps out and becomes the seeker. The game continues like this until either one person has not been found by anyone or the hider is found and “dealt with”, as Jisung phrased it. The only limit to the game was the extent of pain you could put a person through with your dare. You couldn’t ask your daree to hurt themselves or anyone else in an extreme fashion. The most you could ask would be a spank or a small slap on the face, even a slap on the wrist, forehead flicks included. That limit extended to the “do whatever you want to them” prize for finding the hider. The only pain you could inflict was determined before the actions were taken and done safely with consent.

It was something you had played with Jisung, Chan and Hyunjin before, but sitting on the floor, listening to Jisung explain it all to Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho, you wanted to be anywhere else but there. The confusion on their faces was visible, Jisung cackling as he explained the pain limits set in place. Feeling a gaze on you that you knew wasn’t Jisungs, as he was busy staring down Yeosang who had a small blush covering his face, you turned to look around. Looking past them all, you landed on Wooyoung. His gaze was… intense. He was always the flirty one but the look in his eyes was determined. Almost like he was taking the challenge of the game personally. When you met his eyes though, they cleared and he smiled at you brightly, a small one tugging at your lips in response until Jisung smacked you on the shoulder.

He was still rambling about the game and you vaguely heard a question directed at you, just nodding along as you got lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t until you heard someone choking on their drink and Jisung shouting at you in pride that you snapped back into reality and looked around the group in confusion. The reactions were different, but each man now had a darker look behind their kind eyes. Mingi had been the one to choke, his face beet red as he smacked his chest. Wooyoung sported a massive smirk, looking eerily close to the joker smile. Hongjoong was watching you look at them with curiosity and the others were all just slightly red in the face. San was the only one you could really tell what he was thinking. His lips parted as his breathing picked up, his legs crossed and he stared at you with darkened, hooded eyes. It was clear he was imagining what he could do to you if he found you but a sharp nudge from Seonghwa on his side made him sit up, his previous state gone entirely as you watched him with wide eyes.

Jisung caught your attention again, his eyes as wide as yours as you looked at him with so much visible confusion.

“What?”

“Did you even hear me?”

“Oh.. no… Was I supposed to? You were explaining the game. I know how it works.”, you raised an eyebrow at Jisung.

He only answered with a laugh, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he continued to explain the little details of the game he created. He gave you no indication of just what you had agreed to when you were zoned out, his attitude more cocky than usual as he held you to him tightly. You huffed in annoyance and confusion as you sat, waiting for the explanation to be over. It took Jisung about three more minutes to finish explaining everything, questions answered and players ready.

“Okay, someone grab a bottle! It’s time to play~”, Jisung cackled and rocked with you in his hold, your eyes rolling at his maniac-esk tendencies.

“What did I agree to? I think it’s against the rules for me not to know.”

“Wrong! I made the rules, so for you, sweetpea, it’s not gonna harm you.”, Jisung planted a loud kiss on your cheek and you grunted, shoving him away to sit on the floor in front of him.

Yunho came back into the room with a bright smile and a half empty bottle of vodka in hand, followed by Yeosang who carried a bowl of snacks to the couch to share around. You accepted gratefully, munching on a small handful as everyone got settled in a circle, Jisung excluded. You called him a traitor as the last two settled down fully, the back of your head being smacked.

“Okay, now. Let’s start with a simple round of Truth or Drink. Don’t answer the truth and someone knows you’re lying, you drink. You get away with a lie and that’s that. Got it? Good. Jongho!”, Jisung pointed at Jongho as he shouted his name, the change in volume making you jump slightly against his legs, to which he laughed.

A simple hum answered him, Jongho leaning forward in his seat as Jisung copied him. His eyes darted down to you briefly before Jisung hummed obnoxiously loud, his eyes trailing back up to meet Jisung’s.

“Do you know who has the biggest dick?”

“Yeah.”, Jongho scoffed and turned his gaze to Seonghwa, “Hyung, did you eat my lunch yesterday?”

Seonghwa had the decency to look ashamed, his ears flushing red as he covered his mouth with his hand. He simply nodded and sat up straighter, staring daggers at Wooyoung who cowered away slightly.

“Did you take my Star Wars Lego and re-gift it to me during the holidays?”

Wooyoung choked on air, his eyes widening in fear as Seonghwa stood from his spot, rage seeping from him as he made his way to the frantically mumbling Wooyoung. Hongjoong stopped them quickly but when Wooyoung muttered a small ‘yes’ before he booked it outside, Hongjoong had no hope against the force of angry Seonghwa as he barrelled after the culprit.

You sat in your spot, lips pressed together to stop the laughter from spilling through as Jisung cackled at your back, San looked unbothered, almost like he knew about the occurrences. The others looked slightly concerned for Wooyoung as scared screams from Wooyoung echoed as Seonghwa shouted profanities at him. Snacks were passed around as the chase continued outside and was soon forgotten as you ate, conversation flowing naturally until Seonghwa burst through the door with Wooyoung, a harsh grip on his ear as he dropped him where he was sitting previously. He retook his own seat, San patting his thigh comfortingly as Seonghwa huffed in anger. You let out a small giggle, the despair in his actions pulling it from you before you could stop it. The glare was turned to you quickly and you muttered apologies and bowed your head to him repeatedly, his glare leaving his eyes soon after as he calmed down fully.

“Oh Jisung~”, Wooyoung called out to your friend, “Have you kissed Y/n?”

Gasps filled the room and your jaw dropped, staring at the cocky look on Wooyoung’s face as he sipped his drink. Jisung hummed and ran his hand over your hair, your head shaking in response to the question before he grabbed the sides of it to stop you.

“No, but I can.”, he emphasized his point by planting a kiss on the top of your head, your jaw snapping shut as you punched Jisungs legs where you could reach.

“OK, since I asked someone already, San. Would you kiss one of the people beside you?”

You watched as his head turned to either side, glancing over his friends before he nodded, “Yeah. Probably would.”

A few cries of shock followed his answer, the two to his sides blushing red as they stared at the carpet below them. You smacked Jisung’s leg again, hand reaching for the snacks as the questions were passed between the rest of the boys. Soon enough, after a few angry chases through the backyard and a few insults here and there, your name was being called by Yeosang. You met his eyes easily, head tilted in question as you swallowed the mouthful of Doritos you had been crunching.

“Would you make out with anyone in the room…minus Jisung?”, his eyes were curious as he held your gaze but you could feel the weight of the others’ darkened eyes on your frame as you thought for a moment.

With your eyes steadily on Yeosang, you licked your lips slowly, still thinking before you no longer had to, Yeosangs answering lip lick solidifying what you were, in all honesty, pretending to think about.

“Yes. In a heartbeat.”, your face lit up with a blush as they groaned, some shifting in their spots as others hid behind their hands to save face in front of you.

“So why don’t you?”

“What?”, your head snapped to Jisung, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched the panic course through you.

“Make out with one of them. I dare you.”

“This isn’t the game, Jisung.”

“Good thing a preliminary game of spin the bottle is next then huh?”

You groaned and smacked him, running your clammy hands over your face as you huffed out a breath of pure tension, “I think we get that you smashed together some games and forced us to play it for your pleasure.”

A few laughs greeted your ears, Jisung’s angry huff reaching you between the laughs before you had a smack landed on the top of your head. You groaned a little and rubbed your head, glaring up at Jisung from your spot.

“Unnecessary!”

“Shut up. Fine, we’ll just start the game. Since our dear Y/n decided to ruin our pre-game, she’ll spin first!~”, Jisung pushed you forwards slightly, your hands catching you as you fell forward.

You sat upright with a huff and shook your head, reaching for the bottle that Yunho still held. The level of vodka in it had dropped and you raised an eyebrow, his sheepish smile answering all your questions. You let it go and set the bottle in the middle of your circle, sitting on your knees at arm’s length away from it, you grasped the body and spun it. Watching it spin, your heart rate picked up, the bottle slowly coming to a stop as you stared at it. You didn’t want to look away from it, if it had landed on him, you knew you would be found and there was no telling just what would happen.

You felt all their gazes on you as you stared holes into the bottle, the neck pointing somewhere to your front right. A throat clearing made your shoulders jump, your eyes flicking away from the bottle in the general direction of Jisung behind you with a glare. You took a deep breath, staring at the bottle still. Exhaling sharply as you glanced up to meet your seeker’s eyes, you froze. You were fearing being seeked out by Wooyoung but seeing Hongjoong staring you down, head tilted down slightly and to the side as he smirked, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he watched you, you knew you had been afraid of the wrong person.

Red rushed over your face, a sympathizing chuckle coming from someone to your left and as you glanced over quickly, you were surprised to see Yeosang smirking at you in a similar way. The blush heated your face quicker, your cheeks burning as you glanced back at Hongjoong, who had shifted to kneel in his spot between Mingi and Jongho. You met his dark eyes, his head tilting further in silence as he picked up on your spike of fear.

“The captain first. How fitting! Now, you have to give her a dare! She can’t say no.”, Jisung interrupted your staring contest, your fear dying in your chest slowly as the look faded from Hongjoong’s face.

A bright smile pulled at the captain's lips as he watched you closely, his hands clasping together on his thighs as everyone sat in nervous silence.

“I dare you…”, Hongjoong met your apprehensive gaze as his darkened once more, Jisung at your back oblivious to the look as he flirted with San, “I dare you to go the rest of the night without your shirt on.”

Cat calls echoed around your head, your eyes widening as you held his gaze once more, his smile dropping into a smirk in a split second as you shook your head.

“That’s unreasonable. I’m not-”, your denial was cut off by the sound of fabric ripping, your eyes darting down at the sudden chill on your torso only to see your shirt in two halves hanging around your hips.

You gasped in shock, one of your favourite shirts ripped so easily but as you looked to the side to see Jongho and Yeosang with similarly hovering hands, you saw red.

“What the fuck?! I get this is a game to you all but I take destroying my possessions very seriously! So if one of you wants to stop and fucking think about how much I enjoy my possessions, that would be great!”

You were fuming. Your fists clenching as your chest heaved, eyes squeezed shut in anger while you tried to keep the tears away. Silence followed your outburst, gazes set on your form as Jisung rubbed your bare shoulders.

“Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Anything to let me know that you aren’t complete assholes?!”

The continued silence made you huff, your eyes snapping open only to make eye contact with Seonghwa who was now kneeling in front of you, eyes darker than the night sky and swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place as his hand shot out to grip your chin between two long fingers.

“I’d watch how you talk to us if you want to make it out later.”, his voice was deeper than you had ever heard it, rivaling Mingi’s as he leaned forward to whisper darkly in your ear, “You won’t be walking out of this house normally anyways, don’t make it worse for yourself, pet.”

He pulled away abruptly, his harsh grip leaving your face as it heated rapidly, his eyes brightening as he took his previous spot. All eyes were on you as you inhaled shakily, your eyes clearing of the anger that was previously swirling in them and instead fogging over in a headspace you never thought Park Seonghwa would be able to induce, even if just slightly as he promised you your demise.

Jisung cleared his throat sharply, smacking his hands down on your shoulders. You jumped in your spot at the touch, your mind miles away from the current situation until that moment as Jisung began rambling off the rules again.

“One minute to hide, as soon as you leave the room, Y/N, it’ll start. Hongjoong you have three to find her. You fail, you spin and swap out. Then it starts over until we either run out of men or our dear hider is found.”, Jisung made eye contact with everyone in the room, making sure they nodded before he slapped you over the head, “Get a move on! We only have so much time.”

You nodded slowly, avoiding the eyes of everyone as you stepped to the edge of the living room, your legs hesitating mid-step as you glanced back at Jisung for reassurance. Seeing his answering nod at your gaze, you sighed lowly and booked it from the room, your steps echoing as you clambered away from the heavy energy. Jisung’s shout for the timer starting had your heart quickening as you looked into every room you could, eyes searching for that perfect spot you knew no one would look in.

You even considered the trash can in the kitchen before you heard low laughs coming from the room across from it, looking up to see San watching you. The darkness in his eyes had you sprinting from any room even remotely close to the living room, your hands shaking as you considered just jumping in the shower or the linen closet and praying that whatever Hongjoong had planned for you was innocent and painless.

You figured that closets, under beds, in the shower or behind curtains would be searched first, followed by behind chairs in corners or large piles of blankets or clothes, your mind racing with thoughts on how you could possibly hide in a way that would ensure you would be free to win the game and have the boys fight it out as they hid amongst themselves. Jisung shouted ‘20 seconds’ into the house, the slight murmur from the group dying down slightly as you froze, head turning around the room frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hide goddamnit!”, you scolded yourself, scanning every last corner of the room before you came up with a plan.

Grabbing pants from the closet, you stuffed them haphazardly with pillows, standing them on shoes behind the curtains before closing them to create a space of darkness, Jisung starting a countdown from 15 seconds as you frantically stuffed another pair of pants to hold with you for your plan.

“3!”

Your hands shook as you closed the door to the room, body pressed against the wall as tightly as possible to minimize the obvious gap when it opened.

“2!”

You held the pants and shoes in one arm, tucked against your chest as you covered your mouth with the waistband.

“1!”

You heard shuffling from downstairs, your eyes closing as you tried to control your breathing.

“Ready or not, here I come~”, Hongjoong’s voice carried up the stairs as he climbed them steadily, “I’ll find you sooner or later, bunny. You can hide, but you can’t run.”

The sharp edge to his words made you clam up, your hands slipping slightly and causing your elbow to knock against the door lightly. You gasped as quietly as you could, free hand clamping down harshly on your mouth as a shadow filled the doorway, the hallway light only silhouetting his figure as he opened the door. He swung it open slowly, his hand splayed on the wood as you waited for it to collide with your body. The hit was far from obvious as he left it to rest just centimeters from your body, his eyes narrowed and predatory as you shook slightly.

The curtain rings did you a favor, sliding slightly to adjust to the positioning and drawing his attention from the other side of the room. His smirk grew noticeably in the darkness of the room, the hallway lights seeming to glint off his canine as he stalked towards the curtains, his eyes trained down on the set of shoes just barely peeking from behind them.

“Oh little bunny. You could’ve at least tried to get away~”, his smug look was wiped from his face as he violently pulled open the curtains, the noise allowing you to slip out of the room as Jisung shouted ‘2 minutes left’.

The door creaked slightly as you snuck out of your spot, Hongjoong freezing as you booked it. A cruel laugh filled the air moments later as the sound of a door slamming shut took over the house. Shivers went down everyone's spines at the following laughter, his words making you stumble as you ran into the library room that was really just a desk and a few bookshelves.

“If I find you, little bunny, you’ll wish you never ran. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll make such a pretty bunny for us, covered in our marks and drenched in our cum.”

He made no indication that he heard the door to the room squeaking but as you slid between the shelves on the wall of the door, your stuffed pants casting a shadow under the desk for him to see as he swung the door open fully, a mocking click of his tongue following, you knew he had heard it.

“Oh bunny. You should’ve been quieter. Maybe then you would have had it easier.”, he stood still in front of the desk, his shoulders lifting with his heavy breaths as he stared down the top of it, “But poor bunny thinks we’re dumb-”

“Hey Captain! 10 seconds!”, Jisung shouted up the stairs.

“Your tricks may have worked, but whoever is next will not be as accepting of your tricks.”

“Game!”, Jisungs shout startled you slightly, Hongjoong leaving the room before he paused.

“Your little games will get you hurt, bunny. I’d be careful.”, he growled his words at you, fingers tapping against the bookshelf you were squished between as he left the room.

You sighed in relief, slipping from your spot to breathe properly for a minute as you gathered your decoy, going back to gather your other one as Jisung shouted up to you that you have some extra time as the bottle spun. Your hands steadied quite quickly with the news, your hands working double time to stuff some more pillows into pants, placing one behind the curtains again, another in the shower, replacing the one under the desk and shoving one under a bed. All that was left was you, Jisung’s call of your official time starting putting the shake back in your hands.

You had one minute to hide again, your decoys calming your mind slightly until you ended up in front of the locked door at the very end of the hall. The red light that was usually on in the room was absent for now as you stared at it, a call of 30 seconds shaking your mind as you turned away from it, stumbling into the closest room you could reach.

You looked around frantically, eyes finding the doors that led to a small balcony quickly. You huffed but gave in, opening the doors with a huff. You could hide behind chairs, the giant potted plant or you could stand on the edge and pray no one walked out. SIghing heavily, you pressed yourself against the wall beside a large plant right by the doors. A faint shout of Jisung’s voice told you that the new seeker was out and searching for you. Opening doors slowly sounded less muffled as he approached the room you were in, his voice muffled while he searched for you. The door to the room opened slower than the rest of the doors, the slow squeak of the hinges making you cringe as you pressed yourself against the cold wall.

“I see you know what you’re doing. I don’t appreciate these little games you think you can get away with, doll. When we find you, you will regret it. Mark my words. If I don’t ensure it, then I know for a fact that the others will when they find out your little mind games. Jisung forbade us from telling the others what happens on our hunts…”, a door slammed open, “So you’re safe with your little decoys until someone doesn’t fall for them.”

The growl his voice took on was bone-chilling, the anger and anticipation behind it making you shiver more violently than the cold breeze had been, your entire body tensing as the patio doors opened one by one.

“You’re lucky my time just ended, doll. A shame we don’t get to play just yet… I’ll have my chance with you and by god will you regret everything.”, his head poked through the doors, making eye contact with you immediately and you whimpered.

The smirk on his face was nothing less than cruel as he watched you shiver, your eyes wide as he watched you until you gasped, fully registering your situation. You shook your head, hands waving in front you as you stepped back slightly.

“J-Jongho no, t-the time ended!”, your voice trembled as he watched you panic, an easy smile replacing his smirk.

“I’m aware, doll. It’s best you come inside for now if you keep planning to hide out here. You’ll get sick.”, he tugged you inside, his large hand warm against your smaller one as the warm air of the house washed over you.

“Thank you…”, you murmured as Jisung shouted for Jongho again, his heat disappearing back downstairs to spin the bottle as you warmed up slowly.

The minute it took for the bottle to land and Jisung to shout up to you felt like ages, your last decoy being replaced under blankets on a bed. Your brain was short-circuiting. You had no idea who was next, it could be Wooyoung, it could be Seonghwa or it could be Yeosang. Either way, you were terrified of those three for the moment as you slotted yourself under the bed the decoy was on. It was a dumb spot and you would be lying your ass off if you said you couldn’t hear past your own heartbeat for a few seconds as footsteps trailed up the stairs, oddly heavy for any of the boys.

The sound of two doors swinging open at once sent alarm bells off in your head again as you picked up on two separate footstep patterns entering rooms opposite your hiding place. You had closed the door to be extra safe, leaving the door to the room of your last hiding place open just to throw them off. Regret filled your panicked being as you watched four shadows extend from under the door to the room you were in.

Of course they sent up two and of course Jisung allowed it. Why wouldn’t he? He was always rooting for your failure in a best friend way, just as he was always trying to get you laid. Maybe that was his plan with this godforsaken game, you thought. The door opened slowly with an extended creek sending shivers down your spine as you indirectly met Wooyoung's dark gaze from under the bed, San’s sharp eyes scanning the room slowly, gaze just as filled with a promise of danger.

Watching San’s arm lift to point subtly at the decoy on the bed, you let out the smallest whimper you could, hands clasped over your mouth and nose to hide your heavy breathing as they approached opposite sides of the beds.

“Oh princess. You could have hid so much better!”, San’s voice was overly cheerful as you watched his foot tap in eight counts.

“Unless our little baby just couldn’t wait to be found~”, Wooyoung's voice matched San’s cheerful tone as he added to the teasing.

The swoosh of blankets covered the noises of shock they no doubt made, the muted thump made your heart race, knowing they wouldn’t leave the blankets on the floor to sweep up the dust of the day. The veined hands gripping the pile confirmed your thoughts, a slight peek of hair nearly exposing your spot as they bent to pull the covers over the decoy. They whispered to each other, the annoyance hidden in their tones now present as they scanned the room once more before they left with heavy steps.

Their posture screamed disappointment but being under the bed stopped you from seeing the small smirk shared between them as Jisung called time moments after your door closed. The silence and heat building in the room suffocated you slowly, your hands fumbling with the door until you were able to breathe in different air, your mind racing at the possibilities of them sending up another group of two, maybe even a group of three if Jisung was feeling like causing more chaos.

The troublemakers next call of your time had you rushing into the bathroom, hands fumbling with the decoy to chuck it outside, no longer caring if it led whoever was next straight to you. You were flustered, scared and becoming increasingly panicked at what the others were planning as they sent away each seeker. A heavy set of footsteps trailed slowly up the stairs, your mind jumping Yunho as the stairs creaked under the weight of whoever was ascending. They had to be larger than Hongjoong or Yeosang, their stature a little too small for you to believe it was one of them making their way up

. Your thoughts came to a sudden stop as you heard a mumble, his deep voice chilling you to the bone as you realized it was probably Mingi who was now searching for you. You weren’t afraid of Mingi for the game, but he was observant when he needed to be and he needed to be, so you were concerned. Your hands trembled as you flattened yourself against the bottom of the tub, the showerhead staring you down threateningly as the sound of his footsteps got closer.

The panic clouding your brain hid the change in heaviness of the steps, the lighter tone of the voice responding to someone you could only pray was downstairs, but hearing no shout from Jisung at that moment, you just knew they had sent up an overly coordinated pair. That, or they walked so slowly up the stairs trying to match their steps that they lost all of their time, Jisung’s voice shouting ‘5 seconds’ confirming your running thoughts as 3 separate voices began complaining. You could recognize the tones of Mingi, Yunho and Yeosang. A shiver traversed your spine as you realized that Yeosang could have found you in that moment, their overly careful planning to walk up the stairs saving you for one last round. Saving you for Seonghwa.

Sitting up in the tub, you couldn’t help but think that maybe leaving you to Seonghwa last was on purpose. The feeling he gave you before, surrounded by the other boys in the circle only spelled danger and dominance. You were terrified of it. The sharp change in the way he acted towards you to how he acted on the regular like a Care Bear murdering a child. Unexpected and completely out of the usual character you were used to. Your mind raced at the hiding spots you could get away with, mentally checking off places you hid decoys or hid for the others until you reached the small office room in your pacing, Jisung’s delayed call of your start time only fueling your fear knowing that Seonghwa had probably asked for his call for your time to start later. Letting you sit in your panic, letting it build slowly for him to make it burst when he began his hunt.

HIs confidence was overwhelming from that one non-verbal cue to you and you knew he would find you, probably paid off Jisung to let the guys tell him where you were so he could narrow down your location. He was already in your head and Jisung had just called your start time, your hands shaking as you closed the office door slowly so the hinges wouldn’t creek as they did when Hongjoong had followed you into the room previously.

Your decoy sat under the desk still and you sighed, deciding to hide between the shelves on the far right side of the room, the desk nearly perfectly parallel to your small hiding spot. Hongjoong’s mocking call of ‘ready or not, here he comes’ did nothing to help your nerves, your hands sweating against the dark wood of the bookshelf in front of you, your ears straining for any sound of Seonghwa that you couldn’t find.

He was deadly silent climbing the stairs, no doors squeaked as they opened (if he opened them) and you were trembling as the door to the office slowly swung open. The large, veined hand on the wood was the only thing giving away his presence until he stepped into the room, eyes fixed on the desk with an intensity you never saw in his eyes. His lips curled at the shadow under the desk, his head tilting as his tongue poked out to run over his plush bottom lip.

“I appreciate your commitment to the decoy under the desk, pet. It’s clever. For dumb little girls who don’t know when to give themselves up.”

His voice was deep again, eyes never leaving the desk as he approached it, hands slamming down the surface. He hung his head slightly, his fluffy hair dropping to hide his eyes from your fearful gaze.

“I’ll give you a choice, pet. You come out of your own free will, walk downstairs with me in that pretty little bra and we go easy on you.”, he scoffed out a small laugh, his hands drawing your attention as he reached into his pocket, a small pocket knife glinting in his pretty hands, “Or~ You don’t. I pull you from that pathetic little hiding spot and drag you down those stairs where you get used by us until you can’t even lift a finger. Jisung was a good little boy…”

The silence made him hum, his hand flipping the knife open and closed over and over with a steady click. He laughed mockingly as the silence carried, your stubbornness amusing him as he tilted his head.

“He was too easy for San to seduce. All it took was a few touches on his thigh, some compliments and he was caving, telling us all your dirty little kinks. Yeah he gave us everything we needed to know. And then he left!”

His cruel laugh made you tear up. Of course Jisung caved to San’s false advances. The fucker probably took the car too, not even leaving you a text to explain how he fed you to the wolves. You were drawn from your angry thoughts towards Jisung by the rough scrape of the blade on the wooden surface of the desk.

“I’ll give you… one minute. You had a minute to hide for us. You get a minute to decide how good you want to be for us.”, He was standing up straight again, his fingers drumming the desk as he put the knife away.

The silence was only broken by his drumming and a slow, mocking countdown to your inevitable demise, his voice deep but airy as he counted to your end. Your heartbeat was rapid in your chest and you could swear if Seonghwa was silent for even a second, he’d hear it pounding against the wood of the bookshelf. Your thoughts overwhelmed your awareness of your actions, your breathing getting a little out of hand with your increasing heart rate as the countdown dropped to ‘5~’ and suddenly stopped.

By the time your mind caught up with the lack of counting and the heat of the darkened eyes suddenly on you, a harsh grip was on your hair, pulling you from your spot roughly. You hadn’t even seen him move, your legs buckling at the sudden motion, causing you to stumble into Seonghwa’s chest, his eyes beating down on the top of your head as you pushed away from him slightly to get some space for your racing thoughts to calm. You had no time to begin to calm yourself as his soft lips brushed your ear teasingly, his voice nothing but a growl as he whispered to you.

“Run for me now, pet. Let’s have some fun~”

Your mind ran blank as he nudged you towards the door, your feet carrying you faster out of the room, your panic leading you to the bathroom once more, closing the door with much more force than necessary. The coldness of the tub stole your breath as you laid down again, the reflection of the showerhead letting you see the door open slowly just as every other door had. The image was too distorted for closer objects, a slight blur showing you Seonghwa’s figure walking further into the room but not allowing you further sight on him. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing and your heart to listen to his movements.

Hearing none, just a slight shuffle you were sure you made, you opened your eyes just in time to see his large hand twisting the cold water tap for the shower. You gasped at his hand, his dark eyes peeking around the curtain just as ice cold water poured down onto you from above, your eyes closing as you shrieked at the cold, hands raising to try and block some of the stream. They were soon tugged down though, a new face hovering above yours as you thrashed about in the tub, heart racing as you glanced up.

———

part 2

there’s just something about cruel seonghwa that gets me going istg

#herarcadewasteland #fem!reader #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #reader insert #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #mentions of skz #han jisung x reader #yandere ateez

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walkergirlsposts · 7 days

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HAHAHAHA The funniest post I've seen in days. "We have no rights to claim to be a fan." Says a heller, someone who only watched for a non existent ship, also someone who hates the lead.

This is another one of those, "how dare we disrespect the loser extras" while they actively hate on the lead. Sit the fuck down and shut up. You have zero rights here, Dottie. It was always about the brothers, the only one who's erasing the actual themes are you. By the way, we're allowed to dislike any character we want. It's like this with every show. There are characters people love, characters people hate. And what we dislike about them, is the actors have become ungrateful brats for the amount of episodes they were in.

So stay mad, we'll continue to dislike them. Someone who hates the show has no business calling us "not a fan." This is rich. 😂😂😂

#anti hellers #sit down and shutup #you're a heller you're not even a fan #you don't get to tell the real fans they're not fans #just because we don't kiss the loser extras asses

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roseghoul26 · 2 months

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Chapter 16: ...Or Dare To Sit And Watch What We'll Become

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Arthur Morgan Has Tuberculosis, Angst With A Happy Ending, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: thank you for your patience! this chapter kicked my ass Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraphph @crypticlxrsh @lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo @tinaaaa5747 Chapter List

The sun beat down on your body as you sat hunched over, hands digging into the dirt. Your knees ached, having spent at least the last hour in the same position, and you could feel the back of your neck begin to burn, the only part of your body not protected from the sun.

A triumphant huff of air left you when the carrot you had been pulling at finally came free, specks of dirt hitting you in the face. You didn’t pay them any mind, shaking the vegetable before adding it to the nearly full basket beside you. You weren’t sure what was with the crops this early summer, as you seemed to be harvesting more than you thought you would. Not that you were complaining; you’d make a decent amount of money from all the extras.

Sitting back on your heels, you gave your knees and back a moment of respite, wiping away the sweat on your forehead. You let your eyes wander over what had become your pride and joy over the last year: your garden. It sprawled across four large plots, all housing a variety of fruits, vegetables, and herbs, changing with the seasons. You always felt proud when you looked over all your hard work, and even now was no exception, a smile landing on your face.

The garden provided for you, and what you didn’t need you sold, earning a pretty decent amount of money from it. It wasn’t like you struggled for money, still having ties to your family’s massive amount of wealth, but you had a mere fraction, just enough to be comfortable, and you were happy like that.

Glancing at the basket beside you, you realized that it wouldn’t be able to hold any more produce. With an audible groan, you stood, your back and knees cracking loudly. It took a bit of effort, but you managed to hoist the basket into your arms, heading into the small abode.

Your new home was small, significantly smaller than the estate you grew up in, and Hans’s house. But you wouldn’t have anything else; you found that the large houses felt more like a prison. And besides, you had a bit of a connection to the small wood cabin; you did help build it, after all.

The door creaked open, heading straight to the dining room and kitchen, where you unceremoniously dumped your contents onto the counter. You needed to clean the produce, but you were going to get washed up first.

Wiping your hands on your pants, you entered the bedroom, which only stood a few feet away from the kitchen. You quickly discarded your soiled clothes, adding them to the large pile on the floor, mentally reminding yourself to do the laundry. Using the washbin, you cleaned your body, the water in the basin turning muddy and gross. Another task for you to do later.

Redressing, you were about to head back to the kitchen when something caught your eye. Sitting on the bed was a familiar leather-bound book, something that you hadn’t seen in quite some time. It was usually kept tucked away with Arthur’s stuff, and you were quite confused as to what it was doing sitting out.

Nostalgia hit you like a train, a fond yet somber look on your face as you made your way to it. The leather was soft when you picked it up, worn after spending so much time in the outlaw’s hands.

You hadn’t opened it yet, too caught in the memories that the journal resurfaced. So caught up that you didn’t hear the front door open, or someone call out your name. You didn’t hear as someone approached the bedroom, making you drop the book when they called out your name again, this time significantly closer.

Spinning around, you were met with the beautiful sight of Arthur Morgan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. An amused smile graced his lips as he walked in, meeting you halfway in an embrace. He’d been gone less than a day, yet you still missed him dearly, as you always did when he was away from you.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, darlin’,” you heard him chuckle, chin resting on top of your head after kissing it. “Thought ya heard me the first time.”

You shook your head, at least as best you could. “You’re still too sneaky for your own good, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur scoffed in mock offense, pulling back so that he could look at you. “And I apologize, Mrs. Morgan.” As he spoke, his fingers moved to the chain around your neck, where a band of gold adorned with a diamond sat on your neck. It was where it sat when you gardened, not wanting to risk it getting dirty or worse. Every other time, though, it sat on your finger, the weight comforting, something you never thought you’d say.

There was a mini-ritual you and Arthur would do when you’d have the ring around your neck. He’d take it off, before sliding the ring back onto the proper finger, just like he’d done for the first time over a year ago.

And that’s what he did, kissing the back of your hand when he was done. You laughed lightly at his antics, adoring every second of it. Every day, you fell deeper in love with him, if such a thing was even possible.

“Bounty go alright?” You asked, your eyes roaming his body for any visible wounds. You wouldn’t lie and say that you liked that Arthur continued to do bounty hunting, but you knew he needed it. As long as he stayed safe, that was all you cared about. Besides, it didn’t hurt to have a bit more money.

Arthur sighed. “As well as it could’ve. Talked my ear off durin’ the ride back. As if that would save him from the fate he brought on himself. Bastard was caught stealin’ from an orphanage. An orphanage. And I thought I’d seen low.”

“Seems like the type of person who needed to be locked up, then.”

“You can say that again,” he grumbled. “Most of ‘em will go unpunished, though.”

“But it’s a start,” you countered.

“It’s a start,” he agreed, not having let go of your hand yet. “I saw the kitchen. Productive day?”

“Very. I was thinkin’,” you began, “we could head to Saint Denis tomorrow, sell it, maybe spend the night there.” Emerald Station was only a twenty-minute ride from your house, so it wouldn’t be undoable.

“I won’t say no, but is there a reason why?”

You shrugged. “Do I’ve gotta have a reason to spend the day with you?”

“No, you don’t,” he smiled. “It’s a date, then.”

You hummed in response with a smile of your own. Your smile widened when he pulled you closer, lips planted on top of your head.

“Seems I forgot to put something away,” Arthur murmured as his eyes flicked to the journal you’d dropped onto the bed. His eyes, which were once again filled with that familiar spark of life. “I found it this mornin’. Never thought I’d see the damn thing again.”

“I didn’t look at it,” you were quick to say. You were fairly certain that he wouldn’t be upset at you looking through his journal, but old habits die hard.

“You know I don’t mind,” he sighed, making his way to the bed, you following close behind. “Ain’t anythin’ in here that you don’t probably know.” The bed creaked as he sat, adjusting until his back was against the headboard, groaning as he stretched his legs out. With the journal in one hand, he patted the space beside him. “But we can still take a look.”

You held back a question about if he was certain; he trusted you with these things. Instead, you cuddled up beside him, and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you close. What you weren’t expecting, though, was for him to just hand the journal to you. “Enjoy the writings of a madman,” you heard him joke, making you shake your head lightly, a chuckle leaving you.

“You ain’t mad, Arthur. At least not completely.”

“I’m mad for you, darlin’.”

You groaned at that, making him laugh. “You sap.” Your heart thrummed happily in your chest, and he knew it.

“Can’t help it,” he said in defense. “It’s so easy to be when it’s with you.”

Another small groan left you, this time out of a bit of embarrassment, your cheeks warm. Unable to think of anything to say in response, you chose to open up the book instead, Arthur chuckling beside you.

The first page was a ledger, with initials on the left side, and money on the right. On the other side was a map of Blackwater. You’d learned all about what happened in Blackwater, memories of when Arthur first sat by your side and showed you his journal coming back.

The next handful of pages you glanced through recounted the events that had happened before the ferry job, all of which Arthur had already told you about. Then it was on to Colter, and you saw the sketch you’d seen of John again.

You continued to flip through the pages, beautiful images of animals, plants, and people catching your eye, reading the adjacent text that was sometimes near illegible. You had to admit it was quite lovely to see the world the way Arthur sees… saw it. Familiar faces appeared on the pages, making you smile, some fondly, some sadly. Arthur would occasionally add a bit of his thoughts as you read, but he mostly kept to himself, choosing to just watch the way you reacted instead. All of these stories you’d heard already; he had nothing more to add.

It was when you got to when the gang first arrived at Rhodes that you began to see new things, but you quickly understood why Arthur never told you these stories; you already knew them. They involved you.

You had to admit that seeing a sketch of the outside Hans’ house threw you for a loop, a small gasp leaving you. It had been so long since you’d seen it, the last time being when you’d retrieved all of your belongings over a year and a half ago, a few days after Arthur left. You still remember how numb you felt, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of your days rotting, but Maggie prevented that from happening, practically dragging you down to the house. You might’ve not been grateful for her then, but you were now. She helped you not to get lost in your grief.

Just like he had promised, everything had been taken care of when you arrived. If Hans ever got a proper burial or ended up in some ditch, you’d never know. And, quite honestly, you didn’t care.

You hadn’t grabbed much, a few items of clothing, the documents from Hans’ office as well as a few books, and the lockbox beneath your bed. All the furniture remained, ready for the new family that had bought the house. They kept marveling at the low price you’d sold it to them for, unknowing of the history those walls held. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, right?

No one knew the truth about Hans, except for you, a few of your family members, Sadie, and Arthur. To the rest of the world, Hans Kerrigan was murdered by your brother in a business meeting gone bad, leaving behind his estate and wealth to his heartbroken wife, and your brother in prison for the rest of his life (it had taken some persuading, but you managed to avoid the death penalty). For about a week after that news hit the papers, you had lines of suitors asking for your hand, their eyes set on the wealth you held. You turned them all down, easily.

As for the wealth you inherited, you gave a good portion of it back to your family, before donating the rest. No person needed that much money; there were others who needed it more. You made sure it was distributed to genuine causes, orphanages, shelters, hospitals, things like that. You made sure it was anonymous as well, not doing this for gratification.

After the matter of the house was settled, you moved on to dismantling his moonshine business. It took about a month, but eventually, all of his shacks were emptied; what became of them, you had no clue. That was far out of your control now.

You’d received quite a few threats during that time, all from angry partners of Hans’, but their threats were usually empty. Usually. There were a few instances of them showing up at your family’s estate, their words filled with promises of violence and worse, but they were quickly made an example of by the outlaw beside you.

You hadn’t realized you’d gone silent, lost in your thoughts until you heard your name being uttered by said outlaw. “You alright?” He asked, and you nodded, shooting him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, it’s just… a lot of memories comin’ back, you know?”

Arthur hummed in confirmation. “Is this too much?”

You shook your head. Even if it was distressing at times, it was good to go back over the past, as long as you didn’t get caught up in it. And you knew you wouldn’t; Arthur would make sure that. “I’m good. I promise.”

When Arthur seemed content with your response, you turned your attention back to the journal in your hands. The sketch was still startling to you, but it became less so after a few moments. The text beside it read: Robbed a homestead tonight, out by Ringneck Creek - or at least tried to until I ran into the owner. But instead of screaming, she offered me money. Didn’t stick around to see if her offer was genuine. Located as subtext at the bottom was Mr. Kerrigan?, indicating that Arthur noted to look further into Hans.

“My offer was genuine,” you commented, making Arthur scoff.

“Still don’t know why you did that.”

You shrugged. You weren’t quite sure either, but it didn’t matter.

Reading the words again, you couldn’t help but let the absurdity of the situation wash over you: the man who had broken into your house was now the love of your life, who now saw with his arm strung around your body. A soft chuckle left you, making Arthur hum inquisitively. “I just can’t believe that’s how we met,” you laughed. “Never in a million years did I imagine this,” you pointed to the text, “would lead to this,” you gestured to the way Arthur held you.

“Me neither,” he agreed. “Hellova story, though.”

That it was.

The next two pages contained a sketch of the town of Rhodes, followed by some text about the town, becoming deputies, and the blood feud between the Grays and the Braithwaites, something you’d completely forgotten about. But after that was a small excerpt about you and Hans.

Of course, the house I tried to rob last night belonged to one of the wealthiest men in Lemoyne, if not the States. It was his wife I ran into, Mrs. Kerrigan, whom I also saw in Rhodes, alongside her husband. She recognized me immediately but kept her mouth shut, thank God, or else Dutch’s plan would’ve been ruined then and there.

“Why didn’t you say anythin’?” Arthur asked, still never receiving a proper answer.

And you were going to disappoint him again, whispering, “I don’t know.” But then you added, “I think a part of me just knew.”

“That wasn’t the only time you caught me off guard that day,” he admitted, and you cocked your head, your curiosity piqued. “I wasn’t expectin’ ya to be so… tolerable to talk to, bein’ someone of your status. I also wasn’t expectin’ to enjoy your company so much… and I knew I wanted to get to know ya more.”

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint, then,” you chucked as you flipped the page, not expecting to see a sketch of you. Hans was standing beside you, but you could tell that a little more effort was put into your drawing than his. It was a small drawing, yet you could still read the discontent expression on your face, the tired look in your eyes. You were glad to say you hadn’t seen that look on you in a long time.

The next few entries about you were within a couple of pages of each other.

Sheriff Gray asked me to stop by the Kerrigan’s place, seemed real worried about their safety. Mrs. Kerrigan was outside, spent some time talking to her. She asked me to stop by every couple of days, paid, of course. I’ll see what I can do.

Stopped by the Kerrigan’s today, got paid, just like she promised. Ain’t nothing small, either. An opportunity, perhaps. She’s a strange woman, though, but she’s good. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t feel something towards her, but I can’t do anything about that.

I’m afraid I’m getting too close to Mrs. Kerrigan. She offered me dinner, and there was no way I could say no to her. No matter how many times I try not to, I end up touching her, but she doesn’t seem to be against it. She asked a lot of questions today, but I found I could tell her nothing but the truth, although I did manage not to confess everything. I’d never forgive myself if I scared her away.

Accompanying the last paragraph was a little sketch of the lighter Arthur had given you, causing your eyes to look over to the nightstand, where said gift sat. It had gotten hardly any use since you’d received it; at most, it lit a few candles. Still, you kept it close, as it was the first gift Arthur had ever given to you.

I can’t stop thinking about her.

It was the only text on the page, following a larger sketch of your face. It was a side profile, most likely captured from the day the two of you had sat side-by-side in the living room talking. How he managed to remember so much detail still astounded you; the drawing was nearly exact.

You felt as Arthur rubbed his neck, a nervous habit of his that you’d learned. When you glanced over, the red on his cheeks made it clear that he wasn’t nervous; he was embarrassed. “You regretting lettin’ me look at this?” You teased, ready to close the journal at any notice, though.

“I ain’t… but I sure as hell feel like a creep.” He gestured to the sketch of you.

That made you chuckle. In any other circumstance, it was creepy, but to you, it was simply endearing. “Only a little,” you admitted, making him groan, “but it’s sweet. And I don’t have many photos from then, so it’s nice to see what I looked like then, even if it was only a short bit ago.”

“You still look the same,” Arthur spoke slowly, confused.

And you did, physically at least. But there was a liveliness to you now, something that hadn’t existed during those two years of marriage, slowly returning when you met Arthur, and that was nearly extinguished when he left.

You still remember the day Arthur came back into your life like it was yesterday. It occurred about a month and a half after Arthur originally left, and to say you weren’t doing alright was an understatement. Yet you persevered, Arthur’s letter flashing in your mind whenever you wanted to give up.

It was another day of trying to figure out everything with Hans, while simultaneously learning from your father about how to run the tobacco farm. It was harder than you expected, but you didn’t let that stop you. You learned all about the crop until you could recite information about it in your sleep. You learned about how to manage employees, and how to provide for them as well as your family. You learned how to take care of the family’s finances, to balance the wages of those under your employment. You had to learn all that, and then you had to fix the two years of damage your brother had done.

If you thought Hans’ office was a mess, it was nothing compared to your brothers. Long days turned into long nights as you sorted through the mess of papers and books until you physically couldn’t anymore. More often than not, you fell asleep in the office, waking to your father knocking lightly on the door.

This night was no different than the others, rousing from the uncomfortable spot on the floor with a groan as your father stood in the doorway. Piles of papers sat around you, nearly getting knocked over as you stretched. But what was different this night was instead of leaving, like he normally did, your father lingered in the doorway.

“There’s someone here to see you,” was all he said.

“At this hour?” You glanced outside, expecting to see a dark night sky, but were startled when you were met with a sunrise. Early, but not too early for guests. “Who is it?” You grumbled, rubbing sleep from your eyes, before trying to make yourself presentable.

Your father’s silence did more to worry than reassure you, and so you asked again. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself,” he eventually responded, having known about your relationship with Arthur. He had to know, after all, he was the one who found you out in the courtyard, curled up in the dirt. Not for a second did you think that you were about to see Arthur again.

You hadn’t talked about Arthur since then, your father answering questions about him for you. But he was all you could think of, even when you were deep in work. Every day was extremely busy, per your intention, desperate for any reprieve from thinking about him. And you weren’t even free in your dreams, glimpses of a life you’d never have tormenting you nightly. You’d become a shell of your former self, and you were unsure if you were ever going to feel “normal” again.

Curious, and also worried, you followed your father out of the office, and down to the front entrance. As you walked, you wracked your mind over who it could be, understanding that you weren’t going to get an answer from your father. Was it a suitor? An angry partner of Hans’? They weren’t usually so mannered, choosing to stay outside of the house rather than face you themselves. For a second, you thought it might be Sadie, but that still didn’t explain why your father was acting so weird.

So imagine your shock when standing in the foyer, a little worse for wear yet alive, was Arthur. He had turned to face you upon hearing your arrival, a soft yet cautious smile on his face. Your father excused himself once realizing that the two of you needed privacy, making sure all the doors were shut and that it was just the two of you in the grand room.

Still standing at the top of the stairs that overlooked the room, you were stuck in place, unable to bring yourself to move. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run back the way you came or run down the stairs into his arms. A part of you was convinced that this was all some dream and that you’d wake in a few moments with no one beside you.

“Arthur?” You whispered, disbelieving what was in front of you. This wasn’t real, right?

If you weren’t so surprised, you would’ve expected him to make a joke at his expense. But all that left him was a quiet, “Yes.” It was as if he, too, was stunned at seeing you again, his eyes glimmering with emotion.

You still hadn’t made up your mind over what you wanted to do, but your legs decided for you, nearly stumbling over themselves as you ran down the stairs. The momentum in which you ran into him caused him to nearly fall over, but he held strong, his arms wrapping around your body and lifting you into his arms. You could feel tears streaming down your face as you buried it into the crook of his neck, your arms, and legs securing themselves around his body, barely noting that he’d gained back the weight he’d lost while he was sick. In fact, most of his strength seemed to be back, no longer struggling to hold you like he had last time, which you hadn’t noticed at the time.

“Y-You…” you tried to speak, but to no avail. You couldn’t formulate a sentence yet, and he seemed to understand.

He didn’t respond, just tightening his embrace, afraid that you would disappear from his arms. He held you for an indeterminate amount of time, until you untangled your legs from around his body, needing to see his face again.

He looked significantly better than he had, his eyes no longer bloodshot, but the bags under his eyes had yet to disappear. His skin was no longer sickly, either, with a healthy glow that came from his time out in the sun. His hair was longer, reaching his shoulders now, and still as soft as you remembered when you ran your fingers through it.

“I thought you were dead.” It tried to sound accusatory, but it came out as a soft admission instead.

“Me too. I really did.”

“Then… how?”

“I ain’t quite sure. I don’t remember much, really, I… I remember bein’ up on that mountain, with Dutch and Micah. And then I was alone, lookin’ over the sunset… and I thought that was it.” Arthur took a deep breath, noticeably clear of any rasping. “But it’s like my body refused to give up. I didn’t… couldn’t leave things the way I did. It took a hell of a lot of effort, but I made my way off that mountain. I only remember glimpses after that… but eventually, I woke up in a sanitarium. I was released a few days ago.”

So your panicked delusions were right; if you had taken him in, he would’ve gotten better. You wanted to be angry at his stubbornness, for his acceptance of his fate, but like always, you couldn’t. “But you’re okay?”

“For the most part, yes.” Upon your confused and worried expression, he explained further. “The damage it’s done to my body, that ain’t ever goin’ away. It’s just somethin’ I’ve gotta deal with now.”

“We have to deal with it,” you corrected. “Let me help you.” A pause. “Stay with me.”

Arthur had a shocked expression as if he wasn’t expecting you to be so willing to have him back. You wondered how often he played this scenario out in his head, and how many times he imagined you would tell him to leave. And maybe you should be more angry at him, to punish him for what he’d done, but you’d risk pushing him away forever. You’d gone long enough without him, though. You needed him back by your side.

“Alright,” was all Arthur said, already knowing his answer to your question. There was no hesitancy in his voice, only a deep and unwavering devotion to you. “I ain’t leavin’ you again, dalrin’.”

“Darlin’?” You heard Arthur’s voice, from the present this time, calling you once again out of your memories. “You’re worryin’ me.”

You ignored his concern, feeling almost drunk in the sheer amount of love you felt for the man as you looked at him. “I love you,” you whispered, although it wasn’t a secret.

That caught Arthur off-guard, but only for a single second, before a smile of his own grew on his face. “I love ya too.”

You’d never tire of hearing him say those words; it came so easily now.

Flipping the page, you felt him pull you the tiniest bit closer to his side, making you chuckle lightly. The next excerpt voiced his concerns about letting Dutch and Hosea work with you. In the end, nothing bad ever happened because of them, but of course, Arthur didn’t know that at the time. You could feel his anxiety radiating off his words, his already messy handwriting even more so.

The next page contained details of the deal you made with the two men and his disapproval of it, but that he couldn’t make that decision for you. You’d later find out that Hosea and Dutch did receive a significant amount of money from Hans during Bronte’s party, meaning that your deal was fulfilled.

But he also wrote: I wouldn’t trust myself to make any decision, not around her. It’s like my brain just shuts off, and I’d make a damn fool of myself. I nearly thought I did, but tonight ended better than I could’ve hoped for.

Next in the timeline of you and Arthur was the span of three and a half weeks that Hans was home, and Arthur had to keep his distance. His entires started off as small comments of complaint, a general displeasure of only being able to look at you. But as the days progressed, they became more frequent, and longer, until it was taking up the page. More and more sketches appeared, intermixed with the other entries and drawings, like you were always in the back of his mind. You were glad to know you weren’t the only one missing the other terribly during this time.

On the next page was a landscape drawing, the view you and Arthur had when he took you out on Bear for the first time. Bear, who currently sat in his stable outside, had become a loyal steed to you. Before Arthur’s return, there were many times the two of you would set out alone, just simply wandering, both missing the man beside you terribly.

She wasn’t wearing her ring. I damn near lost my mind. I know I’m thinking too much into things, but hope is a powerful thing. There are so many things I want to say to her, but I am a coward. I’m too afraid to even admit them to myself. Maybe I’ve pushed things too far. Maybe I should stop this. But I need it too much.

Then came the shootout in Rhodes, and the stretch of time after that.

Guilt eats at me every day, but I can’t see her. I shouldn’t see her. It’ll be dangerous if I do, and I’d never forgive myself if my selfishness caused her harm. This is for the best, no matter how much I wish it weren’t.

A few pages later: Of course, Javier gave her a ride. Of course, it was him. And of course, he had to let the others know about our situation. I can feel their eyes, their judgments. They don’t know how much I’m already beating myself over this.

I really shouldn’t see her. But I am a selfish man.

Damn it all.

You were going to make a comment about Javier, about how nice he had been to you, but you reconsidered. The fallout of the gang was still a fresh wound, barely having begun to heal, and you feared any comment from you might reopen it.

She loves me. Something I do not deserve, but she seemed so adamant. I do not deserve to wake up in her arms, do not deserve her kindness. If only she knew the things I’ve done. Would she still love me unconditionally still?

Even then, you knew the things Arthur had done; it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. And if you had been reading the papers, which you had, you’d’ve known of the Van Der Linde gang and their deeds, although they weren’t as bad as some of the others. In recent times, Arthur came clean, so to speak, about the blood on his hands, and the deeds he would most likely still commit. An old dog can’t learn new tricks, is what he had said.

It seemed he was wrong, though, having partially hung up the outlaw lifestyle. No longer living on the run, he now had a tangible place to call home, a place to rest without fear. He’d found some more socially acceptable jobs, although not by much, bounty hunting if the pay was decent. But it wasn’t the robbing and thieving he’d been doing for his entire life, which he thought he’d do for the rest of time.

It wasn’t until after you and Arthur got married that the law finally got off his tail, the bounty posters slowly disappearing, allowing Arthur to finally breathe. He had a fresh start, a new life ahead of him, with you by his side.

He wasn’t the only one starting fresh, though. After Arthur’s return, you stayed as head of the house for about another month, before bestowing most of the duties to your sister, Maggie. Now that Arthur was back, you weren’t content with that position anymore. Of course, you visited frequently, offering help and advice if needed, but you let most of it go. You wanted a quiet life now, and you certainly weren’t going to get it there.

It was then you bought the small cabin together, marrying shortly thereafter. It was a private ceremony, attended by your family, as well as Sadie, who seemed to be the only person from the Van Der Linde gang that was still close by. Arthur didn’t say anything, but you knew it meant a lot to him that she showed.

It was about a few weeks into your marriage that you saw first-hand the lingering effects the disease had on his body. It was like a switch had flipped, Arthur waking up one morning in agony, coughing like had when he was sick. For a while, you dreaded that it had come back, and this time it was taking it with him. But after a day or two, it passed, Arthur quickly regained his strength, and before long he was back to normal.

Those days happened occasionally, increasing in frequency during the colder months, but he bounced back each time. And even on the days he was doing good, if he overexerted himself, you’d hear that wheeze creep back into his lungs before getting shooed away by an annoyed cough from the man.

He hadn’t had an episode like that in a while, and a part of you hoped that his body was slowly recovering and that maybe one day these episodes would cease entirely.

It was so easy to feel hopeful now. Life finally felt easy, with no burden or expectations on either of you. When you thought of the future now, everything felt possible, achievable. Because of that, you felt yourself slowly begin to close the journal, making Arthur hum curiously.

“I don’t wanna think about the past anymore. Not today,” you explained, and you felt Arthur nod. You didn’t want to tell him that you were getting close to the memories that still haunted you, still plagued your dreams. You didn’t want to feel that dread again, not when you felt so hopeful, so light. And besides, everything worked out in the end. What good would it do you to think of the alternatives?

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” he sighed, the furrow in his brow deepening when he saw you were almost giddy with laughter. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“Nothin’,” you managed to say, turning your body so that you were facing him. “I’m just… so happy.”

Arthur relaxed, a light chuckle of his own leaving him. Your laughter returned when he tugged you into him, your hands planting on his chest, your legs on either side of his hips. His hands moved to now cup the sides of your face, gazing at you with pure adoration. “You make me happy, darlin’.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his words; he still rendered you speechless sometimes. Instead, you closed the distance between your lips, sighing contently at the contact. You could feel his lips curled tight into a smile, never leaving yours as he turned you over until your back rested against the bed.

Arthur pulled away then, choosing to rest his head on your chest, fingers trailing aimlessly up and down your arms before you wrapped them around him. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until then, sleepiness making you yawn. “You tired?” Arthur asked, and you nodded.

“I think I’m gonna sleep for a bit, “ you admitted. “Stay with me?”

You only meant staying in the bed with you, but there was a somber sincerity on his face as he leaned over you. “I ain’t leavin’ you. Never.”

You were so quick with pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose that he flinched, before chuckling softly. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Author's Note: this is a completely different ending than the one i had planned for this story, but i cound’t bring myself to go through with it once i saw how attached everyone got to the story. i’ll probs upload it seperaty (tumblr only) because i was ready to go full angst. and honestly, i like this ending better. arthur and reader deserve a happy ending, no matter if its “unrelalistic”.

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

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