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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

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Better Than Revenge

Kinktober Day 7- Fear Play

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT- noncon, kidnapping, violence, drugging, mentions of sexual assault, revenge porn, non-consensual picture taking, stalking, forced breeding, blackmail, AFAB!reader, bondage, humiliation, pain play, degradation, vaginal fingering, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, 18+ minors DNI

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You enjoyed your time at college. You made many new friends, partied, joined clubs, and learned a little along the way. It was fun for a freshly eighteen-year-old, but by the time the end of your senior year came, you were ready to move on to adult life. Since then, you don’t think about college much in your daily life. Your college friends are now just your friends, and your better days are still to come, not behind you.

That’s not to say you never think fondly back on a memory or two here and there, but you’re so busy with your job at the DA’s office that you don’t have time to be hung up on the past. Others, you’ve found, do still live in the past.

Dr. Jonathan Crane, the chief psychiatrist at Arkham took notice of you when you first started working for the DA. Crane was not well-liked by your boss, seeing as he always managed a way to get the criminals you were trying to put behind bars an insanity plea. While he was a frustrating legal enemy, you never had anything to do with the man outside of the courtroom, or so you thought.

After a long day of court and debating with Crane, you were walking home from the office late when a metal pipe cracked over your head and you fell to the wet pavement, out cold. When you woke, you found yourself in a damp, cold warehouse with Dr. Crane looking on from a chair, dressed in a lab coat. Fear spikes in your stomach when you see the man in front of you. Being in your position, there’s only one explanation for why he would be here as well, though you can’t imagine why.

You are bound and gagged; your arms are wrenched in an uncomfortable position above your head and your wrists are tied to a chain from the ceiling. Your mouth is covered with duct tape, effectively suppressing any screams. Your toes just barely touch the floor, which puts a horrible strain on your arms, but there is no use fighting against the bonds.

When Crane notices you regain consciousness, he stands from his chair and approaches you. He gets close to your face and looks into your slightly hazy and unfocused eyes, his own piercing ones making you tremble under his gaze.

“Don’t struggle, you’ll hurt yourself,” he says, voice eerily soothing for a kidnapper. “You know, it’s dangerous for a girl like you to walk alone at night. This city’s a dangerous place, you never know what kind of creeps could be lurking in the shadows.”

He grins a sick, vile grin that makes your skin crawl. Crane reaches out and tips your chin up with his cold pointer finger. He moves your face from side to side, examining you, checking for any damage he might have done. His thumb traces the duct tape over your mouth, finding the seam of your lips and touching you like a doll.

“I’m surprised you’ve kept your looks with how you used to party,” he says casually. You furrow your brows in confusion but you’re unable to question him. “Though I’m sure your liver isn’t what it used to be.”

Before you can ponder his words, Crane walks behind you and you can hear the sound of metal tools clattering together. When he reappears, he is holding a pair of sheers and wears a sadistic smirk. He roughly grabs the hem of your blouse and cuts it up the middle, exposing your bra. He then cuts the fabric of the sleeves so the garment falls to the floor, leaving you topless.

You want to fight back to get this sick creep off of you, but you figure it’s best not to provoke the man with scissors against your skin. Instead, you’re subjected to his eyes ogling you.

“What a thing to wear to work,” he says, amused. “I’m sure this can’t be comfortable. Were you wearing it for an occasion?” he asks, fingers tracing the delicate lace of the band. “Surely not a date. I know you don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t think you’re the type of girl to put out on the first date.”

You wonder how he could know you don’t have a boyfriend when the realization hits you. He knew what path you took on your way home, he knew what time you’d be leaving the office, and he knew details of your private life that you haven’t shared with anyone but your friends. He’s been stalking you.

“Maybe you had other plans for lunch with your boss this afternoon. Dent is quite the looker, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. What his poor wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” he asks with a smirk. “You really haven't changed.” You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’re not sure what any of this means.

Crane then moves the sheers to the hem of your skirt and makes a small cut. Instead of cutting all the way up like he did with your blouse, he drops the scissors, grasps the skirt, and starts to slowly tear it. The sound of the fabric ripping is deafening in the near-silent warehouse, and fear threatens to rise in your throat as he creeps up your thigh. His eyes watch the exposed skin intently as he undresses you, clearly gaining some kind of pleasure from this. When he reaches the top, he lets the skirt fall at your feet and now has an unobstructed view of your matching underwear set.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “what a surprise. I guess you did have big plans.”

He slips his finger underneath the elastic band of your panties and snaps them back against your hip, making you jump. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps from the cold air and you squirm as you try in vain to hide yourself.

“You don’t mind if I look under these, do you?” he asks, tugging on your panties again.

Up to this point, you haven’t protested, figuring it was better to cooperate, but you can’t let him violate you like this. You let out a muffled “no” and violently shake your head as you try to move away from his touch. Crane only laughs and moves closer to you. You kick him in the knee and he curses, but it doesn’t do much to deter him.

“You can’t fight me off. All you’re doing is making this worse for yourself,” he hisses. You try to scream, but with the duct tape sealing your lips, it’s no use. “Do you have something to say?”

You plead with your eyes and he reaches up to grasp the edge of the duct tape, but he takes it as an opportunity to be more cruel. He rips the tape from your lips, surely taking skin with it.

“Help!” you scream, “Somebody help me!”

Instead of ordering you to be quiet or suppressing your screams, Crane just laughs.

“Scream all you want, no one’s going to hear you. Not like anyone would care if the world was down one useless bimbo anyway.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me?” you shout, your throat feeling raw from the strain.

Anger flashes in Crane’s eyes and his jaw clenches. You continue to thrash and scream, and despite what he said about no one caring, he tightly grabs your waist and steps on your foot to keep you from moving. His face is now only inches from yours and you get the idea to spit into his face. It won’t do much, but it’s the only thing you can do to deter him.

Crane hisses and lets go of your waist to wipe the spit out of his eyes, and when he looks back at you, his eyes are glassy and his dark eyelashes are clumped together.

“You fucking bitch,” he bites. “You’re lucky I haven’t hurt you yet.”

The vague threat does frighten you, but you have many questions that you demand answers to.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me, Crane?” you ask again.

He laughs bitterly. “Of course you don’t know. You probably have no clue what you’ve done to me. The hell you put me through.”

He leans his weight on the foot crushing yours and when you wince, he grabs your jaw tightly, squishing your cheeks together and forcing your mouth open.

“I don’t know,” you say as best you can.

“You don’t remember college?” he asks. “Your sorority sisters and their fucking jock boyfriends tormenting me. How for years you made my life a living hell just for existing outside of your perfect little bubble.”

His face is twisted into a snarl now as he recounts the memories that drove him to his actions tonight. “I thought the bullying would be over when I got to college but it was so much worse. My door would get vandalized every fucking day with insults and crude images. You and your group of whores spread all kinds of rumors that I was crazy. You said I was a psychopath, a pervert, a sadistic killer who got off on seeing women in fear. Everyone believed it. Everyone.”

As he explained his story, your memory was jogged. You remember a short, skinny guy from college who wore thick-framed glasses and carried a satchel to class. He was awkward, made uncomfortable eye contact, and often made himself the target of ridicule. He had a vast knowledge of science and medicine and was very interested in the mind’s reaction to fear. You never knew his name, only ever referring to him as “Peeping Tom”, which was kind in comparison to some of your friends’ nicknames for him.

“I was an outcast for four fucking years. I couldn’t transfer, I couldn’t afford any other school. Not like you could ever understand that. I accepted that I was a social pariah, but then you went and ruined my fucking life even more,” he hisses.

You didn’t notice the knife in his hand until the point was against your chest, too lost in his rage-filled eyes. You now remember more of what he’s saying and you want to apologize and assure him that you’ve changed, but he seems past the point of reason.

“October 2nd, 1997. I was in my room studying for an exam when you showed up at my door. You were clearly drunk and you came onto me. You promised me all kinds of things and pushed me onto my bed and sat on my lap. You kissed me and took off my shirt, then put your hand down my pants and took my dick out. That’s when your hoard of sluts and every guy you’ve ever fucked barged into my room and took pictures. They spread them to everyone, and it was all because of you.” he hissed. “I was labeled the creep, the predator, the pathetic virgin who thought he could make it with a sorority girl and it was all your fault.”

The man in front of you was shaking with anger, his voice trembling slightly as he recounted the memory. The blade trembled in his hand and dug slightly into your skin, but the pain from the knife was overpowered by the icy feeling of fear.

“Jonathan,” you say meekly, “That was almost a decade ago. I-I’m so sorry I did that to you, I don’t even remember it. I promise I’ve changed.”

“You don’t remember it, that’s exactly why I have to do this. You’re never going to forget again.”

You whimper in fear as he brings the knife up to your neck. The blade bites at your skin, catching when you take a breath.

“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper with your eyes squeezed shut.

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. That’d be such a waste of a warm hole.”

His words are disgusting and degrading. They make you want to shiver out of your own skin and run as far away from him as possible. Luckily, he removes the knife from your neck and takes a small step back.

Crane reaches into his pants pocket and takes out a small digital camera. Your eyes widen when you see it, immediately catching on to what he plans to do to you. He powers the camera on and points it at you, smiling when he sees your pixilated form on the display. He clicks the shutter and a light flashes.

He lowers the camera from his face to reveal a wicked smirk. "It doesn't feel too good, does it?" he asks. "Well it's about to get a lot worse for you."

He kicks your bare ankle with his foot, making you wince as your legs spread. He laughs cruelly and does the same to the other foot. Your legs are open uncomfortably, giving him easy access to what you're desperate to hide from him.

His fingers, long and cold, push through your folds and into your cunt without warning or preparation. He fingers you despite being dry to start, but you slowly get wetter in response to the intrusion.

"Still such a slut even after all this time," he says. "I'm not surprised you're so loose."

He fingers you roughly, seemingly unsure of how to do it, or maybe he just cares that little for your comfort. His nails catch on the ridges inside of you and the poking of his fingers scissoring make you wince. Thankfully he got his fill of that quickly, and pulled out his wet fingers.

He brings them to his nose to sniff, then wipes your wetness off on his pants. "Smells like whore," he says.

Without any further words, Crane reaches down and grabs you by your ankle and pulls it off the floor. You yelp as you lose your balance and your bonds tug on your shoulders. Crane then hooks your foot on a strap that also comes from the ceiling. He then does the same to your other leg.

Now you're suspended in the air, cunt on display for him and helpless. Crane takes out the camera again and takes more pictures of you spread out.

"I have waited so long for this."

Crane wears a sick, wicked grin that does not falter as stands between your spread legs. His hands work his fly open and quickly he frees his cock. It's already hard and the flushed tip is leaking, just from the torture he's inflicting onto you.

"I knew after that night that you would be my first," he says as he rubs his head through your folds. "Weather you wanted to be or not."

Your breath catches in your throat when he pushes into you bare. He goes slow, likely for his own sake so he doesn’t cum too soon, but whatever mercy he shows you doesn’t provide any comfort.

Once he’s fully seated inside of you, he begins to rut. Erratic, inexperienced thrusts to chase his own pleasure inside of being conscientious of yours. His eyes are half lidded and laser-focused on your breasts.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

With each thrust, the makeshift sex swing he has you in rocks, making the chains that hold you creak. You worry that you’re going to fall, but you suppose that would be better than a knife in your gut.

Crane’s cock bumps against your cervix which makes you whimper from the discomfort, but he thinks it’s out of pleasure.

“You like that? You like taking my cock like a fucking fleshlight? Didn’t think you’d be so easy, but I guess all it took back then was a spot on the football team to get into your pants.”

Crane is indeed using you like a fleshlight. He alternates between thrusting into you and holding onto the chains to move you over his cock. It’s humiliating, painful, awful, but he’s no longer threatening you with a knife.

He pulls out the camera again and points the lens at your pussy where it’s stretched around him. Then he backs up the camera a bit to capture your full form, contorted by the chains.

“W-what are you gonna do with those?” you ask with your broken voice.

“Exactly what you did to me,” he growls.

“No! No, please, you can’t do that.”

He grabs the chains and slams you down onto him, sending him impossibly deeper.

“You ruined my life. Now it’s your turn.”

“My career will be over! Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t send those to anyone!”

You’re begging shamelessly, sobbing and snotty, but none of this seems to turn him off. In fact, he seems to enjoy it more.

“I’m sure Dent would be interested to see what you get up to after hours. Of course, your reputation would be ruined once the rest of the city sees your messy cunt.”

All you can do is cry and shake your head.

“I know you’re good friends with Bruce Wayne. Maybe I’ll tell everyone that he did this to you and ruin you both. Wouldn’t that be sweet,” he says.

His voice is raspy and low; he’s clearly very affected by the pleasure of using you and you doubt he can hold on for much longer.

“I-I’ll do anything, Dr. Crane. Please,” you say between sobs.

“Hmm,” he hums.

Crane grabs your breast roughly and squeezes, digging his nails into your soft skin. You hiss and your face screws up with pain. He then slaps it repeatedly until you show signs of more discomfort.

“Please,” you beg again.

“It might be nice to have a friend at the DA’s office,” he says with a smirk. “Especially one that would bid in my favor, lest some dirty pictures get out.”

Blackmail? Jesus, he’s fucking sick. Though you suppose the threat of releasing them is better than him actually doing it.

“Yes, yes, I’ll do it. I’ll help you out, just please don’t send them,” you say frantically.

He fucks you even more erratically now, like he can’t decide if he should edge or finish himself off.

“Are you scared?” he asks, voice frighteningly low. You nod in response. “You’re scared of me, the loser you tormented in college? Don’t you regret that?”

He’s speaking so quiet and slowly like he’s trying to hypnotize you. You nod along with what he’s saying, figuring it’s better just to agree.

“You’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Every time you look at our bastard child, you’ll see my face and regret what you did to me.”

That catches your attention. Our child?

“W-what?”

“You thought I kidnapped you just to cum in my hand? I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking with my fucking cum. Oh, and you know that little pill you take every day? I switched that out weeks ago. This little womb is as fertile as ever, and you’re going to give me a baby.”

Your stomach flips and you immediately feel nauseous. He tampered with your birth control? That means he was in your house. He could have put cameras up, bugged the place. You have no idea what he’s truly capable of.

Tears being to stream down your cheeks again. You feel so violated, so helpless. He doesn’t wipe away your tears or even tell you to stop crying. He just watches as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he growls. “And you’re gonna take it all.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to yours, forcing you to look deep into his eyes as he fills you with his cum. The wet, hot feeling of it flooding your insides makes you feel sick, and he continues to fuck himself through his orgasm which makes the cum froth and leak down your holes.

He stays seated inside you, keeping you plugged so the sperm has time to take. Crane is breathing heavily but he doesn’t once look away from you.

"Good girl," he mutters. "Good pussy."

You sag in relief when he finally pulls out. Your cunt aches from his rough treatment, and not in the fun way. Your arms and legs hurt from the bonds, but that appears to be a pain you won't soon be free from.

Crane walks back over to the chair he was sitting in when you first woke up and takes a seat. "I'll keep you here for a couple days so you can't go off and take one of those pesky morning after pills," he says casually.

"Y-you can't. They'll notice when I don't show up for work," you try to reason with him.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I called on your behalf and told them you had a family emergency. Something about grandma and her heart," he says. "I've taken care of everything."

You don't doubt that he has, and that scares you. He rests his ankle on the opposite knee and looks at the pictures he took on the camera.

"Now all you have to do is stay out of my way in court, and no one will ever see these," he grins, letting the camera dangle from his wrist by the strap.

You nod in understanding. "Good girl."

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #dc scarecrow #nolanverse #jonathan crane headcanon #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane fanfiction #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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cieloclercs · 9 months

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what would you say (if i told you i love you)? — charles leclerc

PART: 2/? (read part 1 here)

summary. in which childhood best friends blur the lines between what they’ve always known, and something more

warnings. swearing, reader and charles cuteness but also obliviousness again, mentions of f*rerrai, arthur and joris being sarcastic bc they’re also sick of charles and y/n being oblivious

pairings. charles leclerc x artsy!reader

face claim. tara michelle

author’s note. took a few creative liberties with this one in terms of the auction (especially the price, i have no idea what modern art sells for) but we’re going to overlook that ☺️

charles_leclerc

replies:

pierregasly 😉 joris_trouche simp behaviour ↳ charles_leclerc tais toi / shut up arthur_leclerc so that’s where you were this morning! 😃 yourusername thank you for taking me 😊 c’était parfait / it was perfect ↳ charles_leclerc any time :)

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y/nsart study: reflection & refraction. inspired by a morning swim on monaco beach (which charles woke me up at 4am for 🙄)

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charles_leclerc you loved it really 😉

y/nsart 🙃

charles_leclerc your talent never ceases to amaze me, chérie

y/nsart thank you char 🥰

leclerc_pascale Vraiment magnifique! / truly magnificent

y/nsart ❤️

username i’m speechless. imagine being this talented

username telling my kids this is da vinci

arthur_leclerc i swear you only went last week?? how long did it take you to paint these?

y/nsart they’re only small so not that long!

charles_leclerc she’s barely left her apartment all week because she’s been painting 😑

y/nsart don’t expose me 😔

charles_leclerc now that you’ve finally finished… movie night? 🙂

y/nsart omw

username have you ever thought about selling some of your paintings? because i’d pay definitely pay for these 😍

y/nsart i’ve never really considered it, but maybe in the future!

username UHM HELLO?! WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE SECOND SLIDE???

username HJSHJS THEY’RE SO CUTE

arthur_leclerc

replies:

joris_trouche looks very friendly 😁👍 ↳ arthur_leclerc 😂😂 charles_leclerc arthur… delete this 🙄 yourusername neither are you mate x ↳ arthur_leclerc it’s disney of course i’m not ↳ yourusername not the disney slander 🥲 leclerc_pascale Très mignon! / very cute ↳ arthur_leclerc n’est-ce pas ☺️ / aren’t they just

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y/nsart i’m so excited to announce that four of my paintings from the ‘flow’ exhibition will be going on sale at monaco fine art auction next week! thank you so much to everyone who’s supported me and my art in the past few months. it means the world to me 🩵

if you’re interested in bidding for any of these paintings, don’t hesitate to stop by monte carlo sales hall between 12 and 2:30pm! hopefully i’ll see you guys there 🌊

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username i wish i had the money to buy these 🥲 but i’m broke lols x

username the one on the third slide looks so real omg

charles_leclerc i’ll be there 🫡

y/nsart you say that like you have a choice 😭 i need you there for moral support

charles_leclerc whatever you want, chérie x

username charles stop simping on main challenge

leclerc_pascale Je suis si fière de toi, ma fille ❤️ / so proud of you, my girl

y/nsart je n'ai encore rien vendu, ne parlez pas trop vite 😭 / i haven’t sold anything yet, don’t speak too soon

leclerc_pascale Vous le ferez 😊 / you will

username so excited!!

username oh my god these are beautiful 😍

username you’re so talented �� did you study art at university?

y/nsart yes! i studied at the sorbonne in paris :)

username your art style is incredible! i’ve been painting for 3 years but i still can’t quite capture this kind of realism like you 🥲

y/nsart oh trust me it’s taken a long time to perfect 😅 keep going and discovering your own unique art style! i promise it will all come together sooner than you think 💕

username oh my gosh thank you so much 🥹

username i bet charles is sobbing rn because he knows he can never bag a talented queen like y/n 🙄

username so true bestie

username he’s just a simp for her like the rest of us 😔

username the way she’s drop dead gorgeous, an artistic genius, and like the nicest person in the entire world 🤩🤩 bitches wish they were y/n

username ‘bitches’ aka me

arthur_leclerc alright maybe you’re not so bad at this painting stuff 🙄

y/nsart THANK YOU arthur

username is he only just realising this now? 😭

y/nsart he’s still convinced he’s better than me (the only thing he can draw is a 2 dimensional car)

arthur_leclerc did you really have to expose me like that 😃

username PLEASE 😭

username i remember when charles first got into f1 and people used to say y/n only got so much attention for her art because she was friends with him. this is the biggest fuck you to those so called ‘fans’ who hated on her and i am LIVING FOR IT

*charles_leclerc and y/nsart liked this comment

➜ part 3

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ohtobeleah · 4 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Three: [V For Vendetta]

Summary: When your stomach can’t handle the Chemo medication, you empty the content of your stomach. While doing so, you and Jake come to a crossroads about your relationship going forward.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/SMUT 18+ content. Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4:5k

Author Note: EEEPPPP! It’s like watching a car wreck happen right before your very eyes. You want to but you can’t look away!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Shhh—I don’t want the kids to hear.” The palm of your hand came down softly on top of Jake's lips as you straddled his waist, you couldn't help but to rock your hips back and forth as the very tip of his hardened length kissed your cervix. Jake's entire length throbbed inside your sex at the slightly mean but even hotter act. “Stop being so loud, we aren’t in some navy issued apartment where you and your STD riddled conquests can be as loud as you wanna be.”

As soon as the kids were in bed and sleeping, you and Jake were running back to your bedroom like giddy teenagers. You led him down the hall hand in hand and even before you had your bedroom door open, Jake had his hands all over you pushed up against the hallway wall that hung family photos. Including but not limited to a few of your wedding pictures.

“Mmm.” Jake licked a long strip up the palm of your hand before he took control of the situation and flipped the two of you over. Now he was the one on top but his perfect view hadn’t changed, you were still the star of the show whether you were riding him or under him.

“Ew! Jake, don't be disgusting!”

“It was not even five minutes ago that I was down between your thighs using the same tongue I just liked your hand with to make you moan.” Jake teased as he leaned in to kiss the sweet spot on the junction of your next. Your back arched at the sensation of your ex’s slow but steady thrusts. The small but audible whimper that escaped your lips had Jake smiling against your skin. “You needy girl.” He’d missed you, missed your touch, your taste, your beautiful orgasmic sounds.

“Some of us haven’t been whoring around—“ You sighed as Jake's hands roamed your exposed body, the feeling of roughed palms against your hips sent shivers down your spine.

“No, no some of us just use their husbands credit card to buy new sex toys—“ What else was a girl supposed to do? You still had needs, needs that weren’t gonna be met with fingers alone.

“Ex husband.” You felt the need to reiterate. Jake's thrusts sped up slightly, giving you a little more as your nails dug deeper into the muscles that littered his back. “Ahh fuck! and you left it here for me to use.”

“Can those toys of yours make you feel this way?” Jake groaned as his thrusts began more intent filled, he was a man with a plan, an end goal—to get you off. “Use your words Honey, be a good girl for me.”

It had been too long, far too long since you’d felt the touch of a man. Especially your man. The pad of Jake's thumb pressed softly into the bundle of exposed nerves that were perfectly swollen and throbbing just for him. He felt you tense at the overwhelming sensation, the feeling of utter euphoria mixed with the light hearted banter that was you and Jake. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you, but not until you say please.”

“I—“ It was getting harder to formulate sentences as the wave of impending pleasures rolled in, you were right on the cusp. “Jake I—“

“You want me to make you cum don’t you?” All you could do was nod desperately. “Ohh baby girl look at you all fucked out, so far gone.”

“Please!” Jakes hand came down the press itself against your mouth as he fucked you into the mattress. His hips slammed against your with so much need and lust he swore the both of you would have matching wounds to lick in the morning, when regret set in the the haze cleared.

“Shhh—that’s my girl, cum for me, we don’t want the kids hearing how much of a needy little thing you are for me.” Oh this mother fucker.

“Ahhhh fuck fuck fuck I’m cu-coming!” It was barely a sentence but from behind his palm Jake could understand what you were saying. He watched as your eyes rolled and your body tensed and your velvet walls clamped down around him. “Jake!”

“I’ve got you Honeybee, I’ve got you.” Jake groaned as he followed right behind you, his length twitch as the all too familiar sensation of that pool forming at the base of his shaft overwhelmed him. “I’m with you—ohhhh fuckk Y/n, yesss!”

Jake landed right on top of you as he came down from his high, completely spent. His sweaty locks tickled your nose as you peppered kisses to the very top of his head.

“We should shower.” You broke the silence that had filled your dimly lit bedroom.

“Is that an invitation?” Jake queried as he lifted his head from your bare chest.

“If you’re up for it.” You replied through a loving smirk. Jake couldn’t help but to capture your lips in a headed but loving kiss. He missed you so much.

“Oh I’m up for it.” He cooed against your lips, just trying to savour every fleeting moment he knew this was. This moment of weakness. “I'm so up for it.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I wanna marry you.” You could still remember the words Jake spoke in the library the day you tried to break off whatever it was the two of you had become in college. It was early on in your blooming relationship, but you had your doubts. You had heard rumours he was no good, trouble if you will. That Jake was just this gloating self assured, arrogant guy who liked to throw a football around and take girls back to his dorm room to fuck and forget.

“I wanna have kids with you.” You’d tried to let him down gently by telling him that it wasn't him, but you. And by all accounts the break up, if that's what you could even call it, went rather well. Until Jake Seresin showed up at your dorm rooms two days later after he’d practically stalked you around campus like some lost, love sick puppy you'd dumped in the rain.

“I wanna build us a house, settle down, and grow old with you.” Jake's words were still there inside your mind as your eyelids flickered from the early morning light that threatened to consume your bedroom. The bedroom you shared with your ex husband last night.

“I wanna die when I'm one hundred and ten years old, in your arms.” Jake held you close and pressed up against his exposed chest as he slept soundly beside you. Strong arms encapsulated your torso as you woke, threatening to keep you hostage for the foreseeable future because if there was one thing about Jake you could never forget, it was his ability to press snooze over and over and over again until he had about five minutes to shit shower and shave.

“I don't want this to just be a fling, I want a lifetime with you.” It was ironic really that you were remembering that moment as bile rose in the back of your throat because with your odds? You didn't have a lifetime to give him anymore. Regardless of your current separation. Your life was slipping through the metaphorical hands of time every day that passed.

“Oh god–” You couldn't stop it once the feeling started, the overwhelming urge to expel whatever reminisce remained in your stomach from dinner. You didn't have time to worry if you woke Jake up, you didn't have time to sneak out of his warm embrace, all you had time to do was rush to your ensuite and drop to your knees at your toilet before it was too late.

“Y/n?” You heard Jake grumbled as he stirred at the sudden loss of your presence, he hadn’t slept so soundly in months. Having you tucked up against him still brought a solace that was unparalleled to anything Jake could ever dream of. “Honey? You alright?” All Jake was met with was the sound of violent coughing accompanied soon after by the gut wrenching sound of vomit hitting the porcelain bowl of your ensuite toilet. “Oh my god—“

Jake was up within seconds, the covers that barely covered his body were thrown to the side as he jumped out of your bed in just a pair of boxer briefs he’d thrown on after your sexcapades last night. They did very little to prevent your imagination from running wild with delight and lust as he came into your ensuite, you may have been feeling unwell but Jake had an adonis like body he wasn’t shy about.

“I’m fine—“ Was all you managed out before you were heaving again, your hands gripped either side of the toilet bowl like your life depended on it.

“Here,” Jake cooed as he kneeled down behind you only to hold your hair with one hand so it wouldn’t get caught in the trajectory of your sick and rubbed small soothing circles against your back. “Maybe Lucy was right, you have been sick?” Jake couldn’t help but to frown as he watched you empty the content of your stomach into the toilet for another five minutes. Jake's mind wandered back to all the times he’d done the same thing as he was now when you were pregnant with the twins, with Sammy.

“I’m fine—“ You sighed as you reached up to flush the toilet and wipe your mouth with some toilet paper. “Totally fine, I just—I don’t even know what it is, but I feel better now.” You couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough for your body's sudden urge to throw up. You knew exactly what it was through, the oral chemo. Those nasty little fuckers had you throwing up all day most days. “I’ll see a doctor when I get back, before the kids come home.”

“Are you sure you still wanna go?” Jake asked as you sat back against the wall with him. “I mean, you could always come with us? Spend it with family, especially if you’re not feeling one hundred percent.” It was an enticing offer, especially since you weren’t actually going on a holiday, but rather into hospital for possible life saving surgery.

“The trips paid for, I have to go.” You sighed miserably into Jake's shoulder as he comforted you. “Besides, I’m pretty sure your mums still holding a grudge against me for wanting to separate.”

“I’m still holding a grudge against you for that.” You reacted quickly to Jake’s witt and slapped his chest. “Ow!” He groaned playfully as you chuckled softly and shook your head. “I’m kidding, I'm kidding—“ Jake cooed as he watched you bring your knees up to your chest. “But can I ask you something?”

“Depends on the question.” You mumbled as you pressed your forehead against Jake's shoulder. Still trying to find some comfort as lightheadedness threatened to consume you.

Jake didn’t reply right away, he simply looked to his left a little and caught the sight of the pair of you sitting side by side on the bathroom floor. He’d spent so many nights trying to think of ways to fix things, to fix what he accidentally and unintentionally broke. But right now, after spending the night with you, being back with the kids he loved so dearly and remembering what it was he truly needed in order to be the man he wanted to be? Jake knew he needed to ask.

“If there’s a guy—“

“Oh god Jake—“ You groaned at the idea. He was the one who’d slept with other people, not you. At least you had the decency to keep your nights out of sight. The only rumours Jake would have known were the ones he concocted on his own accord about your hips and thighs and your whispered sighs. Oh god you couldn’t even begin to imagine what his wildest dreams had been imagining about what you’d been up to during your separation.

Because there were no other men. It was simply Jake.

There had been far too many nights where you thought about jumping off of very tall somethings, just to see him come running and say the one thing you’d been wanting. But no. Jake never came, not since March when Coyote told you about Jake’s first air to air kill. The kill he still hadn’t told you about yet.

“I need you to know that I’m trying here, to fix my mistakes.”

“There’s nothing to fix Jake—“ You knew that this was a bad idea, that last night was a bad idea. That ever letting Jake believe there was any chance of reconciliation to be achieved in your marriage was a mistake. “We separated because our marriage wasn’t working, we’re no good together.”

“That’s ass and you know it.” Jake replied rather sharply as you raised your head from his shoulder. “We were good together, we are good together, you just don’t wanna admit that this whole separation was a mistake because you still love me just as much as I love you.”

“You just aren’t a good husband Jake!” The tone you chose to use had Jake shutting up rather quickly. Perhaps you were a little too harsh, but the hope you saw in his eyes was killing you. “I left because you didn’t love me enough to put me first.” You frowned as you tried to read Jake's facial expression.

Surely this wasn’t a new revelation to him, he knew, right? He knew that although he loved you in his own way, Jake stopped putting you first when he figured out how high he could really climb in his career. Jake stopped putting you first when he saw his potential, his ability to be the best and nothing but. He stopped putting you first when Lenny and Lulu were born, and again when Sammy accidentally came along. He stopped putting you second and third and fourth until you weren’t ever the priority in any situation.

“I need one more chance to show you how good of a husband I can be.” Jake nearly begged. “Just one—“

“You had ten whole years to get it right and you couldn’t do it, what makes you think one more chance is gonna miraculously solve the fact that you’re just not the type of person who should have a wife?” Part of you wanted to walk away till he really listened, you needed to be able to look into Jake's eyes and know that the two of you were feeling different.

Jake Seresin had been told he was a lot of things. A bad friend, a good pilot, the family disappointment. He’d been told once by a supervising officer that if he didn’t have a family, maybe he’d fly less conservative, be better, take more risks. That same officer sent him to Miramar for the Dagger mission that same year when he heard through the grapevine of your separation.

Jake had been told he was a catch, sex on legs, the life of the party and the guy any girl would be lucky to go home with. But he already had his girl, the meek library dweller who tried to break up with him in college. The woman who birthed his three children, his best friend, you.

So the worst thing Jake Seresin had ever been told he was? Was that he was without a doubt a shitty husband. And the worst part about being told that was it came from you, the woman he loved, his wife.

“So divorce me if I’m such a crap fucking husband Y/n!” Jake hissed. “It’s almost been an entire year and I don’t know where I stand with you?” He argued as you tried to fight off the urge to throw up again. “I can’t stay separated from you anymore, I can’t keep acting like the love of my life didn’t leave me, I can’t keep telling myself that you’ll come back, I can’t keep telling myself that you won’t find someone else who deserves you more than I do, I need you to tell me it’s over so I can move on!”

“I—“ You wanted to blurt it out then and there as you tried to stand from the tiled bathroom floor. Jake, even in his fit or very understandable rage, reached out to help you. Even if he was a shitty husband he was still a pretty good friend. “I have—“ You wanted to tell him, tell Jake you were dying. Tell him that this time around it actually wasn’t him, but you. Hell maybe if you weren’t riddled with cancer you might even consider that one more chance he wanted so desperately. But as you stood to your feet and Jake stood to his, you saw the half packed suitcase of yours on the floor next to your bed. The suitcase you were taking to the hospital right after you watched Jake and your kids leave for the holidays. The Christmas holidays you were missing:

Because you were fighting Cancer and Jake didn’t know.

“I have to finish packing.” You sighed and settled with that. As you looked into Jake's eyes you could physically see the heartbreak mixing in with the emerald green. “Maybe we can organise divorce lawyers after the holidays, keep it civil, for the kids.”

Jake remained silent as he just looked at you, his wife, telling him that yes, divorce was on the horizon after all. He just stood there in utter defeat knowing that what had become of your marriage was his own fault. You tried all you could for as long as you could before you had to let him go.

“Just tell me his name at least.” Jake gritted his teeth. “When you find him.” You could tell Jake was holding back tears as he reached out to cup your cheek. “The guy who doesn’t fuck it up.”

“There’s not gonna be another guy.” You quietly replied as you leaned into Jake's touch. “I just need to put myself first for once and be happy with my own company.” Jake nodded like he understood but you knew deep down he didn’t believe you. The kiss he left on your forehead told you that.

“I’m gonna go get the kids up.” He explained as he cleaned his throat. “I’ll let you finish packing for your trip.” You let Jake turn on his heels and watched as he pulled those same grey sweatpants up his legs before you called his name quietly.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?” He replied sadly, like he had no fight left to give. There was an understanding between the two of you in that moment that this was truly the end, that whatever the two of you still were or were holding onto, that it had come to an end.

“I’m sorry.” You pressed your lips together in an attempt not to cry, but Jakes saw your tears. He saw them looking in your lower lash line.

“Me too.” Was all Jake replied before he left your room, leaving you alone with your own emotions and thoughts to try and calm yourself down knowing that whatever was to come would never hurt as much as officially losing the love of your life.

***~***~***~***~***~

“Here you go baby, Jam toast.” For what’s it worth, you and Jake tried hard to keep things as normal as they could be for the kids, so when you finally made your way downstairs after showering and getting yourself ready, he was waiting with a coffee made for you like you didn’t just rip his heart from his chest and gutter stomp it into the carpet.

“Hi mama.” Sam cooed as you walked over to where he sat on Jake’s lap being fed fingers of soggy jam toast.

“Hi baby boy!” You smiled bright at your youngest and touched his nose with the tip of your finger. “Did you sleep okay? Are you so excited to go to grandmas today?” All little Sammy did was nod and eat his toast, Jake bounced him gently on his knee at the dining table, enjoying the moment with his son. “Where’s thing one and thing two?” You asked as you noticed the quiet lull that filled the kitchen and dining room. Lucy and Lennox were nowhere to be seen.

“They’re still getting ready.” Jake shrugged your concern off. He didn’t even bother to look at you as you took the coffee he’d made for you and took a sip. “Said they’d be down soon.”

“Well we can’t let them mess around for too much longer, we need to get you guys off to the airport.” It was meant to be a simple statement, a conversation between adults about the appropriate time to arrive at the domestic terminal for Jake’s flight to Huston. But it wasn’t that.

“Yeah—“ Jake rolled his eyes as Sammy asked for more soggy jam toast. “Like you said last night right, you just can’t wait to get me out of the house.”

“Jake—don’t be this way.” You couldn’t say you were surprised that Jake had changed up his attitude so quickly, but you were a little shocked he was acting this way in front of Sam. Sure he was only two but it still felt wrong.

“I’m not being a way.” Jake still didn’t look at you, he couldn’t. If he looked at you he was gonna lose his mind.

“You’re acting like we’ve already signed divorce papers!” You hissed through gritted teeth and under your breath just in case your two other children came running down the stairs.

“Well, I can't keep acting like you’re my wife now can I?” Jake could be petty if he wanted to, he once went four days without speaking to Phoenix purely because she said she reckons he can’t fuck for shit. Truth was he hadn’t had a fuck since January, truth was he took someone home that same night. Truth was he called out your name when he came and turns out Vanessa could throw a pretty hard punch.

“Doesn’t mean you have to revert back to being Hangman, Hangman.” You mumbled under your breath but knew Jake heard you. You knew because for the first time since you came downstairs he finally looked at you.

“What did you just call me?” Jake hissed as he stood up, he held Sam on his hip as he stepped towards you with a stern look on his face. “What the hell did you just call me?”

“You, heard, me, want me to say it again?” You remembered the day your husband came home and told you he got his callsign. Some jerkoff by the name of Bradley Bradshaw had been assigned to be his wingman. Jake had given him his callsign, Rooster, because he thought the guy was full of chicken shit.

But Bradley had landed Hangman after a particularly rough training session where Jake had left Bradley behind, in a real situation he would have died. And thus the Hangman was born. It was needless to say the two didn’t see eye to eye most of the time.

“Kids!!” Jake shouted loud enough for you to jump as his voice echoed off the walls. He saw the look in your eye, the uncertainty of what the two of you were doing. So Jake stepped back, offered you a soft lipped silent apology and waited for you to silently tell you that you were good. “Get down here now! we’re leaving!”

***~***~***~****~***~***

The airport was just as busy as it had been yesterday, only this time instead of waiting for Jake to join you and the kids, he was taking them with him, back to his mum's house for Christmas.

You’d never spent Christmas away from your kids before so it was understandable that you were a little upset, but Jake saw the way your hands shook as you kneeled down before Lenny to fix his jumper.

“You be so good for your dad, alright?” You cooed as you rubbed your nose against his. “And make sure you keep an eye on your sister and brother on the farm.”

“I wish you were coming with us mum.” Lucy added as she jumped on your back and clung to you with her arms around your shoulders.

“I know baby I know, but I packed a few presents in your bags from me and dad and Santa will know where you are too.” Jake had an extra duffel full of all the toys your kids would be receiving this year, plus any extra they received from Jake’s side of the family. You knew Janeen and Rodney would go overboard as always.

“Enjoy your holiday mum!” Lucy giggled in your ear as you hugged her arms.

“I will baby I will, and I’ll miss you all so much!”

“We better head off.” Jake hesitantly interrupted. He didn’t want to come across as if he was trying to hurry the goodbye along. Knew how important it was for you to say goodbye, even if he thought it was an unnecessary one. You should have been spending Christmas with them.

“No—No you’re right, you guys better hurry along now or else you’ll miss your flight.” You tried to hide your sadness as you rose to your feet. “Bye my little guy.” You cooed to Sammy as he sucked his thumb and let his head rest against Jake's shoulder. “Seeya Daddio, take care of them will you?”

“Don’t stress, I’ve got them Honey.” Jake reminded you softly as he brought you in for your own goodbye. He had no idea how much that one act of kindness meant to you. The last touch of a man who would never know what you were about to go through and already going through. “Alright kiddos, let’s roll out!” He smiled as you let go and watched your family head further into the airport. Lucy was the only one who looked back at you to see you waving as they disappeared into the crowd.

It was only when you lost sight of your little family did you finally allow yourself to break. With a hand over your mouth you sobbed quietly to yourself before you turned to head back to the car.

“You’re on your own now.” In a 2009 research paper titled Gender disparity in the rate of partner abandonment in patients with serious medical illness, a study was conducted out of a pool of five hundred and fifteen married people suffering a vast array of serious medical illnesses.

Out of those five hundred and fifteen participants, fifty three percent were female and the other forty seven percent were men. What researchers found over the course of this particular study was that the gender disparity when dealing with divorce was that twenty one percent of women diagnosed with chronic or serious illnesses were being divorced by their husbands, while men were only around the three percent mark.

You were handed that pamphlet in the same doctor's appointment where you were told you had stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. It was something oncologists had started adopting rather recently as those rates had risen rather rapidly since 2009.

Good thing you had already separated from your husband prior to your diagnosis huh?

“You’re all on your own.”

***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun fan fiction #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin

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the-kr8tor · 9 months

Text

Pin my Heart

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Sexual innuendos, FLUFF.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

Main Masterlist

Thread the Needle Masterlist

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2

Shielding yourself from the harsh rain with your windbreaker, you bravely wade through it, with one objective - convince Hobie to be your partner and model for your final project. The entire day you've been thinking if he still owes you a favour that you can maybe cash in, and you've got the perfect one. You think at least, You never know with Hobie really. You'd think after more than ten years of being friends, you can get a read on him, but alas he's quite unpredictable, maybe that's why you like him so much, he still has a few surprises up his leather sleeves even after years of friendship.

The loud music coming from Hobie's and his roommates' garage acts as a beacon for you to follow through the downpour.

Entering the band's domain, you wave at them since they wouldn't even hear your greeting with the loud music they're playing. You watch Hobie do his guitar solo as you wrangle your wet windbreaker off you, used to the loud music, you watch his long fingers expertly play with the guitar. You catch yourself staring, so you turn around to hang your soaking windbreaker on an empty shelf, using this excuse to hide your flustered state.

Hobie finishes his solo and you turn back around, avoiding the knowing stares from his bandmates.

"There's our number one fan!" Hobie screams, his ears still ringing from the loud guitar riffs, adrenaline still rushing through him.

"Hey, everyone" you awkwardly greet.

"Hi, shy girl!" Hobie gives you a hug, knowing he's all sweaty from rocking out.

You try to avoid his hug by putting your arms towards him, "Hobie! You're all sweaty! Stop!"

"Look who's talking! You're also wet!"

"Yeah! from the rain, not sweat, asshole!" You try to push him off, but he's too strong, damn him and his strong arms.

He hugs you fully, putting all his weight on you, chin on top of your shoulder, his breath tickles the shell of your ear. "How's your day?" The ringing in his ears finally stops, and he can finally talk without screaming at you.

"It would've been good, if I didn't get Hobie sweat all over me" you huff, leaning away so that Hobie couldn't hear your heart beat quickening.

"Don't act like you don't like it, sweets" he winks at you, releasing you from his grip, but he keeps his hands on your shoulders, you're an arms length away from him. He stares at you, head tilted to the side.

Yuri, their new drummer pipes up, she clears her throat, getting both your attention from eachother. "I'm making Tea, y/n you want some?"

"Yes please, thanks Yuri" You smile at the raven haired sweetly.

They all pile out of the garage, as Hobie manually closes the gate. He reaches up to grab the handle to pull it down, his shirt rides up, you ogle at the exposed skin on his hip. For the second time that day you look away immediately, finding the discarded drum kit more interesting than Hobie's toned back.

The loud crash of the gate closing signals you to look back at Hobie. A chill runs through your body, you wrap your arms around your shivering form.

"Shit, you're gonna catch a cold, let's get you warm, yeah?" Hobie rubs your arms. He grabs your backpack from the floor, and then slings his precious guitar on his back. Hobie leads you inside the house.

The house seems to be much cleaner than the last time you visited, probably thanks to Yuri. The warm aromatic smell of the tea hits you like a truck, you sneeze at the sudden change of smell, or it might just be from the rain soaking you.

"Bless you!" Ned, the band's bassist, yells from the living room.

"Thanks Ned" You sniff.

"C'mon, let's get you dry, don't want you getting sick on me now" Hobie hugs your shoulder with his free arm.

"That was one time, Hobart" you glare at him. He snickers at your comment.

You two stand in front of his door covered in various punk band stickers. He leads you in by your shoulders, and sits you down on the bed.

"I like the new song" you say as Hobie plugs in the portable heater, then places it in front of your shivering form.

"Thanks, we've been working on it for a while" he grabs a towel from his drawer, while rummaging through it for a clean shirt, he tosses the towel on your head.

"Is this even clean?" You get a whiff of soap from the towel, answering your question.

"I'm not a barbarian" Hobie takes off his shirt, before you could ogle at him once more, instead you watch the light on the heater flicker. It's not the first time you've seen him shirtless, so why are you feeling so flustered right now? "What do you wanna do today? Can't go out though 'cause of the rain"

"Can I ask you for a favour?" You try to be blunt, so you could get it over with, wrapping yourself in the towel.

Hobie leans against the door, hands on his hips, he's now wearing a grunge long sleeved shirt that's too big on his shoulders, you see a peek of his skin from the various tears of the shirt.

"Ah, already cashing in the favour I asked you last night?" He raises his pierced brow.

"Yeahh? It's - I need your help" You look at Hobie, determination in your eyes.

"Are you in some kind of trouble? Knew you had it in you" he smirks.

"No, it's not that, I need your help for my final project"

Hobie remembers the tea waiting for you, "hold that thought" he leaves the room, you try to call him back in, but he continues towards the kitchen, you huff but you still follow closely behind. There goes the privacy of convincing him.

Yuri, Ned and their other band mate, James stop their conversation in the kitchen when they see you both walk in.

"Alright, what kind of project?" He questions your intentions, while preparing your tea, your preferred mixture practically ingrained in his mind.

You swallow your nerves, "It's nothing too big really, I - no, we need to create a look that encompasses us both, and for you to model it in front of my class?" The end of your sentence unintentionally sounded like a question.

Hobie stops from pouring milk on your tea, you can't see the growing smirk on his face. You snuggle the towel closer to you. His housemates sip their tea simultaneously.

Hobie stirs your drink wordlessly. He composes himself, turns back towards you, still stirring your drink dramatically. He looks like a Bond villain who can't wait to tell you his master plan.

"What's in it for me?" There it is. He sips your drink loudly, knowing that he's annoying you with the sound.

He doesn't even like milk in his tea, you thought, you bite your tongue from saying it out loud, you need to sweeten him up, so you try playing the nice card.

"What do you want?" Saying it through gritted teeth, trying to give him your best smile, you probably look like you're in pain though.

"Hmm, let me think" he taps the teaspoon against the mug, it clinks against the ceramic, he then brings it to his mouth with a loud slurp, releasing it with a pop. He's doing this on purpose, you cringe at the sound.

"How about I do your laundry for a month?" You negotiate.

"Nah, I can do my own laundry"

"I'll wash your motorbike every month for the rest of the year" you counter.

"Y'know I never let anyone else touch my baby"

His band mates' heads move from Hobie back to you, like they're watching a tennis match.

"Ok, um I'll buy you a new guitar then!" Gotcha you finally got him, hook, line and sinker.

Hobie hums at that "hmm, tempting, but no"

Frustrated at his lack of cooperation, "You know what fine, James," you turn towards his equally punk friend, "you wanna do it with me instead?" You should have worded that out better.

Hobie widens his eyes at the unintentional innuendo, he smiles at the opportunity, "Hey! No! I'm the only one you can do it with!"

His friends snicker, James looks at you with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Maybe you can ask Yuri, She might be more of your type." Ned teases.

Yuri winks at you. They laugh, Hobie looks at you through his mug with a smile, watching your reaction.

"Guys, really? You're a child, Hobie" You cross your arms over your chest.

"Wait, I've got an idea" Yuri runs off to her room before you could question her.

You and Hobie stare at each other, while he drinks your tea.

"You're lactose intolerant, you're gonna shit yourself later" you grin at him.

"I have lactaid," he says matter-of-fact.

Yuri comes back and gives you a card. "Here"

"What's this? A business card?" You ask.

"Oi, are you actually trying to get a lawyer involved?"

"Yeah, a divorce lawyer, with how you both are acting like you're married" Yuri sarcastically says.

"It's a rewards card from starbucks?" You show Hobie.

Hobie comes closer to see, you both look at Yuri questioningly.

"Since Hobie here can't figure out what to ask of you in exchange for his cooperation with your thing," Yuri points to the both of you. "I figured you both need a rewards system. You poke out a hole in the card every time Hobie wants you to do something for him"

You look at the card with ten logos you can poke out, words printed neatly on top 'buy ten drinks and get a free one!' you look at the back - it expired a year ago.

"So he can ask for ten things then?"

"That's right, better than what you were suggesting, and you can keep track of it all," Yuri adds.

"Nah, I don't think this is better" Hobie declines.

"Do you have any better ideas, genius? Or do you want us to keep going back and forth" you shove the card in his free hand.

"Fine, say pretty please first, lovey" Hobie walks closer to you, the tips of your sock clad toes kisses his bare ones with how close you two have gotten. He looks down at you with a smile.

If you didn't like Hobie so much you would've asked James or any of his punk friends. Honestly you just want an excuse to spend more time with him. With how busy your schedule is, the same goes for Hobie, compared to when you were younger, you two barely hung out this year.

Hobie hopes this project of yours makes you two closer than ever, he also hopes when you finally graduate you get to finally hang out more, but it's a stretch.

You exhale, you look up at him through your eyelashes, "Pretty please, Hobie" you say sweetly. You don't break eye contact, you're not going down without a fight "with cherry on top?" You bat your lashes for added effect.

With how pretty you look up at him, Hobie's breath hitches in his throat, he tries to play it cool though, so he lightly shoves his mug on your chest, signaling his defeat.

You take the mug to your lips, and sip victoriously. You lean against the kitchen island.

"Does that mean I'm out of the picture then" James says, you all look at him unsure if he's joking or if he actually means it.

"Come off it, mate" Hobie shuts him down.

—

You're sweating bullets, wringing your fingers over the other, you wonder where in the world is Hobie? You sneak glances over your classmates and their chosen partners.

You see Flash next to a bombshell of a woman- all high heels, and manicured nails. Compared to his sporty style, he chose well. But judging from how the woman picks at her nails, and sighing every now and then, she definitely did not want to be there.

Your other classmates also chose well, the differences between their partners a stark contrast to each other.

Then there's you, sitting alone, without a partner. You busy yourself by sketching out a prototype of your project, instead of letting your thoughts freak you out.

The creaky doors open, like nails on a chalkboard. You stop in your tracks, head perking up at the sound, is it Hobie?

Your hope fades when your professor's heels echo around the room.

I'm gonna kill him, you internally curse.

Your professor looks around the room, her nose held up high. She opens her mouth to speak—

The door opens in a loud bang, the familiar leather boots strides in nonchalantly.

You would've sighed in relief, if not for Mrs. Williams glaring at Hobie.

"Sorry I'm late, teach" Hobie's hands are tucked inside his leather jacket, your professor's eyes narrow as she looks him up and down.

His eyes zeroes in your form. He smiles lopsidedly, Mrs. Williams follows his gaze, sizing you both up, she finds your pale blue cardigan a glaringly obvious difference to Hobie's leather jacket.

Noticing eyes on both of you, you give Hobie a shy smile, waving to get his ass over to your station.

The various metal on his clothes swing loudly, grabbing attention from everybody else who wasn't already looking your way. You cringe at the unwanted attention.

"Hey, love" Hobie gives his signature smirk.

"You're late!" You whisper-shout.

"Y'know how much I hate waking up early"

"It's half past eleven, Hobie"

"I'm here now aren't I?" He raises a pierced eyebrow.

You would've scolded him more if it weren't for your professor, glaring daggers in your direction.

"Looks like you all partnered up well" Mrs. Williams says plainly "ready your photographs" as she strides up to the nearest station.

"What photograph?" Hobie mimics your professor's cadence.

You elbow him to stop, just in case Mrs Williams has super hearing.

"This picture" you show him a polaroid tucked inside your sketchbook.

Hobie grabs it carefully, it shows you both two years ago, you're smiling widely right next to Hobie as he slings his arm around your neck with his guitar on his back. Hobie grins at the camera as sweat drips on his face.

He chuckles at the memory "I remember this, battle of the bands, right?"

"Yeah, your band won second place" you point at the silver trophy that Hobie's holding in the photograph.

"Should've won though" he slides the picture back to you.

"Aww, still salty, huh"

He leans on your side of the table, hand on his chin "we were robbed, lovey"

"Mmhm, sure" you tease him, even though he's right.

From your peripheral you see your professor looking in your direction.

You swallow down your anxiety, leg bumping up and down, feeling a firm hand on your thigh, you stop, looking at Hobie, a comforting smile on his lips, but all you can give him is a tight lipped smile.

He rubs comforting circles over your thigh, leaning slightly towards you to whisper "it'll be alright, it's just an introduction, you've got this" you would be flustered at the contact, but your nervousness triumphs over it. Hobie shakes your leg, taking his hand back when the professor stops on your station.

She takes one look at the both of you, eyes darting between your forms, she watches as Hobie places an arm behind your chair, smirking at the woman.

You can feel the bead of sweat falling on your forehead, hands shaking.

Mrs. Williams extends a lithe hand to you, asking for the picture on your table. You quickly hand it over, you don't want to make her wait, fumbling a bit, scared to give her a papercut.

She flips the picture to face her, you try to read her reaction, but her straight face makes it hard for you to understand her emotion.

"Good" she hands it over to you after a quick scan of the picture.

"Thank you?" You hold the picture like it's your most precious possession (it is) you can't believe that you actually impressed her, not knowing that the word 'good' is even in her vocabulary.

She moves to the next student, Hobie leans back in his chair, looking at you through his lashes "good? That's it?" He watches as you look at the picture with stars in your eyes, disbelief on your pretty face, Hobie thinks he's gonna have a lot of fun with you in this project, before you inevitably leave him for greener pastures.

He sighs, trying to dampen his thoughts, he's not ready for you to leave his side yet. You've been through thick and thin with him for more than ten years, it's hard for Hobie to think of you not by his side. He's proud of you, truly, but he can't help feeling that you're gonna leave him behind for someone better. He wants to savor every last second with you.

Hobie flicks your cheek, trying to get your attention.

"Ow, what?" You whisper-shout.

"What're you gonna do after this?"

"I don't have other classes today, I guess just go back to the dorms and design?"

"That's loser talk" he pokes your cheeks, what is up with him and your cheeks these days? "Come with me after this snooze fest"

"Where to?" You swat at his hand.

"Somewhere" Hobie shrugs, leather jacket squeaking when he moves.

"Last time you said that, I had to haul your band's equipment, while you lot were blacked out drunk"

"I wasn't blackout drunk" he mimics your voice on the last two words, "I wasn't even drinking that much"

"You introduced me to Ned, I've known him for five years, Hobs"

"So? A reintroduction doesn't hurt?" He tries to play it off, fixing the collar of your shirt.

"Just promise me it's not a pub, I don't want to take care of drunk you again"

He grabs his chest, feigning hurt "I thought you liked taking care of me?"

"I do" his heart sings, you slap your palm over his chest, Hobie's hoping you don't feel the thudding of his chest. "I just don't like getting your sick all over my new trainers"

He winces at the memory, but he bounces back immediately "yeah, but I can't help getting sick over you" Hobie casually flirts, hoping you finally get the hint, ten years isn't too late, right?

You roll your eyes, used to his flirting "stop, my classmates could hear"

"Let 'em" He leans back in his chair, mission failed, he'll get you next time.

Mrs. Williams clasps her hands, one look from her gets the entire room quiet, Hobie doesn't seem fazed though, staring directly in her eyes.

"We'll reconvene next week with your sketches and fabric samples, your partners included. Is that understood?"

A collective "yes ma'am" can be heard from her students, even some of the non-students say it. Hobie mockingly salutes in her direction, you're horrified, good thing she missed it though.

"Hobie!" You say through gritted teeth, grabbing his half raised arm.

"What? She didn't even see" he stands up, heavy boots thudding on the linoleum floors. "C'mon then" Hobie beats you to your backpack, waiting hand stretched towards you.

You hear shuffled feet, your classmates and their partners slowly file out of the room.

"Where are we going?" You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, he's being too nice.

"Told you, somewhere nice"

"Not a pub?"

"Not a bloody pub, it's too early anyway" he flexes his fingers, beckoning you over, "don't make me exercise my rights"

You chuckle "what?"

"The bloody card"

"You want to use one, for this?" You wave the rewards card after grabbing it from your pocket "must be some place important" you tease him.

"Yes, now give me the bloody thing" Hobie snatches it from your fingers, punching out the logo, you see it float down on the table. He hands it back to you, tucking it safely inside your pocket.

"Ooohh one down nine to go" you finally stand up.

"Let's go before they close" He slings his arm over your shoulders.

"Are we taking your bike?"

"Of course, I'm not letting you ride the tube, don't worry I brought your helmet"

"You're such a softie, y'know"

"Yeah, yeah" only for you, he wanted to add, maybe next time he gets to finally say it to you.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it, as always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

#thread the needle #thread the needle chapter 1 #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #fanfic

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lady-eris · 9 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could make a Dbz android17, Goku, Vegeta, Gohan and trunks with a reader who’s exactly like misturi from demon slayer ( I’m not sure if I wrote it correctly)

my idiot self almost deleted the ask XD i was so excited to write this I almost deleted it, i didn't know if you meant personality, or stength and eating or anything else, but i basically decided to do it where the reader has there looks, but the personality and the abilities of Mitsuri

Tw/Notes?: slight description of fighting, profanities, mostly They/them pronouns, Trunks one is feminine hinted

Android 17

His foot was placed on a rock, watching as the poachers down below. They always seemed to bother him. "Again? surely the beating from last time would make them realise" He rolled his eyes, before hearing a voice. It seemed like a shout? His eyes narrowed as he scanned the men below, nothing. His audio picked up a sound from above and quickly looked up.

"Kya!" the voice shouted, jumping from the air and then posing as they landed on the ground. He almost sweat dropped, until he saw the men one bye one drop like fly's. Now just who are they? thought Android 17 it wasn't everyday you saw an average human defeat a bunch of poacher's with what seemed to be ribbon sword.

"you bitch!" one of the poachers wore as they raised their guns, before firing at them. But before the bullet could hit Android 17 quickly deflected it, and knocked the poacher out at the same time. it was child play.

"are you alright?/Will you be my boyfriend?" Android 17 paused, looking up at the taller person. They were strange, but a good strange.

Vegeta

He tsked as he looked up. He had been in a battle, and had almost had his head ripped from his spine. Almost, Just before the attack he felt arms curl around him, as the person carrying him jumped in the air. He opened his eyes, ready to shout at them feeling his pride damaged, only to quickly close them again. a bare chest/exposed. The person holding them had there chest/breast exposed. was the person holding him some harlot?!

But before he could say anything, they began to do an head twirling amount of somersaults and twists as they tried to avoid the attacks. Before landing on the ground. The dirt underneath them coming undone as they did this.

He was speechless (his ego being broken) as he was placed gently on the ground. "Don't worry! I can defeat him!" Vegeta watched them going back to fighting. were they royalty? surely they must of they were as beautiful as a god/goddess, and it seemed like they were trained by the highest of warriors.

he had been too distracted, and had only now come in to terms that they had just beaten the villain. That was HIS fight.

"woman! who are you?! and how dare you steal my fight!" Vegeta shouted, pushing himself up.

Son Goku

Goku sat on the chair (that was quite uncomfortable) as he stuffed his face with food, ordering more and more. The other people looked over in amazement. How could he eat so much? surely it should be impossible to eat that much without being sick, right? WRONG! for Goku was not like them!

"Wow! you eat a lot just like me!" An overly enthusiastic voice stated. "huh?" Goku asked, as he saw someone other then a server come over to talk to him. "can i sit down please?" Goku swallowed the rest of his food before nodding. "Yeah sure!" he stated, and they sat down with a large grin. He looked them over noticing, that they wore colourful clothing, with decorative design on it.

"OH! these look good! so do these! and these too! I'm (y/n) by the way!" They cheerfully said, calling the waitress over who then took there order.

"My nmaes Swon Gokuw" Goku said, speaking with his mouth full. "You have a lovely name Goku! i have a question for you!" Goku swallowed his food, as he waited for them to continue. "go on"

"Would you like to be my husband?"

Gohan

"can I sit here?" Gohan looked up from his spot, seeing someone with (main hair colour) and (secondary hair colour). "Oh! uh sure! Sorry give me a moment please!" He said, as he removed his bags from the chair besides him. They giggled taking the seat next to him.

"thank you!" they grinned, as they took their pen out. it was a pink colour, which had (Image) designs printed on it. Gohan watched from the corner of his eyes, as they stuck the tongue out from the corner of their lips, making there notes look cute. Everything about her was so cute.

"so what's your name? I'm (y/n)!" They asked, as they turned around placing the pen next to their notebook putting their hand out to shake his. He looked up, grabbing their hand and shaking it.

"I'm Gohan!"

"So Gohan, do you wanna go on a date with me?"

Trunks

Trunks screamed as he fell to the floor, his head looking up as that's all he could do his body was badly damaged, sore and bruised. He could only open one eye, as he watched what the villain was going to do.

"You bully! how could you harm someone as cute as him?" A voice shrieked, as suddenly the villain screamed, his arm being sliced off. Trunk's eyes widened as someone appeared in front of him. They were much taller then him, and had defined muscles. His face quickly blushed.

"Pink and green stripes" He muttered looking down. He had accidentally been flashed by the one in front of him. His face felt hot, but the sound of slashing brought him back into reality. They were in a battle, and he was watching the person in front of him fight better then he ever could.;

"i think I've got my first crush" They muttered, there cheeks blushing.

#dragon ball x reader #dbz x reader #android 17 x reader #goku x reader #gohan x reader #trunks x reader #vegeta x reader #mitsuri reader

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the-eeveekins · 23 days

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I love G-Witch's ending. While I do wish the journey had been longer, that we had gotten more time with the characters and the world, I would not change that destination. I still want it to end with Suletta saving her family at Quiet Zero.

"It's too happy, no one died!" I actually love this! Gundam has 45 years of bittersweet and occasionally downer endings. We can have one ending that is almost unambiguously a happy one. People always talk about finding non-violent solutions, about solving problems peacefully. And in a Gundam first, Suletta does that. She solves a violent situation with non-violence, and just this once, everybody lived!

"That was accomplished with bullshit space magic though!" Look, setting aside the fact that Bullshit Space Magic has been a part of Gundam since the original (and is often MORE bullshit in UC), this show is called The Witch From Mercury. If there was any Gundam series where Bullshit Space Magic saving the day and solving the problem is thematically appropriate and should not be an issue, it's this one.

"The bad guys lived and escaped jail!" I'm fine with this, especially since every good character survived too. And it's not like they didn't suffer any consequences. Miorine dissvolved the Benerit Group. Their empire is gone, along with their wealth and power. They may be free (for now), but they're definitely miserable. With Shaddiq's help, Miorine exposed the SAL's crimes, and considering the precarious position they were in previously, it's likely there was a major shake-up. The power structures in space were completely shaken up and changed, and much of it's power was transferred to Earth.

"What about Shaddiq?" Look, I definitely understand the contextual issues with Shaddiq being the only martyr. But in the show itself, Shaddiq accomplished his goals. He got to see the Benerit Group dissolved and their assets placed in the hands of Earthian companies, all without further violence. He secured the freedom of the women working for them, and importantly, they all now work for Miorine in her efforts to improve Earth and make reparations for Spacians. And as a last gift and blessing to Miorine and her new family, he took the fall for Quiet Zero while he was at it. Shaddiq may be imprisoned unlike the former BG members, but unlike them, he is a happy and satisfied man.

It's rare for the main characters in Gundam to enact massive, systemic change for the better, especially permanently. Amuro, Kamille and Judau did not change the world in any significant fashion. Their world was still mired in conflict after their reapective conflicts, to the point that Amuro dies in a later conflict and Judau gets so sick of things not changing for the better that he abandons Earth and later the solar system. Yet there is a lot of criticism that Suletta & Miorine didn’t solve all of Ad Stella's problems, that they did their part and peaced out. But their part was destroying the immediate threat of Gundams and Quiet Zero, they dismantled the Benerit Group power structure and put it in the hands of Earth and they exposed the SAL. They made huge changes to the world and they didn't stop. Miorine is still using her company to make amends for the BG's crimes and improve the lives of Earthians. Suletta has built a school on Mercury and is now building one on Earth. Even if they're not going to be fighting on the front lines, they're still fighting to make their world a better place.

That's not to say the ending is perfect. I don't think Nika should have spent 3 years in jail because of a guilty conscience and because Martin is a snitch. I don't think you should ruin the thematics of Suletta facing down and battling Quiet Zero by herself, but the part of me who loves to see giant robots fight wishes there could have been a way to involve the Demi-Barding, Pharact and Schwarzette in more action during the end. If not at QZ, then earlier in the series.

I personally believe a lot of the criticism of the ending boils down to preference, and people not preferring how G-Witch chose to end things, rather than those things being objectively bad. I think a lot of fans struggle to accept that G-Witch was trying to do something smaller, something different, and they still can't let go of wanting it to be something it never tried to be. Did it do what it wanted to do perfectly? Definitely not. It forgot what it was at points in S2 and I'd argue it actually cooked too good with it's background details, making people want more of something it never set out to do. But ultimately it was never trying to be a 50 episode war epic focused on the wider world. It was about these two girls and their families.

Suletta & Miorine's scene together in the wheat field on Earth is perhaps one of my favorite scenes in anime. Maybe in any media. I wouldn't trade that moment for anything short of their actual wedding.

#discussion and discourse over the ending has been swirling lately #and I'll always defend it #i love the ending and I'm passionate about it #oh let's keep going #these days that are like precious gemstones #I'm sure they'll go on #just like this just like this #g witch #the witch from mercury #gundam #g witch spoilers

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photo1030 · 1 year

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Leather and Lace - Chapter 15: Feelings Revealed

PART 1 - I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU

Summary: You finally confront Arthur about how you feel about him, and force him to make a decision, whether you are ready for the answer or not.

*This is a long one and will be broken up into multiple parts.

*Special thanks to the wonderfully talented @rivetingrosie4 for beta reading this for me.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

**This exquisite image comes from @kmartkiddieisle

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @plumbeeb @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know.

Arthur isn’t sure how it happened. He let his guard down, that’s for damn sure. Some bounty hunter had recognized him when you and Arthur were in Ourey last week. He had a tip that Arthur was in the area, but not sure exactly where. And as luck would have it, the hunter was in the saloon for a drink when he just happened to glance over his shoulder and see the very man he was looking for sitting at a table in the corner with a lady, chatting away without worry, like the world wasn't on his back.

Earlier this morning, Josiah Trelawny had come to the camp, asking if you could tend to one of the locals in need of medical attention. There still aren't too many doctors in this area, and this particular fellow is a friend of Josiah's. Dutch agreed to let you go, as long as you got paid for your trouble, of course. And, naturally, Arthur insisted that he be your escort.

After the two of you had made a brief stop in town for needed medical supplies, this bounty hunter spotted Arthur again. He followed the two of you at a distance, careful to not let Arthur catch on that he was being followed. The hunter patiently lingered in the woods that lined the house while you two tended to the sick individual. And once you had left the homestead, he tailed you and Arthur, waiting for the opportunity to take down one, Arthur Morgan.

And now, this bounty hunter has you as his hostage.

The clouds in the sky dance playfully around the sun, alternating sunlight and shadows upon the Earth's surface below as the three of you stand in the clearing. The bounty hunter pulls you tight against him as your hands clutch at his forearm, which has a vice-grip around your shoulders. He holds a well-used revolver to your head with the other. His hot breath carries across your neck and stinks of tooth-rot as his face hovers close to yours. You can feel his torso and hips dig into your backside and it makes your skin just crawl with repulsion.

But the hunter is not focused on you. He stares past your shoulder at the man who is his main target. A sneer of superiority crosses the hunter's lips, exposing his blackened and snaggled teeth. He triumphantly displays his upper hand to Arthur, elated that he has discovered the notorious outlaw's weakness. You.

You watch Arthur's expression turn from surprise at being snuck up on, to one of outrage. His jaw clenches, and you can see the muscles of his face twitch as he grits his teeth together. His beautiful blue eyes, always a beacon for you to stare into, have turned hard and icy gray. Arthur's shoulders square and set, seeming to add another few inches to his already intimidating stature. Although you have heard of how menacing Arthur Morgan can be, you have rarely seen it yourself in person. And it is a terrifying thing to witness. In fact, the last time you saw him this angry was the day the two of you met. And unfortunately, it was a similar scenario then, as well.

"Let her go," Arthur grits out in a low, calm voice. "She ain’t got nothing to do with this."

But the bounty hunter only laughs at Arthur's request, as if it is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Since when do you give a damn about anyone else, Morgan? Hmmm?" And then the hunter's face changes to an exaggeratedly surprised expression as if he just had a profound realization. "Oooo, wait a minute now. You like this one, don’t you, Morgan?" He turns his face into yours just slightly, but keeps his steely eyes trained on Arthur. "I can see why. She’s real nice." He begins to rub his face along yours, taunting Arthur. "Nice and soft. Skin so pretty. It'd be a real shame if something were to happen to this face." His hand creeps up to cup under your chin, pulling your head back to him even tighter as he shoves the barrel of his gun harder into your temple, causing a quick and soft gasp to escape your dry lips.

Arthur's face contorts just slightly, breaking his cold exterior for just a fraction of a second. And in doing so, it reveals to the hunter that he has indeed hit a nerve, causing a smug smile to dance across his mouth.

"You best get your damn grimy hands off of her," Arthur threatens, his voice almost a growl now and his hands balling into fists of rage. "I ain't gonna tell you again." Arthur's warning sends shivers down your spine as you hear the words drop from his lips. His movements and tone are so slow and deliberate, with a menacing air that radiates off of his body so acutely that you almost do not recognize the man standing in front of you.

The bounty hunter just grins horribly and opens his mouth to drag his tongue along your cheek, further provoking Arthur. The act makes you close your eyes and whimper in disgust. You slowly open your eyes again and keep them on Arthur, not wavering from his gaze. You don’t cry or beg while being held by this pig, but remain perfectly still. The only thing that betrays your anxiety is how your body trembles ever so slightly from your broken breathing.

Arthur can clearly see the fear in your wide eyes. It makes him angry--both at this man, and at himself, for putting you in this situation. He will kill this man for his transgression. There is no doubt about that. It's not as if Arthur likes killing. But he has killed men for far less noble reasons than protecting you. So it stands to reason that this man's end is most certainly inevitable now.

As you stand there with the cold metal of a gun barrel digging into your temple, and with this horrible man pressed against you, you suddenly realize that the reason you are afraid is not so much that you could die right now, but that you could die without Arthur knowing that you love him. Before this moment, you have never divulged your heart's secret to him. And now, you may never get a chance to. You may never hold him or to ever know what it is like to properly kiss him. And worse yet, you'd never know if Arthur ever felt the same about you in return.

As the two men stare each other down, the air goes very still—as quiet as a cemetery at night. You can see Arthur's muscles tense like a spring ready to snap. Your chest begins to heave, drawing air into your lungs much faster now. Your heart races with anticipation. You watch Arthur like a hawk, your gaze never wavering from his. And then you see it. You see Arthur's eyes cast down ever so slightly. The hunter doesn't even notice, but you do. And your eyes go even wider with the recognition of it. It's a clear signal of which direction you will need to move.

Faster than what seems humanly possible, Arthur's body explodes into motion, pulling his gun from its holster. The mere second you see his muscles twitch, you let your body go absolutely limp like a wet string in the hunter's grasp. You slip through the man’s arms and drop down to his feet, crumpling hard to the ground. You cover your head with your hands and your knee knocks into your jaw as you curl into a ball as tightly as possible.

Three gunshots crack loudly through the air, echoing off of the treeline and ringing in your ears. You hear a loud, wet thud next to you, thick and heavy as a body hits the dirt. You are hesitant to look up, but you quickly realize that it can't be Arthur. The sound is too close in proximity to you to be him. You slowly lift your head and look over to see the bounty hunter lying motionless next to you. His eyes are wide open and still carrying the look of shock in them. You take quick note of the red weeping holes in his chest. Of the three shots that rang out, two were fired by Arthur, both hitting the hunter with deadly accuracy, with the third shot being a feeble attempt by the hunter to squeeze off a hit before bullets tore through his chest and he slumped to the ground.

But it is silent once again, now. The only sound you hear is your own heavy, terrified breathing as the smell of gunpowder lingers in the air. You stare at the dead man, confirming that he will not be a threat to you any longer. Speechless, you then turn your wide and shining eyes up at Arthur, still trying to catch your breath. Arthur stands perfectly still, a calm now settling over him. This is not a new sight for him, but one that he has been forced to pursue repeatedly. While you are sitting in the dirt, stunned, Arthur seems unphased by the dead body lying ungracefully in a heap on the ground. Sighing, he holsters his gun and slowly walks over to you.

Arthur looks down at you, tilting his head slightly. "You ok?" His voice is soft and concerned. You can only nod silently as he extends his hand down to help you stand.

You place your trembling hand into his much larger one. And in this very moment, the strength that you find there provides a comfort to you that you could not have possibly imagined. His other hand slides under your elbow, providing extra support as he carefully assists you to stand, checking that you have not been harmed in any way.

Once you've come to your feet, you suddenly launch yourself into Arthur's chest, throwing your arms tightly around his neck before he can stop you. For you, it is the safest place to be right now. Your eyes screw shut as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, your arms encircling his shoulders as you cling to him tightly. And instead of recoiling, Arthur evenly returns the gesture. A flood of relief washes over him, now that you are safe in his arms. You feel his strong arms circle around your waist and back, holding you securely to his broad chest as his chin drops to hover above your shoulder, his cheek pressed into your hair.

You still have yet to cry, but you are trembling terribly. And he holds you even closer, his hand sliding up to cradle your head now, in an effort to soothe your shaking. "It's alright," his voice floats from his lips as they hover next to your ear. "I got ya, girl. I always got you."

The two of you stay this way for several minutes, not another word spoken. You feel the nervous energy drain from you as Arthur holds you to him. His body pulls it from you and replaces it with his own body heat. Finally, you pull back from him and you gaze into each other's eyes. Your lids flutter at the wave of love you feel for him. Your gaze floats from his vividly blue eyes to his lips. You want so desperately to kiss him.

Arthur's breathing hitches slightly as he notices your chest beginning to float up and down as your heart rate speeds up at the thought of it. He catches you studying his face, your eyes lingering on his mouth. Your hands begin to slide from behind his neck, and across the plane of his shoulders, before gliding down along his arms. Your hands grasp slightly at the bulk of the muscles they find there as they travel. And suddenly, your fingers feel something wet. The quick change in sensation yanks you from your romantic reverie. You look away from his face and down to where your right hand lingers on his bicep and see bright crimson red seeping through the fabric of his green shirt.

"Your arm!" you gasp softly, blinking the fog away from your mind. The sight of Arthur's blood sharply startles you and quickly pulls your mind out of the clouds.

Confused, Arthur stares at you for a moment, not even paying attention to what you're saying, before looking down at himself. He sees the blood on his shirt from where the hunter's stray bullet cut across his arm, but quickly dismisses it. "It’s just a graze, I’m alright." He gives you a weak smile.

"We need to wrap this," you stutter, trying to collect your thoughts and pull yourself together. Looking around for your horse, you whistle for Blue as Arthur has taught you. The horse picks his head up at the sound and quickly comes trotting over to you from the bushes where he's been grazing. You hurry to get bandages out of your saddle bag and begin to wrap the cotton around Arthur's arm to quell the bleeding. Arthur says nothing, but simply watches your every move as you work. A grin pulls at his lips as he watches how you fuss over him, amused at how your attention has been drastically redirected. His eyes cascade from your beautiful hair, now a disheveled mess, and over your face before settling to your hands and delicate fingers, now painted red with his blood.

Suddenly, off in the distance, you begin to hear voices and hoofbeats. Arthur's head snaps up to attention, his eyes narrowing as he tries to focus on the direction it’s coming from. It could be colleagues of the bounty hunter, or it could simply be passers-by. But either way, the two of you should not be found with a dead man. As you tie-off the bandage around his bicep, Arthur sets his hands on both of your arms in urgency. "C'mon, we need to get out of here."

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

Thankfully, you and Arthur make it back to camp with no more distractions after that. Once you arrive home, you quickly pull Arthur to your med tent to stitch up the gash in his arm from the bullet graze. With that properly taken care of, you split up and head to your own tents to get cleaned up and settle down after the afternoon's events. Eventually, you both wander back to join the rest of the gang who have gathered around the main fire, where you are met with curious faces when they notice Arthur's bandage and the exhausted expressions upon both your faces. With a cup of hot coffee in your hand (and a whiskey bottle in Arthur's) you begin to recount the day's events about the bounty hunter to your friends.

"It's a good thing Arthur was there, then," suggests Abigail when you finish speaking, her eyes dancing back and forth between you and Arthur with a soft approving smile on her face.

From where he sits perched upon an overturned crate, Micah snorts a laugh of disbelief at her statement. "Well, that’s one way to look at it." He leans over to spit dismissively into the grass at his feet. "The way I see it, that piece of shit was there for Arthur, not her," he emphasizes with a wave in your direction. "She wouldn't have been in trouble in the first place if it weren't for him. So it’s more like Arthur was damn lucky he was able to pull that off without getting either of their asses shot. No?"

Leave it to Micah Bell to try and stir things up. Especially when it comes to Arthur.

You pitch a heated glare at Micah over the plumes of smoke that dance in the air, one that matches the burning embers that you all are sitting around. "You have no idea what you're even talki-"

"He’s right," Arthur confesses, cutting you off mid-sentence before you can rant and tear into the weasley man sitting across from you. He takes another gulp from the whiskey bottle and casually stretches his leg out a bit and resettles his weight to get more comfortable. You snap your head to look from Micah to Arthur now, his statement halting you in your tracks. You simply stare incredulously at Arthur, eyes blinking in disbelief.

"I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you just said," the sarcasm dripping from your voice as you shake your head at this nonsense. "It sounds like you said that 'Micah Bell is right'?"

"If that guy hadn’t known me, he may have just passed us by." Arthur keeps his tone calm and stares into your eyes as if to drill this belief into your stubborn head.

"Or he would have just killed us both!" you interject, your voice getting more annoyed by the second as you ball the fabric of your skirt into your hands.

"I shouldn’t have taken you out of camp," he argues back stubbornly, his grip tightening on the neck of the whiskey bottle in his hand. "Should've had Charles do it."

"You always do th-!" your voice raises now as you start to get angry.

"Either way, it’s done now," Dutch's deep voice booms sharply from where he’s sitting by the fire. His voice cuts through the mounting tension between you and Arthur, his hand slicing through the air in the finality of discussion. "No harm done. (Y/N)’s fine, that fella’s dead, Arthur is in one piece. It's over." Like a parent reprimanding his children, Dutch's tone is firm and unyielding in ending this argument before it can even begin. His dark eyes dart menacingly back and forth between you and Arthur, just waiting for any protest.

You bite your tongue as you hold Arthur's gaze with an unspoken irritation. After a moment of silence, Arthur abruptly gets up and storms off, intent on hiding away in his tent before he can say or do something stupid that he'll regret.

Your eyes follow him, glaring angrily out of frustration, desperately trying to ignore the stinging sensation of tears about to spill forth. The only sound to be heard is the crackling and popping of the fire in front of you.

From where she sits next to you, Abigail places a comforting hand upon your arm and sighs in disappointment. "Just let it go, (Y/N). Let him wallow."

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

The next few days are odd, to say the least. Arthur isn't specifically ignoring you, but he is definitely distracted and in his own head. There is much work to do in camp, so the distraction is welcome, but he is certainly conflicted. A few days ago, he was finally ready to sit you down and profess his affections for you; to finally come clean and speak out loud what has been rolling around in his head and bubbling in his heart for quite some time. But now, that horrible self-doubt is creeping its way back in, like ivy that climbs up the garden wall. And he feels guilty about it, too. One minute you two are inseparable, the next he won't come near you with a ten-foot pole. It has to be confusing to you, he figures. It has to be, seeing as it confuses the hell out of him, too.

Today, Arthur and Micah are riding out to follow a lead on a job. Normally, Arthur does not care to work jobs with Micah. But with John and Javier out on another route, and Bill and Charles each following their own leads, these two men are left for Dutch to send out. The two set out and make their way over to the next town to meet a man about a tip on a supply run. And with Arthur being quieter than usual, it doesn't take long for Micah to start running his mouth.

"You still poutin' over that mess with the bounty hunter, Morgan?" Micah glances over at the other man and his horse, a merciless tease in his voice as he pokes at what he knows is still a sensitive subject.

Arthur gives no answer except more silence and a scowl that deepens as he sits stiffly in his saddle while they travel the dusty road.

Micah gives a slight shrug at Arthur's lack of response. "Maybe that was an eye-opening experience?"

"What in the hell are you going on about now, Micah?" the outlaw asks irritably, finally giving Micah a brief glance in acknowledgement.

"Oh I don't know, I'm just thinking out loud is all," he says, feigning innocence. "But I'm just wondering if (Y/N) is really meant for this kind of life."

Arthur says nothing, but his eyes shift from Micah back to the path ahead of them at the thought. Micah takes quick notice at how Arthur's shoulders tense and his eyes become harder.

"I'm starting to wonder if she'd be better off without you, Arthur. I mean, let's be honest, she really don't fit in too well with the likes of us, now does she?" Micah pauses to gauge the reaction. And he sneers to see he's succeeding in getting under Arthur's skin and decides to keep prodding. "If you really like (Y/N) that much, maybe you should just stay away from her. She'd be a hell of a lot safer that way, don't you think?" Micah smirks to himself as he plants the seed into Arthur's brain. But of course, he'd swoop in on you in a heartbeat if Arthur were out of the way. “It's kinda selfish if you ask me, cowpoke.”

"Yeah, well good thing I didn’t ask you!" Arthur shouts, finally tired of Micah's needling.

Micah drops the reins of his horse for a moment and holds his hands up in surrender. "Now hold on, I didn't mean anything by it. Like I said, I'm just talking out loud here. But one of these days, that woman is gonna realize she don’t belong here with us, Arthur. And you’ll wake up one morning, or come back to camp, and..." he makes a gesture with his hand like smoke dissipating into the air, "... she’ll be gone.”

This statement makes Arthur freeze in his tracks. Although this is an idea that has been festering in the back of his mind for a while now, it is something he is not prepared to hear out loud. And certainly not something to be pointed out by the likes of Micah Bell. "Can you just shut your mouth for one damn moment so we can get this job done?!" Arthur snaps.

Micah says nothing, but holds his hands up again with a shrug.

This conversation germinates in Arthur's mind and puts him in a foul mood for days afterwards. He keeps a distance from everyone, including you. You don’t take too much offense to it at first, since you understand that Arthur sometimes gets in his own head, often needing solitude for lengths of time. Especially after running a job with Micah Bell. In fact, the space is actually a bit convenient right now, since you're trying to keep away from Arthur as well.

The run-in with the bounty hunter has forced you to take a hard look at your situation. You need to decide if you should finally confront Arthur and tell him how you feel about him. The thought of losing him the other day was almost too much for you to bear. But you are also well aware of Arthur's misgivings about personal attachments. You do not want to force Arthur into a scenario that he is not comfortable with. And, while Arthur is worried about endangering you, you are worried about being his weakness, his liability. That bounty hunter was quick to realize that you were the way to get to Arthur. Fortunately, Arthur was more than capable of dealing with that idiot. But what if he wasn't? What if Arthur is ever put in danger because of his weakness for you?

The problem is, you don’t know how much longer you can try to hide your feelings. The girls in camp already know how you feel about Arthur, and it’s pretty obvious to everyone else, for sure. You're almost positive that he feels the same for you as well, so what’s the point in denying it? You thought he’d have made a move or at least said something to you by now. You have tried to leave some not-so-subtle hints, but every time you think something will happen between you two, he always pulls away, leaving you confused and lonely. You know Arthur doesn’t have a high opinion of himself, and that things would need to go slow if this is something that you should pursue. But how can he deny what is so obvious to everyone else?

One late afternoon you're sitting in your tent, restless from having this internal struggle yet again. So you decide to take matters into your own hands. You huff in frustration, launching yourself off of your cot, a look of resolution on your face as you smooth out your skirts. "OK, that’s it. It’s now or never.” And you burst forth out of your tent in search of Arthur.

You head out into the common area of the camp, surveying your surroundings. And of course, you spot him by the horses, brushing down Buck. He’s been stewing over there a lot, ever since that job with Micah.

You take a deep breath. "You can do this," you whisper to yourself. And you head over to the hitching posts. Your pace is hesitant at first, but the longer your gaze fixates on Arthur, the faster you walk with determination. As you get closer, you casually walk up next to your horse, Blue, rubbing his nose as he nickers at your approach.

“Hey, you,“ you say, giving Arthur a little grin along with your usual greeting for each other.

“Hey…” he grumbles out in reply. He lifts his face, but quickly averts his eyes, as if guilty of some act against you.

"Want to go out for a ride with me?" you ask, your voice hopeful. Your hand absentmindedly caresses Blue's muzzle as you gaze at Arthur, trying to pin him down.

His hands pause in their work, not sure how to answer. He really does want to go out and to be alone with you, but in light of recent events, he thinks twice about it.

You can see the gears turning in his mind to try to find an excuse when he averts his eyes and doesn't answer you.

"Come on, please?" you whine, adding a little childish stomp. "I’m getting restless just sitting around here."

Arthur takes a deep breath as he considers his answer. “Yeah, I don’t think it's…”

"Come on, if you don’t come with me, I’ll just head out on my own," you cut him off with your threat before he can say no. Your hands plant firmly on your hips as you stare him down. "You don’t want me going out by myself, do you?"

Damn it. You know he can never say 'no' to you.

With an eye roll and an exasperated sigh to match, he simply gives you an “Alright, fine.”

Smiling triumphantly with a look that could melt Arthur in moments should he look upon you for too long, you spin around and get Blue saddled up as quickly as you can before Arthur can change his mind.

The afternoon temperature has started to drop to a comfortable degree as you and Arthur head down the path and out of camp. There’s a pleasant breeze carrying the fragrance of autumn in the air. You travel fairly quietly through the woods, only making small talk here and there, before heading to one of the overlooks that you like to frequent. It's a pretty little spot, tucked up on a ridge looking down over the valley. It gives an unobstructed view of the horizon and expanse of the land before you.

The overlook itself is littered with the last bit of wildflowers for the season and is covered with lush grasses that sway with the wind. This place has always been a peaceful getaway for you, and you were so thankful when Arthur brought you here to show it to you. Ever since, this is where you come for clarity and peace of mind. And you couldn't think of a better place to finally tell Arthur of your feelings for him.

You pull your horse to a stop and eagerly hop down from Blue's saddle. Blue follows behind you like an overgrown dog as you wander through the tall grass. Arthur slowly drops down from his saddle, watching you from behind. The sun is in front and off to the left side of you, casting your face and body in a warm, golden glow. Arthur instantly takes notice of how angelic you are. Your billowy skirts unfurl as they catch on the grass and your white blouse soaks up the amber colors of the sun's rays like paint to a canvas. You are so beautiful in this moment that it makes Arthur's heart ache, knowing he’ll never have happiness with you. Micah’s words ring through his mind as he watches you and he has to remind himself that good things don’t happen to bad men.

After you wander to sit on one of the large boulders that jut out of the red soil, you bend over to pick one of the wild daisies growing at your feet. You twirl the bud absentmindedly between your fingertips as you look about at the glorious view. A calm begins to settle over you as the smooth, cold surface of the rock beneath you radiates through your body. Your eye catches a few hawks circling in the sky out over the field in front you. You watch as they magically hover in the air and a contented smile crosses your face. Blue wanders over past you, snorting and nuzzling into your back as he passes, sniffing to find treats in your pockets.

"Get out of here, Blue, I ain’t got nothing for you," you chuckle, pushing his nose away. You look over your shoulder when you notice that Arthur hasn’t followed you. "You gonna join me?" you ask, a smile gracing your features to match the twinkle in your eye.

Arthur stands next to Buck, silent and fiddling with the horse's reins as he shifts his weight. Reluctantly, he walks over and slowly sits down next to you.

The two of you sit quietly for a bit, enjoying the view, until you nervously clear your throat. "So, I'm afraid I haven't been completely truthful with you, Arthur. There’s something that I want to talk about with you." You look down at your hands in your lap as you speak, your fingers rolling over each other. "It’s something I’ve been thinking about for awhile now." Taking a brief pause, you swallow before you continue. "I’m not really sure how to tell you this, to be honest."

Arthur’s stomach drops and his breathing becomes shallow as he notes how uncomfortable you are all of a sudden. You won't look him in the eye, and you're fidgeting. Something has you all worked up. And then it hits him: You're leaving. He’s sure of it. After what happened with the bounty hunter, he can't really blame you. And you've brought him out here to tell him. What else could have you this anxious? Arthur can feel his spirit deflate in disappointment. Everyone leaves at some point. But at least you are kind enough to tell him personally after all this time. Micah was right.

"God, I didn’t think I’d be so nervous about this," you mumble to yourself, your hands sweating as they continue to roll over each other in your lap.

"Look, (Y/N)…you don’t have to…" Arthur tries to speak, tries to put your mind at ease, but you hold your hand up to shush him, interrupting before he can get too far.

“Arthur, please, just…let me get this out before I lose my nerve,” you say quietly.

So he sits quietly as he sets his hands upon his thighs, fingers nervously drumming. His mouth goes dry, eyes fixated on the tips of his boots, waiting with trepidation for you to say what you have brought him here to tell him.

You close your eyes and take a deep, steadying breath...

“Arthur, I’ve come to realize…that…I have feelings for you."

And there it is, finally out in the open. Your words hang in the air for him to hear and ingest. No going back now, no hiding it any longer. And with this revelation, a great weight is lifted off of your chest.

You stop, looking at him out of the corner of your eye, testing the waters to see his reaction. But he sits there, not moving, eyes still aimed at his feet. His head is spinning, as this is not the news he was expecting to hear. He’s elated that you're not leaving after all, and breathes an internal sigh of relief. Yet that feeling of happiness quickly turns to shock and concern, when he fully realizes what it is that you have just said to him.

“What did you say?” he whispers, his body rigid with tension.

Suddenly, you become very apprehensive at Arthur's response. You thought he’d be happier than this.

“I care for you, Arthur. Deeply," you say emphatically.

You gently reach over and place your hand over his that still rests on his thigh, and lean forward to try to peer into his face to gauge his reaction. His eyes flicker to your delicate hand on top of his own calloused one. He is frozen in this moment of time, paralyzed. He’s prayed to hear those very words from your lips for so, so long. Yet, he has also dreaded it. For Arthur truly believes that he could be the very end of you.

With a great pain in his chest, Arthur slowly withdrawals his hand from under yours. You look in confusion from where your hands were once folded together, to his face, but he still won’t look at you. Your heart begins to pound loudly in your ears.

"Arthur?" Your voice quakes with trepidation, yet he still sits there, not moving, not speaking.

"Say something. Please?" You sound so small as you beg for a response from him. This void of silence is crushing.

Arthur closes his eyes and winces, knowing the next thing he has to say is the most painful thing he’s had to do in a long time. "I….I can’t," his voice barely a whisper.

Your eyes shoot open wide. "What?" your voice cracks in disbelief.

"You don’t want me, (Y/N)" he says, shaking his head, his gaze still fixated on his boot-tips.

"Why on Earth not?"

"I'm not a good man. You deserve better in this life, and so much better than me.” Arthur's answer is so simple in its delivery, as if this is something that you should have known all along.

You are stunned into silence for a few minutes, processing what he’s just said to you, desperately trying not to get upset. "Don’t I get a say in what’s best for me?" you challenge back.

“No, not in this case." Arthur still won't look at you, and his voice maintains a sad and low tone. His calmness over such a thing is almost maddening to you.

"Look at me, Arthur," you demand desperately. "Look at me!" He turns just enough to give you a side glance before guiltily averting his eyes again when he sees the tears starting to gather around your irises. "Can you really sit there and tell me you feel nothing for me?" you ask incredulously.

“It's not a matter of what I want, (Y/N)." He tries to speak calmly to you, hoping to make you understand and trying not to upset you any more than he already has. But you are not having any of it. Your emotions are a churning sea right now; intense and uncontrollable.

"Like hell it’s not!" your voice is starting to rise now. "Your wants, your dreams, they matter, Arthur. You matter. I know you don’t see that, but I see you, Arthur. I see you." You begin to rapidly blink back the tears forming in your eyes, desperate to get through to him.

"I tell my dreams to ghosts at this point," he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. His eyes dart around rapidly, trying to look anywhere but at your face right now. He abruptly stands up, pacing a few steps. He draws his hand over his mouth, wishing this conversation was not happening.

"It’s OK to give everything you got, Arthur, but you have to keep something for yourself too,” you implore as you watch him pace in front of you.

“Not this time," he says sternly, finally looking at you with such intensity. "What the hell do you want with someone like me, anyways?!" his own voice now rising to meet yours. "I’m old, I’m ugly, I’m mean…”

“Jesus, you really are broken aren’t you?" you ask in wonder as you take in the sight of him, watching him nervously unravel before your eyes.

“Bah…” he grunts angrily, waving you off. He turns away from you to face the horizon line again, getting more annoyed by the second. But still, you keep pushing.

“Why are you making this so hard, Arthur?!”

“Because!" he spins back to face you again. "It’s only a matter of time before you figure out what a piece of shit I am, (Y/N)! I can’t go through that again. Not again. Not with you.” He waves his arm to decisively make his point. And it is now that you fully understand his greatest fear and worry.

“You don’t know that!“ you beg.

“Yes, I do!" he shouts angrily at you, his volume startling the horses grazing nearby. He is now past his breaking point, his chest heaving with the battle of emotions within him. "Why can’t you just leave things as they are, (Y/N)?!”

“Because that’s not good enough!" you holler back, not willing to give up on him. "Is that what you really want, Arthur?”

“That’s how it has to be. You shouldn’t even be here!” He throws that bomb back in your face, unaware at the severity of its delivery.

The statement cuts you like a knife, twisting into your heart so deep that it makes you gasp and your eyes go wide. And the moment it escapes Arthur's lips, the look of shock on your face makes him regret saying it. Aside from your feelings, Arthur is your best friend. He is the one who brought you here. How could he really think that? It is a blow that he meant to end this argument, but he severely underestimated the damage it would do in its wake.

You are shaken to your core. This is certainly not how you thought this conversation was going to go when you imagined it in your head. You can feel your fingertips and toes go numb, your nerves alight.

You simply stare at him, speechless, before you lean forward and bury your face into your hands, trying to comprehend this nonsense. This lovely moment that you envisioned has gone so horribly wrong. You were so sure that Arthur would fold you up into his massive arms upon your revelation. This adolescent awkwardness that the two of you have danced around for so long could finally be put behind you and you could move on together. You could put an end to the shared notion of loneliness that sits deep within you both. It was a gamble. You would expose the delicate nerves of your heart in hopes that he would accept it. But you sorely miscalculated. Maybe you are too naive? Maybe this romantic notion of loving an outlaw is just a silly idea after all?

You sniffle back the tears that still threaten to spill forth, determined to keep yourself together. Defeated, you slowly stand up, avoiding his watchful gaze, and turn to head back to the horses. Arthur's chest is heavy with guilt from having to hurt you like this. He gingerly reaches out and catches your elbow before you walk away from him.

“Please, (Y/N)," his voice quiet again, pleading for forgiveness. "This is for your own good.” His blue eyes implore you to understand his reasoning.

"Right, Arthur. My own good."

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

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vendetta-if · 2 months

Note

Hello!

Just wanted to say the IF is amazing, i just spent 3 days straight binging it and loved every second. Please ignore if it has already been asked but what is all the RO's preferred genre of music? And favourite songs if they have any?

Keep up the amazing work!

Thank you for the kind words! And I just wanna say, your ask is the final push for me to actually scour through most of my songs on Spotify and finish assembling playlists for Rin, Santana, Skylar, and Jackal 😆 But I had so much fun doing so and I'll keep adding more and updating all of the characters' playlists as I discovered more new (and old lost) songs that fit them.

I have the links to their spotify playlist which contain a mix of their favorite songs and some songs whose lyrics fit them. I don't think I can link too much stuff in one post unfortunately, so I'll make a separate post to announce the rest of the characters playlists later on 😁But I'll try to link one song that either perfectly encapsulate their music taste or whose lyrics fit the character--or at least a song that they'd enjoy listening to.

Also, I basically have to split up my own music taste and favorite genres among all of my characters and I'm running out of genres 😭 But as for your question, I don't think I've answered something like that before--at least not in detail.

Sorry in advance for the long post (I just love being able to gush about my characters and music 🤭)

Ash

Ash enjoys quite a wide variety of genres, but mostly, their go-to are genres that are more energetic and/or aggressive. So, think like Rock, Phonk, Dubstep, Trap, Drum and Bass, Metal, that kind of stuff. But usually, they listen to songs whose vibes and/or lyrics kind of fit the mood they're in at the moment.

Also, fun fact, they did have some kind of an emo phase during their angsty and edgy teenage years 😂 It wasn't really too apparent (like no, they didn't have that typical emo hairstyle or wore those iconic eyeliners), but they just relate to quite a number of the lyrics of songs that can be considered to be emo anthems.

The song that fits the genre they like to listen to and the lyrics also matched their feelings and obsession love for MC is "So Sick" by Johnny Goth.

"So Sick" - Johnny Goth

youtube

Rin

As the child of a classically-trained musician, Rin mostly enjoys classical and instrumental music. One of their favorite instruments is the piano and they used to enjoy learning to play it. Maybe in the future, when they won't be so busy anymore, they can pick up their piano lessen again...

Also, they tend to gravitate towards more soothing and calming songs in general because of the headaches they usually got after using their power too much or to see to far into the future. So most of their playlist is filled with instrumental songs, either piano, cello, or violin, or a combination of those.

As for the song that fits them, I'd say "The Belt of Faith" by Jung Jaeil kinda fits their vibe and the gravitas they carry (Yes, the main soundtrack for the film "Parasite" and yeah, I can see the irony 😂 )

"The Belt of Faith" - Jung Jaeil

youtube

Santana

Santana loves that tinge of old-school songs that they were often exposed to whenever their parents listen to in the radio. So, the genres they enjoy are synthwave and retrowave songs 😎

As for the song that encapsulates their favorite genre and whose lyrics fit them quite well is "Gloria" by The Midnight.

"Gloria" - The Midnight

youtube

Skylar

Skylar is a pretty chill and upbeat person who loves and enjoys nature, so their favorite genres include those upbeat summer music and Indie/Alternative Folk music. They also enjoy the occasional pop songs.

As for the song that fits their vibe and desire to just fly off and be free is "Get Away" by Surfclub.

"Get Away" - Surfclub

youtube

BONUS

Luka

Luka enjoys Electronic music, including Phonk, Post-Punk, and Alternative/Indie. So, yeah, quite a variety of genres. But for one song that fits him the most, from the lyrics to even the title itself is "Everything Black" by Unlike Pluto 😆

"Everything Black" - Unlike Pluto (feat. Mike Taylor)

youtube

Jackal

Just like Luka, he also enjoys Electronic music, especially Phonk. But unlike Luka, he sometimes loves Hip-Hop music as well. One of the few songs that kinda encapsulate both of those genres and fits with his personality is "Heartless" by UNAVERAGE GANG.

"Heartless" - UNAVERAGE GANG

youtube

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frvnkcastles · 4 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write something about reader who used to self harm and is slowly starting to do it again and Frank finding out.

SCAR-CROSSED LOVERS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You relapse and when Frank finds out, he tries his best to comfort you.

Warnings: SELF-HARM, hurt/comfort

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: Anon, I sympathize with you <3 I had to restart my count 13 times this year so safe to say it hasn’t been an easy one. But I got this and so do you, I promise. I believe in you!! And guess what, so does Frank :) Thank you for sharing with me.

You had made it through 37 days. You had had yourself convinced that this time it was for real — this time, you wouldn’t have to start counting all over again and this time, you could make yourself proud. More importantly, you could make Frank proud. He was such a big part of why you had been able to stop, one of the main reasons why you had stayed so strong, and there were no words to describe the rush you felt when he smiled at you, kissed the top of your head and told you how amazed he was. How could you do anything to change that?

And yet, on the 38th day, you caved. It was so stupid, it wasn’t like anything even happened but you woke up with a dark cloud over you and it wouldn’t budge. Frank was out of town all week and you were left alone with your thoughts, the kind that spiraled and got out of hand with every passing moment. You felt hopeless and out of options and in a moment of weakness, you gave in to the urges.

You cried instantly. You had wrecked all your progress, lost Frank’s admiration for you, all for momentary relief that soon turned into shame and regret. And that, in a vicious cycle, got you addicted all over again. You felt like you deserved it now, like you needed to punish yourself, and that was why you did it again the next day. And the day after that. And again the next day. Sooner rather than later, the wounds that faded into light scars were back and you looked just as damaged as you felt.

When Frank finally came home from his trip, you were able to control yourself. You didn’t want to be caught in the act, and you didn’t want to be exposed, in the immense fear that he’d be entirely too disappointed or bluntly decide you were far too much trouble than he had signed up for.

”I missed ya, sweetheart”, he murmured into your neck, his arms tight around your shorter figure, and all you could think about was him turning on his heel and leaving you for good if only he knew.

”I missed you”, you whispered, but your voice was much too hollow for Frank to take the words and accept them as they were. He always knew when something was wrong. He just didn’t know what — but he’d get to the bottom of it. And that was exactly what you feared.

When he was all unpacked and you had eaten dinner together — although you had barely had an appetite — you were cuddled up on the couch, the TV on in front of you but neither of you really paying attention. He was wondering how to pick your secrets out of you, questioning if you were upset at him for being away so long, and while he was thinking his head through, you were frozen in the fear of being caught.

”Baby, I can hear you thinkin’. What is it, huh? You mad at me?” Frank was the first to speak up, and flinching at the gravelly sound of his voice, you shifted against his chest and looked up at him with wide eyes.

”What makes you think that?” you squeaked, and with a wry chuckle, Frank tilted his head at you and brushed his thumb across your chin.

”I dunno, figured that maybe you were gettin’ sick of me always being gone. I don’t like it either, y’know”, he murmured before leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

Sighing, you cast a look down at your shaky hands. Now you had made him feel bad. God, the guilt was unbearable. ”No, I’m not mad. I understand why you had to be away”, you spoke quietly, and betraying your facade, a tear rolled down your cheek and Frank reacted quickly, wiping it away with his fingertip.

”Then what is it? Ya can’t tell me everything’s fine. I ain’t stupid. What I am is worried, sweetheart”, he continued, rough voice full of affection and concern as he eyed you up and down.

You knew you were past the point of no return. There was no getting out of this. You couldn’t lie to him, either.

As if on cue, your phone screen lit up, and you glanced at the notification that mocked you. Your first day sober! The app you had downloaded when you had quit the first time reminded you now, and unable to speak the words out loud, you lifted up the phone and showed Frank. You could see the moment it registered in his head, his eyes darkening and his face dropping, and in an instant, you were crying and pulling away from him.

”I couldn’t stay strong. I tried, I swear, but it was too much. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you”, you tried to explain, your trembling hands coming to cover your face as you inched to the other end of the couch, but as soon as you were off of him, Frank was trying to close the distance back up.

”Hey, hey, stop that. You haven’t disappointed me, sweetheart, what do you mean? C’mere”, he insisted, shushing you gently while widening his arms for you. You hesitated, not really feeling like you had earned it, but the selfish part of you that wanted to feel his comfort won, and you curled up into his chest while trying to level your breathing.

”You always cheered me on. You always made me feel so strong and so good about myself. And it still wasn’t enough”, you whispered shakily, sniffling while closing your eyes and breathing Frank in, as if worried he was going to slip away from you at any given moment.

”I’m sad, of course, I am. ’Cause I never want you to be hurtin’. But I never thought I’d be able to magically fix anythin’. It’s a battle and some days are tougher than others. All you can do is try again the next day. It doesn’t make you any less worthy or amazing if you stumble along the way”, Frank assured you, his arms holding you in place as he rested his head against yours.

”Like I told you last time, and the time before that, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’mma help you in any way you need me to”, he added, and with a quiet mix of a sob and a laugh, you nodded.

”How do I deserve you?” you wondered out loud, and with a chuckle, Frank kissed the top of your head.

”You never judge me for my scars, and I ain’t ever gonna judge you for yours. I promise you that, sweetheart”, he shrugged, as it if was the most casual thing. He then rolled up his sleeve and pointed at a new wound on his forearm. ”That one’s gonna leave a mark, for sure. Some asshole nicked me a few days ago. Not too bad, but it’ll be my millionth scar”, he explained before pulling down his collar and gesturing at an older scar at his collarbone. ”Got that one when I was still in the Marines. Hated it for a long time but now it’s a part of me, I guess.”

Nodding in understanding, you withdrew just enough so you could roll up your own sleeve and point at the scars there. ”That one was when I had a fight with my best friend and I was sure I was losing her forever. That one… shitty grade from a really important exam. That one is from when I couldn’t fit into my favorite dress anymore. I guess a lot of things get me down and I always go for the blade to cope”, you explained, and now, it was Frank’s turn to nod.

”I’preciate you sharin’ with me. I know it ain’t easy. But I’m always willin’ to listen, aight?” Frank insisted, gently taking your arm to pepper your wounded skin with the softest kisses.

”I love you”, you whispered sincerely, overwhelmed by your adoration for him, and cracking a smile, Frank leaned in to kiss your lips.

”I love you. Scars and all.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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anemptypuddingcup · 9 months

Text

Sweeter than sugar.

Vampire Luffy x Female Reader.

A two part series with Vampire Luffy.

Y’all I am so sorry. I had sidetracked myself with the Sanji series and decided to come to Luffy next. Don’t fight me please-

Part 1 Part 2

Contains: Vampire!Luffy. Luffy hungry for blood. Reader happens to roam into his mansion without knowing it’s his. Luffy allowing Reader to stay in exchange for blood. A segment of storyline before we get in to smut.

“Hahhh…So hungryyy…”

Luffy groans heavily as he stares out through the tinted mansion window, the sound of rain nearly putting him to sleep as he listened intently. The clouds blanketed the sky with a slight darkness, covering the his mansion along with his land alike. It was a shame he couldn’t go out. Even if it wasn’t the sea, the water still drained him if his energy, especially at a time like this.

A heavy huff leaves his lips while his stomach rumbles with ferocity, his long thin tongue tracing across his dry cracked lips as he yearned for some fresh sweet blood. Not blood from animals but from humans. He was getting a little sick of thick consistency of animal blood, not to mention it was harmful to the animals themselves. It was all based on survival, but at the same time Luffy was picky with this matter.

He hoped that Chopper or Sanji would at least return soon, it would’ve been a better alternative to ask for blood packs instead of hunting for animal blood. It would’ve been more convenient and it could’ve saved up a lot more time, though knowing Luffy he wasn’t thinking about it not one bit.

A bit of drool trickles from his lips and down to his chin as he thought of slurping up the blood of a wonderful human. The consistency and the flavor, he couldn’t help but to be picky with a thing such as this. If only he enjoyed eating food more.

“Ahhh…I hope th’rain brings in somebodyy, how long will I hafta wait..?” He sighs before he wipes the drool from chin and lips. He lets out a little groan as he lifts himself up from his chair and walks over to his window, his cloak flowing slightly in the air as he stood. He stares as the little droplets fell down with slight intensity, the sound of the rain washing a sudden sadness over him and his body. He felt a bit lonely if not hungry.

His eyes scans down his yard, sliding past a little shadow within the thick moist air before he turns away.

“Wait-“

The sudden realization made him backtrack to his window and he peers out again. He squints his eyes before they widen with excitement, a thankful little gasp leaving his throat as he stares at the shadow.

He presses his hands and face against the glass before smiling widely, thanking every god for answering his prayers. It was a human, a fresh source of blood that he’d been begging for all this time. His eyes glimmer with delight and more drool spills past his lips before he finally snaps back to his senses.

He shakes his head and looks back in the same direction of the mysterious figure, only to see that it disappeared from his sight.

He jolts as he suddenly hears his front mansion door creak open, his heart beating from his chest as he realized that his meal had entered his vicinity.

Sliding his tongue along his lips, he slowly walks out of his main room and into the long corridor, his feet trailing along the long red rug.

***

You slowly slide yourself through the large mansion door and quickly shut it behind you, your teeth chattering from the cold temperature of the rain against your skin. Your eyes darts around as you gripped your arms tightly, desperately trying to keep yourself warm after being exposed to such cold weather.

You were surprised that the mansion was clean and pretty on the inside, it didn’t look much like its dilapidated stone exterior outside the doors. You slowly trail through the mansion while your soaked clothing left a trail of water to follow. You huff heavily as you trembled from the cold air hitting your damp skin, looking around for at least some source of heat to keep you warm.

As your wet and damp footsteps echoes through the empty mansion, the sound of a different set of footsteps makes you freeze suddenly.

“Oi…”

The ominous sound of a young man calls out to you down the corridor and you quickly turn around to see him standing on the other end. You felt your heart beginning to pound as a sudden rush of adrenaline sends you back, pulling you away from the figure of whoever it was. Your legs move on their own and you run, a bit afraid that you’ve entered someplace you weren’t supposed to.

A sudden flash of his presence makes you pause before you feel your back press against someone’s chest. You don’t dare turn around as you felt the heaving of the person’s chest rise and fall up against your back. A hand to your shoulder makes you jolt as a few tears brim at your eyes. Your brows furrowed as you shut your eyes tightly, bracing yourself for whatever may happen next.

“What’re ya doin’ ‘side f’my place? Are ya lost?”

You feel his warm breath fall against your neck before you felt his slimy thin tongue trail up your skin. He groans heavily at the saltiness of your skin, fighting back the strong urge to just bite and gnaw at your neck right then and there. All color falls from your face as you felt his tongue slowly slide against your skin.

You let out a little mewl before biting your bottom lip tightly, pursing and clamming up your noise. He removes his tongue and giggles and you shiver as you felt the chill on your neck where his saliva lingered. “Ya gonna answer me? Ya shy or sum’?” He asks, his head cocking to the side as he stares at you with his jet black pupils.

You exhale shakily and you tremble against him, the sound of your heart pounding beginning to echo throughout your head. “I-I’m so s-sorry i-if I’m trespassing…I-I need shelter..” You sigh out heavily as you begin to feel lightheaded.

You hear him giggle before he grips your chin and turns your head to face him. A slight blush dusts your cheeks as you admire his features while his eyes glazes your body from head to toe. It seems that he’d gain a slight attraction to what he’d seen, and you probably did too. “Shishishi~ S’fine~ M’not gonna eat ya~” He says teasingly, his thumb pressing up against your soft glossy lips.

Your face begins to burn up before your eyes glance away from him.

Looking back to him, you notice his thin tongue sliding along his lips repeatedly as he stares at you in the eyes. You gulp your saliva as a mixture of feelings began to overwhelm your body. Your body grew warmer against his and you sigh heavily. His eyes didn’t look away from you one bit and you felt as if he was trying to undress you with them.

“You’re pretty. An’ I like that ‘bout ya.” He says to you, speaking his mind. You stare up at and let out a heavy sigh as he moves in closer to you. He slides his tongue along your neck once again and your heart pounds once more. “Is there something that you want?…” You ask reluctantly, his behavior growing more and more aggressive with every lick and tastes of your skin. He couldn’t hold back his urge much longer the more he tasted your skin.

Your question causes him to pause before he looks at you with his brows raised. “Yeah. There is.” He says to you before he slowly pulls away from your neck to face you. “Lemme have sum’ f’ya blood. Ya smell sweet…and it’s makin’ m’hungry.” He admits, his thick and heavy hands pressing hard against your shoulders.

You shudder but suck up any remaining feeling, part of you began to question if it was okay to bargain with such a man.

It was too late now though, by time you thought so you were already speaking.

“May I stay here for a few nights in exchange?” You asked, now desperate to just have a roof over your head and some heat enveloping your body. His brows raise as he listens to your question before his hand begins to ruffle at his hair. His eyes trails around with thought and a smile comes across his face before he grins widely. “Shishishi~ Playin’ hard ta get with me?” He asked, looking to you with an amused expression. You stay silent and look away from him out of nervousness.

“Alright. I’ll getcha whatever ya need. As long as ya stick with ya words.” He says, finally taking a step back away from you.

You feel a wave of relief wash over as he accepts your trade before you feel yourself quickly beginning to grow lightheaded and fatigued. As you begin to wobble he quickly rushes to your side and holds you steady, a small bit of laughter leaving him as he held on to you.

“Ya alright there?” He asked, his arms holding you up and steady. You exhale heavily and nodded. “I’m just…I’m just tired.” You sigh heavily as you lean up onto him. He smiles as he wraps his forearms underneath your body, lifting your body up off the ground as he walks down the long corridor.

You feel yourself ready to fade out of consciousness but you couldn’t allow yourself to, not when there was a bloodthirsty man carrying you down the dark corridors of his mansion. He walked slowly, making sure to take his time as he held your delicate body in his arms.

Among walking the dark halls and staircases, he finally brings you into a warm and cozy area, a room with a fireplace and warm bed far in front of it. “This is m’guest room. Hope it’ll warm ya up a bit.” He says as he walks over to the well-made bed. There was a canopy attached to the top, allowing the silky curtains to fall down and slightly obscure the bed.

He softly sets you onto the bed before walking away to look around in the closet. “Sorry if this ain’t good enough, ion usually have folks here so…just have this f’now.”

You slowly sit up against the bedding to look at him and he tosses a large shirt over to you. You look at it before sighing, you weren’t about it be picky with any clothes after he allowed you to stay in. “U-Um…” You look at him a she stood there with a little grin on his face, tilting his head as you call out to him.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“C-Can you…Can you turn around..?” A nervous blush spreads across your face as he stares at you with a blank expression. “Aw, not even a peek?” He asks, a little giggle leaving his lips as he slowly turns around.

You quickly try your best to change out of your sopping clothes as he stood there and waited for you to tell him to turn back around. “Where do I put these…?” You asked as you held your soaking clothing tightly. The young man peeks back before fully turning around and walking over to you. He grabs your clothes and sets them aside before smiling. “Ah, ya can set ‘em right here. It’ll be fine.”

You slowly climb into the bed as a yawn escapes your lips, leaving the young man out to stare at you as you settled into bed. You slowly close your eyes as the drowsiness crashed onto your body, pulling the blankets up farther so you could get comfy.

“Oi. Ain’t ya forgettin’ sum’?”

You slowly pull your eyes back open and see the young man staring down at you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight as he hovered over you. You shoot up from the pillows and stare at him, your body shivering a bit as he stares at you with intensity.

He presses his hand up against your neck and stares at it before trailing his eyes back to yours. You trembled as you felt his fingers trace along the skin of your neck, his fingertips prodding at silky smoothness of your skin.

He lands his hips onto your your lap as he stares down at you, the cheekiest yet darkest smirk spread across his face. “I want sum’ f’ya blood…now.” He says, his tone slightly more impatient than before. Your mouth quivered as his body weight was pressed up against yours, his fingers still tracing along your neck.

“R-Right…I forgot..” You lie. He smiles wider before he presses a smooch along your neck, making you let out a sudden mewl. “Y’aint forgot…Y’just nervous…” He whispers as he peppers kisses against your neck. You feel your body grow warmer as he tried his best to soothe you, soften you up before he was ready to take a bit.

“Ya smell s’good~ Ya skin’s tasty too~” He whisper to you, pressing a small smooch against your ear. “M-Mhh~” You feel heat beginning to spill from you as he kissed and suckled along your skin, making a few noises come out of your lips. He softly pushes your body down along the soft fluffy pillows, pressing more kisses against you before he finally presses a kiss to your lips.

“What’s ya name?~” He asks as he continues to press his lips against yours. “H-Hmm?~” You moan out, your hands now gripping his cloak tightly as the kisses began to feel so good against your skin.

The feeling of his warm rough lips along your skin began to make your mind swirl with arousal. You hear him giggle again as he cups yours face.

“What’s ya name baby?~” He asks, this time adding on a little pet name. You felt your heart swell up with slight joy as you hear him call you such a name. “_-________~” You gasp out. He chuckles. “Pretty name. M’name’s Luffy. Monkey D. Luffy.” He finally introduces himself as he presses another kiss to your lips. You let out a little gasp as his hands trails from your face to your shoulders. “________. Can I touch on ya an’ bite on ya?” He asks, lookin down at you with half-lidded eyes.

You stare up at him before blushing. “Y-Yes…Yes you can.” You breathe out softly. Luffy smiles as he yanks off his cloak urgently before he moves his hands to the buttons of his shirt. Buttons begins to fly everywhere as he pulls his shirt open with a heavy sigh, your eyes widening once you see his sculptured body in front of you.

Your hands trembled against the sheets as you stare at his torso. His abs defined prettily as you stared at them with eagerness. What made his entire look cuter was the X-shaped scar across his chest. A scar that signified lost and pain. A scar that singe deep within his skin. “Y’can touch it if ya want.” He snickers as he notices you staring at his body.

You slowly press your hands up against his scar, tracing it as a shaky breath leaves your lips. You feel him pull you closer as her buries his face deep into your neck. “Can I…Can I bite ya now?” He asks, his hands now shivering against your collarbone. “Y-Yes…Sorry for keeping you waiting.” You apologize, a little gasp leaving you once you feel his tongue along your neck again.

You feel him press his fangs against your skin, imprinting a spot on where he wanted to hit you. “Fuck…M’so ready~ Are ya ready ________?” He asks, his hands gripping your shoulders to keep you still. You clench your eyes shut and tense up as you felt your his teeth graze along your neck.

“Y-Yes, I’m ready..” You say shakily before exhaling softly.

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece luffy #op luffy #luffy smut #luffy fluff #monkey d luffy #luffy x female reader #puddingcupfics #sweeter than sugar series

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baeshijima · 1 year

Text

— in these quiet nights

whenever you're stuck in solitude, ayato somehow manages to find a way to be by your side without fail.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 900+ wc, fluff, established relationship

A/N : its 1 am, currently using this as an escape from my project, and writing a very late ayato piece for his bday ;w; life stop making me have no time for my fictional men pls and ty <//3

There’s a solemn chill hanging overhead. The air stills, the stars dull, and the moonlight glimmers.

It’s not often you find a moment of peace, what with your busy schedule interfering time and time again, though you could argue it’s more solitary than it is tranquil. Perhaps this escapade would have been better suited in the early hours of dawn as opposed to the steadily approaching midnight you’re currently stuck in.

A whisper of a sigh slips through your lips. Pulling the thin blanket closer around your shoulders, you lift your gaze upwards, paying half a mind to the feather-light footsteps approaching from behind. You have no reason to turn to be able to identify the new presence, for who else would be mad enough to be up this late after the busy day which transpired?

“A fine evening, is it not?” comes that oh-so familiar intonation, the footsteps coming to a halt behind your seated form. Strands of baby blue obstruct your view of the bleak stars, a pair of lavender eyes twinkling with fond mischief follow in pursuit. Despite his towering form shielding you from the pale lighting, his face glows all the same — a testament to the sheer elegance instilled within. His gaze drifts down your shadowed form, a light hum trailing close behind. “Are you cold?”

You blink at his question. It takes a few seconds for you to realise the main focus of his concern; the blanket tugged over your shoulders. “How can I be when there’s no wind?”

As soon as the question is uttered, you immediately sense a foreboding shiver trickle down your spine. Maybe it’s the hairs along the back of your neck rising, or it could be the puffs of air Ayato is relentlessly blowing towards your dumbfounded figure.

“Do you feel the wind now?” he has the gall to ask. Unsurprisingly, the impish grin splayed across his lips becomes increasingly more tempting to slap off the longer he persists. Unfortunately, your hands are occupied, making it near impossible to move them.

(Archons forbid you actually exert unneeded energy when you’re already spent.)

“Yes,” you deadpan, “I’m so cold my teeth are chattering. Can you hear it?”

He hums in faux contemplation, a gloved hand raised to rest under his chin in an attempt to further support his charade. “Not quite. Perhaps I ought to bring out the fan.”

“Please don’t. My teeth will really chatter then.”

Your shoulders relax upon hearing his gleeful laugh. In a fluid motion he steps away from you, exposing you to the stark moonlight, before plopping himself on the veranda beside you. Before you have the time to process the string of movements, your left arm is promptly lifted up (with the blanket following suit) as a bundle of warmth dives into the newly opened space, your arm tugged down and around the intruder of your personal space.

Well, at least he’s warm.

“If you’re tired then go to bed.” As soon as the words are uttered, a displeased whine escapes him. Much to your bemusement, a ticklish sensation occurs at the crook of your neck, and you belatedly realise the act akin to nuzzling currently being performed by the bane of your existence, his arms wrapping around your torso in protest. Like a child.

“Why should I?” he mutters into your skin, tone bitter and laced with indignance someone of his standing should most definitely not have. Well, you can’t say you’re not used to it.

“Because you need proper sleep.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll get sick again if you keep this up.”

“...”

“But why?”

Archons have mercy on your poor soul.

“I’d rather not be known as your personal pillow,” you state monotonously, positively done with his antics. “I have some dignity left in me.”

“And if I were to say you’re warmer than my bed and comfier than my pillow?”

(You’re not. You can attest to that fact as someone who has actually slept in his bed — which is unfairly warm and comfortable, if you may add.)

Gaze narrowing at the smug expression beaming up at you, you merely retort, “Do you want me to drag you to bed myself?”

“If it’s you then I would happily obli— mmrph.” Swiftly, your palms smother his words before he has the chance to finish. And no, you will not be swayed by the doe eyes batting up at you, nor by the fluttering of his long eyelashes brushing along the apples of his cheeks.

What an unfairly pretty lover you have in your palms. Literally.

Seeing how he’s more than happy with the skin contact being made, you take it upon yourself to swiftly remove your hands and return your gaze to the night’s canvas, his theatrical bemoans of your “cold shoulder” and “[Name] doesn’t love me anymore” going ignored.

It stays quiet between you for a while, the only sounds being the faint breaths and rhythmic heartbeats steadily falling in sync. Oddly enough, you find yourself forgetting the previous solitude you were trapped in only moments prior, focusing instead on Ayato’s fingers entwined with yours and basking in his familiarity.

Your shoulder dips slightly when a weight drops atop it. When you glance down to identify the source of permeating warmth, you can’t help the smile alighting your features.

“Thank you for loving me as much as I love you, Ayato,” you murmur against the crown of his head as you place a chaste kiss, before pulling the thin blanket around the two of you in an effort to cage your shared warmth.

(How strange, you silently muse to yourself, suddenly finding yourself overcome with drowsiness. The air feels warmer now.)

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi!! I've seen you account recently and I was thinking maybe you could write eddie munson x reader when the reader is always so guffy and childish. So reader is sick like have really bad fever and is weary weak, almost fainted because of that and Eddie take kare of them and maybe lullaby them to sleep by singing them and rocking them please

Also English isn't my mother language so please forgive me for any mistakes love you

Feel free to ignore me if you want to byee

AN | No, but Eddie would take such good care of you 🥺🥰

Warnings | sick!reader

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew that something was off as soon as you woke up that morning. Your head was pounding, you felt fatigued despite the fact that you’d gotten plenty of sleep, and your throat was taking on a dry, scratchy feeling.

You’d experienced enough life and were definitely smart enough to put the pieces together. The conclusion to which, naturally, was that you were getting sick and coming down with…something.

Once you were up and had taken a shower, you walked back into the bedroom you shared with Eddie and found him still sound asleep since he started at his job later than you did. Every fiber of your being yearned to crawl into bed with him and let him hold you…but you also didn’t like to succumb to something so simple. Besides that, if you were getting sick, you didn’t want to be around Eddie too much and potentially get him sick as well. Although by this point, you were sure that he’d probably already be exposed to whatever you had.

It was with a heavy heart and tired bones that you got dressed, made coffee, and headed out the door to work. In an effort to keep everyone else safe, you’d already decided that you were going to lock yourself into your office and keep to yourself.

Hopefully this wouldn’t turn into anything too bad.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Making it through the work day had been a challenge and a half. It had, realistically speaking, ended about an hour before you were actually off, when you’d managed to fall asleep at your desk. You were thankful for closing the door; it would have been an awkward situation to explain. Your head had been on the desk and you had been drooling…needless to say you were out of it.

You probably should have called and asked your husband for a ride, but you hated the idea of bothering him, so you sucked it up and got yourself home. As soon as you walked in and dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, you made your way over to the couch and collapsed onto it. A groan escaped your lips at the feeling of your sore body hitting the soft fabric. You grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and pulled it over you, cuddled up as you gave in and took another nap. Your body was desperately craving it and you were too tired to fight it.

It wasn’t until Eddie came home that you awoke again, and not until you felt his soft touch on your shoulder. Your heavy eyes opened slowly as you found him looking back at you with a look of concern.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he didn’t miss a beat and you silently cursed how observant he managed to be. You tried to shake your head and reassure him that you were fine but…definitely fell flat. Your throat was dry and scratchy and sound barely came out as you looked at him pathetically, “aww, baby. You’re sick, aren’t you?”

“No,” you croaked out, fooling either of you. Eddie huffed as crouched down and held the back of his hand to forehead. The corners of his mouth tugged into a frown, “I just need some rest.”

“Baby-”

“Really,” you insisted, “‘m fine.”

“You have a fever,” he raised his eyebrows as you fervently shook your head, only making the pounding worse.

“Are you a doctor now?" There was a pretty pout on your lips that Eddie wanted to kiss sway. You tugged up the blanket so it was covering your face. He chuckled fondly as he brushed your hair out of your face.

"Yes," he cheesed happily, "Dr. Concerned Husband. Now let me take care of you, stubborn thing."

"I can handle myself," your defenses were slowly coming down. Maybe it was Eddie's puppy dog eyes or the ache in your bones; probably a combination of the two.

"I know you can," he promised softly, "but I don't want you to have to. I've got you."

You looked at him, attempting to be strong, but once you saw those big, brown eyes, you couldn't handle it anymore. The tears started to pearl up and rolled your cheeks as your lip trembled and you sniffled. Eddie silently wrapped his arms around you, holding onto you gently and rubbing your back in soothing circles. You burrowed your face into his chest, long beyond thinking about getting him sick; he clearly didn’t care and you knew that you’d take care of him if the roles were to reverse. A few small, pathetic sounds escaped your lips “‘m sorry for being such a baby. I just feel so shitty.”

“That’s not you being a baby, baby,” he peppered kisses to the side of your head, “that is you have a normal reaction to not feeling well.”

“I just wanna go to bed and sleep,” you pouted at him and he nodded in acknowledgment, silently commiserating with you.

“I know baby,” he promised, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “but have you eaten today? Maybe a nice hot shower or bath would help.”

“I ate some yogurt this morning,” you already knew that Eddie was going into full blown mother hen mode, “but I wasn’t feeling good at all, so I didn’t eat anything else.”

“I think you should eat something,” he chided softly, “even if it's just some broth, yeah? Something simple and lots of water.”

“Then maybe a bath?” the idea of soaking your tired, aching bones into a tub of hot water and soft bubbles sounded magical. Eddie nodded softly as you relaxed slightly; if you were being honest, just his mere presence was already making you feel better, “will you join me?”

“As if I’d miss that opportunity,” he teased, brushing his fingers along your jaw. You started to laugh, but it was quickly turned into a coughing fit, “oh honey. You are going to rest here, in a warm little nest, while I go and make some soup. After that it’ll be a bath and then - and you’re not going to work tomorrow.”

“Eddie.”

“Princess,” he took your face in hands and you could see the love that was etched into his features, “I’m going to take care of you and that’s not up for debate. Yes?”

“Yes,” you promised softly, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You want me to undress you?” there was a small bit of amusement in his voice as you held your arms and offered him a sheepish little expression, “yeah, you do. Alright, pretty girl, let me help you.”

Eddie’s movements were gentle and tender as he slowly took off your sweater and bra, before following suit with your jeans, underwear and socks. You half expected him to make a comment about the current situation, but tonight he didn’t. Instead he studied you with reverent affection, “don’t - I look horrid probably.”

“On the contrary,” he made it clear that there was no room for argument, “you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You always are - but now, into the tub and do not argue with me.”

“Fine,” you huffed playfully as he held out his hand to help steady you as you stepped into the tub. An unstoppable sigh of relief at the feeling of the warmth and the lavender smell of the bubbles escaped your lips as you eased your body into the tub. Once you were all settled and engulfed in the water, you closed your eyes, “this feels like heaven.”

“Well, this is certainly my idea of heaven,” his smile was beaming as you peeked one eye at him, “but right now I just want to make you feel better.”

“Join me.”

“Don’t you want me to wash your hair? And your body?” he raised an eyebrow in amusement as you shook your head, “never heard you turn that down before. That’s how I know you’re really not doing well.”

“Just wan’ you,” you were ready to plead with this man if you had to, “please, my love? Pretty please with all the cherries on top?”

“You don’t have to beg,” your husband stood up and whisked his shirt, revealing his pale, inked torso - which you shamelessly marveled at - before practically kicking off his jeans. You laughed softly, stopping yourself before it turned into another coughing spell, “you can have whatever you want.”

“Well, I want you,” you scooted over to the other side of the tub so he could get in. Eddie gently lowered himself into the water, grimacing slightly at how hot you liked the water. He made a sound of content as his legs bracketed yours, “hi.”

“Hi,” he whispered back, holding his hand out to you, “you really gonna stay at the other end of the tub?”

“No,” you shrugged, “but didn’t want to assume you wanted me right in your space.”

“I always want you in my space,” he scoffed, “that’s never anything you have to doubt.”

You let him tenderly pull you over, settling on his thighs as you sat back and leaned against his chest. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist as you sighed wistfully. Eddie pressed a row of soft kisses to your shoulder, and you turned your face to kiss his cheek.

“This feels nice,” you were already feeling sleepy again as your eyes started to flutter close, “I’m sorry in advance if I fall asleep for a few minutes.”

“I’m not,” you really, really loved this stubborn, strong-willed man, “you need your rest and you’re going to get it. No if, ands, or buts.”

“Yes sir,” you reached for his hand and laced your fingers together, smiling when you felt him give your hand a squeeze.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Come on baby,” your eyes opened slowly at the sound of his voice as you looked up at him. He was already dressed in clean pajamas, holding out a warm towel for you, “let's get you to bed sleepyhead.”

“I bet you warmed that towel, huh?” you stood up slowly, immediately swallowed by the towel that Eddie wrapped around your body. Just as you suspected, it was extra warm and fluffy, “you did! What an amazing husband you are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink as you made sure your entire body was covered, “whatever you say sweetheart.”

He steered you towards the bedroom before pulling back the covers, “bed has never looked so good before.”

“Stay there for one moment,” he was out of the room and running back downstairs before you could even say anything. You saw down on the edge of the bed, already fatigued by the simple act of getting out of the bath. Within a few moments you heard him run back up, breathless by the time he re-entered the bedroom, but grinning nonetheless. He held up your clean, warmed pajamas with a small sound of triumph, “ta-da. All ready for you, baby.”

Without you even needing to say a word, he came over to help dress you, his movement slow and methodical. Once he was done, you were thoroughly warm and sleepy, smiling at him like a fool, “thank you, my love. You are so wonderful.”

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he tossed the towel to the side, a worry for later, before starting to tuck you in, “now you can get some rest.”

“Only if you get in with me.”

“That was my plan,” he pulled the covers up and made sure you were bundled, “I’m just going to get us some water, okay?”

“My hero!”

“Very funny,” he pecked your forehead, “I’ll be back in a moment, baby.”

“I’ll be right here.”

“You better be,” he shot you a wink before reluctantly leaving you, even if it was just for a few moments.

Eddie tidied up the kitchen for just a moment before getting plenty of water and going back up the stairs. By the time he made it back into the bedroom, you were already asleep and snoring softly. He was glad - you needed and deserved the rest. He set the water down on the nightstand by your side of the bed, making sure to put some medicine there as well.

He brushed the away the few locks of hair that were in your face before kissing your cheek. You made a small sound but didn’t stir otherwise; he was almost positive that a small smile was tugging up the corner of your mouth.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered, turning off the light before walking to his side of the bed. He crawled into bed next to you, delicately as possible so he wouldn’t disturb you, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader

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hookhausenschips · 3 months

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Okay I have a brilliant idea ready? 111, 119, and 120 with Matt and Nick Jackson. Girllll imagine the filth

Siri play Nasty song by Lil Ru cause this person is FILTHY NASTY

Prompts (111) “You like it when we both fuck you at the same time right, babygirl?” (119) “Would you want to make a private video for the two of us?” (120) “Mmm that’s right smile for the camera.”

Word Count: 1,474

Summary: Y/N becomes a “Movie Star” with two famous brothers of the wrestling industry.

Masterlist

Young Bucks Taglist: @obl1vionblackhart, @redpool

Join my Taglist here!

A/N: Babyyyy this is filthy. I really tried my best to write this while being sick I know you sent this in back in early December, but I hope you love it! (Not proofread)

Third Person POV

The arena was buzzing with excitement as the fans eagerly awaited the main event of the night. The lights were dimmed and the music blared as the two top tag teams made their way to the ring. The Young Bucks, Matt and Nick Jackson, were greeted with cheers and chants from the crowd. They were known for their high-flying, acrobatic style of wrestling and were fan favorites. But what the crowd didn't know was that the brothers had a secret side to them, one that only a select few knew about. As the match began, the Young Bucks showcased their impressive moves, flipping and jumping around the ring, leaving their opponents in awe. But amidst all the chaos, there was one person who caught their eye – Y/N. She was a professional wrestler herself, but not just any wrestler, she was known for her seductive and dominant persona in the ring. And the Young Bucks couldn't help but be drawn to her.

As the match progressed, Y/N could feel the intense gaze of the Young Bucks on her. She smirked, knowing that they were interested in her. And she couldn't deny that she was also intrigued by them. After all, they were two of the most talented and attractive wrestlers in the business. In the final moments of the match, Y/N's team emerged victorious. The crowd erupted in cheers, and the Young Bucks were left in awe of Y/N's skills. As the match ended, they made their way backstage, but the Young Bucks had a different destination in mind. They wanted to talk to Y/N.

As Y/N entered her locker room, she was surprised to see the brothers waiting for her. They wasted no time in approaching her, their eyes filled with desire. Without any words, they pushed her against the wall, their lips crashing onto hers in a hungry kiss.Y/N moaned into the kiss, feeling the heat and passion emanating from the Young Bucks. She could feel their hands roaming all over her body, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal. She knew that this was going to be a night to remember.

Matt and Nick wasted no time in stripping Y/N of her wrestling gear, revealing her toned and curvaceous body. They couldn't believe how perfect she looked, and they were eager to explore every inch of her. Matt and Nick took turns kissing and caressing Y/N's body, leaving trails of hot kisses and love bites. They made their way down to her breasts, taking turns sucking and nibbling on her sensitive nipples. Y/N arched her back, moaning in pleasure as her body responded to their touch. The brothers then led the girl to the couch on the other side of the room after locking the door. Nick and Matt had more in store for Y/N. Matt and Nick's lips moved down her body, leaving a trail of hot kisses and causing her to squirm with pleasure. They reached her panties, and with a mischievous look, they tore them off, exposing her dripping wet center.

Y/N's breath hitched as Matt started licking and sucking on her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She gripped onto his hair, pushing his face deeper into her, wanting more. Matt moaned at her taste as Nick continued his assault on Y/N’s chest. Y/N gripped the couch, her head thrown back as she moaned loudly, her legs trying to close around Matt’s head. “Fuck Nick she tastes so sweet.” Matt groaned as he slowly teased Y/N’s entrance with two fingers. Nick leaned in to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as Matt continued eating her out like it was his last meal. Y/N gasped as Matt’s fingers found their way inside her, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge. Just as she was about to reach her peak, the brothers switched positions, with Matt taking over the kiss and Nick focusing on her pleasure. Y/N couldn't believe the level of pleasure she was experiencing - it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Her mind was buzzing. As she reached her climax, the brothers slowed down their movements, bringing her down from her high with gentle kisses and caresses.

After a few moments of catching their breath, Nick spoke up. "Would you want to make a private video just for the two of us?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. Y/N's heart raced at the thought of capturing this incredible experience on camera. She nodded eagerly, and the brothers grinned, knowing they had found someone who shared their love for adrenaline and adventure. Y/N couldn't believe how incredibly turned on she was by the whole situation. The thrill of being filmed while having sex with two of the hottest wrestlers in the industry was almost too much to handle. Nick reached for the camera on the ring and turned on the camera, making sure to capture every angle as the girl moved to her knees in front of the other Jackson.

Y/N wasted no time in unzipping their pants and pulling out their already hard cocks. She licked her lips in anticipation, savoring the moment before she took them in her mouth. She started with Matt, her lips wrapping around his thick shaft as she began to suck and bob her head, her tongue swirling around his tip. Matt let out a low groan, his hands threading through her hair as he guided her movements. Meanwhile, Nick was eagerly awaiting his turn, his own cock twitching in anticipation. Y/N switched her attention to Nick, taking him deep into her mouth and sucking him just as enthusiastically as she did Matt. The brothers couldn't believe the pleasure they were feeling, both from Y/N's skilled mouth and the thrill of potentially being caught. They took turns thrusting into her mouth, each time feeling a surge of pleasure course through their bodies. "Please, I need you inside me," Y/N begged, her voice dripping with desire.

The dimly lit room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin. Y/N was sandwiched between the two men she had been fantasizing about for months. As the brothers moved in perfect synchronization, their bodies pressed against hers, Y/N couldn't help but moan loudly. She had always been attracted to both of them, but never in her wildest dreams did she think she would end up in bed with them. Matt leaned down and whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "You like it when we both fuck you at the same time right, babygirl?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. Y/N nodded, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as Nick's hands roamed her body, teasing and touching every inch of her skin. The brothers had always been known for their high-flying, acrobatic moves in the wrestling ring, but in the bedroom, they were just as skilled and coordinated.

Matt's hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he pounded into her. Nick's hands roamed her body, teasing her nipples and making her moan even louder. The feeling of being completely filled by the two brothers was almost too much to handle, but you loved every second of it. Y/N felt like her body was floating as pleasure burned every nerve in her body. Her mind felt numb, the only thought that consumed it was the two brothers rearranging her insides. The pleasure was too much for Y/N to handle, and she felt her orgasm building rapidly. Matt and Nick could sense it too and they increased their pace, their thrusts becoming harder and faster. "Come for us, Y/N," Nick growled, his voice sending shivers down her spine. And with that, Y/N exploded in a mind-blowing orgasm, her body shaking and convulsing as she squirted all over Matt and Nick.

The brothers pulled out and began to stroke themselves off. Pulling herself to her knees swaying slightly from exhaustion she opened her mouth eagerly waiting for the two men to finish. The men moved their hands along their cocks faster, groaning, feeling their climaxes fastly approaching. “Oh fuck” and “Shit babygirl” rang through the room as the two brother’s painted the girl’s face and chest with their release. Nick then grabbed the camera pointing it at the girl as she dipped some of the cum onto her two fingers and sucked the substance off of them. "Mmm that's right, smile for the camera," he said, his voice dripping with desire. The girl grinned at the two men, “Round two in the shower?”

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