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jointherebellion215 · 6 months

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Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile….

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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who could ever leave me, darling? | c55

Description: A rough patch happens in the middle of your rising career. Will he stay, or leave like all the boys before?

Pairing: carlos sainz/singer!reader

It was always common knowledge that a starlet falls from grace the moment she releases her fourth studio-album, you assumed that you were exempted from that curse - but turns out, you were wrong.

The moment that you dropped your first single of the album - it was crickets. Nothing but silence.

"I mean, personally - it's nothing to worry about. We haven't done any significant promos yet, and this is just the first song." your agent comforted you, quickly filling the small cup with your favorite beverage. "We should've done the promo before the album," your eyebrows merged into each other, feeling the atmosphere thicken.

It was a mistake signing a record-deal with a new studio.

"Yes - the chairman extends his apologies, but we'll fix it. You'll be in the top one hundreds in no time!" she comforted with a certain smile. "Okay, okay - thank you Andrea." you embraced her, praying to Jesus that she was right.

your_name_55: 'Love You - CS' is now out. I had so much fun writing this song - it's probably my fav!

2938 comments 891,283 likes

y/nworldbrazil: LOVE FROM BRAZIL 🇧🇷

carlossainz55: te amo tanto ❤️ - your_name_55: love you too cs 💗

bandanawrites: a lyrical masterpiece 🤤

A frustrated groan escapes your mouth - half relieved that the car was beginning to drive away from the paparazzi.

"Don't listen to them, they're just paps." Andrea comforted, seeing that you were bothered with what one of the photographers said. "Well, he's somehow right." you cross your arms, feeling anxiety gnaw on your bones. It was fun being known as a celebrity - but being called irrelevant to your face? You'd never get used to it.

"We've spent so much fucking money on promo and features and merch, but the point stands - I'm not even in the top 150." you shrug, feeling the tears attempt to fall from your eyes. "Our staff predicts that the song will take flight on the second or third week, please don't lose hope." she pleaded, holding your hand.

"Fuck all," you groan - staring back at the window.

Carlos Sainz: Hello, Andrea? Everything okay, no?

Andrea Gomes: I'm really sorry for calling you here [personal phone], but (Your Name) just hasn't been herself lately. I'm worried about her.

Carlos Sainz: She hasn't said anything about this to me. Is this because of her new song? I love it!

Andrea Gomes: (sigh)

Andrea Gomes: She didn't want to hurt your performance in the GP. Wasn't even supposed to call you but she hasn't come out of her room. It might be smart to take a breather.

Carlos Sainz: Thank you for telling me. Honestly, couldn't sleep last night. I'll be there in a few hours. Bye bye!

Andrea Gomes: Bye, Carlos!

carlossainz55: A much needed break 🥂 Let's do this again!!

tagged: your_name_55

918 comments 301,394 likes

your_name_55: thank you so much carlito 💗 - carlossainz55: ❤️

your_name_55: Congratulations on P1, my beautiful boy. 💗

293 comments 822,123 likes

carlandocontent: Great job Carlos!! So proud of you.

pokpokracing16: Vamos Carlos! More to come tomorrow.

carlossainz55: ❤️

your_name_55: Carlos to the premiere of 'ROSES' MV (held in our humble madrid home.)

182 comments 1,283,129 likes

y/nworld: why is this the only promo for roses 😭

Charles_Leclerc: Magnificent! - your_name_55: mr. eats-popcorn

LandoNorris: My favorite part was when the roses died - your_name_55: dark 😭

your_name_55: Thank you so much to the academy! also to @carlossainz55 and the entire f1 grid (the first people to listen to 'roses'.) I never could've done this without your support. #AlbumOfTheYear #RosesforY/N

0 comments 2,391,298 likes

comments have been restricted.

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz social media au #f1 social media au

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photo1030 · 7 months

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Leather and Lace - Chapter 21: Because You’re Mine, I Walk the Line

Summary: Arthur treats you to a stay in a hotel in the new town and promises to be on his best behavior.

Warnings: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This beautiful moodboard is graciously provided by @namesaretomainstream

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The gang has proceeded to move south to a secure area outside of a town called Blackwater. Winter will be upon the region soon and hopefully it will be a bit warmer by moving away from the mountains. The gang as a whole has not been in this area before, although Hosea worked a few jobs around here many years ago. Arthur and John went on ahead to scout while the rest of you pack up the camp.

The brothers have been gone for over a week before they meet you all along the trail to lead you to where they deem safe and out of the way. At first, you cringed a bit at the thought of Arthur and John being alone together for any extended period of time without any sort of buffer between them. They’ve been arguing a lot lately. While John has been trying to make an attempt at making his relationship with Abigail and Jack work (albeit a sometimes feeble attempt), Arthur is still quick to be irritable and impatient with him. You have to bite your tongue to refrain from reminding Arthur that he himself had a hard time coping with fatherhood when it was first thrust upon him. That is certainly a fight that you just do not want to have with him.

But on a positive note, the whole camp is excited with the new opportunity. A new area means new towns, new people, new goods available. And new jobs. But with that also comes more attention. The pressure of the local law is constantly present upon the gang and seemingly increasing of late. But Dutch seems to think he can continue to stay one step ahead. It’s a good thing for everyone that the Devil himself doesn’t have the confidence that Dutch Van Der Linde has. Otherwise the entire world and heaven above would be in trouble.

After getting everything settled with the new camp, Arthur decides that it’s time to pamper you a little. While out scouting the nearest little town he gets the idea to treat you to a stay at the local hotel for a hot bath, a real bed, and some private time alone for just the two of you. The town of Trimble is new and quaint. When Arthur tells you that he’s already told Dutch that the two of you will be out of camp for the next few days, your squeal of excitement is reward enough.

You are so looking forward to being alone in a hotel with Arthur for the first time. To be away from the prying eyes of camp and to not be interrupted every five minutes for one thing or another.

It's cloudy and overcast the morning that you are to leave. Although the temperature is brisk, you are warm with excitement. You are sure to clean yourself up and fix your hair to look pretty. You want everything to be perfect. You've always been a bit self-conscious of your appearance, but you’ve always managed to put yourself together well. Corsets help, of course. The belief has always been that if you were done up with curled hair and a bit of rouge on your cheeks, it would distract from the way your curves are hidden within a pretty dress. As you stand in your tent and finish pulling at the lavender-colored cotton of your sleeves, you hear a slow whistle behind you.

“Look at you! Pretty like a meadow flower. Ain’t I a lucky man.” Looking over your shoulder, Arthur stands at the opening of your shared tent, one arm slung up to hang from the top of the tent support pole, the other hand tucked lazily into his belt. A grin of approval sits upon his handsome face as his eyes float up and down over your frame.

“Why, thank you,” you giggle, blushing slightly. “Don’t forget to give yourself time to clean up, too, before we go.”

“What?” His face quickly turns to a pout like a confused child.

“Hey, I spent a lot of time getting myself put together for you,” you playfully scold him. Arthur’s eyes follow your nimble fingers as they adjust the delicate earring you are popping into your ear. Thoughts of his teeth nibbling on that same earlobe last night skitter distractedly through his mind.

“That’s your own fault,” he teases, refocusing on the conversation at hand. “I think you look perfect the way you were.”

Oh, how your heart does a somersault at his genuine flattery. No one has ever spoken to you the way that Arthur does. “I’m sure you do. But listen, I want to look nice for you, okay? And, besides, I can’t be the only good-looking one walking around.”

“Sweetheart, that’s going to be the case regardless of what I manage to put together with this.” He waves at himself dismissively. You take notice of the dried mud stains on his faded brown shirt and vest and make a mental note that his threadbare jacket needs mending yet again.

“Shut it, that’s my man you’re talking about.” You shoot Arthur an impish glare as you walk over to him, placing your hand along his ribs. “Now wash yourself up or I’ll be forced to do it for you.” You grab his chin and pull him down for a quick peck on the lips.

Arthur playfully raises an eyebrow at you. “You flirtin’ with me already?”

Your laugh carries through the air as you walk past him out of the tent and head over to where Mary-Beth and Tilly sit. They promised to help you set your hair before you leave.

He grumbles about it, but Arthur concedes to the task, knowing how excited you are for your little holiday. He washes his face in the basin you set out for him in the tent, noting how the dirty water runs over his fingers and cringes at how you were right as usual. He even goes so far as to shave for you. Not too clean, but keeping the beard stubble to the length that you prefer. He wipes his chin with his shaving towel, observing you as you flit about the camp, preparing for your departure. You are absolutely giddy, giggling and whispering with the other girls as they offer to help you primp and prepare for your romantic stay. He smiles to himself, glad that he made that decision to get you out for a bit.

Arthur feels as if he’s finally met his match with you, the one person who is brave enough to love him as he is, and strong enough to handle all of him, even the broken parts. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want the world, you just want to feel safe and secure in his world. You have made him that one promise that he’s ever needed to hear in his life and that is to never give up on him. And he wants to do whatever he can to make that an easier choice for you.

As you pack your saddle bags and get the horses ready for the ride, Hosea strides over to give the two of you a quick reminder to behave and be mindful. The gang is new to the area and still getting its bearings. You all need to lay low until you know what you’re dealing with.

“Now remember, no fighting. No stealing. No riots. I don’t need to be making a house-call to the local jailhouse to bail you out so soon.” As he speaks, you watch the smoke rise from Hosea’s cigarette and circle his head like a crown, his eyes squinting slightly at the burn.

“We’ll be fine.” Arthur rolls his eyes dismissively at the older man as he finishes tying up Buck’s saddle.

“I’m talkin’ about you specifically,” Hosea stresses, poking his finger into Arthur’s chest. “I’m not worried about Y/N acting like a fool.”

“Calm down. I’ll have her along with me.” Arthur waves his hand towards you. “She’ll keep me straight and make me tow the line.”

“I hope so. But you’re also a bull in a china shop when it comes to her.” Hosea tips his head in your direction. “Just keep your head about you, would you?”

“I got this, ‘sea.” You flash a smile and give the man a kiss on the cheek right below his graying temple. “I’ll make sure Arthur stays in line.”

Hosea’s scowl at Arthur turns to a loving grin at you. “I’m sure you will, my dear. Because you’re the only one with any damn sense around here.” He affectionately pats your hand.

“Hey!” whines Arthur, defensively. Hosea waves him off, giving one last “be careful”, and walks back towards his chair. Arthur turns back to you and swats your arm. “Kiss-ass.”

You can only roll your eyes with a short laugh as you finish packing Blue’s saddlebags.

————————————

The ride to Trimble doesn’t take too long, only about thirty minutes on horseback. The sun is still fighting to break the clouds and the wind kicks up, churning the last remnants of fall leaves on the ground at your horses’ feet. It’s late morning by the time you arrive and the townspeople are already bustling about. Arthur was right, the town is quaint and charming.

As you lead your horses down the street, you look up excitedly at the approaching hotel sign. The two of you get your horses hitched to the post outside just as an idea comes to you and you search the street to see what is around.

You point at the general store which is a couple of doors down. “Before we head to the room, I want to make a quick stop.”

“For what?” asks Arthur as he follows you next door, his gaze lingering on the hotel instead. He is anxious to get to your room and begin your stay together.

“I want to get a few things. Some food, things like that.”

“They have food at the hotel, you know,” he huffs. You can hear Arthur’s boots scrape against the wood of the boardwalk behind you as he slightly drags his feet, reluctant to be side-tracked with any errands.

Pausing just outside the door of the store, you turn with a smirk. You press yourself up against him, purposely pushing your cleavage against his hard chest. “I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of even being dressed, let alone leaving that room for the next two days, mister.”

Arthur’s eyes roll shut, head tilting back for a moment with a groan at the very thought of being blissfully naked for two full days. When he looks down into your beautiful face again, his sapphire eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Woman, I’m gonna make you sing like the angel you are,” he growls out.

“Such things you say, Mr. Morgan,” you purr back with the most unladylike smile.

“I’m trying my best to be a gentleman right now, Y/N. But if you keep lookin’ at me like that with the devil in your eye…we’re fucking on the closest thing I can find to bend you over on.”

Your legs actually quiver at the thought. You know you shouldn’t be excited by such vulgarity. But then again, you can’t help but be tempted to tease this theory of his as he leans over you so close that you can feel the heat beginning to radiate off of him, even in the chilly air.

“I have to warn you, Arthur, I may scratch and I may bite.” Your fingertip runs down his cheek and along his jawline.

“You’ll crawl and beg, too, when I’m done with you,” he promises.

A sultry giggle erupts from your lips as you reach up to place a short, yet heated kiss upon his plump lips. Arthur then dips in closer to place a quick love bite along your neck, drawing a quick little yelp from you.

Your focus is broken when you hear an annoyed tsk from somewhere next to you and you catch the disapproving glances from an older couple who are passing along on the street. You quickly clear your throat, tapping Arthur’s shoulder to indicate that he needs to stop this little scene. You blush, hiding your face into your hands, and lean into his chest with an embarrassed little groan.

“C’mon” chuckles Arthur as he places a kiss to the top of your head, “Let’s get this little errand of yours done so we can get started. Looks like we’re on borrowed time.”

It is a quick shopping trip inside the store for you. The little shop is kept neat and well-stocked, with natural light pouring in through the windows along the front. Dried herbs and woven baskets hang from the ceiling and barrels of various items line the walls. The store has everything from grains to produce, from ropes and hammers to books and socks.

Arthur leans against the sales counter as you walk about the store to grab a few things, such as some fruit, dried meats, a loaf of bread, a small brick of cheese and a bottle of cheap wine. In and out within a few minutes and then you and Arthur head back towards the hotel.

Walking into the establishment, it is warm and cheerful. It is a fairly large open area with the front desk centered along the back wall. To the left is what seems to be a small restaurant-cafe with a mixture of aromas drifting through the enclosed space, and to the right is a sitting room where some of the guests are playing checkers while sipping on coffee. The woodwork is white-washed and simple paintings adorn the walls.

Behind the desk is a short, plump woman, looking to be about in her 50’s. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, with streaks of gray ribboning through it. She sets down the book she is reading and peers over her spectacles when she hears the bell above the door ring as you and Arthur come through the threshold.

“Afternoon, folks,” she greets you with a wide, toothy smile. “What can I do for you?”

Arthur strides up to the desk, placing his hands upon the smoothly painted wood. “The lady and I need a room. We’ve been on the road for a bit, so we’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind,” he stresses. “Peace and quiet, that sort of thing.” He fills out the ledger she pushes towards him on the counter.

“Of course, Mr…Callahan.” She nods as she reads the name scrawled in his handwriting. “Well, I have the room at the far end of the hall that’s empty. No one else on that side.” She points up the stairs and to the right. “It’s the smallest room I got, but it’s going to be the quietest.”

“We don’t need big. We need private,” Arthur says, rather short and curt in his demeanor and the woman gives him a curious look.

“Newly weds”, you quickly interject as if answering the woman’s unasked question with a radiant smile on your lips as your nose wrinkles with excitement. You lace your arms around Arthur’s as you lay your head against his shoulder, playing up the act. Arthur looks over at you with a smirk.

“Oh!” She smiles back. “How sweet.” But her face drops a bit when she looks at your hand. She looks puzzled as you follow her gaze.

“I don’t wear my ring when we travel.” You flutter your fingers for emphasis. “A lot of questionable folks in this area. You understand.”

She smiles again and nods. “Of course. I don’t blame you, Miss. Enjoy your stay.” She slides the room key to Arthur, pointing in the general direction you need to head. You both thank her for her kindness and quickly make for the staircase to head upstairs.

As you walk down the hallway, Arthur leans down to your ear. “‘Questionable folks’? If only she knew.”

“Shh! Don’t worry about that now,” your voice floats with a wispy tone. “We’re not outlaws for the next two days. We’re just-“

“Newly weds.” He smiles down at you.

“That’s right. Newly weds.” You grin ear to ear back at him. “And I think we have some ‘consummating’ to do.”

You come to the end of the hall, arriving at Number 6. Twisting the key into the slightly stubborn iron lock, Arthur pushes the door open for you. You step into the room and survey your temporary lodging. Your mouth gapes slightly, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. It's adorable.

The room is in fact small, but offers enough space to move about comfortably. It’s painted a simple white, bright and airy, to match the lobby with little pitchers of dried flowers on the one small table in the room and on the one dresser that is available. White eyelet curtains swag across the two small windows that flank the bed that sits in the middle of the wall. A beautiful mauve comforter adorns the mattress with a metal frame securing it. You smile wickedly as you have plans for that headboard.

Arthur steps in behind you as he closes the door and heads over to the small fireplace to get a fire going. You set your few things on the small table and make your way to the bed. Your hand runs along the soft bedding, gliding along the surface as if trailing your fingertips through water. It’s been awhile since you've experienced such finery, such as it is. Slowly lowering yourself down onto the bed, you lay backwards, letting the muscles of your back unknot themselves as you take a deep calming breath. The feeling of the fluffy quilt envelops you as if you are floating on a cloud as you sink back, the scent of clean linen wafting in the air.

“Oh, I almost forgot what a real bed feels like.” A deep and lazy sigh exhales from your chest, making the bodice of your dress float. When you open your eyes, you see Arthur watching you intently. “Are you going to join me?”

Arthur’s only answer is a grin as he proceeds to take off his gun belt, laying it across the table next to your bags with a slight thud and strides over to you, his vivid eyes shining. As he approaches the bed, you roll to sit up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle and sweetly kiss him. His large, warm hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he smiles into your mouth in return. Suddenly, you stop, pulling back to look at him.

“Do you hear that?” you whisper.

Startled, Arthur’s eyes narrow as he tries to listen. His body stiffens slightly as a defensive reflex.

“Silence”, you breathe even lower. “There’s no one. No Dutch. No Susan. No Sean. And -” you pause for emphasis- “no Micah. Just you and me.” Your eyes gleam ecstatically as you collect his face into your gentle hands.

A huge smile slowly blooms across Arthur’s face as reality has fully hit him now. ‘Just you and me.’ It’s a beautiful little sentiment, isn’t it?

“Well, let’s not waste a single minute of it, then,” he says. He gently forces you back down to the bed as he lays himself over top of you. You giggle as your arms wrap around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him to you. After a few tender moments of soft kisses, Arthur rolls to lay along your side and his hand splays across your stomach, sliding down to knead the tender skin there. You rotate your hips to press against him, your leg coming up to slot with his. When your hand comes to rest over his heart, Arthur places his own over top of it, holding it there.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost in your own little universe. Arthur’s hands begin to move faster, just as his lips do. The kisses become more passionate, the moaning and heavy breathing escalates. Grasping and pinching takes hold of your extremities.

The world outside the walls of this tiny rented room ceases to exist and fades away. The only things that matter are you and Arthur. You do not hear the horses and chatter from the street below. You do not smell the dinner being prepared in the kitchen of the hotel. You can only feel the soft bed beneath you and the hot skin of the person you are entwined with. And you only see the loving face that hovers in front of you.

Arthur suddenly stands up to unbutton his shirt and pull his trousers off. While he is occupied, you quickly whip off your blouse and your underclothes along with it. You grab a hold of the strings of your skirt when he abruptly stops you.

“Hold on,” Arthur murmurs, holding his hand out over your fingers. He gets that lustful look in his eyes that you know all too well. “Do it real slow-like. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Your eyelashes flutter as a crimson-blush floats across the apple of your cheeks. But you oblige, of course, coyly pulling at the strings, your fingers daintily raised in emphasis.

Once the skirt is gone, Arthur tenderly reaches down and lifts your legs one at a time to take off your boots, leaving each foot resting on his abdomen. You curl your toes and flirtatiously extend your legs up to hook them under the collar of his union suit. Deftly using your feet, you push the sides of the fabric down over his muscled arms to expose his chest and effectively spread your legs wide for him in the process.

He pauses at the sight, eyes dark and carnal. He swallows thickly before he even attempts to speak. “Just be warned, I’m about to break you in half, woman.” His fingers trail over your calves in anticipation.

You smile mischievously and run your foot along the front of his thigh. “Oh, I surely hope so, mister. I was counting on it.”

The way Arthur makes you feel about yourself is unparalleled. He makes you feel beautiful and loved. Never in your life have you ever felt so wanted and desired. He is a man who has little in this tumultuous world so he values the things that he does have. And the idea that Arthur treasures you above all things sets your heart to flutter. He is strong and unyielding. And yet, you, simply you, have captured his heart to hold him hostage. While you calm his restless soul, he in turn makes you feel vibrant and alive.

Before you can say or do anything more, Arthur grabs your legs, yanking you closer to him as a squeal escapes from your lips until your rear sits at the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, tossing your legs over his broad shoulders as your thighs slowly fall open for him.

Arthur cradles your leg to him as he places languid kisses along your plush limbs. Starting from your knee, his hot tongue darts in and out as his lips travel along the soft skin to your plump thighs, creeping his way towards your heat. He moves agonizingly slow, but the sheer feeling of it makes time stand still.

You sit up on your elbows and watch him work, delighted in how much he revels in the experience. Arthur fully plans on indulging himself and taking complete advantage of the situation. No interruptions, no nosy eyes and ears. The comfort and warmth of a proper shelter lending to the tender atmosphere. Arthur will covet every little thing and every single moment that he has with you for the next two days.

His strong hands float across the skin of your thighs to meet where his mouth is, coming together at the apex between your legs. Your breath hitches as his thick fingertips gently graze over the tender folds of skin. Your mouth gapes slightly at the incredible sensation. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he assesses the treasure before him. A quick look up to catch your loving gaze before he dips down, his tongue dragging along the slit of your heat. Your eyes instantly flutter with a staggered breath ghosting from your lips. He begins to wag his tongue back and forth, basking in your taste. Before long, he slides his finger up along the skin, sliding in and out, covered in your wetness.

The two techniques in conjunction cause you to moan loudly. Your head falls back between your shoulder blades causing your breasts to angle up higher for his viewing pleasure. But you bite your lip to try to stifle yourself out of habit, afraid someone will hear.

“Go ahead and make all the pretty little noises you want, Darlin’. Ain’t no one gonna hear ya,” Arthur smirks. He runs his palm over your mound, gently massaging the flesh there.

“We’re not alone in this building, you know,” you pant, trying to catch your breath already. “Someone will eventually hear.”

“No one I care about.” He gives you that wicked wink.

You shoot him a kittenish look as he sets about his work again as if determined to prove his point. His mouth works you over with more force this time, completely encompassing your heat, as a second thick finger is added. Your arms give out as you drop to the mattress. You mewl and moan as you completely give in, and the sounds coming from your panting mouth only encourage Arthur to go faster and deeper. He tightly wraps his arm around your leg, pulling your hips open even more to give him access to your core. His tongue flicks over that sensitive bud, sucking and releasing while his fingers push and retract, curling as they move along the velvety walls inside you.

The muscles in your abdomen tighten as your orgasm explodes within you. You practically scream as your hands fist the blanket under you until your knuckles turn white, your whole body spasming under Arthur’s arms as he holds you in place. But instead of leaving you spent, it makes you crave even more.

“Arthur?” Your voice is breathless and shaky.

“Hmm?” He asks smugly, going back to leaving slow kisses along your thighs again. The feeling of his beard prickling your sensitive skin makes you shudder.

“I’m positive that this is only the beginning of what you have in mind. So whatever you’re going to do next, you had better get started. Because I can’t wait much longer to feel you inside me properly.”

His eyes meet your half-lidded ones, which are lust-drunk and captivating. “You got me wrapped around your pretty little fingers, you know that?”

“You got it all wrong, my love. It’s gonna be me wrapped around you. Now get over here.” You lift your leg to use it to pull him up to you.

The little term of endearment melts his heart and Arthur quickly stands to pull off the rest of his clothing in a hurry before he climbs over you, the muscles of his back rippling as he hurriedly moves to meet your lips. Your hands greedily run into his hair and then fan-out over his broad shoulders. Your legs wrap around his lower half as he sinks down over you. You can feel his hard cock rub against you and you groan into his mouth. He’s hard as a rock, his tip hot to the touch. God, you want him so badly right now. You impatiently reach between you to wrap your soft hand around his member, pumping and stroking him and he hisses in your ear in response, biting on your neck.

Arthur sits up on the bed, resting back on his heels so that he can get a full view of you. Your body writhes lying beneath him, your arms extended to run your hands along his thick thighs and across his lower abdomen. The tips of your fingers trail through the hair that makes its way towards the “v” of his groin.

Arthur teases your opening with his cock, watching as your eyes roll back. Once he’s graced the entrance, he grabs your knees and pushes his hips forward, sliding himself into your warm cunt. You clench around him as if to trap him inside of you, never to let him leave. He is entranced by the way your back arches backwards, practically bent in half, as he pushes inch by heavenly inch, in order to achieve the greatest reach.

“C’mon, baby, dance for me,” he utters.

Arthur studies the beauty of your eyes as he begins to thrust into you. He knows every line of your face from watching you from afar and viewing you up close. Leaning over you, he caresses your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into his calloused hand even more. He cherishes you as he holds your face in his palm. You are totally, and absolutely, his. Sighing deeply with such affection, he gathers your hair in his fist, sliding his fingers back into your locks to pull your head back.

At one point, you try to push him over to take control, but he isn’t having it. Arthur is too lost in his own lust to give up control now. When he feels you push against his chest, he collects your wrists into his much larger hand to pin them over your head into the mattress. He grabs your leg and hooks his powerful arm under it to keep you exactly where he wants you as his thrusts pick up speed and force.

Up until now, you and Arthur have been heated, but nothing like this. He looks down at you, taken in at how you need him just as much as he needs you. He is speechless and suddenly greedy for more. He suddenly pulls himself out of you, and you gasp in disappointment at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes shoot wide open, eyebrows furrowed and questioning his motives. But he acts quickly. Arthur’s hands wrap around your sides as he abruptly flips you over on the mattress and pulls you up on all fours by your hips.

He reaches around and rakes his fingers over your heat, gathering some of your wetness to lubricate himself. Taking himself in hand, Arthur places his throbbing tip against your heat again, but this time from behind, rubbing back and forth to nestle between the sensitive folds. The mewl that drops from your lips is both animalistic and divine as your eyes screw shut as you take him again. He pushes himself into you, a loud grunt of his own filling the air.

You’ve never done it like this before. This was something you’ve heard whispered but never experienced yourself.

With this angle, Arthur’s cock drags along the roof of your cunt, dragging across nerves that are being teased in a whole new way. The upward diagonal direction of his grinding feels different, yet exponentially amazing. He’s trying to be mindful to see if you are okay with this new “experiment”, not wanting to cross a line, but he quickly loses himself. His head is spinning and he shoves himself into you, hips snapping sharply.

Stars begin to cloud your vision as your senses become overwhelmed. You feel him everywhere, inside you and all around you. You feel as if you could burst into flames right now. You’re not sure where your head is at, probably lost in oblivion, but you turn your chin to your shoulder. And watching Arthur’s face contorted in pleasure sets you off on a whole new level of desire. In a surprising act of boldness, with a breathy little whimper, you simply mutter the word “harder”.

Silly girl that you are.

Recognition flashes in Arthur’s eyes as his fingertips dig into your hips. There’s a quick smack to your ass-cheek as if sending his horse into a gallop and he’s off.

Arthur begins to pound into you relentlessly now, knowing that you are enjoying this as much as he is, sending your skin shuttering with each blow. He begins to grunt loudly as his hips snap at an increasingly faster pace. You can feel the bed itself shifting under you from his force.

With the unabated jarring of his pelvis, you lose your balance and your arms give out. Your forehead drops, digging into your forearms, but it also raises your hips even more, adding to the heavenly sensation.

Arthur eventually wraps his arm under your rib cage and pulls you up to hold you against his broad chest. The burly arm wraps around your shoulders while the other snakes down your front to fondle the delicate skin of your heat again. His mouth latches onto your neck, his forehead digging into your temple. In an attempt to grasp onto something to anchor yourself to this planet, your own arm reaches behind you to wrap around behind Arthur’s head, your fingers clenching the thick waves of sandy-blonde hair as you cry out his name. It always sends him into a heated frenzy to hear you say his name laced with such wanton desire. Sometimes, you’ll even simply whisper his name into his ear when you are just sitting by the fire, innocently nestled in his lap.

The air is filled with the scent of sweat, leather, and cigarette smoke, coupled with the rose-water you washed your hair with. Your moaning and Arthur's lustful grunts echo loudly within the small space, the sound bouncing off of the walls like a sinful orchestra.

Arthur’s powerful arms wrap around you like a large jungle snake, restrictive and making it hard to catch your breath. He holds you as if afraid to let go, afraid that you could be taken from him. Or worse yet, leave of your own accord. This whole thing is still so new to him. As wonderful as you are, there is still that sliver, that crack in his black, broken heart, that this is all too good to be true. He is still waiting for that hammer to fall and crush his fragile dream. And yet still, Arthur keeps barreling forward with his cock buried inside of you, hips bucking, until your head snaps back with your second orgasm.

Once you’re spent, your body goes limp in Arthur’s arms. His own pace sputters as he reaches his own climax shortly after you and he pulls himself out to finish on the back of your legs.

Panting heavily, you are lightheaded and collapse onto the bed under you, thankful for the cushioning that catches you.

Arthur slowly leans over you as his chest tries to recapture air into his lungs. His hands rest on either side of your body, allowing his forehead to rest between your shoulder blades. Eventually you can feel his lips leaving soft little kisses along your back.

“Good Lord, Arthur,” you chuckle, you back arching like a cat in response to his lips scattering across your skin.

“I did warn you.”

“That you did.” A satisfied hum leaves your trembling lips as you flip back over and catch him between your legs, trapping him between your thighs. His face and chest glisten with a thin sheen of sweat, even in the chilled room. “Just remember, Arthur, payback is a bitch.” And the look of absolute adoration fills his eyes at your statement.

You find the energy to sit up, propping yourself up on one elbow with the other arm slung around his shoulders. Foreheads affectionately touch together while you both catch your breath. You pepper Arthur’s face with kisses, causing the most adorable chuckle to spring from his mouth.

“This was such a good idea,” you sigh.

“Probably one of my better ones, for sure,” he agrees.

“You realize this is where we live now, right?”

“If only that were true.” Arthur gives you a sweet but sad smile before nudging your nose with his. You’ve noticed that it’s a gesture of affection that he often does with you, one that you know is meant to say ‘I love you’ without having to say it out loud.

“Well, then let’s make the most of the time we have,” you whisper. You gently pull him over you like a blanket, wrapping your arms and legs around him, your lips pressed to his. He sinks into you again with pleasure.

You spend the rest of the evening lying naked upon the bed, staring into each other’s eyes. You talk about different things, snickering and laughing, and just simply enjoy each other’s presence. You make love two more times before falling blissfully asleep in each other’s arms at some point into the very-early morning while the stars still shine in the sky, completely exhausted.

The next morning, as the sun needles its way into your windows, you roll over and bury your face into your billowy pillow. It was a late night and the idea of sleeping-in with no one hollering for you to begin work is so satisfying. You stretch your legs, wiggling a bit into the sheets and blankets. The fabric is soft wrapped around your bare body.

When Arthur’s arm enfolds you from behind, pulling you back and tucking you against him, you begin to smile softly. His much larger frame presses against the entire length of yours, making you feel safe and comforted. If heaven on Earth exists, it is right here in this tiny room, nestled quietly within this little hotel.

And it is in this blissful moment that the overwhelming realization washes over you. That there is so much more to life than simply surviving it. There is Arthur. There’s the two of you, planning and building a life together.

—---------------------------------------

After a day and a half of being holed-up in the hotel room, you and Arthur decide to head out to the saloon for a change of scenery. The fresh air and sunlight will do you both some good.

The last several hours have been spent alternating passionate love-making and catching up on much-needed rest, with Arthur taking some time to work in his journal while you relaxed and read a new novel that Mary-Beth loaned you.

You take your time in getting dressed, with no urgency to be anywhere. You have to keep swatting Arthur’s hand away when he keeps trying to undo the strings of your clothing the minute you have them tied. But eventually, you manage to get yourselves together and head downstairs.

The same woman who checked you in yesterday is sweeping the floor of the lobby and upon hearing footsteps from above, she looks up. But when she recognizes who is coming down, she shyly avoids eye contact, her face red as she sees the two of you descend the stairs. She goes back to her task, dragging the broom across the floorboards at a faster pace to avoid any awkward conversations. At first you don’t understand the behavior, but it quickly dawns on you that she must have heard your amorous activities last night.

“Whoops,” you whisper to yourself under your breath, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you walk through the lobby.

“Huh?” Arthur looks at you confused.

“Nevermind, just keep walking,” you chuckle, grabbing his arm and pushing him ahead of you and out the front door.

The saloon isn’t too far down, just about a five minute walk. With your arm linked with Arthur’s, you walk into the bar and look around excitedly. Arthur, however, is immediately on high-alert. He notices several heads turn upon your entrance, not to watch him for once, but to curiously eye-up the woman beside him. You are radiant. Your eyes are bright and cheeks flushed with color. You have a natural glow about you due to the past thirty-six hours in your hotel room.

Naturally you don’t notice the lingering eyes of the drunken patrons, but Arthur certainly does. He stiffens a bit in reaction to the gawking stares. But as soon as you wrap your arms around his bicep and lean in to whisper something in his ear, everyone knows who’s arm you’ll be on tonight.

Arthur knows it’s selfish, but for once, he is the envy of everyone. And his chest proudly puffs out a bit as he escorts you with a swagger in his step through the room to a table.

A waitress brings you and Arthur drinks and you sit comfortably in the corner, nuzzling up on each other, minding your own business. But it doesn’t take long for your privacy to be intruded upon.

“Hey, Arthur! Y/N!” You hear John’s raspy voice cut through the noise of the saloon. Looking up, you see him and Abigail making their way to your table. “See? Told you they’d be here,” he says to Abigail.

You and Arthur are a bit speechless at first, not expecting to see anyone you know tonight. “What are you two doin’ here?” Arthur asks.

“Needed to get Abigail out of camp before she plants a knife in someone,” snickers John as he pulls a chair out for the woman to sit before pulling out a second one for himself and tossing his lean leg over it to settle in next to her.

“Damn idiots, being stupid!” she hisses as she plunks down onto the hard wooden chair. You nod in acknowledgement with a sigh, as you completely understand Abigail’s frustration. And although you are disappointed that your time with Arthur is being interrupted, you are happy to see that John and Abigail are trying to spend a little time together, too and you all proceed to have a drink together.

And soon enough, the doors swing open and in walks Sean, Karen, Lenny, and Charles as well.

Arthur’s head turns when he sees them and you are quick to catch his groan and eye-roll. “Damn it,” he mutters under his breath.

With a sigh of resignation, you lean your shoulder into his. “I suppose you’re right, you could never leave the gang and go off on your own. Everywhere you go, they follow.” You nudge your chin in their direction with a slight laugh.

“Oh no, don’t blame me on this. They follow you around just as much as me now,” he teases. “And besides, it’s ‘we’ - we couldn’t go off on our own. It’s you and me, remember?”

“That’s right.” You smile brightly and lift your beer bottle to clink to his in a toast.

“Ah, well would ya look who it is!” exclaims Sean as he wraps his arm around Karen’s shoulders and saunters over to your corner to join the four of you. And before you know it, Lenny and Charles grab a nearby table, dragging it closer to yours and the lot of you settle in for a good time.

The night carries on, with singing, dancing and many drinks to be passed amongst your friends. Lively music fills the air as the amber glow of the oil lamps begins to push back against the encroaching shadows of the setting sun. And all the while, you sit in the corner curled up to Arthur all night.

Abigail observes the two of you together throughout the evening and smiles to herself. She notices that it is the subtle things about the two of you that are so endearing. Arthur comes up behind you, his arm gliding around your waist as you lean back into him. Occasionally his head lowers closer to your cheek and you turn upward, your hand coming up to cup his face as you smile at him. Arthur doesn’t possessively plant kisses all over you in public, but just the slightest turn of his lips towards your temple as you speak. Or it’s his hand on the small of your back as you walk about. Even when he simply pulls your chair out and holds your arm to help you to sit, it is the simplest of loving actions that stand out.

Abigail’s smile widens as her chin sits in her hand. She is so happy for you both, but especially Arthur. He’s been through so much and has been so lonely for so long. She marvels at how different Arthur is now, at how time has changed him. John tries to show his affection in his own way, but nothing as soft and romantic as Arthur. Ironic how Arthur is the larger, more brutish of the two men, yet he is actually the softer of them.

Noticing that more drinks are needed, you head over to the bar to secure another round for your group. You lean on the wooden surface, patiently waiting for the barkeep’s attention when you sense a presence out of the corner of your eye. A man sidles up next to you, standing a little too close for comfort. You can’t help but to notice how his beady eyes rake over you, the smell of whiskey emanating off of him like a cloud.

“Evenin’!” Casting your gaze briefly to your right towards the scraggly voice, you notice the man is greasy and lean. His dark hair is combed back under his hat and he carries himself with a cocky air about him.

You give him a polite but quick, “Good evening.”

“Couldn't help but notice a pretty thing like you in a place like this. You must be new. How much you cost?”

Your lips pull inward, trying not to be offensive in your answer as you feel your face start to burn hot. “I’m not for sale. And even if I was, you couldn’t afford my rate.”

The man’s face drops a bit of its smugness, shifting his weight from hip to hip. “Oh, you’re one of those stuck-up girls, are you?”

“No. Just spoken for, is all.”

“Real shame. I could show you a good time.” The man licks his lips in a disgusting gesture, making your skin crawl. Even Micah is better behaved than this man.

A slow and measured sigh escapes your lips. “I’m already having a good time. With someone else.” Although your words are nice enough, the tone is laced with annoyance.

Meanwhile, Arthur’s eyes never leave you as he is watching very closely how this scene is playing out at the bar. He tunes-out the nonsensical blabbering of Sean sitting next to him as his hand tightens down around the bottle he is holding.

But you’ve decided you've had enough of the cretin’s advances and try to push past the idiot to return to your friends, and more importantly, to Arthur. But the man lays his hand on your shoulder, preventing you from leaving. “Now wait a minute, I ain’t done with you.”

“Oh, but I am done with you.” Your eyebrows raise to accentuate your point. “Now if you will excuse me.”

But he quickly grabs your arm, squeezing harshly. “I said-”

In this split second, time stands still and Arthur’s perception of things slows to a crawl as his vision sees red when your face twists up in pain from the harsh grab of this fool. Arthur springs up from his chair, tossing it backward with the force and a speed that belies his size, and he bolts over to the two of you.

Arthur clamps his massive hand around the man’s wrist with a crushing force, halting him in his tracks and peeling the drunk’s dirty fingers from your arm as he protectively moves you behind him.

“That’s enough. The lady said she ain’t for you.” Arthur steps menacingly toward the man, fists balled and his arm pulls back ready to launch, but he stops short when you place your hand on his forearm as a reminder that you are not supposed to be causing a ruckus while in town. The feeling of your fingers on his skin instantly grounds him, distracting Arthur from the sinister thoughts rolling around in his head.

Reluctantly, Arthur tries his best to calm down before he does something that he’ll regret. “Now you best leave it at that and walk away,” Arthur says, taking a breath.

“She belongs to you?!” the man sneers out as if in surprise.

“She don’t belong to no one, least of all you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, this doesn’t concern you, then. This is between me and the lady.” He waves his hand at you. “So you be the one leave it.”

Arthur takes a deep breath in, Hosea’s warning echoing in his head. “Right now, I need to see the back of your head getting smaller and smaller. Keep in mind that I can make that happen several ways.”

“Arthur, don’t,” you warn. “Don’t waste your time on this stupid fool.” You tug gently on his arm, hoping he will come back to the table with you without incident.

The drunk looks indignantly at you. “Who you callin’ a stupid fool, missy?” He keeps his eyes on you as he addresses Arthur. “You better get your little whore there under control,” lifting his chin in your direction. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

That is what lights Arthur’s fuse. “What the hell did you just say to her?” His eyes narrow as he takes another menacing step closer to the man, his shoulders squaring up.

You warily wrap your arm around his waist as another, more pressing physical reminder. “Arthur, you promised.”

“Better listen to the little lady, mister,” the drunk keeps pushing, taunting Arthur even further. “And besides, I’m sure I can take care of her better than you anyway…old man.”

Your eyes widen in shock and the room suddenly goes silent.

“Ah, shit,” John mutters from somewhere behind you. With a sigh, John snuffs out his cigarette and starts to roll up his sleeves. He knows exactly what’s coming next. So much for a relaxing night out.

Arthur’s jaw tightens as his teeth grit painfully together. And yet still, he’s struggling internally not to cross that line. For you.

You are impressed with Arthur’s self-control right now, as he did promise to behave himself tonight. But, you are not going to let anyone talk to Arthur like that.

With a slight nod of acceptance, you lovingly pat Arthur’s chest and carefully withdraw your arm from his waist and take a slow and very pronounced step back from him, effectively releasing your beast upon the saloon.

A menacing smile crosses Arthur’s lips as he realizes that like a once-caged animal, he is now free. The drunk’s face flashes confusion for only a second before Arthur’s fist flies, crashing into his jaw. The man’s body crumples haplessly to the floor, but Arthur is quick to grab him by the collar, landing another crushing blow to his face. And then yet another, causing blood to spatter through the air.

There is a sudden explosion of action all around you. You take several staggering steps backwards out of the way until your back collides with a solid wall of muscle. You gasp in a brief panic. But as you turn, you see that it’s Charles. And he is quick to grab you by the hips and lifts you up to sit on the bar, safely out of the way before heading to Arthur’s side. John is already at the ready, smiling cheekily as he throws punches at anyone that gets into his way.

The saloon quickly erupts into an all-out brawl. Chairs get tossed through the air and tables flip over as angry shouting erupts into the atmosphere. Arthur has already beaten the first idiot senseless and has since taken on two more that ineptly tried to jump him in their friend’s defense.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch Arthur’s bloodied knuckles land into yet another man’s ribs, lifting his body clean off the ground with the force of the blow. The poor man’s face contorts as if he is about to throw-up a lung. But he doesn’t have time to, as Arthur quickly heaves the man up and then slams him flat on his back to the floor, knocking him out cold. But Arthur quickly recovers to deliver an upper-cut punch to another approaching brawler, filling the air with the disgusting, gut-wrenching sound of bone cracking.

You cast a quick glance to the corner to check on the safety of your friends to find Lenny and Sean already in the thick of the fight as well. Karen is standing on a chair, cackling and hollering, encouraging the fight, while Abigail has tucked herself safely into a corner.

“Come on, Arthur! Knock his lights out!” hollers Karen, waving her beer bottle towards the surging mob.

While you are preoccupied with your friends’ safety, you are startled back to the action in front of you when a drunk gets thrown into you, his head landing in your lap. You yelp in surprise as you look down and immediately grab a bottle from behind the bar, smashing it on his head. The man is knocked senseless and drops to the floor at your feet.

After about twenty minutes of chaos, the fight ends just as quickly as it began. Arthur stands in the middle of the room, his chest heaving, with men sprawled out in unconscious heaps at his feet. He looks down at his knuckles, annoyed at the cuts and mess, and spits out a bit of blood from his cut lip onto the floor. He and John exchange a grin, an unspoken check that the other one is okay. Arthur then scans the room for Charles and catches sight of him just as he tosses some dimwit to the floor. Sean and Lenny stand next to each other, congratulating the other on a job well-done. All are accounted for and alive. A few new bruises, but thankfully none are worse for wear.

Finally, Arthur’s eyes search for you. He finds you still perched upon the bar. Your eyes are wide in astonishment and your chest rises and falls to catch your panicked breath. Arthur’s lips draw inward in guilt, realizing that he’s broken his promise to you. Shame begins to take hold of him, beating about within his rib cage like a bird in flight.

You are not blind nor indifferent to Arthur’s violent tendencies, but you are always so taken aback when you see it first-hand. He is always so mindful and careful with you. But with others, not so much. Arthur is one of those people where if he likes you, he loves you. If he hates you, heaven help you. And his sheer strength and volatility is a wondrous thing to behold.

Blood thunders in your ears as you stare at him, dumbfounded. Your heart races. And it beats for Arthur. It would bleed for him, too.

And then Arthur witnesses a most incredible thing happening. A smirk begins to blossom across your lips as you hold his gaze. Instead of turning in repulsion from what he’s done, you cock an eyebrow at him as you silently hold your arms out, reaching for him.

Without a word, Arthur walks through the minefield of bodies, stepping over arms and legs that are bent at odd angles. He sets his bruised hands upon your waist and gently lifts you down until your small feet touch the dusty floor. You smile up at him, lifting your thumb to gently swipe away the bit of blood that stains his bruised face.

“Let’s go,” you whisper to him as you tuck your arm around his. He doesn’t say anything, only gives you a slight smile and nods, leading you towards the door.

And as you make your way through the crowd, you pause to stand over that first drunk, the one that started this whole mess. He is still sprawled out unconscious on the floor in a deep crimson pool of his own blood. You look down with a frown and promptly kick him in the ribs before heading to the doors.

As soon as you get outside, the cold air hits you in the face with an exhilarating jolt. Rushing down the few steps of the saloon, you abruptly spin into Arthur’s chest, reaching up to grab fistfuls of his hair as you pull him down to your lips. You hungrily kiss him, your tongue thrust into his mouth and trying to ignore how the taste of his blood from his busted lip excites you even more. When you pry yourself from his face, your bosom heaving with desire, you lock eyes with him. You have never been so riled up in your life.

“We need to get back to our room. Now.”

It only takes a second for Arthur to register the idea. “Right.” And he snatches your hand up into his, dragging you across the dirt street, your feet skipping to keep up with his long strides.

The moment you enter the hotel lobby, you sprint ahead of him, pulling him up the stairs behind you. The two of you bounce off of the walls of the hallway, knocking into meticulously placed picture frames as arms and hands grasp at each other. Lips desperately try to find and land on a patch of skin, any patch will do, in the process.

Reaching the door to your room, Arthur’s attention momentarily leaves you to fumble with the key to the lock, the last obstacle between you and sweet ecstasy. A childish pout graces your face at the loss of his lips on yours, and you are quick to reach up and latch your own to his neck, teeth grazing his beard-stubbled flesh. The moment your teeth sink into his neck, Arthur almost drops the key, a lustful groan involuntarily crossing his lips. His hips reflexively push you against the door for a moment, grinding in an effort to find the sought-after friction he needs. He tastes salty from working up a sweat during the bar fight. And you’ll be working him into a froth before the night is over, for sure. A mumbled chain of expletives drops from his mouth until he can get his fingers to work properly to fit the key into the lock.

He finally manages to free the heavy wooden door from its confines and barrels through the entryway, dragging you with him. You bumble ungracefully into the room which is still warm with the remnants of a fire burning in the small fireplace.

Your lips remain heatedly locked together as your hands make quick work of the buttons of Arthur’s shirt, roughly shoving the fabric back off his shoulders to expose his tanned skin. Your fingertips are already at the buttons of his pants while he is still fumbling with the strings of your dress, his large fingers unable to handle the small knots. Frustrated, Arthur grabs the seams, about ready to pull the damn thing apart and rip it off you when you abruptly stop, pulling back from him and grabbing his face. His eyes shoot open in surprise.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress, Arthur Morgan!” You snap sharply “You already owe me a new dress from the last one you ripped.”

He gives you a frustrated snort, like a bull about to charge, and a scowl of impatience on his handsome face.

A sultry smirk of empathy quickly floats along your face. With your hands placed on his chest, you push Arthur backwards, nibbling on his lips as you do, until his legs touch the edge of the bed. You sweep your foot against his, making him lose his balance as you aggressively push him over. His hat tumbles to the floor as his hands thread behind his head to watch you.

You step back and begin to untie the strings of your dress. You accentuate your movements as the ties become undone and you pull the fabric from your shoulders. You shake your hips a little with a dance as the rest of the dress falls from your supple hips to gather on the floor. Unable to look away from your little show, Arthur draws his hand over his mouth in anticipation. He is literally salivating at the idea of you.

Within moments you are bare as the day you were born and on display for him to take in the view. You pull at the pins holding your hair up and the thick waves tumble down around your graceful shoulders, the tips of the curls dancing across the smooth skin of your breasts. Arthur’s whole body actually shudders, making you smile at the control you have right now.

You stealthily climb over him like a cat stalking its prey, leaving kisses along his abdomen as you crawl along his muscled body. When he runs the back of his knuckles across your cheek, you take a hold of his hand, pausing briefly to assess the damage before placing your delicate lips to the cuts and bruises. You look into his eyes, beholding him with such love and affection.

“Now that you’ve seen what I really am, do you think you'll still keep lovin’ me?” Arthur asks. His question is said both in jest and in earnest.

“I’ve always known what you are, Arthur. I just didn’t realize that you were this beautiful.”

Tears would flood his eyes if he had the time to process what you’ve said. But you quickly pounce before his mind can spiral on you as you place one more heated and deep kiss on his mouth, your teeth pulling on his lips, before you backtrack to hover over his pelvis. He is rock-hard at this point, clearly visible under the denim of his jeans. You fish your hand under the fabric to pull out his large and swollen cock. Caressing it in your hand, you give a few quick pumps before your hot mouth envelops him.

Arthur’s eyes never leave you, raptly watching as you work. The sight of you handling him, of your mouth bobbing around his cock, is the most amazing thing to witness. His mouth falls open and his eyes roll back at the sweet pressure of your lips on his most delicate area, a euphoric mixture of pleasure and pain. Arthur flops back onto the bed, arms wobbly and unable to hold himself up anymore. His large hand comes up to grab a fistful of your soft hair, his palm working open and closed in an effort to pace himself.

You hum as your mouth bobs up and down his shaft and the gentle vibration travels through his skin like electricity, causing him to hiss and groan. Giving Arthur a taste of his own medicine, you pull along his cock faster, tightening the muscles of your mouth to squeeze a bit more, making him harder than ever. Your hand then reaches down to cup his testicles, rolling them gently amongst your soft fingers. Arthur’s breathing becomes increasingly sporadic as his mind is pushed to the limit and about to explode.

When you get to the point where you just can’t prolong your own release any longer, you pull his cock from your mouth with one last lick to the underside of his tip. You walk yourself up on your knees until your hips line up with his. With a wanton little whimper, you lower down onto him, his thick cock filling you to the point where he hits the back wall of your cunt. Your chin dips to your chest as your breath gets sucked in at the ever-tight fit. Likewise, Arthur lets out a hissing groan as his hands shoot upward to grip your thighs tightly.

You pause a moment to collect yourself and then slowly lift your lashes to meet his heated gaze. The outlaw sees his own lustful expression staring back at him in your shimmering eyes and his heart skips a beat because of it. A slow hiss from the back of your throat falls from your shaking lips as you take a moment to try to form coherent words.

Finally, you are able to focus long enough to string together only one thought out loud, which comes out in a husky whisper:

“I am going to ride you like a stolen horse, cowboy.”

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#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader smut #photo1030

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luvnami · 2 months

Text

the wind rises - chapter 1 (all i ever wanted)

notes - this is the beginning of a possibly long fic and series. i was highly inspired by some amazing writers (@/peachdues on tumblr and @/vividlyy on ao3), so please check them out as well. more notes at the end

cw - canon compliant universe, blood

word count - 4.4k+

Japan, 1915

Shinazugawa Sanemi once heard that the sakura flower was a metaphor for human life – breathtakingly beautiful, but equally fragile and transient. The pale flowers only bloomed for fourteen days a year, heralding the start of spring. It seemed half right. About the permanence of life, at least.

Sanemi was born into a family that understood peace as a concept. His father often abused his mother, stealing her money to buy more alcohol. Sanemi had started odd jobs around the village for as long as he could remember. Carting goods, chopping wood, serving dishes at the soba restaurant down the road. His palms had turned rough and calloused before he was even ten years old.

Sanemi didn’t resent the life he lived. After all, that was how he was raised and all he had ever known. He carried out his duties as the oldest brother of seven siblings in the Shinazugawa household before he even understood them. When it was daybreak, he would cook rice for the family’s breakfast and head out to deliver letters. When the sun burned its hottest in the afternoon, there were cold bowls of noodles waiting to be dished out to patrons. And after a long day of work, work, and more work, he’d prepare dinner, keep the laundry, set out the futons, and tuck his siblings into bed.

Genya, the second oldest, tried his best to keep up with Sanemi. The one thing he despised most was to be a burden, yet it seemed unavoidable all the same. If he got into a fight with the other village kids, Sanemi would be there to appease them. When he broke a bowl and his father started punching him in places it hurt the most, his mother protected Genya with her own body.

Genya would toddle after Sanemi’s in his footsteps, doing similar work and helping out at home, though it often felt that Genya never quite measured up to the same standard that he held Sanemi to. He was perfect in Genya’s eyes. He wasn’t as clumsy, twice as hardworking, never complained, and was kinder than anyone else in the world. Sanemi rarely smiled. But when he did, Genya saw their mother’s gentleness shine from his eyes.

So Genya kept doing what he did best – living in his brother’s shadow. After all, once their father had died, it was their job as the oldest males in the family to represent and protect the rest. The least he could do was to support Sanemi with all his might and keep their promise.

“The two of us must protect the family, now that dad is dead.”

It was a cool autumn evening, just a few short months ago when Sanemi had said that. The brothers were towing cargo in exchange for rice. The streets bustled with housekeepers running the last of their errands for the day, and people heading to the communal bathhouse.

“It’s a relief that he’s gone now, but everyone will be hopeless without a father figure. We’ll protect mom and everyone else, alright? Not just from now on, but just like we always have.”

Genya had been surprised at the maturity that came from Sanemi. He wondered back then, though his shoulders ached at the weight of the goods he carried, if those words were appropriate of a young boy that had barely reached the cusp of adolescence, thrust too early into a life of responsibility. There was some sort of inferiority that muddled his feelings, but a sense of respect at the same time.

Genya found himself incapable of replying to his brother. All he could do was nod dumbly, and Sanemi smiled that precious smile of his.

Although the Shinzuagawa family had seven children, you were perhaps their eighth sibling. You were no stranger to them, living a few houses down from their own. You were an only child of the couple that owned the soba restaurant Sanemi regularly helped out at. You obviously didn’t remember it too well, but your mother mentioned that she would take care of you and the Shinazugawa brothers while their mother was at work.

You, Sanemi and Genya grew up in the restaurant, chasing each other around tables and bothering your father to no end for more snacks. Your earliest memories were of Sanemi tripping over his own feet and tumbling to the ground. Tears had spilled down his round cheeks as you tried to comfort him, though to no avail as he sobbed and sobbed. He earned a little scar on his right knee, an oddly shaped thing smoother than the rest of the surrounding skin.

While Sanemi grew out of it, Genya was naturally quite a sensitive boy. He had always been one to cry easily: whether he had bumped against the corner of a table a little too roughly, or even if Sanemi wandered away into another part of the restaurant by himself. Genya would chase his older brother down, struggling to keep up as he urged his chubby little toddler legs to move faster, only to realise he couldn’t keep up and cry anyways.

The only way Genya would ever stop crying was if Sanemi hugged him tightly, soothing him with mumbles that it would be okay, that Genchan was a big boy, wasn’t he? That Genchan’s okay, Genchan’s all okay…

“Poor boy,” your mother had once muttered. “Such a broken family, but Sanemi tries his best.”

Broken? You knew that Sanemi failed to think of his family as such. Though his blood father was certainly abusive, the Shinazugawas loved each other dearly. His father was more of a separate entity from the term ‘family’; a man who happened to live under the same roof.

Regardless, you admired Sanemi. You liked the grin he would flash you when no one else was looking, and the way he gave you the larger piece of mochi when your mother gave you snacks to share. He worked harder than anyone else you knew just to make sure his brothers and sisters had enough to eat.

“Micchan,” you whispered, prodding his back with your finger.

“Hmm?”

Sanemi looked over his shoulder at you. He had the prettiest eyes of violet wisteria and hair the colour of snow. From young, you always envied the colour of his eyes, wanting your own to be purple so badly that you ate an incredible amount of purple sweet potato and threw up from it.

Sanemi carried a trayful of empty bowls, trotting over to the back of the restaurant. There was already a bucket full of water and a stack of dirty dishes and utensils ready for him to clean.

“Wanna go for a walk later?”

You followed Sanemi. The dinner rush had begun to die down, and the last few customers had left for the day. Once the dishes were clean, Sanemi was free to go. The boy placed the tray of bowls next to the others and sat down on a rickety stool.

There was still some time before the sun set, where he would have to return home and cook dinner for his siblings. Their mother worked the night shift at an izakaya next to the soba restaurant, so dinner duty usually was Sanemi’s responsibility. Maybe he could squeeze in a short walk. The sakura trees had started to bud; they would be pretty in the evening light, and Sanemi wanted to see them with you.

“Let’s finish this up first, alright?” he smiled.

“Yay!”

In a fit of childish excitement, you urged Sanemi to wash the dishes quicker. The faster he finished washing them, the sooner it meant you could go on your little adventure together. He laughed as you flicked dirty water at him, elbowing you out of his way.

It took the better part of an hour for the both of you to clear the stack of dishes. But once you were done, you were free at last. You grabbed Sanemi’s hand.

“Let’s go, Micchan!”

Although winter was about to end, the sting of cold air still bit at your exposed face. You raced through the village, straw sandals kicking up dirt on the beaten path. Sanemi yelled at you to slow down as he tried to keep up with your pace. You knew he lacked any aggression in his tone from the light laugh that erupted from him. It was a pleasant, clear sound, like the tinkling of a furin wind chime in the summer wind.

Something in your chest skipped a beat and the air was torn from your lungs.

Your shoulders heaved with each gasp for air when you finally made it to the edge of the village, where the largest sakura tree was. A few smaller trees had been planted around them in recent years, but had yet to grow to the same size as the oldest one. It was about thirty shaku in height, with a trunk so wide you could hardly imagine your arms wrapping around it fully.

A thick shimenawa made of rice straw encircled the tree, paper shide attached to it. Your father had once said that the tree was home to a great spirit and the villagers took very special care of it. They would often come and pray to the tree for good luck. Its branches were heavily laden with pink and white flowers. A faintly sweet scent wafted through the air, and you found yourself craning your neck to get a good look at the flowers.

Sanemi stood a short distance away from you. His eyes widened at the spectacular sight, the tree larger than he had ever remembered. It was as if he was an ant, and the tree before him was a tall, tall wall. Sanemi’s breath was stuck in his throat. There was some sort of overwhelming emotion that washed over him like a crashing wave. In the setting sun, the flowers seemed to glow mystically in shades of orange and red, and you seemed so small and frail in comparison to the towering tree.

Sanemi felt something burning in his chest. It was as if someone had placed a piece of charcoal in his ribcage, smoking his lungs out and searing his flesh.

“It’s huge!” you cried out.

Sanemi nodded, silent. He struggled to find any words at all as that emotion continued to oppress him, staggering his ability to form a single coherent thought.

A petal fell from the tree. It drifted, floating this way and that as the wind tickled its softness. Sanemi’s eyes followed its indistinct descent. It spun and spun and spun, oblivious to his stare, finally coming to a gentle rest atop your shoulder.

The knots loosened themselves and water gushed like a rushing stream. The heaviness in Sanemi’s chest disappeared in an instant and he took a sudden, deep breath. Everything fell still for that one split second. Then his feet moved five steps closer to you, crossing the distance, and the tips of his fingers brushed the petal off your shoulder.

The world was bathed in gold.

Sanemi tried not to think too much about the sakura tree that night. Despite his best efforts, the scene of the petal replayed again and again in his mind. It was something that seemed to lack any real meaning, and he was confused as to why he seemed to be so struck by it. Sanemi turned over in his futon for the nth time that night.

The house was quiet, save for the occasional snore from one of his siblings. Sanemi’s eyes opened in the darkness. He briefly saw nothing, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the low light, the outlines of the ceiling beams and hanging lantern were more apparent.

His mother was not home yet.

It was late, though Sanemi was not sure how late. Their mother was usually home a handful of hours after the younger ones had been ushered into their futons, and Sanemi had been ruminating on that heavy feeling in his chest and stupid sakura petal for far too long. Something was off.

There was a rustle near him. Sanemi turned his head, and Genya sat up in the dark room. Perhaps he, too, found the absence of their mother strange.

“Genya?” Sanemi called out softly.

His younger brother jumped, then turned to look at Sanemi.

“Aniki?”

“You’re worried about mom, right?”

Genya felt his face flush warmly. He was glad for the darkness that concealed the redness that spread across his cheeks in blotches. He nodded firmly.

“I’ll go out and look for her,” Genya said.

Sanemi pushed the covers to his feet and sat up.

“No, I’ll go.”

“But-”

“We promised, remember? That we’ll take care of the house? I’ll go, you keep watch over the others.”

Genya paused, then smiled bashfully. Truth be told, he was awfully scared of the dark, and there was a sort of relief that tucked away his fears when Sanemi said that. Genya knew it was a childish fear. He would never be a proper man if he was scared, but for that moment, Sanemi had offered to go in his stead because Genya was his younger brother, and Genya let his capable older brother protect him once more.

Genya watched as Sanemi grabbed his haori, pulling it over his arms. The shoji door opened quietly, then closed without a sound.

Perhaps Sanemi was obligated to protect Genya because he was older. But who would protect Sanemi? Their father had been rather useless in that regard, and their mother was doing her best to raise the other five young ones. In fact, Genya often felt that she relied on Sanemi too much, but who else could she depend on either? It was an endless cycle of defeat in every way Genya looked at it.

“Nii-chan?”

Genya turned towards the sound. His siblings all peeked out of their futons, rubbing their eyes sleepily. The youngest one, Sumi, yawned as she crawled over to Genya.

“Are you all worried about mom too?”

They nodded in unison.

“It’s alright, Sanemi went to look for her. They’ll both be home soon, so let’s just rest and wait,” Genya assured.

Sumi sat herself in her older brother’s lap and buried her face in his chest. Genya stroked her soft hair gently, lulling her back to sleep.

Meanwhile, Sanemi stalked the streets. He took the familiar path to the izakaya, one that he had walked countless of times. The air was eerily still. All Sanemi had was the faint moonlight to guide his steps, rocks and dirt crunching under his sandals.

It took him a few minutes to reach his destination. No light shone through the shoji doors, though there was still a sign on the outside that signalled that they were open for business.

“Mom?” Sanemi called out. “Are you there?”

There was a soft rustle from within. The hair on the back of Sanemi’s neck prickled uneasily, but he was determined to find his mother. He took a step closer to the doors.

A loud noise, the sound of wooden stools and tableware crashing to the floor, made Sanemi jump. He pulled an outstretched hand back just a dark blur burst out of the izakaya, pouncing on him.

The wind was knocked out of Sanemi instantly. He crashed to the ground with a strangled cry, sharp pain shooting across his face. The thing growled and its hot breath fanned across Sanemi’s face unpleasantly. It reeked with the stench of blood.

Its claws dug into his shoulders in an attempt to pin its prey down, though the creature sniffed Sanemi cautiously before recoiling with an angrier sound. It stood on its two hind legs, swaying from side to side drunkenly. There was only one thought in Sanemi’s mind: that he was dead.

“Hey, who’s making such a ruckus!” someone yelled.

Sanemi turned his head, watching as your father came out of the soba restaurant. No, he wanted to scream. Run!

The thing swivelled its head towards your father. It moved so quickly that Sanemi saw nothing but a dust cloud where it had been in front of him. There was a shout as it clawed his head off his neck. Two thumps resounded through the street in time with Sanemi’s frenzied heartbeat, then- silence. His heart pounded in his chest. He barely had time to recognise what was going on as the creature dove into the restaurant.

You looked up from the counter where you had been wiping dishes dry. Your family had been preparing to open the restaurant for dawn. However, there was a strange noise coming from outside the restaurant, so your father stepped out to see what was happening.

“Mom?”

A shadow tackled your mother to the ground, just across the restaurant from where you were standing. You froze. The stack of dishes she had been carrying to you crashed with her, glazed ceramic shattering into a thousand pieces. She opened her mouth to scream. But all that came out was a gurgle of fresh blood that bubbled from her lips, then her limbs fell limp.

You wanted to move, to do anything else but stand still like a sitting duck. It was if your feet had turned into lead, because no matter how much you willed yourself to run, you stood rooted in the exact same spot.

Sanemi struggled to his feet, gasping as hot blood gushed down the right side of his face. He wiped what he could out of his eyes with the back of his hand. His entire body was shaking terribly, from some sick mix of pain, adrenaline, and fear. Sanemi rushed into the restaurant, ducking his head below broken bamboo and torn shoji.

The creature bit into your mother’s corpse at the junction between her neck and shoulder. It made odd, animalistic noises as it bit and tore at the flesh, fresh blood spilling over its clawed hands. Your mother’s dull eyes gazed at nothing like a dead fish,.

In the dim light that lit up the restaurant, Sanemi realised. No, no, no, no, no. It couldn't be. His stomach dropped endlessly into a pit as bile burnt the back of his throat.

The creature had its black hair pulled back in a neat updo, though strands surrounding its face had fallen loose, framing skin that was paler than moonlight. Its purple eyes were bloodshot. Most important of all, however, was the lilac kimono that it wore. The same exact kimono that Sanemi’s mother wore everyday.

“Mom?”

The demon growled, though not in response to Sanemi. It was nearing dawn and there was no time left to waste. It dropped your mother’s corpse from its hands as if she was spoiled food. She laid on the ground like a forgotten toy, blood pooling around her body. Mouth still dripping with blood, the demon shot out of the restaurant and down the street.

“Micchan?”

Your voice quavered. Tears spilled from your eyes as you turned to look at Sanemi, shoulders shaking when a choked sob finally escaped your lips. You immediately clamped a hand over your mouth. You could not understand what had just happened. Your parents had been alive and laughing with you just a minute ago, and now their bodies were yours to bury.

Sanemi reached out for the cleaver on the table that your father had been using to cut fresh soba noodles. The metal blade had a heavy heft to it, and Sanemi wrapped his fingers firmly around the handle.

“Stay here and hide. I’ll be back for you,” he ordered.

Sanemi took off in the direction where the demon had run. He swung his arms and legs in tandem, sweat beading on his hairline. Despite the pain that stung his face and the confusion that welled inside of his heart, Sanemi kept running. One thing he knew, at the very least, was that the demon was moving towards his home, and that the family he had sworn to protect was in danger.

Genya had barely begun to drift off to sleep when there was the pitter-patter of footsteps outside the front door.

“Mom!” his siblings cried joyously.

They rushed towards the door, arms outstretched to welcome their mother home.

“Wait!” Genya shouted. “That might not be-”

It all happened in slow motion. There was the sound of wood splintering, then the smell of copper. Genya’s siblings flew through the air as they were thrown back from the impact, almost like string puppets. Their small bodies fell back onto the futons with dull thuds. The light in the house was snuffed out and the room was doused in darkness, rendering Genya’s vision useless. A stray piece of wood flew into his face and he recoiled from the pain. Genya threw a hand over his face in shock, the other cradling Sumi into his chest

A dark shadow with shining eyes hung in a corner of the ceiling. The children were silent, their injuries bleeding freely as they lay in a heap. Genya felt an immense dread as he locked eyes with the shadow. He had to make sure the rest were safe, then he had to protect Sumi, then, then- Then what? Call a doctor? Where was Sanemi? Where was their mother?

Genya’s breath came fast and quick. It was a wolf that had come out of hibernation and was hungry for fresh meat – he was sure of it.

Nii-chan.

Genya squeezed his eyes shut. If only Sanemi was here, his brave older brother would certainly know what to do. If only Genya was more like Sanemi. If only Genya could be Sanemi.

“Genya!”

His eyes flung themselves open as the wolf jumped at him with a snarl. But there was no impact at all, as Sanemi threw himself in front of Genya. Sanemi crashed into the side of the house, tumbling out of it with the wolf.

“Genya! Run!”

There was a moment of relief as Genya gasped in shock. His brother had come to save them after all! But Sumi let out a little sigh, then fell limp and cold in Genya’s arms.

“Sumi? Sumi! Shuya! Teiko! Hiroshi! Koto!” his pleas for his siblings were unanswered. “Put pressure on your wounds, I’ll call a doctor right away!”

Genya's hands shakily hovered above the bodies of his siblings as he laid Sumi next to them. His eyes darted nervously around the dim room. The stench of blood made Genya want to vomit, but he knew that he had to do something other than gawk and panic. He stumbled over to the broken front door, grabbing what remained of the doorframe to keep himself upright.

Outside, Sanemi gripped the cleaver in his hand tightly as the demon howled in pain. It scrabbled for purchase on the ground, trying to pull itself upright and fight its prey. Its leg was twisted in a strange way from the impact of the fall. With a strained groan, the demon squirmed and gasped in an attempt to heal its broken limb.

Sanemi squared his shoulders. He grasped the cleaver till his knuckles turned white, yet there was a flicker of despair prevented him from finishing the kill.

Sanemi.

His mother’s voice called to him gently. If he thought about it long enough, Sanemi could picture her small hand cupping his cheek, pressing their foreheads together.

Sanemi, you have such beautiful eyes.

Her laugh was gentle, like the tickle of a summer breeze on his hot face.

The demon screeched, a terrible noise that made Sanemi want to drop the cleaver and cover his ears.

Sanemi, you’re the firstborn, so everyone relies on you. I’m sorry.

Sanemi’s throat tightened. The skin of his hands screamed in pain as the cleaver’s handle dug into it uncomfortably, yet he did not let go. Sanemi had to protect the rest of his family. He had to; otherwise he was not a good son or brother. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, until all he saw was the vague afterimage of the demon on the back of his eyelids.

Sanemi gritted his teeth, then brought the hilt of the cleaver down on the demon's head with all his strength.

The demon fell silent.

“Nii-chan?”

Sanemi stood still. He did not respond, open eyes staring blankly at his mother’s body by his feet. Her eyes had fallen shut, and it seemed almost as if she was asleep. The tear in the hem that Sanemi had stitched together a week ago had been ripped open again. Blood stained her kimono in a contrasting scarlet, though Sanemi didn’t want to know whose blood it was. All he wanted was his mother back.

“Mom? Mom!”

Genya ran towards her body, tears bubbling up from his eyes. He fell to his knees as he cradled her in his arms. Her body was oddly heavy, and she did not respond to her son as he screamed and shook her as hard as he could.

“Why did you kill mom! Ah! Mom!” Genya shrieked. “Murderer! Murderer!”

Sanemi’s grip finally faltered and the cleaver clattered next to his feet.

You crept out of the restaurant on pure instinct. Although Sanemi had said that he would come back for you, something tugged at you to look for him and Genya. The sun had just begun to rise over the horizon. Its golden rays began to creep upon the land, and the cry of a rooster rang across the village. You hurried along the path as panic rose in you when you heard Genya’s wails. You finally saw the Shinazugawa brothers, one on his knees and the other standing, both bathed in swaths of burning orange light.

Sanemi’s stare met yours. Tears finally fell from his wide eyes, hot and fast. The light of day shone bright and white, and he momentarily wondered why the sun had lost its colour. There were no words for him to explain his sin. His mouth fell open without a single sound, wishing for something, for someone to help him.

Genya’s cries continued to ring out as the village began to wake from their slumber.

Some sort of sense must have finally returned to Sanemi. He jolted violently, as if someone had shoved him in the chest. He blinked once, then twice, then turned on Genya and sprinted away.

You watched his figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance till he became no smaller than an ant, melting into the sunlight.

notes - for more context to this chapter, please read demon slayer light novel 2 (one-winged butterfly), chapter 4. action scenes aren't my strongest point, so hopefully this chapter wasn't too much of a drag >< i would really appreciate any comments/tags on the fic, they're really motivating and i know this fic will be a huge challenge for me (after not writing for about 2 years). i'm still contemplating on how to continue the next chapter and the rest of the fic, so please look out for more updates!!

#shinazugawa sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi x reader #shinazugawa genya #shinazugawa brothers #kny sanemi #kny genya #shinazugawa sanemi fanfic #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kny angst #shinazugawa sanemi angst #sanemi angst #shinazugawa angst #shinazugawa fanfic #sanemi fanfic

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legendofmorons · 7 months

Text

How to fall in love twice part 7

Pairing: Malon x Time x reader

Rating: G

Summary: While you and Malon go on an unofficial coffee date, Time finally has some sense knocked into him thanks to Wild, Warriors, and Legend.

Warnings: N/A

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

The third day in modern Hyrule begins with the delightful experience of introducing Malon to modern coffee shops. Which is certainly worth it.

However, first, you get a nice shower. With your hair routine, proper soap, any shaving you might choose, and the ability to have hot water. It's glorious, and you are thankful for running water.

Malon takes a shower as well, still confused about modern shower products, but delighted in the effects! She likes that there are so many options. She also adores the hot water since she doesn't have to heat it herself.

Malon has delighted in modern clothes, a sage colored cable knit sweater, and dark jeans are her chosen outfit today.

How the fuck is she so pretty all the time? It should be illegal.

You need to focus on the things going on. Not on how pretty Malon is.

You also need to introduce her to milkshakes. You think she'd like them. But that's for later.

For now, you focus on getting your wallet, keys, and any other items you need for a city outing. You glance at the deity mask sticking our of your bag.

You find both comfort and worry in the presence. The mask has the markings that Time bears. And yet it feels unlike him at all.

You shake your head to dispel the thoughts. There's no use dwelling on those things.

Your time is much better spent on other things. Like kicking ass or spoiling the gorgeous red head you're with.

You lead Malon into the local coffeeshop midmorning. The crowd is not dense, but there's quite a few people there anyway.

Mostly, it's college students who take residence in the establishment.

You both look over the menu, and once you've explained the new drink concepts to her, you both step up to order.

"Welcome to Cuthulu brews. What can I get started for you?" The barista at the counter asks with a smile. Their eyes look dead, though. Classic customer service jobs, sucking the life out of people.

"Can I get a mocha but like - not taste the coffee?" Malon asks.

"Uh- maybe?"

"Why don't you get a shot of espresso in you hot chocolate." You suggest lightly.

"I can do that?"

"Sure, you want hot chocolate with one shot?"

"Yes, please."

"What size?"

Malon looks to you, unsure but excited.

"Large, please." You decide, that'll be more chocolate to hide the coffee taste in.

And really, you think you both deserve nice things after the hell you've been through lately.

You don't know what you'd do without Malon. Ignoring your feelings for her she's still been such a help and pillar of support.

"Awesome, can do. And for you?" The barista turns their attention to you.

You order your drink, along with two breakfast pasteries. You want to make sure you and Malon are both eating well enough.

You pay and leave a tip.

While you and Malon wait for your order, she seems to be buzzing with excitement.

"You're more chipper today, good dreams or something?" You ask with a smile.

The smile she turns on you is dazzling, "Sort of. I'm just glad I'm with you mostly."

"Oh, that's sweet. I'm glad I'm with you too, Mal." You smile and then feel silly using the nickname you've only heard her husband use. "Sorry, uh, the nickname is probably weird."

Malon just shakes her head, "Not really! I like hearing you call me that."

"Oh. Okay." You smile, trying not to read into any of this.

But over the time spent with Malon- your crush has definitely become bigger. And you are a lot closer to in love than you should be.

After collecting your drinks and breakfast, Malon leads you to a window table to sit at. Her mood is the highest it's been in a while.

It's good to see her happy.

"You said you wanted to show me something called - a wifey?"

You nearly choke. "WiFi. Wifey is something different."

Malon laughs, but she looks like she said the wrong thing on purpose. But that's got to be wrong.

(It's not wrong. She's teasing you.)

"You're probably right." She says before taking a sip of her drink.

You just resign yourself to a few bites of breakfast pastry. You need a moment. Just to get your mind up and running again.

"So, if we're in your time, don't you have someone to check in with?" Malon asks as she looks you over.

She does that a lot. Why's she always looking you up and down? She's not checking you out. That's just silly.

(She is checking you out. And she thinks it's rude you keep trying to stop yourself from returning the attention.)

"Not really. I'll be gone again soon so it'd just upset them." You say simply.

Because really the longest you've stayed in any time is a week since you got pulled away from the chain. So why bother upsetting people?

"I guess. But I'd want to hear from you."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're sweet to me."

Malon makes a face, as if amused and exasperated. She does that a lot when you try to wave off her compliments.

"(Y/n), sweetie, you're a lot better than you give yourself credit for."

"Oh. Uh- thanks."

She just smiles, and sets a hand on your hand. "I mean it. You're going to make whoever you end up with very happy ome day."

She has a weird tone, and you almost think she wishes she was who you end up with. But that's ridiculous and probably not right.

"Thank you."

-------

Time is having a very bad time. Since he saw you and Malon, he's been torn up inside.

On one hand, you're both alive!

On the other hand, you're still who knows where facing threats he can't protect you from.

What a great time.

"You need to eat." Wild says as he pushes the shepard's pie into the old man's hands.

Time looks at him, blinking. Right. Food. He does need sustenance.

"Thank you." Time manages.

Wild just sighs, shaking his head. "You're disrespecting both of them by thinking they're gone."

"I don't - I don't think they're gone... I just think I'll never see them again."

Wild just levels a stern look at Time. He's not paid enough for this. He isn't paid at all, actually.

He will have to talk to Hylia about labor laws. She needs to hear from his union.

First, he needs a union, actually. He'll have to ask Legend for help there.

"What?" Time manages with a strangled edge.

"You're being entirely too pessimistic. Everyone thinks we'll see them again. Even Legend. So are you going to snap out of it?"

Time blinks again, confused and unsure if he should be offended. He's just being realistic!

Right?

"Don't give me that realistic spiel. Stop making things out worse than they are."

"I'm not!"

"We saw them three days ago. They were alive without any immediately fatal injuries, and they were both standing on their own. So unless they've started throwing the same pity party you are, they're fine."

"I'm not throwing a pity party."

"Call it what you want, but you're being too seal-ious."

"You did not just make that pun."

Wild just grins. There is nothing like puns to make people listen to you.

"Is he done making the worst assumptions?" Warriors asks as he makes his way over.

"I don't know. Time?" Wild turns expectantly to the old man.

Time just sighs. "Yes. We need a plan."

"We have a plan." Warriors says, as if it should be obvious.

"Since when?"

"An hour after we saw them. Some of us have been getting shit done." Legend adds helpfully.

"Legend." Warriors sighs. Though he dosen’t seem too far away from the sentiment.

"You didn't tell me?" Time asks, sounding genuinely upset.

"The only people who can pull you out of your spirals consistently are the reason you're spiraling. We tried." Pegend tolls his eyes.

"You're not the only one who misses then, Time." Warriors sits beside Time gently. "You may know Malon the best, but we all like her."

"And we all love (Y/n). Not the way you do, but they're one of us." Wild says firmly, "Twilight is barely keeping it together. You know he hates losing loved ones to portals."

Oh.

Time realizes he's really been disconnected. Of course, everyone else misses you and Malon.

He didn't even think about how the others might feel.

Shit.

"I'm sorry." Time says as he looks between his three companions. "I haven't- been present latley."

"We'll forgive you, this time." Wild gives a little grin, "Just don't get lost in your gear again."

"Deal."

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu time x reader #lu malon x lu time #lu malon x reader #time x malon x reader #htfilt #fluff

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parvulous-writings · 6 months

Text

Untimely Reunion // Astarion x Elf! Reader

Summary: A reunion at a very unsavoury time.

Warnings: Mild mentions of grief/mourning

Words: 2.5K

Notes: Before anyone says anything. Yes. There will be a part 2.... At some point! Did kind of run out of muse for this partway through, but I pushed through!! Hope you all enjoy <3 My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too! If you’d like to support me more, consider donating to my kofi! I’d appreciate it loads!!

Things were different, when you were younger - vastly different, from the situation you found yourself in now. You had grown up in Baldur's Gate - a city bustling with life, noise, and so much more besides. Your childhood was a rather happy one - a loving family, a good few friends, and all a child could ever want. Naturally, you had a tiny rebellious streak - but what child doesn't? Your rebellious streak had led down a much more appeasing path than one might have thought, though. You made a friend through it. Another elf, like yourself, by the name of Astarion. The two of you became fast friends - you thoroughly enjoyed his company and various quips he'd come up with. He enjoyed the more quiet, light hearted jokes you'd make. A slightly unlikely pair, the two of you, but an inseparable one nonetheless.

You spent the nearly the entirety of your youth together. Astarion went into Law studies, eventually becoming a Magistrate - and a damn good one, at that. He may not have been the most liked Magistrate in the city, but he was fair, for the most part. You, in turn, went into politics, becoming equally renowned for your prowess of speech. You were well respected, to say the least, to the point that there was a very large crowd who would follow you almost blindly when you made a suggestion for the city. The friendship between you and Astarion was very much a benefit, for both of you; Astarion could help you from time to time with the Legalese of your political rivals, and you kept him up to date with every single law that was freshly passed, typically on the day it was passed; a privilege that very few magistrates had, as most were brought into the loop within the next day or so. Word could travel slow within the world of law, at times.

You had this somewhat unspoken agreement between you for several years. The pair of you liked it that way - although you had your fair share of naysayers, saying how it was 'unfair' or 'too below board', the pair of you ignored it for the most part. It wasn't like the two of you were taking bribes from outer sources to change things, or to let things slide. Or, at least, you thought so.

One morning, you had expected a letter from the Elven Magistrate - a reply to a question (or, rather, several) you had sent him about some scripture a few days prior. But it never arrived, no matter how many times you checked, or pestered the one carrying the post. It didn't come the next day, either. Or the next. Or even the next. You tried not to worry about it, there were some points where Astarion was just too swamped with various cases to reply to your missives; as important as you were, he did put his job before most else. So you decided to wait.

After a week had passed, you had become truly concerned - this was more than just unusual, this was downright worrying. Astarion had never gone that long without contacting you - not even when the pair of you had had disagreements in the past. Though he was certainly a fickle creature, he had never been this bad. So, you took it upon yourself to give his household a personal visit. The journey there was much quicker for you than most would have assumed; being someone of such importance and high standing in Baldur's Gate made people very eager to be out of your way, rather than obstructing it. But when you arrived, there was no cordial greeting from the elf, nor even a flicker of a drape. For all intents and purposes, it looked almost as if there were no one home - besides, of course, the obvious care that the few servants he had employed had paid to the small estate and it's accompanying garden. As you briskly approach the door, and raise your hand to knock, a rather nervous looking gardener cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Apol.. Apologies, Laird.." He stumbled over his words as he addressed you, and clearly couldn't bring himself to meet your eye. "His worship isn't here at the present time..." "That much is obvious." You replied, sharply. "I'm sure his Steward would be happy to let him know that I paid a visit, would he not?" "... Stefan is also, not here right now... He's.. He's with the constabulary..." Your blood ran cold at this. The constabulary? Why in the hells would the steward be there? This could only mean trouble. Your glare, focused on the gardener, urges him to continue. "H-he's been there since this morning - his worship is, um.." He trails off, his voice audibly wobbling as he does. "His worship is what?" You ask through gritted teeth, taking a slow, but meaningful step towards him. "Missing- ... His worship is missing, your grace..." The gardener was trying to hide his nerves and failing spectacularly. Some things start to click into place inside your mind. "For how long?" You ask, your volume dropping. "Just over a week, your grace..." That's why he hadn't responded to your letters.

You lapsed into silence, as the gardener hurriedly explained to you all that he could recall about the situation; the morning that he had disappeared was like every other morning. He got up for breakfast, and made some idle chatter about what he was expecting for that day. The gardener scrambled to list a few of the things that his employer had mentioned - there were three cases of petty thievery, mostly concerning Gur and others that lived outside of the main city walls, that had been blown out of proportion, a property dispute, and a few cases of various assaults that had made it to court. To your knowledge, there was nothing out of the ordinary at all. Not to mention, the gardener didn't mention any unusual behaviour from the elf. Not that he would notice it anyway, to be fair to him, but at least he was trying to be helpful. A curt farewell to the fellow followed, and you were quick to leave - even quicker were you to call for an investigation into Astarion's disappearance following the Steward's report to the Flaming Fist. The search went on for near four months - you refused to let the Fist simply file this as a cold case. It was a perk, you seem to recall being told by another friend of yours, of being in the public eye so much, and being in such good standing. The Flaming Fist simply couldn't afford to displease you on this matter, lest you speak out and entirely tarnish their reputation as a law-force. But, eventually, both you and them had to admit that there was nothing more you could do - Astarion was gone, and there was absolutely no sign of him.

Naturally, you began to mourn. Your childhood friend, just... Gone. Of course, you didn't know if he was dead, but he might as well have been. It felt strange in your day to day life, catching yourself thinking about the next time the two of you would have afternoon tea, or exchange letters, only to have to remind yourself that those pass-times would be no more. As your grief deepened over the next few months, you started to accept the fact that maybe he was dead. Astarion - as wonderful a magistrate as he was - wasn't always the best at staying on people's good sides. But he was so young, for our kind. You'd think to yourself. The more thought you gave it, the more it tragic it became to you. Your childhood best friend, your closest confidant, gone before even his 50th birthday. But, time moved forward, and eventually you did too - never entirely forgetting the man, but beginning to think about him less and less. What was the use in dwelling on things that couldn't be changed? You thought about him from time to time, but came to accept that whatever had happened to him, he wasn't coming back to the city, if he was even still alive.

That was, until you found yourself amidst a mindflayer invasion. You had heard whispers, of course - who hadn't? But to see one of your fellow politicians warp, mutate, and change before your eyes... It was horrid. Nauseating. Thankfully, some deep-rooted need for survival took hold of you, and you broke into a run, trying to flee the creature before it could get it's newly-formed tentacles wrapped around your head. Scampering out into the street, you saw that you were not the only one who had been ambushed by someone suddenly undergoing ceremorphosis. The streets were in chaos - you could hardy even dwell on what had become of the city before you were on the run again, sprinting down various alleyways in an attempt to flee the hundreds of mindflayers amongst the populous. When your legs grow sore, and your lungs short of breath, you wearily come to a stop. Your hands rest on your thighs as you try in vain to recover from your sprint. You were so wrapped up in trying to figure out what in the hells was going on, that you don't hear the wet, smacking sound of a mindflayer trailing up behind you.

"Look out, you fool!" Was all you heard before being pushed to the ground - out of the way of the horrid purple creature that had nearly caught you by surprise. You didn't really get a good look at your saviour to begin with; his face was obscured by the sun. All you could make out was the tips of his pointed ears, and how some of his curls had nestled around them. You paused, watching as the figure made sure the illithid was dead with a flurry of blows from his dagger. "Gods, are all of you city dwellers this blind?" He scoffed, with a 'holier-than-thou' tone. It was one you felt was... Oddly familiar. No, more... You knew that voice. Your brows furrow, as you slowly push yourself to your feet to come eye-to-eye with the man who saved you. Red eyes glare back at you - piercing and, in a way... Keen. "Well?" The man says, impatiently. There's a rather... Upper City edge to his accent, making it all the more familiar. "... No. We're not." You reply, almost deadpan. "But... Thank you." You reply, trying to show at least some decorum. Your saviour pauses, something in his eyes... Shifting. He seemed almost shocked, but he was quick to recover. "Well, make sure it doesn't happen again." He seems quite smarmy - a small smirk gracing his features, making his eyes crinkle. "I can't go around saving everyone, you know..."

And then it clicks. You know where you've seen that face before.

"Astarion?" Your voice is quiet, unsure. Part of you can hardly believe - or maybe, doesn't want to believe - that Astarion is standing in front of you. He looks different, now. His hair is white, even paler than what it used to be, but it still curls around his ears just the same. His eyes are a deep red, and as he starts to practically sneer at you, you can just about make out the fangs that now reside in his mouth. "Is.. Is that really you?" You mumble, just barely managing to stop yourself from reaching out to him. Astarion stares at you for a few moments longer, before the sneer that had put itself upon his lips melted away, replaced with something much, much softer - something almost mourning. Something in your chest begins to ache, and you realise you had begun to cry as you feel wet tears trail down your cheeks. The elf just seems stunned. "Gods, it's been centuries-" You take a step towards him as you speak, and he takes an instinctive step backwards. "It... Has.." He says, slowly. He seems quite unsure of himself - caught off guard, even, by your presence. "You... Look well." He tells you. This isn't quite the Astarion you remember, he's much more reserved now. Or perhaps he's just nervous. "You look... Different." You echo back to him, and you see him visibly swallow. That must be a sore spot for him. He opens his mouth to speak, then sighs. "It's... A long story." He tried to avoid your gaze, and you could remember him well enough to know not to pry- especially now that you were pressed for time. He glances over his shoulder as something booms off in the distance. He curses under his breath, before turning back to you. "... How about this? We can be all sappy after this world-ending crisis is stopped... If we both survive." He says to you, and you slowly nod in agreement. Standing here for too long could get the both of you killed. "When this is over.." He continues, "I will meet with you... Say... One of our old haunts - the tavern, near where you used to live... And I will tell as much as I can..." He offered you a smile as he spoke, and you could see those sharpened teeth of his more clearly. Something wasn't just different about him, something was wrong - but, for the most part, he still seemed to act like the Astarion you used to know. You consider it for a moment - what could go wrong, should you both survive? - Before nodding softly. "It's a deal... I shall wait for you." You tell him, pushing down the myriad of growing questions that you had for him. How was he still alive? Where had he been? Why did he look so... Different? He gives a slight chuckle - you hadn't changed much at all, in his eyes. You were still that same sly, snarky politician he had known in those centuries past. He gave a rather playful bow to you, falling back into his old ways. "I shall try not to keep you waiting for too long.." You could hear the smirk on his lips as he spoke, before he rose to his full height again, his expression falling. "Now, go - find somewhere safe... And do try not to let anymore Mindflayers sneak up on you, I won't be able to help with those ones..." He murmurs. "I am, unfortunately, needed elsewhere..." He tells you, starting to march forward, dagger still in hand. You start to call out to him, but you're hardly through the first word of your sentence when Astarion calls over his shoulder to you. "Just go!" You have few other options but to do as he says, ducking into another alley and taking refuge in a partially destroyed home. You hoped to remain at least somewhat safe, here... You'd have your thoughts and theories on the other Elf to keep you company, at least. You clasped your hands together as you sunk to the floor to remain out of sight to anyone who may peer inside the building, quietly praying, to any God that may listen to one measly mortal, that the pair of you may live through this.

At least, until you saw him again.

#requests open #x reader requests #x reader oneshot #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #romance #astarion x reader #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion

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jillsandwhichs · 3 months

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Our Future Day's

Joel Miller x Reader series , Chap 1 , Move in day

Masterlist

Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You officially move from oregan to texas and get to meet your very new & handsome neighbor, Joel

WC: 3.1k

Type: SFW

Some thing's you need to know before reading: this is a series, not a one shot collection! you (the reader) already have a semi premade backstory. first off, you're originally from oregon. you studied at med school and got a job offer in texas to become a doctor, which you took. you are 23 in this but if you don't like that, imagine any age (18+) and i did make joel younger 26 (until the 20 year time jump, he'll be 46) but he does still have sarah, just pretend it's not wonky LMAO! one more thing, ya have a dog in this fic, he's a boy but imagine any breed you'd like! aside from that, this is tlou game version but i included some sides from the show! a couple more things: 1. all characters from tlou1/2 will be mentioned/featured. 2. this takes place before outbreak, then eventually outbreak day, then eventually in the apocalypse. 3. this is a slow burn romance (drabbles of it in each chapter though, esp when it progresses) and does feature a decent amount of smut. 4. JOEL NEVER DIES!!!

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you matched the beat of the song playing on your cars radio. It was a song by Blake Shelton. You weren't a huge fan of him but he had some classics. It has been such a long day for you. You've been driving for the past two hours, not a single break in between. You just wanted to get to your new home as soon as you could. You could tell your dog, Becker, needed to go potty as well. He'd just have to hold out.

The GPS on your phone stated you were only about ten minutes away. The center of Austin TX was busy as all hell, so that time span could get longer by the second. So many cars & people flooded the streets. "God dammit." You mumbled to yourself, rolling your eyes as you seen all the upcoming traffic ahead. This was going to be a long night. You had no clue when you'd even be able to get into bed. Then again, it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, almost evening.

Behind you, in the backseat, you could hear Becker whimpering & whining. "Don't worry boy, we're almost home, just a little bit longer." You cooed to him, reaching your right hand back and allowing him to lick you. You got Becker as a graduation gift a few weeks ago. You two have bonded ever since. You were never a cat person, dog's were more of your style. "You'll be able to go potty soon." You said to him, pulling your hand back up and holding onto the wheel.

Traffic wasn't going as slow as you intended, was traffic always going to be like this though? This ain't going to be pleasant if so. Especially working for the hospital. Imagine an emergency happens and you're needed but the roads are packed, that's going to be one helluva time. But, you wanna think positively. You missed your family too. It's going to be hard without them, especially your mom. She is your number one supporter and without her in the same home as you, it'll be a large change.

You turned the radio up, hearing the country music blast throughout your car but not loud enough to scare your dog. Dogs ears are sensitive and you didn't wanna bother him further than he already was. No doggo wants to be stuck in a car all day, especially in this heat. Despite it being early September, it was still quite warm out. That's another big change from Oregon, you imagine that back home, it's either really windy or heavily raining. The change could be nice though.

The sound of Becker panting was clear as day, it only made you feel more guilty. "Hold on baby." You muttered to him before you then rolled your window down and the window directly behind you, not a lot though, you didn't want him to jump out or something. Through your rearview mirror, you could see his slobbery tounge blowing in the wind as he stuck his head out the window. "Hah, good boy!" You giggled, turning left onto the exit, finally getting off of this miserable highway.

Finally, the road wasn't full anymore. It was a downtown rural area now, cars slowly made their way through the town. Austin is busy, yes, but this side of it, not so much. The only logical reason it was super busy on the highway and earlier roads was because people are getting/going to work. Your first day at the hospital is on Monday. You were nervous but in a great way. You have been non stop thinking about it. All of the work you've put in and you're officially where you wanted to be. Life was going good... For once...

You passed by all sorts of different places. Gas stations, fast food chains, locally owned stores & stands, it felt so honey. Back in Oregon, you lived in the center of the city, it was always so lively and never calm. Austin is like that too but not as bad, and definitely not as bad as Dallas is. You were grateful you didn't end up moving there or even somewhere that was worse. Austin was a good enough fit for you.

The GPS showed you were only a minute or two away from home, your heart was racing a bit. You've never been on your own before and you least expected it to be in a completely different state. Luckily, a week from now, you'll be going back home for the weekend. It'll be comforting. You'll definitely make sure to call your family everyday, you made sure they knew that too. They'd have to simply put up with it.

You could tell you were getting closer due to the change in scenery. There weren't any establishments around these parts, just either compact or extensive suburban homes. You actually used to make fun of those perfect American families who lived in these types of areas but look at you now. Back home, you lived in a small house, only two bedrooms but you were an only child so it was never a problem. You did wish for siblings growing up but you understand now that if you had some, things would be a whole lot different.

As you turned left, the tracker built into your phone made a dinging noise, indicating you had arrived at your destination. It wasn't wrong. Just to the left, you could see your newly purchased home. It made your heart skip a beat. Not only were you nervous but you were also so happy. You glimmered as you pulled right into the driveway and set your car in park. You could tell Becker knew this was your guy's new home, his whimpers weren't ones of boredness but rather excitement. "One second." You sighed out before getting out of the car.

Stepping out of your car, you sighed softly as you breathed in the fresh air. The smell of outside was always so welcoming. You grabbed your purse out of your car too and swung it across your shoulder. It was a brown leather purse with an embroidered strap. You then opened up the backseat so Becker could jump on out. "Stay over here buddy." You chuckled out, scratching the top of his head a few times before closing both doors. You had quite a bit of stuff in your trunk & backseat but you hired a truck to drive all of your other belongings here. It wouldn't be there for another day or so.

Becker ran off to the side of the house to go potty ; You trusted him enough to not run off. He was a good dog. You went to the back of your car and popped open your trunk. It was a mess but everything you needed for the night was in there. You even bought an air mattress, your back would die trying to sleep on a wooden floor. You grabbed the first two boxes, they weren't very big, and set them on the concrete of your driveway. They just had toiletries in them.

You grabbed out another box, this one was a bit bigger than the other two. It had all of your kitchen appliances in it. You were excited to cook your very first dinner in your very own home. You already decided on making Pesto Pasta, one of your favorites. In your trunk, there was the air mattress box. It wasn't going to be the best way to sleep but it'd have to suffice for the night, your proper bed should be in either tomorrow or on Sunday.

Whilst grabbing out the air mattress, you heard the sound of a truck driving past and pulling into the driveway across from you. They must've been your neighbors. Your neighbors back home weren't the nicest. There were the Johnson's so were beyond uppity and thought they were better than everyone else, they lived beside you. Then there was Cassandra and Cody, they were your age and pretty kind except they were literal kleptos.

You ignored the truck behind you, just trying to get everything you needed for the night. You could hear Becker barking but you didn't know what it was he was doing it at. You figured a wild animal, maybe a bunny or a stray. Becker was actually from a shelter, you'd never buy an animal from PetSmart or whatever. "Becker, quit your barking!" You shouted at him, nudging him to come over to you. Maybe he wasn't good with new environments.

You placed the last cardboard box from your trunk on top of another one, shooting your eyes to look at Becker. He was looking at the truck across the street, barking at it. "Oh boy, quit it." You spoke out to him but he didn't listen. You went to grab onto his collar but right as you did, he bolted off into their driveway. He was a friendly dog, you didn't think he'd do anything bad, he was just inquisitive, but it was still bad of him to run off like that.

"Becker!" You yelled, jogging across the street to grab him. You watched as two men got out of the black truck. The one in the driver's seat had a mullet and lighter hair than the other man, he also seemed shorter. The other one though had short dark hair, although you couldn't tell if it was purely brown or black. He was well built, along with the other man. Were they brothers? That's the only assumption that came to mind.

Once you reached their driveway, you grabbed Becker and pulled him back to you. The man getting out of the passenger seat looked back at you and had a puzzled look before letting out a chuckle beneath his breath. "Listen, I'm so sorry, he's just curious." You sighed out. Becker was now listening as he sat down right by your feet. "Sorry, we'll be out of your hair." You giggled, beginning to turn around before you heard the man's voice speak up.

"You just move in across the street?" He asked you, his voice sounded southern and it was very deep. "Oh uhm, yeah, just got here tonight actually." You said kindly, looking back at him again. "Well, welcome then, and to your dog." He snickered out. "I'm Joel, this is Tommy." Joel spoke deeply, pointing over at the other man. You let the two men know your name before asking them whether or not they were brothers, and they were. You weren't surprised, they did share similar facial features.

"Where are you from?" Joel raised, his arms crossed. His arms were huge, he definitely has a nice body. "I'm from Oregon." You said softly, placing your slender hands onto your waist. "Damn, that's a long ways out. What made you move all the way here?" "Got a job offer at the hospital." You said with a titter, his accent was thick. "Oh, you a nurse or something?" He questioned, leaning up against his truck. "No, a doctor. Recently gradated from medschool." You explained, glancing over at his brother as he walked into the house. Maybe they lived together.

"Well how bout that? I'm just a contractor." "That's nice." You added, tucking strands of your thin hair behind your ear. "Yeah, yeah, well I'll let you continue settling in. If you need any help with uh larger furniture, me and my brother can stop by, we helped the Adler's when they first moved in." Joel said with a deep voice, pointing his index to the home beside his. "That would be great, thanks, luckily I don't have to deal with the bullshit of larger furniture today, it'll be in either tomorrow or Sunday."

"Alrighty, well, you have yourself a good evening. See you." Joel said with a sly smirk, slowly inching backwards. "You too, Joel." You gave him a slight smile before patting Becker to follow behind you. You made your way across the street, allowing Becker to run around in his new yard. You took a gander back and seen Joel looked back at you before entering his home. When you saw his eyes on you, you felt a deep pit in your stomach. Nothing bad, rather just glee or something. You couldn't pin it.

Around your neck was a lanyard, it had the key to your home, you assumed it was locked. At least you hoped, you don't want any squatters inside. You unlocked the white door and opened it, stepping inside of it. The sunset beamed in through the windows throughout the house. It was still dark though, every single light was switched on. The seller said you'd have to go to the basement to switch them all on. That sounded like a fun time!

One by one, you dragged each box into the home, keeping some on the floor and placing some on the island counter. You didn't plan on unpacking any of it tonight, you were restless and just wanted to lay down for the night, despite it only being 5 PM. The more sleep you get, the easier it'll be tomorrow. You definitely had to get a lot of sleep Sunday considering on Monday, you start your first day. Even though it's just training, you wanna be as awake as possible.

You ambled towards the front door again and away from the kitchen to call Becker in. He'd have to deal with the floor for the night. He is a cuddly dog, he loves big comfy areas but without a bed or a couch, there's no way. "Becker!" You said with a rowdy voice, "C'mon baby." He came running over to you and past your legs, going into the house and treading around like a mad man. "Oh good boy." You chuckled, petting him gently.

You walked back over to the kitchen and grabbed the air mattress, you needed to get it open and blown up. It was sealed to a T, your nails were definitely not enough to get it open. Striding towards the appliances box, you opened it up and searched through it, taking out a knife to slice it open. You are quite clumsy so you were praying you wouldn't stab the mattress on accident. It didn't help that Becker felt the need to push himself up against you, seeking attention & love as if he's starved from it.

"Back off boy." You snorted, pulling the mattress out of it's box. It was all wrinkled up and looked compact. Although it was the size of a Full. You straightened it out on the living room floor, you didn't feel like carrying it all the way up the stairs. It came with a machine to blow it up and you connected it to the black cylinder hole, turning it on and hearing the loud blowing noise it was making. You didn't have any pillows, they were all packed up in that truck but luckily, you had a blanket, it was the one you let Becker use in the backseat when you were driving.

"You stay here mister." You stated out to Becker before beginning to make your way out of the front door to take the blanket out from the car. As you went outside, you noticed a bright light was on in Joel's house, just in one room though. You could also see the shadow of a smaller person's body walking through said room. Did he have a girlfriend? Or did Tommy have one? Maybe it was Tommy's. You convinced yourself of that at least.

After grabbing the blanket, you walked back inside and seen Becker already making himself a spot on the bed, despite it barley being inflated. "You little shit." You grinned, tossing the fuzzy blanket on top of him. Guess you were going to have to share.

The bed was officially ready to be slept on, you haven't been this excited to sleep in a very long time. Back home, you dreaded it. You would stay up all night, doing different stuff. Whether it was studying, painting, reading, working out, etc.. You were always doing something new. With Becker, it's been better. You're an affectionate person and he is as a dog. It may be a rough night, it always is sleeping somewhere new, but with him it may be easier.

Pulling the machine away from the bed, you turned it off and climbed underneath the blanket, feeling immediate warmth. The Texas heat also played a part in that. Back in Oregon, you had a heater beside your bed to help, you definitely didn't need one here. "Alright." You whispered to yourself, Becker lying right beside your feet, his fur was cozy. You were originally going to turn the lights on to your home but honestly, you were scared to go down there all alone, a pitch black basement? No thanks.

Trying to sleep in a new area was hard. You felt homesick. You miss your old room, the house noises, the feeling of it. You lived there your entire life, now you're thousands of miles away. Becker probably felt that way too, especially with how he connected with your father, they bonded. A week from now though, you'd be able to see them. It'd be easier. Another thing you couldn't stop thinking about was that man - Joel.

He seemed so different. He was kind & understanding, and that's just simply based on the short conversation the two of you had together. He was so willing to help you out, no one else was like that. It was a sweet welcoming. He was also very handsome. All the men back home weren't like that. That glimmer in his eyes wasn't something to ignore. It was the way he gazed at you that had you wrapped around the thought of him.

That brother of his was good looking too, definitely not as much, but either way. Were they both contractors? It appeared as though they had just left work so maybe they work together. And who was that smaller person walking throughout his house earlier? Had to be a girlfriend. A daughter? No way, the two of them looked to young to even have children. There was still a chance though, teen pregnancies aren't uncommon. You presume you'll deal with a lot of them as a Doctor.

Your eyes felt more & more heavy. Becker's deep breathing made you weary too. The pitch blackness of the room was helpful ; White sound would've been helpful too. Sleeping in complete silence was torture. All you could really hear was your dog and your own breathing. You were completely spent for the day. And you were ready to hit the hay.

Divider Creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #reader insert #joel miller fanfiction #slow burn #eventual smut #tlou fanfiction #tumblr fyp

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goferwashere · 7 months

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PUNCH-OUT!! (Wii) MONSTER AU 🗣️💥

FIGHTING FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE IN THIS RING. LETS GO 🔥🔥

It’s a bit long so I added a cut 😭 I spent the past three days on this

THIS IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE BUT OH LORD I FORGOT HOW MUCH FUN MAKING AU’S IS

ALSO PLEASE PLEASE ADD MORE HC’S AND STUFF IF YOU HAVE ANY

Please just assume that just about every monster on this list comes with super strength unless stated otherwise.

Glass Joe:

Human - Monster Hunter/Boxer

- Wants to retire, but knows that without him some of the more unruly and dangerous monsters would dominate the circuit.

- Not everybody knows that *he’s* the infamous monster killer within the WBVA. Some do, but he doesn’t want it to be common knowledge. He needs the edge of “Poor, weak Glass Joe” to get the jump on his opponents.

- He doesn’t kill often, only if things get extremely out of hand. He’s basically the only thing keeping the humans and monsters from starting a full out war in the WVBA.

- Despite his job, He’s friends with a couple of the other boxers. Some knowing that they were monsters, some that he assumed were human and were actually monsters, and some that were just human.

- He doesn’t have anything against monsters, only those who try to take advantage of their power.

- He still trains and goes into the ring, trying to enjoy himself. To be fair, he does still enjoy boxing despite everything else he’s doing. Even if his record does stand at 1-99.

- On that note, his one win wasn’t an accident. He fully intended to win that fight, lacing Nick Bruisers gloves with Garlic so he’d be fighting with his hands essentially on fire.

- Even though he’s got a serious job, he far from a serious guy most of the time. He’s friendly with just about everybody, and tries to be civil with the people who treat him like shit.

- He’s also still clumsy. Almost died a few times as a result.

Von Kaiser:

Vampire - Boxer

- Being turned during his military service, he’s gotten good at hiding the obvious signs. He covers his bite mark and eye bags, and excessively dyes his skin using turmeric. (It fades fast though, leaving his skin looking a healthy colour.)

- Claims he has a garlic allergy, which makes him sad because he quite enjoyed garlic before turning.

- Enjoys the perks of being a vampire, but just can’t seem to keep up with the amount of blood his body demands. So he often twitches and looses focus, being sluggish and tired quite often.

- He enjoys the chase when tracking down his prey. It makes him feel powerful.

- Is 100% on the monster’s side. He believes that they’re superior, and will often be snarky with the human boxers (even if they’re ranked higher than him).

Disco Kid

Human (Possessed by Kid Quick) - Dancer/Boxer

- Disco is being possessed by the ghost of a boxer that was killed during one of his matches (yes that’s his unfinished business)

- Whenever he’s doing anything involving boxing, that’s Quick’s doing, but personality wise that’s always been Disco

- Disco is surprisingly chill with it, always wanting to try boxing but never having patience to train (so Quick does it for him lol)

- His personality leaks into Quicks movements and taunts, since despite liking boxing he’s got ‘no flair’ (As Disco puts it)

- Doesn’t have any super strength, but if they work together they can pull of some nasty combos, with Quick grabbing them and pushing them into Disco’s attacks (Disco isn’t a huge fan of that though, so it’s only really a last resort.)

- He’s honestly nervous when he finds out about the monsters in the WVBA. Quick assures him that they’ll be fine as long as they keep their heads down.

-…Which of course, Disco would never do. So when he gets mixed up in the drama he doesn’t really have anyone to blame but himself.

- He knows that he should *technically* count as a monster, but him and Quick are in support of the humans.

King Hippo

Tulpa - Boxer

- He was created by a little boy who loved boxing, and created him. Giving him a backstory and a cool design. He thought about him so much that he just. Spawned one day.

- The only thing on his mind was boxing, so that’s what he did. He has no idea that he was just a figment of some random kid’s imagination, but I doubt he’d care (or believe it) if he was told. His only goal is to box.

- Not really involved in any of the WVBA human/monster drama. He’s rather quiet outside of the ring.

- Nobody is really clear what he is, but everyone has mutually agreed that he’s not human. No way.

Piston Hondo

Human - Boxer

- Everyone who knows him has a lot of respect for Hondo. He fights fair, and his technique was able to beat actual superhumans (granted, some of those wins may have circumstantial).

- Some of the other boxers are really confused as to how he can keep his ranking, and make speculations as to how he does it, but no one can come up with a solid theory.

- Unless he’s exposed to be a dirty trickster like Ryan, or doped up like Soda, everyone just has to respect the insane effort he puts in.

- Hondo is oblivious to the fact that the WVBA is infested with monsters, and has always thought that international boxing would naturally have more difficult opponents. Nobody knows what would happen if he found out, but nobody wants him give up if he did. Just about everyone (regardless about what side they’re on) will band together to keep Hondo in the dark.

Bear Hugger

Werewolf - Boxer

- He’s more or less happy with being a werewolf. Obviously he’s mad when he has to lock himself up during the full moon, but otherwise he’s chill.

- Essentially a Disney princess with how well he gets along with wildlife. Like. It’s actually insane.

- Thought he’d do well in boxing, so quite literally trained with bears before going to NY. He thinks it’s noisy and polluted, but stays to hopefully bring down the champion and take the belt home to show his friends.

- Cheers on everyone, regardless of what they are. He doesn’t really care about the fate of the WVBA and is just there for a good time.

Great Tiger

Human - Informant/Boxer

- A skilled magic user. He’s been learning since he was a little kid, and the jewel on his turban gives him a good chunk of extra power.

- Uses his tricks to get intel and feed it to Joe.

- He *LOVES* to stir the pot. He knows that he’s safe, and may even stick out his neck for Joe, but will never do anything that’ll put himself in harms way.

- In the same vein he’s always listening to drama. He will gossip like a high schooler, and he knows everything about everyone. He loves being cheeky and keeping other boxers in the dark about what he knows.

- Literally the personification of “🎶I know something that you don’t know~🎵”

- He’s basically on an even playing field, so has no trouble keeping his place in the major league. Honestly, he’s more in it to see how this drama will play out, and who’ll come out on top.

Don Flamenco:

Siren - Matador/Boxer

- He very much using his ability to charm people all the time.

- This includes getting the ref to give him decision wins (even if he doesn’t deserve it), and always to leave a good first impression on just about everyone he meets.

- Yes, sometimes it’s also to pick up ladies (and men? Sometimes? Depends on his mood…) but will never go too far with it.

NOTE: While I think it would be totally in character for him to sleep with them, I don’t want that for him since that’s not consensual. so let’s say that despite seeing humans as lesser he doesn’t want to cross that line. (For his *own* sake of course. The last thing he would do is use tricks to woo “lesser creatures” to bed with him.)

- He’ll whisper under his breath after taunting, convincing the opponent to throw the match. But he’s not great at it, and will sometimes encounter someone who doesn’t have great hearing. He usually loses those matches.

- Wants an all-monster WVBA. He can manipulate just about anybody, and generally sees humans as lesser (Unless they’ve proven to him otherwise, like Joe and Hondo) so he wants them out.

- He’s very charming and friendly, but if you get on his bad side he is NASTY. Like ruin all your relationships and steal yo girl/man nasty. (He keeps all that under wraps though, he can’t have his image be tarnished.)

Aran Ryan:

Human - Boxer

- To everyone’s surprise, he’s actually human. But for all the craziness he projects out in the ring, he’s a smart guy.

- He taunts boxers by trying to get them to hit him because he knows that one wrong move and they’d expose themselves. If they hit him too hard (he figures that one punch would be enough to kill him with their strength) he might die but knows that it’ll be hell to pay for their opponent as well.

- Same with the headbutts, it throws them off their rhythm because they need to react, even if they didn’t feel it.

- That’s why he cheats, because he knows that without it he’d stand no chance.

- But still, you can’t be asking people you know could kill you easily to hit you and be mentally stable. He’s still eccentric about making it as a boxer, this is just an extra challenge to him.

- Has a disdain for monsters, and will do just about anything he can to gain in upper hand in those fights. That flail has gotten him out of a few sticky situations.

Soda Popinski:

Human - Boxer

- He can only compete fairly (at world circuit level at least) because he’s doped up to hell and back.

- Way into the idea of the ‘indomitable human spirit’. He truly believes that human ingenuity can overcome any challenge, and this is no exception.

- He 100% wants to get monsters out of the WVBA. But because he knows that he’s already got a big enough target on his back for cheating he can’t make a big fuss publicly.

Bald Bull:

Minotaur - Boxer

- Nobody’s really sure where he came from, but some people have seen him in his Minotaur form and that’s been enough for the others to accept them onto their side.

- He’s close with a lot of the other monsters, and follows along with their plan to have monsters take over the WVBA circuits. He only does so for them, he doesn’t have a personal agenda.

- This is the first place he’s really felt accepted, so will do what his friends ask of him even if he isn’t entirely on board with it.

- That said, he does belittle the human competitors quite often. To their face and while they aren’t present.

Super Macho Man:

Dragon - Supermodel/Bodybuilder/Boxer

- Got tired of living in a cave, and made it to LA to see what had become of humanity.

- By god, he loved it. He’d chosen a particularly handsome form (even though he didn’t know it at the time) and loved the attention he got from the ladies. He quickly picked up on our customs and had plenty of gold to sell (after years of hoarding it up in a mountain somewhere, he figured that now was the time to use it).

- Always wears enchanted golden jewellery, because the last thing he wants is for his facade to slip. He doesn’t need all of it, but to him it’s a necessary precaution.

- He can breathe fire. He does it often as a party trick, and has even figured out how to change its colour.

- His skin is also very hot to the touch. You’d think he was always just finishing with an intense workout.

Mr. Sandman:

??? - Boxer

- Nobody knows, and nobody is brave enough to ask. He seems to beat monsters with relative ease, so everyone assumes he must be one as well, but nobody can figure him out.

- Everyone wants to keep him out of what’s happening, because he’s a loose canon. Nobody knows who’s side he belongs to and nobody wants to find out they’re his enemy.

PLEASE HELP ADD ONTO THIS IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS BECAUSE IM EXPLODING OVER THIS

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fangirltothefullest · 1 year

Note

hey! i’ve seen you reblog a few posts from proshippers/posts tagged as proship and i just wanted to let you know in case its not on purpose!

I need some of you youngsters to please listen carefully to what I'm about to say because it might open your eyes to a very important concept- when I say ship and let ship I mean I don't give two fucks about what people read in fanfiction because it's all fake. Made up characters in a made up scenario with made up things happening.

Your christian-based concept that thought is equal to action isn't true. You can THINK whatever the hell you want do long as your actions don't cause a problem. A creepy old man can look at a young lady and THINK all the nasty things he wants. So long as he does not take those thoughts and turn them to actions, he's fine. He might want to go see a therapist but at the end of the day thoughts are just thoughts. Standing on the edge of a cliff and thinking "wow if someone pushed someone off this they'd die" doesn't mean you want to push someone off a cliff.

PLEASE separate the concept that thought and action are the same thing.

Even if the topic is a taboo topic, even if it's something you would never in a million years agree with, it's still fake at the end of the day.

I don't personally want to read about canibalism, but its not my job or my right to force other people to never write about that stuff. Policing other people's writing and policing the "goodness" or "badness" of the content they write is not my job and it's not anyone else's. Your morality is yours and yours alone. What you find taboo and never want to think about might just be a weird enjoyable read to someone else. Just like kinks or even random topics, you cannot cater to everyone and trying to force a moral purity in written fiction is just ailly. They're made up. No matter how much you want Azirphale and Crowly to be real no matter how much you are desperate for Percy Jackson to have real feelings, they aren't and he can't. They're not real and they never will be so nothing that happens to them, no matter how fucked up, really matters.

And that's all it is and all they will ever be. A bunch of taboo topics and events done to made up people.

I don't want to read about incest but I'm not going to stop people from writing fanfics about the supernatural brothers doing the nasty. I'm also not going to go out of my way to look for it or tell people to stop because it's all fake. Its not supporting it. It's made up pretend space.

I sit here throwing made up characters into Bad Situations that would be horrible if they were real people. But they're not. They're fake people with fake things happening to them and it's fun to write and fun to read. I torment my characters all the time. I made Virgil go through so much emotional trauma in APP and no one bats an eye because it's fake. Please apply the same critical thinking to the rest of written everything.

Proshipper literally means that a person should have the freedom to write what they want and read what they want because morality has nothing to do with fiction. It does not make you morally a bad person to enjoy a taboo subject in written form. This goes for ALL taboo subjects. People reading greusome murder mysteries don't go out and murder people. The same thing applies to the other taboo subjects. People writing about weird incest ships aren't going to go out and do the incest thing.

If they are it has nothing to do with the fiction and everything to do with that specific person.

Thought and action are not the same thing.

Allowing everyone to write what they want without gatekeeping based on morality is a good thing. We would not have lgbtqia+ stories if the morality policing of Christian values dictated what we are allowed and not allowed to write.

Please understand that I saying all this as a teaching tool. You might be super icked out by certain topics and that's natural and normal and ok. I am too! Everyone is! But what we have to do is be tolerant of the ideas that writing taboo subjects and being a proshipper isnt a bad thing. Also enjoying taboo subjects in written form doesn't make you somehow evil, ok?

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parageist · 2 months

Text

OPENING COMMISSIONS!!

(I know a lot of people in way more destitute scenarios offering commissions, and I am well-off without them, so please consider spending your money on someone who needs it to survive! But as a middle-class, unemployed, autistic trans girl who recently turned 18 and is expected by my parents to get a job soon to continue living here, I would desperately appreciate any sort of income possible!)

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All Prices in USD, pay via PayPal - Please pay at least 50% upfront, thank you!

-Basic lineart + coloring for a 720x480 or 480x800 panel: $10 (+$5 per extra character)

-Lineart + coloring + shading + effects + background for a 800x1280 or 1280x720 comic-page-sized drawing: $30 (+$20 per extra character)

-Purely landscape/environmental with no characters, 1280x720: $25 (though depends on the complexity)

There’s no set time or schedule for me, so it could take anywhere between a few hours and a few weeks for me to finish, depending on mental health, work, other activities, etc., but you may ask for a 50% refund if it takes me more than a month. If I am unable to finish the piece for whatever reason, I will offer a full refund. Please don’t rush me or change your instructions after I’ve started it. Thank you!

Anything you commission from me will be subject to my copyright and will be posted publicly (UNLESS IT IS NSFW), however you are allowed to also post and use it in any way UNLESS that way involves harassment, discrimination, to be directly sold or used for your own product(s), training any sort of AI models, or claiming ownership over my art.

Oh yeah and feel free to just DM me if you want a commission, though I'm not the most active at times lol

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I’ll try drawing pretty much anything, but there are some disclaimers I should make:

Things that I am not necessarily adverse to drawing, but my lack of experience in the specific subject may result in the process taking much longer and/or the result being of lesser quality than my other work: -Drawing outside of my normal artstyle -Furries -Animals -NSFW -Complex designs, vehicles, mechs

Because of this, you may request the price to be 20% off if it includes the above.

And these things are completely off the limits for obvious reasons: -Any art that is hateful or discriminatory in any way -Art made to harass someone -Fetish content -NSFW of minors, non-anthro animals, non-consensual encounters, and/or incest -Heavy gore, maggots, feces, and other disgusting stuff

Oh yeah and PLEASE DO NOT commission anything NSFW from me if you are a minor!!!!!

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!!!ALSO!!! I likely can only handle no more than 8 commissions at a time, but I will have the available slots in my bio.

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Here is a bunch of other random drawings and comic pages I've made!

I'll likely make an updated version of this later lol

Please reblog and share to help get a young artist started in their life! Any support is greatly appreciated, have a fantastic day!!

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mari-writes · 7 months

Text

🦉🐈‍⬛

“Are you sure about this? You know I’ll support you not matter what. But dude, you’re definitely good enough to go pro!”

Kuroo glances at Bokuto, seated next to him at the bar. His friend is looking down into his drink, brow furrowed, shoulders drooping slightly. He sighs. “Yes, I’m sure. I have other things I want to do.”

Bokuto nods silently, still looking a bit dejected. And Kuroo understands. He really does. Their final university tournament is fast approaching. After that series of games, they’ll be focused on exams, job interviews, and preparing to move out.

The two of them had shared a university, including a bunch of classes, a volleyball team, and even a living space for the past few years. Their lives had intertwined so much so that Bokuto became more than just a “second best friend.”

He’s more like a brother now.

But their futures are finally heading in opposite directions, and Kuroo can admit—it’s a bit daunting. Emotions are running high. “It’s not like I won’t be involved in volleyball,” he adds. “I couldn’t stay away even if I tried. But I think I want to work from behind the scenes from now on.”

Bokuto’s mouth twitches into a smile. “You DO have a lot of options, don’t you?” Kuroo had double majored in Biology and Marketing & Communications, all while maintaining his spot on the team. He had been unanimously voted captain in his final year, of course choosing Bokuto as his vice. College had been crazy, but a good kind of crazy, for the most part.

“I want to keep ‘lowering the net,’” Kuroo says. “I want to get as many people interested in volleyball as I can.”

Bokuto’s grin turns toothy. He leans in to clank their glasses together. “Now THAT’S what I’m talking about!" They both take a long swig. The liquor burns Kuroo’s throat briefly before a warm, fuzzy feeling settles into his chest.

“You know, I’m really glad we were here together.” Bokuto’s voice is lowered, just loud enough to be heard over the din. Kuroo shifts on his stool, but stays silent, allowing his friend to continue. “It was… hard to accept that Keiji wouldn’t be continuing volleyball after high school. And even harder when he chose a different college.”

Kuroo nods in understanding. While it hadn’t been a surprise that Kenma announced he’d be choosing another path, it was still difficult to accept.

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without you here, Kuroo!”

Frowning, Kuroo reaches to punch his friend lightly in the arm. “Oi!” He tuts. “Stop that. Or else I’m gonna tell on you to your boyfriend. I know for a fact that Akaashi hates when you cut yourself down!” Bokuto just shrugs. “C’mon, Bo. You would’ve been fine. Great, even. I mean, aside from maybe Chibi-chan, you’re the best at making friends. You make your biggest rivals want to cheer for you!”

“Hey, Hinata’s not so ‘Chibi’ anymore!” Bokuto chuckles. “Have you seen his latest photos from Brazil? My disciple is turning into an absolute beast!”

They both laugh, and Kuroo relaxes. He’d been pretty worried about telling Bokuto about his plans. But now that it’s done, he finally feels at peace. “You’re going to go far with volleyball,” he declares, raising his glass once again. “I just know it. But someday you might want to put that Education degree to use, too. Hit me up when that happens, okay?”

Bokuto’s smile is blinding. “Yeah!” He nods enthusiastically. “We could coach at a school, or put a volleyball camp together or something!”

Kuroo winks. “Now THAT sounds like a solid plan.”

I’ve been thinking about Kuroo and Bo’s friendship a lot lately, especially since I saw that leaked sketch of them leading a kids' volleyball camp together. It’s just so special to me. 🥺❤️ Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please comment and share!

#bokuto koutarou #kuroo tetsurou #bokuroo friendship #bokuaka #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #my writing #drabble #ficlet

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fanfics4all · 3 months

Text

Fainting

Request: Yes / No Thank you @badthingshappenbingo for my card!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Fangs Fogarty x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3747

Warnings: Bulimia, Self-harm, Starvation

Y/N: Your Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Prompt(s):

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Fangs and I have lived together for about a month now, and in that month I’ve managed to hide the fact that I fucking hate my body. No one knew and I was too worried about being judged to tell anyone. I knew deep down that Fangs would never judge me, I mean we’ve been dating for three years now, but the voices always win in the end. So that’s why I spend a lot of time in the bathroom whenever Fangs goes out without me.

“I’ll be back in a bit, babe!” Fangs called. He was going out with Pea for a job with the Serpents.

“Okay! Be careful!” I called back. Ironic I’m telling him to be careful when I sit at home and throw everything up.

“I will, love you!” He said.

“Love you too!” I said and heard the door close behind him. I waited a bit to make sure Fangs wouldn’t walk back in because he forgot something. The last time that happened I pretended to shower so he wouldn’t hear me. Once I was sure he wouldn’t come back I got off our bed and walked into the bathroom. I pulled out the scale and took a deep breath before I stepped on it. I closed my eyes and tried my best not to shake. I took another calming breath and slowly peeled my eyes open to look at the horrid number. 130 pounds… I sighed, at least I lost two pounds since yesterday. I didn’t really eat anything yesterday. Or the day before. Or the day before that. In fact, I couldn’t really remember the last time I ate a proper meal in which I didn’t throw up a few hours later while Fangs was asleep. It was probably a year ago? Someone at school made a comment about me that I brushed off in the moment, but it was like a silent switch flipped in my brain. After that, I went home and stared at the mirror, noticing all the imperfections about myself. That was the day I decided to lose weight. When normal methods weren’t working, I turned to the extreme. It was the only thing that gave me results… It didn’t help that I started comparing myself to people Fangs talked to. The girls were way prettier than I am. The boys were skinnier than me. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Fangs chose me out of everyone. I couldn’t think of any reasons that Fangs stayed with me all this time, or even why he asked me to move in with him after my trailer burnt down. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy with Fangs, but something in my head just isn’t on the same page as my heart.

I sighed and looked down at the number once again. 130 pounds. It was below the average weight of my age group, but 120 or even 110 would be way better. I stepped off the scale and looked at myself in the mirror.

Look at your thighs, they’re so fat. Don’t forget that huge stomach of yours. Did you see that girl he was talking to at the bar last week? Now she was perfectly skinny. The perfect body.

I sighed and ran my fingers over my body. Fat. That was all I could feel. I was fucking fat. No matter how little I eat, or how much I worked out. I will always be fat. Fat and fucking ugly. I would never be perfect like those people Fangs talk to. I took off my clothes and looked in the mirror again. I stared at my stomach. Even though the scale says I got smaller, to me it looks like my stomach has grown another twenty pounds. My stomach growled as I lightly touched it. I hated the hunger pains, but the feeling of emptiness was too addictive. I love feeling like I finally was in control of my body. I moved my hands down to my thighs and felt the small scars that were slightly raised. When I first started that’s how I would punish myself when the workouts didn’t work, or if I gained another pound or two. That didn’t last long since Toni found out and told Fangs. I wasn’t too attached to the cutting, so that was easy to stop. The sharp pain as the razor glided through my skin, pulling beads of crimson up through the cut, wasn’t as good as the starving. It didn’t make me feel better like not eating. I shook my head and glanced over at the toilet. I’ve become very acquainted with it. My head was shoved inside it at least twice a day. Sure my stomach was empty, but I knew I could still get some stuff out of me. I kneeled down and gently lifted the lid. I stared down into the toilet and took a few breaths. Throwing up on an empty stomach always hurt, but it was worth it to lose those few pounds. I opened my mouth and took my pointer finger into my mouth. I slowly pushed it to the back of my throat and gagged once I found the spot. I was good at not pulling my finger out when I gagged now, so I just kept pushing on it. My stomach was screaming in pain as it tightened with each gag. It took a few minutes, but eventually, I felt the burning creep up my throat. I pulled my finger out and leaned over the toilet. I watched as the bile flew into the water and already felt a little lighter. It wasn’t much, but every little bit helps. I took a few breaths to recover and quickly pushed my finger back inside my mouth. Once again it took a bit, but I eventually threw up more bile. It still wasn’t enough though. I kept going and going until my head started to spin. I felt really dizzy and weak, but it was working. I felt lighter. I kept going until black dots invaded my vision. I fell back on my ass and held my head.

“J-Jus-st a b-bi-it mo-ore…” I slurred to myself. I tried to get back up so I could finish, but I just fell to the floor more and my vision turned completely black…

*Fangs POV*

I walked back into the trailer with a smile as I carried some Pop’s for me and Y/N. I placed the bags and drinks on the coffee table and noticed Y/N wasn’t there. Must be in our room with her laptop or something.

“Babe, I’m back! I brought Pop’s.” I called but got no answer.

“Baby?” I called again, thinking she couldn’t hear me. Still nothing.

“Y/N, you asleep or something?” I said as I walked towards our bedroom. She wasn’t there. I furrowed my brows and wondered if maybe she went out with Toni or something. I pulled out my phone and called her. I heard her phone ring and followed it to the bathroom. I quickly hung up and walked over to the bathroom. The shower wasn’t running so she should have heard me.

“Y/N? Baby? You in there?” I asked as I gently knocked. No answer. My heart started pounding faster and I quickly opened the door. I stopped in shock as I stared inside the bathroom. Y/N was lying on the floor, looking unnaturally skinny and there was vomit in the toilet. I quickly rushed over to her and checked her pulse. The small thump from her neck made me sigh in relief. I carefully pushed my hands under her and lifted her up. I gasped when I felt how light she was. How did I not notice how much weight she lost? How did I not notice how her bones were starting to be visible through her skin. I shuddered and felt tears pushing themselves to the surface. How the hell could I be such a shitty boyfriend and not realize the love of my life was putting herself in so much danger. I carefully made my way to our room and gently laid her down. I grabbed one of my shirts and carefully put it on her, she was drowning in it. I tucked her in so she wouldn’t get cold and checked that she was breathing again. I sighed and left to deal with the bathroom. Once I was done cleaning I grabbed her some water and placed it on the nightstand. I pulled up a chair and sat next to her. I stoked her hair and tried my hardest to think of what could have made her do this, or even when she started. I blamed myself for not seeing anything different. I believed every smile Y/N always put on. Every laugh she made. How the hell did I not see anything!? I tried to calm myself down, but I was so angry with myself. Maybe even a very small part of me was mad at her for not coming to me, but I pushed that away. I shouldn’t be mad at her, she needs me more than ever. I grabbed my phone and decided to call Toni and see if she knew anything about this.

“Hey Fangs, what’s up?” She answered after the second ring.

“Did you notice anything off about Y/N lately?” I asked, getting right to the point.

“Uh, no? Why? What’s up?” She asked, worry clear in her voice.

“I came home and she was passed out in the bathroom with vomit in the toilet. She’s really fucking skinny Toni…” I said, feeling a tear involuntarily fall down my cheek.

“What? How skinny?” She asked.

“Like I can see her ribs starting to poke out.” I answered and she gasped.

“W-What? H-How?” She asked and I sighed.

“I don’t know, T. I didn’t notice anything different…” I said quietly.

“How? Have you guys not… ya know?” She asked and my eyes widened.

“We’ve both been busy, but every time she’s just wanted to ya know, please me…” I said and felt my stomach turn slightly. She’s been hiding this for so long…

“Shit Fangs, are you at the hospital? Want me and Pea to come by?” She asked and I shook my head.

“I just have my bike and I-I don’t know what the hell they’ll do to her. I’m scared to take her there. What if they say she’s dying, or they lock her up, or I don’t know…” I sighed.

“Fangs if she’s really bad you’ve gotta take her to the hospital, they’ll help her.” She said, gently.

“Toni I can’t, what if she never forgives me for that? Clearly, she’s been hiding this for a while I don’t want her to hate me…” I said, fully crying by now.

“Listen, Fangs, you wanna help her, right?” She asked with a sigh.

“Yes…” I whispered.

“Then you gotta take her. I’ll call Pea and we can use his truck, okay?” She asked and I shook my head again.

“Can’t I just wait till she wakes up? They’re gonna keep her there for who knows how long.” I said and she sighed.

“I don’t think you should wait. What if this isn’t the first time she’s passed out?” She asked and my eyes widened. I didn’t think about that.

“J-Just let me wait till she wakes up first. Let me talk to her.” I begged and she sighed.

“Fine, but you call me after, you got it?” She asked.

“I promise.” I said and she sighed again.

“I’m still calling Pea and letting him know what’s going on.” She said and I sighed.

“Fine, just keep him from barging in, I don’t wanna scare her.” I said and she agreed. We said our goodbyes and hung up.

I sat there in silence as I just stared at Y/N. I couldn’t stop thinking about how awful I am for not noticing anything. She hid it really well, which hurt. I had stopped crying but didn’t bother wiping my face. I just held her hand and stared at her. That’s when she started shifting. She slowly opened her Y/E/C and looked around for a moment before they landed on my dark brown ones. Neither of us moved or made a sound, just stared at the other.

“I’m sorry…” She mumbled after a moment. She looked down and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Never. I mean never, do that again.” I choked out as my tears returned. Y/N looked up silently and reached up with her other hand to wipe away my tears.

“You shouldn’t cry over me, I’m not worth it…” She whispered as she continued to caress my cheek. I felt the anger return and pulled back from her.

“No Y/N! Don’t you ever think that! You’re more than worth it, you’re my perfect girl. I don’t understand why you even thought you needed to lose weight in the first place, but you’ve always been perfect! You’re beautiful, funny, caring, and amazing! I love you, I always have. I can’t stand seeing you do this to yourself when you don’t need to. I saw what was in the toilet, when was the last time you ate?” I asked and she had more tears falling down her gorgeous face.

“I-I don’t know. Yesterday at lunch? I don’t know. I-I…” She started crying harder. I pulled her in for a gentle hug and stroked her hair.

“How long have you been doing this babe?” I whispered.

“A-A ye-year…” She answered between sobs. My heart broke and I sighed. I held her for a bit longer and gently pulled her back once she calmed down a bit.

“Baby, you need to eat and actually keep it down. You need to get better, Y/N. Please.” I said and she shook her head.

“I-I can’t! Looking at all those people that you talk to, they’re so much prettier than me! They’re skinnier, hotter, cooler, everything! Those people at school made me realize that I’m never going to be like them. I’m never going to be good enough for you…” She said, sobbing into her hands. My eyes widened as I stared at her. Who the fuck said that to her? She’s always been perfect, my everything… I gently pulled her hands away and tried to catch her eyes, but she avoided me.

“Y/N, look at me, please?” I asked quietly. She looked up and she looked so broken.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you more than anything. I always have and I always will. No one in this damn world could ever compare to you, baby. You’ve always been my number one and I have never even thought of another person. Guy or girl. You don’t need to change yourself just because some jealous bitch said something to you. I will always love you no matter what.” I said and she sobbed.

“Do you mean it?” She asked in a broken whisper.

“Every word baby. I promise you that I love you with every piece of my heart. I just want you to get better right now. You passed out Y/N, do you know how scared I was?” I asked quietly.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” She cried and I pulled her into my chest.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. You don’t have to be sorry okay? We’re gonna get you some help and get you better, okay?” I asked and she nodded.

“Now, I gotta call Toni and tell her you woke up before she and Pea come breaking down the door.” I said and her eyes widened.

“Y-You told Toni and Pea?” She asked with more tears falling.

“I called to see if Toni noticed anything with you, I was so worried Y/N.” I said, caressing her cheek and wiping the tears. She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch.

“Toni wanted me to take you to the hospital and I know I should have, but I just didn’t want to lose you.” I admitted and she looked up at me.

“I’m so sorry, Fangs…” She said and I shook my head.

“You don’t need to be sorry, baby.” I said and kissed her forehead.

“Now let me call Toni and maybe I can convince her to not take you to the hospital, but you have to eat a bit of the Pop’s I brought home, deal?” I asked and she nodded while taking a shaky breath.

“I’m not gonna make you eat all of it, but you need to eat at least a little okay? We’ll work on this slowly.” I said and she nodded.

“O-Okay…” She whispered. I smiled and kissed her head once more before I went to get the food. When I walked back in she was fiddling with her hands. She looked up and I saw her sniff the air subtly. Her stomach growled and I smiled slightly. I walked over and placed the food on her lap, but left the milkshake in the other room. It would be way too heavy for her right now, even if she did love them.

“I got your favorite, but I think we’re gonna skip the milkshake today and just stick with water, alright?” I asked and she nodded. Her shaky hands took out the burger and fries and gently laid them on the blanket.

“Alright, I’m gonna sit right here and call Toni and you’re gonna start eating, okay?” I asked and she nodded. I pulled out my phone and called Toni as I watched Y/N slowly start to eat the cold fries. I watched as she put the first one in her mouth and she moaned slightly. I smiled as she continued eating them.

“Fangs! Is she awake?” Toni answered.

“Yeah, she’s awake.” I answered and I heard her sigh.

“Perfect, I’m with Pea and Juggie right now and we have the truck so we’ll be over in a few and we can take her to the hospital.” She said as I heard movement from her side.

“I don’t think we’re gonna need to take her to the hospital.” I said as I watched her pick up the burger. She took a bite and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. I chuckled and smiled at her.

“Fangs she passed out, she needs to go to the fucking hospital.” Toni said, slightly annoyed.

“I think we can deal with this ourselves, T.” I said and she groaned.

“Seriously? You agreed to take her to the hospital when she woke up.” She said and I sighed.

“Just come over and see, I promise we got this.” I said and she sighed.

“Fine, we’re already on our way.” She said and hung up. I hung up and saw Y/N was halfway done with the burger.

“Slow down babe.” I said with a small chuckle. She blushed and looked over at me.

“Sorry…” She mumbled and I smiled at her.

“Don’t be, I know you’re hungry, but like I said we gotta take it slow.” I said and she nodded.

A few minutes later, our front door was opening. We heard three sets of footsteps coming towards us and Y/N looked scared. I grabbed her hand and gently gave her a reassuring squeeze. The door opened and in walked Toni, Pea, and Jughead. They all looked at Y/N with wide eyes and Toni rushed over to her other side. She pulled her in for a hug, which Y/N returned.

“Are you crazy? Starving yourself or throwing shit up, whichever. How long has this been going on, huh?” Toni asked and Y/N looked down in shame.

“Toni, relax. We already talked about it and look she’s already eating.” I said and grabbed Y/N’s hand again.

“I’m sorry…” Y/N said quietly again.

“Babe I already told you, you don’t need to be sorry.” I said.

“No Fangs is right, sorry Y/N/N, I’m just worried.” Toni said, taking a seat on the bed next to her.

“We all are.” Jones said. She looked up at Pea and Jughead and they each smiled at her.

“Yeah, so who ass do I need to beat for starting this shit?” Pea asked and Toni rolled her eyes. Y/N laughed and I smiled at her.

“If I’m honest I don’t even remember who said something…” She said and blushed slightly.

“I just know it was about a year ago and that’s when I started looking at myself differently. I just hate how I look and constantly compare myself to everyone else and…” She trailed off.

“Wait, that’s when you started cutting, were you doing this too?” Toni asked and Y/N shook her head.

“No, I started after you guys helped with that…” She said with a guilty tone.

“Oh Y/N…” Toni said and pulled her in for another hug.

“I’m so-”

“Nope, don’t you dare apologize.” Toni said, cutting her off.

“Yeah, we’re sorry for not noticing anything.” Jones said and Y/N shook her head.

“I hid it, there was no way you guys could have known. I mean I was wearing clothes that were a bit too big for me so you guys wouldn’t see my weight change.” She said and we all looked at each other. That explains a bit.

“We’ll that’s fucking over, let’s go get you some more food.” Pea said and she shook her head.

“I’m kind of full.” She said and I placed the rest of the food on the nightstand.

“That’s okay, like I said, slow.” I said and she nodded with a small smile.

“Fangs is right, we gotta take this slow, but we’re all here for you and we’re gonna help every step of the way.” Toni said with a smile. Pea and Jones also nodded and Y/N teared up.

“You guys are the best and I’m really so-”

“Stop apologizing Y/N/N, or I’m gonna kick your ass.” Pea said and she laughed a real genuine happy laugh. We all smiled at her and I gently squeezed her hand. This might be a hard and long road ahead, but we would all support her every step. I think she finally realized that she’s amazing and if not we would all be here to remind her.

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