#unrelated: love when I get an ask opening with ‘hey rein’

[skinandscales-if]

Hello Rein! Hope you're doing well :) I wanted to, first, thank you for adding the ability to have disabilities in-game. It means a lot to me and, I'm sure, to others as well <3. I also wanted to know how we'll see the physical disabilities present themselves throughout the game? My MC, like myself, is HOH. I haven't tested other paths (yet!) but I really like what I've seen so far. I'm so curious to see the effects they'll have on the story/MC!!

Hey there! :D I appreciate this message more than you know- I really wanted to make the representation (if limited) significant in game, so I’m really genuinely glad to know that you find it fitting!

I think I’ve mentioned very briefly in some random tags before that the whole story, in its first phases, was extremely personal to me because it happened alongside me recognizing my own mental disabilities, so there’s a lottt of themes centered around concepts of community, care, and how society treats it. I won’t be able to cover all of the nuanced ground a conversation like that deserves, but I can sure as hell write some fictional dragons talking about it !

I’m hoping to make this clear especially to players who make their MC’s disabled in one way or another! There are currently multiple conversations planned about just this between the MC and the cast, with every character with their own relationship to it. For example, Skye is a lot more comfortable talking with someone with visible disabilities like her about her history, while Puck is still getting used to having such company. (sneak peek below the cut at the bottom👀)

So though for now it’s mostly flavortext, I’m really excited to dive into the heftier stuff in future chapters, where the significance really kicks in. It doesn’t make much sense to me for characters to just ignore this, especially when the story so heavily centers around similar themes, yknow?

Anyways! Sorry for the ramble didn’t mean to just talk at you lol but I hope you have a wonderful day anon! <3

[EXCERPT: “Me? Psh- nah.” They reply, lifting a hand and adjusting their glasses as they look back out at the scene ahead of them. The group is still talking. “I'm not nearly that talented. I'm basically half-blind anyways.”

<<if $blindeye is true>>They take a second before whipping their head to look back to you, eyes flashing with worry as they let out a sudden regretful bark of awkward laughter.

“Shit. Not like that. You know what I mean- sorry.”]

[todoscript]

Love Capsule

anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?

genre: fluff pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 4.8k+ warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.

author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).

There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.

It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.

“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”

Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”

“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.

“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”

“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.

“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.

“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.

“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.

Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should’ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.

It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.

Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.

“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.

“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.

“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.

The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”

When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.

“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.

What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.

What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.

“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”

At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.

“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”

Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”

His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.

It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.

“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.

So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.

But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.

“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.

“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.

“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.

Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.

Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.

As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”

Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.

You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.

At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.

The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.

But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?

Deku. Fucking Deku.

Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.

But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.

But it seems God just desires to spite him.

“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.

“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.

“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.

“No.”

“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.

He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.

Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.

“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.

“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.

Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.

Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.

Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.

“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.

“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.

Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.

Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.

By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.

The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—

“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.

Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.

Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.

Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.

Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.

“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.

“Huh? Why?”

“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”

His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.

Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.

Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.

Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.

Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.

Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.

And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.

And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.

The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.

You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.

Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.

“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.

With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.

“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.

When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.

Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!

The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.

Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!

“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”

Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.

It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.

“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.

“I… Urgh… Fuck…”

You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.

“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.

“No. Tell me.”

With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.

“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.

“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.

“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”

He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”

The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.

“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.

“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.

His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.

“You got yourself a deal, princess.”

You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”

“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”

“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”

“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”

“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”

You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.

“I want one too!”

Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.

“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”

“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.

“Argh… I mean... scram!”

You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.

Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.

“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.

He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.

You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.

“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”

Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.

[elvish-sky]

Say That Again {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: Do I really like this fic? Yes, I do. Will I possibly be re-writing it and turning it into a multi-part? Yes, I will. Thank you so much to the two Anons who requested this- I kinda went a little off of your exact requests, so I hope that’s ok, but I was super inspired by them. I’m very proud of this, and I really hope you all like it!

Requested by Anons on Tumblr: Can I request a Legolas x reader fic where the reader is an archivist for the library in Mirkwood and Legolas begins to visit more often just to see the reader? Over the months, they get very close and eventually end up confessing/sharing a small kiss, and the reader whispers, “I love you.” afterward. Legolas, having not heard those words directed towards him in a long time, is breathless. then, shyly, he tells the reader to say it again😶

and

Hey! I love your writing, by the way. I know you probably get a lot of these, so no pressure, but I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader fic? maybe where the reader is like an archivist/librarian for the woodland realm, and Legolas is doing research on the sickness in his homeland. together, they both find that Sauron has returned, and become really close over the time they’ve spent together. maybe the reader could join the fellowship with him? it’s just an idea based on a fic I read a while ago. you could do what you like with it, but I thought you could turn it into whatever you like. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,431

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, other than that I think that’s it. 

****

Say That Again

You sat curled up in your favorite chair in the back corner of the library and began to read, taking a break from your work. You were an archivist for the Library of the Woodland Realm, and you loved your job. Books were one of your favorite things in life, and so it was only natural for you to work in the library. Not only was it full of tomes of knowledge, but it was also absolutely stunning. Like everything else in the kingdom, it embodied nature, with smooth sweeping arches of stone and vines trailing along the walls. There were cuts in the stone to allow sunlight to brighten the dark, and the dust shone in the sunbeam on your table that was also illuminating your (h/c) hair, making it glow.

You looked up as someone plopped into the seat across from you. Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm, had started visiting the library rather suddenly several weeks ago, looking for answers about the blight and darkness that were spreading through the forest. Shocked at first about how much he cared about the forest, and then even more so at how interested he was in you, it had been rather awkward at first. He was the prince, and you were just another elf, of no importance. Despite your differences, you had become fast friends, although you had wished for more since you had first laid eyes on him, years ago. 

He slammed a thick book down onto the table. “I think this one may contain the answers!” You glanced at the title. Blights of Nature and Their Causes. As much as you did not want to get your hopes up, this one looked promising. 

“Where did you find this?” you flipped open the cover, admiring the pretty endpapers. Whoever had authored this book had clearly taken the time to make sure it was presentable.

“In the ‘Ancient Lore’ section, the top of the last shelf.” You could tell he had been in the far reaches of the library, he was absolutely covered in dust. You absentmindedly reached out to brush off his shoulder, making him blush, but you quickly withdrew your hand once you realized what you were doing. 

“What were you doing back there?” 

“I figured that we’ve had no luck looking in the places where it would make sense to find answers, so I looked in a place where it wouldn’t make sense.” 

You chuckled at his explanation. “That may be the least-well thought out reasoning I have ever heard.” 

“Nevertheless, this one might be it. I mean, it mentions blights in the title! What’s happening outside is definitely a blight.” 

You could understand his excitement. You had been looking for some sort of explanation for weeks, and the darkness was only spreading. You bent over the book, head bowed next to his as you poured over the pages together.

Sometime later, you awoke, hearing a gasp, to find your head resting on Legolas’ chest. You were somehow lying between his legs with the book resting on your stomach as he peered at it over your shoulder. “What is it?” you responded to his cry, blinking groggily. “I think I’ve found something.” Your eyes scanned the page he was on, flying across the words as you searched for what he meant. They came to a rest on the line A spreading of darkness in a forest, and an infestation of dark creatures, often herald the arrival of dark sorcery. 

“Dark sorcery?” you glanced up at him, your worry mirrored in his eyes looking back at you. 

“It makes sense,” you could feel his mind spinning, sense his brain questioning, searching for an answer. “But what sorcery is strong enough to corrupt the Woodland Realm?”

 “I do not know,” you replied. “But I fear for all our safety against one this powerful. We must learn who is doing this.” 

“I know of someone who may be able to answer our questions.” Legolas strode into the library the next morning with a purposeful air. You looked up from your work. He was wearing a tunic and leather boots, like always, and his hair loose except for those two small braids on either side of his head. He looked, to put it simply, absolutely wonderful. But then, when did he not?

You were sure that you didn’t look half as put together- you had spent the whole night after he left-which was admittedly not much, he had stayed pretty late- pouring over ancient manuscripts and old texts, trying to find mention of any sorcerers powerful enough to corrupt a whole forest. You had found nothing, and looked rather worse for wear.

“Who?” you were frantically attempting to rein in your unruly hair as you spoke.

“Gandalf the Grey. I sent him a bird last night and he replied, he has found something most troubling and thinks it may be related. I’m traveling to Rivendell today on unrelated business and he’ll be there, so I’ll ask him then.” 

Now you were busy brushing out your clothes and picking lint off of them. Legolas looked at you, eyes drawn from where they had been steadily focused on the wall behind you by your frantic movements. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He grabbed your hand. “I’m just… nothing.” You looked down in embarrassment, eyes firmly fixed on his boots. “You’re primping, aren’t you?” “Well, it’s not fair for you to just tramp in here looking perfect all the time!” You stepped back from him, realizing what you had just said. “Well, you- uh- you don’t look perfect, per se, more like… well put together!” 

Your self-conscious stammering had just made you feel worse. “Look, Legolas. I’m sorry. I very much did not mean to say that.” “It’s ok, Y/N. I do look pretty great.” He did a little twirl to show off just how great, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks again. 

“Now, Y/N, you might want to go upstairs and grab some things for the road if we want to be out of the forest by midday.”

“Wait- I’m coming?”

“Of course, Y/N! You didn’t think that after all of the help you gave me you wouldn’t be included when we finally get our answer?” 

Sheepishly, you nodded.

“Ok, well, go pack. I’ll put these books back and be waiting ready to go.”

“Thank you, Legolas!” you exclaimed as you turned to the door. “Love you!” 

“What did you just say?” Legolas spoke, and you spun to see him, face pale with shock, leaning against your table. 

“I said thanks.” It had been a passing comment, and you didn’t remember saying anything else. Until you did. “Oh, shit!” you clapped a hand over your mouth and internally smacked yourself. If he did not dislike me for my oddities before, he’ll hate me now, you thought. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a slip of the tongue, it meant nothing…” you trailed off as he stepped closer to you.

He grabbed your chin in his hand, gazing into your eyes. “Say that again.” 

“It meant nothing?” you were so very confused. 

“No, Y/N. The other thing.” He looked mildly exasperated with you now but was still gazing at you with that peculiar expression on his face.

“I love you?” you stammered, wondering if that was, in fact, the right thing to say. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

With this, his hand on your chin guided your lips to press against his. Finally, you thought as you melted into the kiss, surrendering yourself to him. You had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. Your hands were tangled in his hair like you’d wanted them to be ever since you’d first met him. One of his was supporting your neck, and the other was wrapped around your back, pulling you closer into him.

Panting, you broke away. “I should go pack. We want to be on the road soon.” He nodded, seeming to come back to reality. “I’ll be waiting here when your ready, melleth nin.” He said the words to your retreating back, and as you heard them you smiled. Spinning around again, you strode back to him and grabbed his shirt to pull his lips down to yours. “We can wait ten more minutes, right?” “Of course.” He kissed you again, and you lost yourself in him, his arms wrapped around you, holding on to each other as you would be for the rest of your lives. 

Everything tag 💖: @entishramblings @boyruins @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard

[reddeadmort]

Hey can I request an Arthur x female reader where the reader gets kidnapped by the O’Driscolls and they take advantage of her. Which then Arthur finds her a couple days later with John and takes her back to camp. The reader asks Arthur to help her forget about the last couple of days (smuttttyyyyyXD) and Arthur’s like really soft and slow with her but has his hand on her throat the entire time bc she’s is a kinky bitch! Btw your stories fucking SLAPPPPP they sooo goood gosh

Okay, this has been sat in my inbox for ages, sorry anon! This story is a bit different from the request as I really didn’t want to leave the reader alone with the O’Driscolls for too long and didn’t want there to be any actual ‘taking advantage of’. So, instead, the reader is *almost* taken advantage of, with some minor sexual assault (groping) implied as happening during the kidnapping. Obviously, big trigger warning, please don’t read if any of the guidance notes will make you uncomfortable.

This is my longest and most explicit attempt at smut, hopefully it *hits the spot*!

Arthur x f! reader | Safe places and words | NSFT

Guidance: Violence, threats of sexual assault, implied minor sexual assault (groping), almost major sexual assault. Smut, but unrelated to/separate from mentions of assault. Smut includes blowjob, choking, and biting. NSFW/NSFT

Words: 4k (this just kept on going).

“That’s great Jack, well done!” You patted Jack on the back as he carefully reeled in the small fish. “See I knew you’d manage it! Uncle Arthur’s been giving you some fishing tips hasn’t he.” Jack jumped up and down excitedly as you carefully unhooked the fish from the line to show to him. “Here, hold still, lift it up, I’ll take a picture for your parents before we throw it back.” You took the picture as quickly as you could – you were pretty sure it would be blurry, thanks to Jack being incapable of holding in his energy.

“Thanks Auntie Y/N, maybe this isn’t so boring!” Jack said as he threw the little fish back in the river. You were both watching it swim away when you heard a voice behind you.

“Well ain’t this…. Sweet”. You turned sharply to look at the three new arrivals, instinctively moving jack behind you, one hand resting on you revolver. Shit. O’Driscolls. What the hell are they doing this close to camp?

“Look, fellas, I don’t want no trouble. I’m just relaxing with the kid.” You wanted to back away further, but you were already at the edge of the water. Two of the men were moving slowly towards you, one on each side, blocking any escape; you were fast with your revolver, but not fast enough to take down all three, and you couldn’t risk anything happening to Jack.

“We can see that girly” the leader sneered, standing in front of you. “Tell you what, why don’t we help out? We can teach the lad a thing or two….” As he said this, the leader nodded to the man to your left, and before you could do anything he grabbed at Jack. You launched yourself at him, only to be grabbed from behind by the other man. He pulled your arms behind your back as you kicked and screamed, hoping desperately someone might hear. Jack had started crying; the noise of his sobs made your adrenaline surge even further.

“You really don’t want to do this, his dad and the others will come after you.” You tried to slow your breathing, bring your heart rate under control. The only way you were getting out of this was with words.

“Oh, we know girl, we know. That’s exactly why we’re doing this.” The leader smirked at you as your heart sank. “You’re going to go back to your little camp and tell Marston that we’ve got his precious little boy. Then you’re going to tell him to come to us, alone, tomorrow at noon. We’ll send a message tomorrow with a location, maybe with a bit of….motivation attached. If he doesn’t come, or if he doesn’t come alone, we’ll start using bits of little Jack here for fish food.”

“You bastards! They’ll kill you all!” you screamed at the man, unable to control your rage.

“No, missy, they won’t. Because if they try, Jack’s mother will be burying him as well as his father. Well, burying whatever is left of him anyway.” Jack was still sobbing, he didn’t really understand what was going on, but he knew from your reaction that you were in trouble. “Come on lads, let’s get going. Give her a clout, best if she’s out for a while.” The man behind you released one of your arms, drawing his pistol and raising the butt above your head, ready to strike.

“WAIT!” you yelled, breaking free and rushing forwards. Your mind was racing, you had to get Jack out of this situation.

“Take me. Take me instead, let Jack go back to camp.”  The men laughed at this, you were going to have to try harder. “I’ll be quieter than him. I won’t cause trouble.” The man holding Jack was starting to walk away, and you could hear the man behind you moving closer again. Think, think! “I…..you….. you could have some fun with me.” The words almost made you puke, the thought of these men touching you, but you’d do anything to save Jack.

That got their attention. The leader stepped closer to you, still grinning a horrible, evil, gappy grin. “Nah, missy, as tempting as that sounds, you ain’t as valuable. Dutch ain’t going to send one of his main men out looking for one of you camp bitches.”  

“I ain’t just one of the girls.” You were going to regret giving this information away, you knew it, but you had to convince them to make the trade.

“Well then missy, who are you exactly?” The man leered at you, moving even closer, so you could feel his breath on your face.

“Y/N. Y/N Morgan.”  That name had the desired effect, and the leader gave a low whistle.

“Arthur dead would hurt Dutch more” the man holding Jack grunted at him.

“It sure would, Peter, it sure would…..” Before you could do anything, the man in front of you had grabbed you by the throat.

“Right, girly, I think we’ll take you up on your offer. And I mean all of your offer” the man’s face was almost touching yours now, and his breath made you almost gag. “You’ll only scream when we want you to. And believe me, you’re going to need to scream. You ain’t getting out of this. We’ll make sure Mr Morgan sees us slit your delicate little neck, and we’ll make him watch as you slowly die.”

Your heart was racing, but you kept your face perfectly still; you didn’t want to give them the pleasure of seeing the fear you were experiencing.

“I’ll be quiet” you said, through gritted teeth. “Just let me put Jack on my horse and send him off, it’s too far for him to walk.”

“Fine. Be quick. And only because we need him to get back to camp to tell Mr Morgan where you are.” He released you and practically threw you at Jack. Shaking, you walked over and took a still sobbing Jack from the other man. You carefully placed him on your horse, and quickly started scribbling a note.

“Girl, what the hell do you think you’re doing” the man snatched at the paper, but you pulled it away from him.

“I’m writing down the instructions, you bastard. He’s only young, even if he does remember them he’ll be too upset to say anything” you snarled back at the man. He sneered at you, before calling out to his men.

“You two, check the note.”

“Hey, you know I can’t read.”

“Me neither.”

“Goddammit” the leader muttered. You guessed that neither could he. “Just hurry up girl, before I decide to send the boys lifeless body back on the damn horse” he snapped at you before walking over to his own. You quickly finished the note and handed it to Jack.

“Right Jack, I know you’re upset, but I need you to be a brave boy for me, okay? My horse should take you directly back to camp, don’t worry. You hold on as tight as you can, and when you get to camp you give this note to Uncle Arthur, okay?” Jack swallowed and nodded, tears still dripping down his face. “I love you Jack, remember that.” With those last words, you slapped your horse on the rear, sending it trotting off back up the path.

With your back to the O’Driscolls, you quickly and silently slipped a knife from the sheath strapped to your thigh and sliced the blade across the palm of your hand. You winced slightly, staying as still as possible, hoping they hadn’t noticed. Keeping your fist clenched, you turned just as they grabbed you, pulling off your weapons and knocking the knife out of your other hand.

“Nice try missy. Now, you’re riding with me. I want a little…..preview of the fun we’re going to have tonight.”

You said nothing, and let the man bundle you onto his horse, sitting behind you. One hand on the reins, the other gripping you tightly – and not by the waist – you set off. You held your cut hand out as far as you could, under the pretence of needing balance, and squeezed, feeling the blood run over your fingers. You just hoped you could keep it bleeding for as long as possible.  

——

John was the first to see Jack and your horse as they gently trotted back into camp. At first, he wasn’t too concerned, expecting to see you right behind; but as they got closer, he realised you weren’t there.

“Jack, what’s happened? Where’s Y/N?” Jack immediately burst into tears, and John quickly hoisted him off the horse and hugged him tight.

“There….was…..some…..men” Jack managed to get the words out between sobs. “I have a….” Jack held the crumpled note up to his father; it was slightly damp from his tears.

“ARTHUR!” John yelled, opening the note.

“John, what the hell do you want” Arthur grumbled as he walked over.

“O’Driscolls have got Y/N” John said, his voice cracking slightly, as he handed the note to Arthur. Arthur’s face paled as he read your hastily written instructions. “Any idea what those last two words are?” John asked before handing Jack to Abigail, who had been attracted by his shout.

Arthur looked at the two words at the end of the note. ‘Strawberry Doe’. You hadn’t dared write more than that. But Arthur didn’t need anymore to understand what you’d done.

“John, get your guns. We’ve got some killin’ to do.” Arthur growled.

“But Arthur, we don’t know where they’ve gone.” It wasn’t really a protest - John was already prepping the saddle on his horse -  more a panicked comment.

“She’s left us a trail. We’ll track ‘em down like the animals they are.” John didn’t think he’d ever seen Arthur’s eyes like this. They were cold, emotionless, like he’d shut down.

As the two men rode out of camp, pounding towards the fishing spot, Arthur finally felt something other than rage start to sweep over him. It was fear. The fear of losing you, the fear of not being able to protect you…….

—–

It was early evening when you finally stopped at an abandoned old hut. Stuck in front of this lecherous, disgusting creature of a man, you had basically frozen, letting your mind disassociate. The ride was horrible, uncomfortable, but nothing more than you’d experienced in many saloons; at least those drunk bastards got their comeuppance when they groped you.

You were pulled roughly off the horse, your hands tied behind your back, and led into the dark basement. You knew what was coming, you just prayed that you could endure it for as long as it took Arthur to find you.

To your surprise, the leader shoved you to the floor before turning to leave.

“Me and the boys are going to eat before our fun starts, sweetheart” he leered at you. “Need to make sure we’ve got plenty of… energy.” He paused, licking his lips, before shutting the doors to the basement behind him, leaving you in total darkness.

Finally alone, you let a little sob escape from your throat. All you could think about was Arthur. Would you ever see him again? Would he even be able to look at you if he did?

And so you sat, in the cold, in the darkness, waiting.

——

Arthur and John rode in silence, occasionally stopping to search for the next part of your trail. There was nothing to say; there was no plan, only anger and fear. These men were going to die, and not well.

“Arthur…. I can’t see anythin’.” It was early evening and the light was fading fast.

“John, just keep lookin’!” Arthur snapped. “There has to be somethin’. Has to be……”

John didn’t retort, he knew it wasn’t him Arthur was angry at. He looked around, and spotted something in the distance.

“Arthur! Smoke. Looks like it’s comin’ from a cabin. Might just be normal folks though.”

“It’s our best hope. Come on.”

——

You had no idea how long you’d been down there in the dark. You’d done your best to keep calm, concentrating on your breathing. Stumbling around in the dark, unable to use your hands, you’d found a chair and a table; you’d crawled under the table and sat in the corner, back to the walls. It made you feel a bit safer; you tried to pretend that it was Arthur’s chest you were leaning against, not this damp, slimy, old stone.

Eventually, you heard the creak of the basement door hatches, and a figure made its way down with a lantern. Very briefly, you let yourself pray it was Arthur; but no, he was too short, too fat. You swore at yourself for even thinking it; of course it wasn’t Arthur, you’d heard no commotion, no gunshots. You didn’t even know if he was coming. Had Jack made it back? Had your horse actually gone back to camp, had Jack managed to cling on? Had Arthur understood your message?

Your slightly panicked thoughts were interrupted by the man grabbing you by the ankle, pulling you out from under the table, causing the back of your head to slam into the floor.

“It’s playtime girly! Now you better make some noise for me you little whore.” He lifted you up roughly by the front of your shirt then grabbed you hard by the chin. He moved his face next to yours and slowly, disgustingly, licked your cheek. “Just pretend I’m your big, bad outlaw. But don’t get too excited, me and the boys will be taking turns all throughout the night. And we don’t want you passing out now… it’s no fun if you aren’t awake to feel it.”

You wanted to fight back, to do something, anything but you couldn’t. You were completely frozen.

“Not even going to beg me? Well you’re a nasty girl ain’t ya.” With that, he turned you around and slammed your face and chest into the table, bending you over. Using your bound wrists to keep you pushed down, he pulled at your trousers with one hand, pulling them down to your knees. You heard him fumbling with his belt buckle, and you could have sworn that you were suddenly looking down on the scene from above; you could see yourself, bent over, face completely emotionless, and him, pulling at his trousers, pushing them down.

Suddenly, a familiar crack of a gunshot sounded above you, followed quickly by a series of others. You could hear yelling and screaming mixed in with the gunfire. The man released you, scrabbling over to the chair where he’d put his gun belt, reaching it as the basement doors flew open. He’d just pulled his gun out of the holster when a shot rang out, shattering his hand and sending the gun flying. Deafened slightly by the noise, you tried to stand up, struggling, and turned just enough to see the familiar shape of Arthur smash his revolver across the man’s face, sending what few teeth he had left flying. You’d never seen him hit anyone that hard before; sometimes, his strength was almost scary.

Arthur’s heart almost exploded with pain when he looked at you, trousers roughly pulled down, struggling to stand up. He quickly moved to you, leaving the unconscious man behind him. One brief flick of his knife and you were free; the first thing you did was grapple with your trousers, trying to pull them up. You never wanted Arthur to see you like this, not with another man, willingly or not. There were tears in the corner of his eyes as he grabbed you by the face, scanning yours for any injury.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner Y/N, so sorry” he said, choking on the words slightly.

Finally, with him stood in front of you, your adrenaline started to fade and a wave of relief washed over you. You threw your arms around him, breathing in his familiar, musky smell. You tried to say something, but all you could do was cry. In between sobs, you managed to explain that Arthur had arrived just in time. He held you tight, his arms and warmth seeming to form a protective bubble around you. After a few moments, he picked you up and took you up the stairs to a waiting John.

As soon as you saw John, your first thought went to his little boy. “Jack…. Is Jack okay? They were going to take him, John, I’m so sorry…..” As you spoke, Arthur gently let you down, standing you upright. John pulled you in for a hug, holding your face to his chest.

“He’s fine Y/N, he’s fine. Thanks to you. I’ll never forget this, you hear? Never.”

“John, you wait with her and the horses. I’ve got somethin’ to finish.” Before you could say anything, Arthur had grabbed some rope and walked away back into the basement. You thought about stopping him, but it only took a moment for you to decide the man deserved whatever was about to happen. John led you and the horses a little way off, but you could still see Arthur drag the man out by his hair, sitting him against a tree and tying him to it. You heard the man’s bloodcurdling screams as Arthur took his manhood from him, then begging as Arthur chucked what looked like bait on his bloodied lap.

Arthur walked back to you and John, wiping his blood-stained knife with a cloth.

“You finished?” John asked. He’d not seen Arthur do anything like this before; beat a man, yes, threaten, of course, even kill; but this….. this was a whole other level of rage.  

“I’ve done what I needed. I’ve left the wolves to do the rest.” Arthur muttered as he climbed onto the saddle behind you.

The ride back was silent; no-one knew what to say. Arthur held you tightly to him by the waist, clinging to you as if for dear life. Occasionally he gently kissed you on the neck, but only after asking you if he could. He’d never asked before; you knew he was just trying to be kind, make sure you were okay, but you hated it. You just wanted things to be exactly like they were before; you were scared he’d never look at you in the same way again.

When you arrived back at the camp, everyone came to fuss over you. You entertained them for as long as you could before pulling Arthur away to your shared tent.

Arthur was surprised when you grabbed at his face as soon as he’d pulled the flaps down. You kissed him hard, hungrily, biting at his lips. He kissed you back, but more hesitantly, causing you to pull away.

“Arthur……”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I just…..I’ll go, you’ll want some time alone.”

“Arthur Morgan, you have never tried to tell me what I do and don’t want. Do not start now.” You didn’t give him time to reply before once again pulling him back in for a kiss. This time, he didn’t resist, and gently brought his hands up to rest on your shoulders.

You let your hands drop from his face as you slowly undid his shirt buttons. As your hands moved back up his chest, you let them brush lightly over his nipples, making him moan, before pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Once again, you moved you hands over his chest, this time down to his belt. He grunted slightly as you pulled at it, swiftly undoing it and the top button as his hips pushed forwards. You slowly slipped your thumbs under the waistband and gently pulled his trousers down, levering them forwards over his erection.

You knelt as you guided his trousers to the ground, and Arthur’s hands moved to the back of your head. He let out a little grunt as you licked the head of his cock, before you took him in your mouth in one swift movement. He groaned and gripped your hair as you slid him in and out of your mouth, soaking him. You moved your hand up to his on the back of your head, wrapped it around his fist, and used it to pull your own hair. Arthur understood the signal, and pushed his hips forwards, driving himself into the back of your throat, making you gag. He pulled out slightly, letting you recover, before using his firm grip on your hair to dictate your speed. Soon, the movement of his hips became slightly erratic, and panting, he pulled away from you. This was just the prequel, he wasn’t about to ruin the main event.  

You stood up, undoing your trousers as Arthur made short work of your shirt. You lay down on the bed as Arthur pulled your trousers off, pausing momentarily to stare at you, completely naked before him. You shouldn’t have worried; his gaze was just as it always was, hungry, desperate to touch you, mind blank save for the thought of you.

Arthur was quickly on top of you, one hand tucked under your shoulder, the other moving between your legs. You moaned softly as he gently rubbed you, spreading your wetness up and over your clit. As he massaged it with his thumb, moving in steady circles, he slipped a couple of fingers inside you, testing you. No matter how much he wanted you, how much he needed you, he always made sure you were ready. And you were. 

He shifted forwards, replacing his thumb with the tip of his cock, rubbing against you. He kissed you as he pushed in, all the way, making you gasp and shudder. He bit your neck as moved back a fraction, before pushing deep again. He enjoyed this bit the most; every time felt like the first time you’d ever taken him, your reaction always the same. He gently started to move his hips backwards and forwards, kissing you, building up a rhythm as his hand moved to massage you breast. Your hand moved from his back to his wrist, and gently guided it up to your throat. He paused, looking into your eyes, slight concern showing on his face.

“You sure darlin’?” You nodded and bit your lip.

“Arthur please…. I want to feel normal. I want to feel loved…. I want to feel safe.” To anyone else, safe would have seemed like an odd choice of word to use, with a large man lying on top of you, hand on your throat. But it was true; this made you feel safe. Arthur would never hurt you, was always guided by you; you were always in control, even if it didn’t look that way.  

Arthur delicately kissed your lips before thrusting hard into you. His grip on your throat tightened, just enough to restrict your breathing and blood flow slightly. You kept your hand on his wrist, guiding his pressure, gently pulling at it if he put too much weight on you. He always responded immediately. Every time he pounded into you, he’d stop briefly when he was fully enveloped, grinding himself into your clit, just like you’d shown him. It wasn’t long before you were both on the brink. You came first, digging your nails into his skin, gasping his name. As soon as you had, he removed his hand from your throat and you lifted yourself up, biting his nipple; this took him over the edge, and he swore as he pushed into you hard, almost uncomfortably deep. He collapsed onto your chest, and you both stayed there for a moment, not moving, just listening to the other’s breathing.

“Thankyou Arthur. I needed that. It might not make much sense but….I….needed to regain some control.”

“Darlin’ that don’t surprise me. Though, honestly, you don’t ever make much sense to me.” He grinned, before sitting up, releasing you. “Now, we best get some rest. I think Jack wants to spend tomorrow with his favourite Aunt.”

“He’s a sweetheart, he really is. I might stay in the camp this time though” you chuckled, sitting up and resting your head on Arthur’s shoulder. He kissed you softly on the top of the head, stroking your lower back.

“You do whatever you want darlin’. I’ll always be here.”

[themusicenthusiast]

Wednesday, July 19th, 2017 – An Amped-up Dirty River Boys Leave a Near Capacity Crowd at Granada Theater in Awe

Night two of Granada Theater’s Free Week was all about Texas country music and they had some of the best of the multitude of acts that reside in the Lone Star State. That included The Dirty River Boys, a band whom I hadn’t seen in about eleven months… which is at least ten months too long. The thing about their performance at the Granada this night was that they had the main support slot, and the only time I recall not seeing them as the headliner was the festival where I first stumbled across them a few years back. Considering they routinely play for upwards of a couple of hours and their set time this night was just under an hour is was bound to be interesting, a slew of people being eager to see how it would play out, the Granada Theater being packed to the gills. It was pretty hard to pass up at the incredibly low price of free. They ripped right into it, beginning their first number as the screen covering the stage began to retract, things immediately sounding and looking quite different from the last time I had seen them. Marco Gutierrez and Nino Cooper had branched out from the acoustic guitars they used almost exclusively, each brandishing an electric, which was perfect for the fan favorite they opened with.

Often relegated to the encore portion of the show – if it’s played at all -- “She” was a pleasant surprise; the two electric guitars redefining the song, pushing it to new heights. It sounded bolder, some of the tones Cooper contributed at times being downright incredible, accenting the story Gutierrez was singing. “…She tore me apart. She’ll leave me to die. She’ll do the same to you even if you treat her right…”. “Granada Theater! How you doing out there?!” the singer asked at one point, a deafening roar being the response. The air was electric, everyone being in a state of excitement and awe thanks to that sizzling opener, and the quartet had no plans of relenting, Cooper taking over lead vocal duties for one of a handful of cuts from their most recent record. One I can’t say I’ve heard much of since they released The Dirty River Boys in late 2014, seemingly being worked out of the set list for some time. That said, it was great to hear “Highway Love” again, the most intense piece of work the band had done up to that point of their career being a perfect track to follow-up that first one. It encouraged the audience to further surrender to the moment and get lost in the music; Chris Hausler setting the rip-roaring pace with some thunderous percussion as they knocked out that rocker. During it Cooper took his guitar off, holding it high in the air as he kept singing before putting it up, finishing the song as more of a frontman, ultimately swapping out to his acoustic once it was done. “We missed you guys!!” Gutierrez remarked in the brief break that followed. (They may have played around the area since, though their last proper Dallas gig had been six months ago.) They then unleashed the first of a couple of new songs they had planned, Gutierrez mentioning after it that they were working on a new record and that number would “definitely” be on it. It gave that previous song a definite run for its money as it showcased a progression in their material. There was a definite punk rock vibe stitched into the fabric of it. Not what one might expect from a band that’s most often classified as being Americana or Texas country, though it speaks to the diverse collection of music they’re influenced by; and at its core, it still had that classic DRB style. Cooper wound them directly into their next song, another track from 2011’s Train Station EP, and a rarity at that. When seeing them last August I remember them mentioning “Magdalene” was a song they, for some reason, never played much even when it was new, though had decided to dust it off. And now they’ve polished it up a great deal; that blistering rock sound that had been present thus far being set (slightly) aside for their classic, more toned-down style, something more behooving of the poignancy that one captures. Seemingly at the behest of one group of fans, the band decided to do something that Gutierrez stated they hadn’t played in a while. Upright bassist Colton James took the reins for “Sailed Away”, the lively tune with a slight Celtic vibe being a favorite of the night, the audience getting more boisterous during it, shouting along and holding their drinks in the air, embodying that fun and carefree atmosphere The Dirty River Boys had been working to cultivate. Gutierrez busted out his acoustic axe for the subsequent track on their self-titled release, noting they had written it with Cory Morrow. “Thought I'd Let You Know” was about as restrained as they got during this 49-minute long set, though even that beautiful and airy sounding song had some striking moments that kept it in line with everything else. Before kicking it back in, Gutierrez and Hausler worked on an intro for the coming track, the soft yet still forceful tapping of the cymbals and the ominous licks resonating from the guitar meaning it could only be one thing. A dynamic cut off 2012’s Science of Flight, “Letter to Whoever” is a song they always push to be a little harder at live shows, and this night they took it to the extreme. Their up-tempo rendition was almost hard to keep up with… almost.  It was the most blistering song they played this night, one that whipped the spectators into a delighted, frenzied state; Hausler destroying it on the drums, his precision being impeccable with an abundance of energy behind every beat. That was also the song the four musicians seemed to enjoy most – at least up to that point – Gutierrez quipping afterwards that they liked to refer to that as “Texas punk Americana”. Talk then turned to something more personal to them as he briefly touched on the drug violence that had engulfed their hometown of El Paso in recent years, “Down by the River” being their reaction to it all, musically speaking. The lead single from their self-titled record saw Gutierrez changing back to his electric guitar, he and Cooper demonstrating what a behemoth they are when they combine their voices, each singing lead and even harmonizing at times. While it has been a highlight since it was introduced, the use of an electric guitar brought new life into it; this performance of “Down by the River” being exceptionally tight. For instance, Cooper pointed to Gutierrez at the exact moment he busted out a harmonica solo. There was no time to recover before their take on Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop”, that cover ending with them asking for some crowd participation, most everyone joining in, in shouting along with the “Hey, ho, let's go!” One more new song was planned, James singing lead on it, rather appropriately at that, thanks to the tunes “don’t give a fuck” attitude. (It essentially said as much in the lyrics as well, a bit brash and unapologetically owning one’s individuality and the fact that they are who they are.) It, too, had a punk rock venom coursing through it, it’s speedy pace bringing that out, and the crowd loving it. They reverted back to a more classic sound for their next number, an acoustic guitar in the mix, while Cooper grabbed a mandolin. “…This is one of my favorite venues to play,” Gutierrez stated as he thanked the Granada Theater for doing something like this Free Week. “There’s this amazing vibe here that you really can’t explain,” he added, genuinely meaning that. Somewhat surprisingly, “Boomtown” was the lone offering from their debut release, Long, Cold Fall, that staple song being one everyone had patiently been waiting for and they were more than willing to help sing it, being charged with tackling the second part of the verses that were done in rounds. Their time was running out and there seemed to be a long list of songs left that patrons wanted to hear. A quick cover of “Raise a Ruckus” served as a prelude to “Road Song”, a fitting way to start wrapping things up. “And I know this ride will soon come to an end…” Cooper belted out, being emotionally invested in it (and everything this night), as you could see the emotions bleeding through on his face at times. The mandolin was brought back out for their closer, “Raise Some Hell” being the only way to end things, the raucous anthem presenting the spectators with one last chance to shout along with and stomp their feet to the music. And everyone did, relishing their final moments with The Dirty River Boys, who had unquestionably delivered the best performance of the night, packed in to a set time that was just long enough to hit most of the key songs. I say most because, until this, I wouldn’t have considered it a Dirty River Boys show without “Carnival Lights”. In a way, it still wasn’t without that signature song, though I understand why it didn’t have a spot on the set list this night. Aside from the fact that they had a significantly shorter time with everyone, they also wanted to showcase some newer stuff, and everyone loved getting a glimpse at what they’ve been working on. There’s also the fact that this was an all-out rock show, and that song would have subtracted from that, throwing more of a lull into a performance that was so astounding due to it being unrelenting. Still, it was kind of weird that it was absent. Nevertheless, this was a brilliant show from The Dirty River Boys. I’ve been spellbound by them many times, though it had been awhile since I was in absolute awe. Ditching the two acoustic guitars in favor of electric ones, even if it was just on occasion, would have been something I would have been convinced would diminish their unique sound that has been a hallmark of their music. Arguably that’s what has helped make them a standout so far, their songs being unmistakable due to the gentleness they have and the ferocity they’re able to draw out of those instruments. It didn’t. The songs that utilized both electrics were more riveting than ever before, while those that relied on an electric and acoustic had new life breathed into them, the heart of each one being the same while boasting a different quality. On top of that, that seemingly brought out more energy from the four of them, the music being more rock oriented than ever before, providing all the more reason for them to hold nothing back and demonstrate as much vigor as possible. Perhaps some of that had to do with the environment as well. As Gutierrez had said, there is something about this room. He may well have been referring to being on that stage in this storied place, but on this night, at least for the time they were up there, everyone could feel that vibe flowing through them. It was one of the purest experiences that fans could ever hope derive from a concert, being one of those moments in time that could never be adequately described, the only ones having any true understanding of how sensational it was being those who witnessed it. It was electrifying and truly something special as the band and the spectators struck up a perfect rapport, neither party wanting to disappoint the other as they continuously found a way to offer up more energy. Cooper, Gutierrez, James and Hausler are performers and entertainers through and through, having just as much fun themselves as they strive to make certain their audience is having. Hands down one of the best things happening in the Lone Star State’s Americana scene at the moment, they now, more so than ever, seem capable of and ready to take the world by storm. Houston, Austin, New Braunfels and Alpine are the Texas cities they’ll be playing in as July comes to a close. On August 12th, they’ll be one of the acts performing at the Braun Brothers Reunion in Challis, ID, with plenty of shows in Montana on their way out there, along with hitting Washington state and Utah while they’re gone. Their next show in North Texas will be on August 26th at Love & War in Texas in Plano, and after that it will be in McKinney when they return to Hank’s Texas Grill on September 22nd. They’ll also be performing at the final day of the Medicine Stone festival in Tahlequah, OK on September 23rd. A complete list of their tour dates along with more info can be found HERE; and check out their previous releases in iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY.

[reddeadmort]

Hey, love your writing, keep up the good work! I was just wondering, and it's perfectly a-okay to say no, but would you consider posting a version of the fic where reader is kidnapped in place of Jack n'rescued by John & Arthur where you edit out the choking part? I loved the setting, drama, the brave n'resourceful protag, the inclusion of Jack(!!) n' I want to read the smut too but I have a strong phobia of not being able to breathe so I just can't deal w/anything that has to do w/choking :/

So I was perfectly happy to do this, especially for the lovely @nordic-breeze :) If any of you have already read the previous version, you’ll probably want to skip this one, it is almost exactly the same except with choking/breathing triggers removed. 

If anyone else has a request like this, please feel free to send it; I may not publish all alternative versions, but it really isn’t much effort for me to edit an existing text, and I can always send you a google doc link or something :) 

If you send requests in, please feel free to be specific with details like this; I don’t want a whole plot planned out in a request, but I am more than happy to include specific details or actively avoid certain triggers

Arthur x f! reader | “Safe places and words” - Alternative version | AO3

Guidance:

Violence, threats of sexual assault, implied minor sexual assault (groping), almost major sexual assault. Smut, but unrelated to/separate from mentions of assault. Smut includes blowjob, reader being pinned down by wrists (initiated by reader) and gentle biting. NSFW/NSFT

Words: 4k

“That’s great Jack, well done!” You patted Jack on the back as he carefully reeled in the small fish. “See I knew you’d manage it! Uncle Arthur’s been giving you some fishing tips hasn’t he.” Jack jumped up and down excitedly as you carefully unhooked the fish from the line to show to him. “Here, hold still, lift it up, I’ll take a picture for your parents before we throw it back.” You took the picture as quickly as you could – you were pretty sure it would be blurry, thanks to Jack being incapable of holding in his energy.

“Thanks Auntie Y/N, maybe this isn’t so boring!” Jack said as he threw the little fish back in the river. You were both watching it swim away when you heard a voice behind you.

“Well ain’t this…. Sweet”. You turned sharply to look at the three new arrivals, instinctively moving jack behind you, one hand resting on your revolver. Shit. O’Driscolls. What the hell are they doing this close to camp?

“Look, fellas, I don’t want no trouble. I’m just relaxing with the kid.” You wanted to back away further, but you were already at the edge of the water. Two of the men were moving slowly towards you, one on each side, blocking any escape; you were fast with your revolver, but not fast enough to take down all three, and you couldn’t risk anything happening to Jack.

“We can see that girly” the leader sneered, standing in front of you. “Tell you what, why don’t we help out? We can teach the lad a thing or two….” As he said this, the leader nodded to the man to your left, and before you could do anything he grabbed at Jack. You launched yourself at him, only to be grabbed from behind by the other man. He pulled your arms behind your back as you kicked and screamed, hoping desperately someone might hear. Jack had started crying; the noise of his sobs made your adrenaline surge even further.

“You really don’t want to do this, his dad and the others will come after you.” You tried to slow your breathing, bring your heart rate under control. The only way you were getting out of this was with words.

“Oh, we know girl, we know. That’s exactly why we’re doing this.” The leader smirked at you as your heart sank. “You’re going to go back to your little camp and tell Marston that we’ve got his precious little boy. Then you’re going to tell him to come to us, alone, tomorrow at noon. We’ll send a message tomorrow with a location, maybe with a bit of….motivation attached. If he doesn’t come, or if he doesn’t come alone, we’ll start using bits of little Jack here for fish food.”

“You bastards! They’ll kill you all!” you screamed at the man, unable to control your rage.

“No, missy, they won’t. Because if they try, Jack’s mother will be burying him as well as his father. Well, burying whatever is left of him anyway.” Jack was still sobbing, he didn’t really understand what was going on, but he knew from your reaction that you were in trouble. “Come on lads, let’s get going. Give her a clout, best if she’s out for a while.” The man behind you released one of your arms, drawing his pistol and raising the butt above your head, ready to strike.

“WAIT!” you yelled, breaking free and rushing forwards. Your mind was racing, you had to get Jack out of this situation.

“Take me. Take me instead, let Jack go back to camp.” The men laughed at this, you were going to have to try harder. “I’ll be quieter than him. I won’t cause trouble.” The man holding Jack was starting to walk away, and you could hear the man behind you moving closer again. Think, think! “I…..you….. you could have some fun with me.” The words almost made you puke, the thought of these men touching you, but you’d do anything to save Jack.

That got their attention. The leader stepped closer to you, still grinning a horrible, evil, gappy grin. “Nah, missy, as tempting as that sounds, you ain’t as valuable. Dutch ain’t going to send one of his main men out looking for one of you camp bitches.”

“I ain’t just one of the girls.” You were going to regret giving this information away, you knew it, but you had to convince them to make the trade.

“Well then missy, who are you exactly?” The man leered at you, moving even closer, so you could feel his breath on your face.

“Y/N. Y/N Morgan.” That name had the desired effect, and the leader gave a low whistle.

“Arthur dead would hurt Dutch more” the man holding Jack grunted at him.

“It sure would, Peter, it sure would…..” Before you could do anything, the man in front of you had grabbed you by the chin.

“Right, girly, I think we’ll take you up on your offer. And I mean all of your offer” the man’s face was almost touching yours now, and his breath made you almost gag. “You’ll only scream when we want you to. And believe me, you’re going to need to scream. You ain’t getting out of this. We’ll make sure Mr Morgan sees us slit your delicate little neck, and we’ll make him watch as you slowly die.”

Your heart was racing, but you kept your face perfectly still; you didn’t want to give them the pleasure of seeing the fear you were experiencing.

“I’ll be quiet” you said, through gritted teeth. “Just let me put Jack on my horse and send him off, it’s too far for him to walk.”

“Fine. Be quick. And only because we need him to get back to camp to tell Mr Morgan where you are.” He released you and practically threw you at Jack. Shaking, you walked over and took a still sobbing Jack from the other man. You carefully placed him on your horse, and quickly started scribbling a note.

“Girl, what the hell do you think you’re doing” the man snatched at the paper, but you pulled it away from him.

“I’m writing down the instructions, you bastard. He’s only young, even if he does remember them he’ll be too upset to say anything” you snarled back at the man. He sneered at you, before calling out to his men.

“You two, check the note.”

“Hey, you know I can’t read.”

“Me neither.”

“Goddammit” the leader muttered. You guessed that neither could he. “Just hurry up girl, before I decide to send the boys lifeless body back on the damn horse” he snapped at you before walking over to his own. You quickly finished the note and handed it to Jack.

“Right Jack, I know you’re upset, but I need you to be a brave boy for me, okay? My horse should take you directly back to camp, don’t worry. You hold on as tight as you can, and when you get to camp you give this note to Uncle Arthur, okay?” Jack swallowed and nodded, tears still dripping down his face. “I love you Jack, remember that.” With those last words, you slapped your horse on the rear, sending it trotting off back up the path.

With your back to the O’Driscolls, you quickly and silently slipped a knife from the sheath strapped to your thigh and sliced the blade across the palm of your hand. You winced slightly, staying as still as possible, hoping they hadn’t noticed. Keeping your fist clenched, you turned just as they grabbed you, pulling off your weapons and knocking the knife out of your other hand.

“Nice try missy. Now, you’re riding with me. I want a little…..preview of the fun we’re going to have tonight.”

You said nothing, and let the man bundle you onto his horse, sitting behind you. One hand on the reins, the other gripping you tightly – and not by the waist – you set off. You held your cut hand out as far as you could, under the pretence of needing balance, and squeezed, feeling the blood run over your fingers. You just hoped you could keep it bleeding for as long as possible.

——

John was the first to see Jack and your horse as they gently trotted back into camp. At first, he wasn’t too concerned, expecting to see you right behind; but as they got closer, he realised you weren’t there.

“Jack, what’s happened? Where’s Y/N?” Jack immediately burst into tears, and John quickly hoisted him off the horse and hugged him tight.

“There….was…..some…..men” Jack managed to get the words out between sobs. “I have a….” Jack held the crumpled note up to his father; it was slightly damp from his tears.

“ARTHUR!” John yelled, opening the note.

“John, what the hell do you want” Arthur grumbled as he walked over.

“O’Driscolls have got Y/N” John said, his voice cracking slightly, as he handed the note to Arthur. Arthur’s face paled as he read your hastily written instructions. “Any idea what those last two words are?” John asked before handing Jack to Abigail, who had been attracted by his shout.

Arthur looked at the two words at the end of the note. ‘Strawberry Doe’. You hadn’t dared write more than that. But Arthur didn’t need anymore to understand what you’d done.

“John, get your guns. We’ve got some killin’ to do.” Arthur growled.

“But Arthur, we don’t know where they’ve gone.” It wasn’t really a protest - John was already prepping the saddle on his horse - more a panicked comment.

“She’s left us a trail. We’ll track ‘em down like the animals they are.” John didn’t think he’d ever seen Arthur’s eyes like this. They were cold, emotionless, like he’d shut down.

As the two men rode out of camp, pounding towards the fishing spot, Arthur finally felt something other than rage start to sweep over him. It was fear. The fear of losing you, the fear of not being able to protect you…….

—–

It was early evening when you finally stopped at an abandoned old hut. Stuck in front of this lecherous, disgusting creature of a man, you had basically frozen, letting your mind disassociate. The ride was horrible, uncomfortable, but nothing more than you’d experienced in many saloons; at least those drunk bastards got their comeuppance when they groped you.

You were pulled roughly off the horse, your hands tied behind your back, and led into the dark basement. You knew what was coming, you just prayed that you could endure it for as long as it took Arthur to find you.

To your surprise, the leader shoved you to the floor before turning to leave.

“Me and the boys are going to eat before our fun starts, sweetheart” he leered at you. “Need to make sure we’ve got plenty of… energy.” He paused, licking his lips, before shutting the doors to the basement behind him, leaving you in total darkness.

Finally alone, you let a little sob escape from your throat. All you could think about was Arthur. Would you ever see him again? Would he even be able to look at you if he did?

And so you sat, in the cold, in the darkness, waiting.

——

Arthur and John rode in silence, occasionally stopping to search for the next part of your trail. There was nothing to say; there was no plan, only anger and fear. These men were going to die, and not well.

“Arthur…. I can’t see anythin’.” It was early evening and the light was fading fast.

“John, just keep lookin’!” Arthur snapped. “There has to be somethin’. Has to be……”

John didn’t retort, he knew it wasn’t him Arthur was angry at. He looked around, and spotted something in the distance.

“Arthur! Smoke. Looks like it’s comin’ from a cabin. Might just be normal folks though.”

“It’s our best hope. Come on.”

——

You had no idea how long you’d been down there in the dark. You’d done your best to keep calm, concentrating on your breathing. Stumbling around in the dark, unable to use your hands, you’d found a chair and a table; you’d crawled under the table and sat in the corner, back to the walls. It made you feel a bit safer; you tried to pretend that it was Arthur’s chest you were leaning against, not this damp, slimy, old stone.

Eventually, you heard the creak of the basement door hatches, and a figure made its way down with a lantern. Very briefly, you let yourself pray it was Arthur; but no, he was too short, too fat. You swore at yourself for even thinking it; of course it wasn’t Arthur, you’d heard no commotion, no gunshots. You didn’t even know if he was coming. Had Jack made it back? Had your horse actually gone back to camp, had Jack managed to cling on? Had Arthur understood your message?

Your slightly panicked thoughts were interrupted by the man grabbing you by the ankle, pulling you out from under the table, causing the back of your head to slam into the floor.

“It’s playtime girly! Now you better make some noise for me you little whore.” He lifted you up roughly by the front of your shirt then grabbed you hard by the chin. He moved his face next to yours and slowly, disgustingly, licked your cheek. “Just pretend I’m your big, bad outlaw. But don’t get too excited, me and the boys will be taking turns all throughout the night. And we don’t want you passing out now… it’s no fun if you aren’t awake to feel it.”

You wanted to fight back, to do something, anything but you couldn’t. You were completely frozen.

“Not even going to beg me? Well you’re a nasty girl ain’t ya.” With that, he turned you around and slammed your face and chest into the table, bending you over. Using your bound wrists to keep you pushed down, he pulled at your trousers with one hand, pulling them down to your knees. You heard him fumbling with his belt buckle, and you could have sworn that you were suddenly looking down on the scene from above; you could see yourself, bent over, face completely emotionless, and him, pulling at his trousers, pushing them down.

Suddenly, a familiar crack of a gunshot sounded above you, followed quickly by a series of others. You could hear yelling and screaming mixed in with the gunfire. The man released you, scrabbling over to the chair where he’d put his gun belt, reaching it as the basement doors flew open. He’d just pulled his gun out of the holster when a shot rang out, shattering his hand and sending the gun flying. Deafened slightly by the noise, you tried to stand up, struggling, and turned just enough to see the familiar shape of Arthur smash his revolver across the man’s face, sending what few teeth he had left flying. You’d never seen him hit anyone that hard before; sometimes, his strength was almost scary.

Arthur’s heart almost exploded with pain when he looked at you, trousers roughly pulled down, struggling to stand up. He quickly moved to you, leaving the unconscious man behind him. One brief flick of his knife and you were free; the first thing you did was grapple with your trousers, trying to pull them up. You never wanted Arthur to see you like this, not with another man, willingly or not. There were tears in the corner of his eyes as he grabbed you by the face, scanning yours for any injury.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner Y/N, so sorry” he said, stumbling over his words slightly.

Finally, with him stood in front of you, your adrenaline started to fade and a wave of relief washed over you. You threw your arms around him, breathing in his familiar, musky smell. You tried to say something, but all you could do was cry. In between sobs, you managed to explain that Arthur had arrived just in time. He held you tight, his arms and warmth seeming to form a protective bubble around you. After a few moments, he picked you up and took you up the stairs to a waiting John.

As soon as you saw John, your first thought went to his little boy. “Jack…. Is Jack okay? They were going to take him, John, I’m so sorry…..” As you spoke, Arthur gently let you down, standing you upright. John pulled you in for a hug, holding your face to his chest.

“He’s fine Y/N, he’s fine. Thanks to you. I’ll never forget this, you hear? Never.”

“John, you wait with her and the horses. I’ve got somethin’ to finish.” Before you could say anything, Arthur had grabbed some rope and walked away back into the basement. You thought about stopping him, but it only took a moment for you to decide the man deserved whatever was about to happen. John led you and the horses a little way off, but you could still see Arthur drag the man out by his hair, sitting him against a tree and tying him to it. You heard the man’s bloodcurdling screams as Arthur took his manhood from him, then begging as Arthur chucked what looked like bait on his bloodied lap.

Arthur walked back to you and John, wiping his blood-stained knife with a cloth.

“You finished?” John asked. He’d not seen Arthur do anything like this before; beat a man, yes, threaten, of course, even kill; but this….. this was a whole other level of rage.

“I’ve done what I needed. I’ve left the wolves to do the rest.” Arthur muttered as he climbed onto the saddle behind you.

The ride back was silent; no-one knew what to say. Arthur held you tightly to him by the waist, clinging to you as if for dear life. Occasionally he gently kissed you on the neck, but only after asking you if he could. He’d never asked before; you knew he was just trying to be kind, make sure you were okay, but you hated it. You just wanted things to be exactly like they were before; you were scared he’d never look at you in the same way again.

When you arrived back at the camp, everyone came to fuss over you. You entertained them for as long as you could before pulling Arthur away to your shared tent.

Arthur was surprised when you grabbed at his face as soon as he’d pulled the flaps down. You kissed him hard, hungrily, biting at his lips. He kissed you back, but more hesitantly, causing you to pull away.

“Arthur……”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I just…..I’ll go, you’ll want some time alone.”

“Arthur Morgan, you have never tried to tell me what I do and don’t want. Do not start now.” You didn’t give him time to reply before once again pulling him back in for a kiss. This time, he didn’t resist, and gently brought his hands up to rest on your shoulders.

You let your hands drop from his face as you slowly undid his shirt buttons. As your hands moved back up his chest, you let them brush lightly over his nipples, making him moan, before pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Once again, you moved you hands over his chest, this time down to his belt. He grunted slightly as you pulled at it, swiftly undoing it and the top button as his hips pushed forwards. You slowly slipped your thumbs under the waistband and gently pulled his trousers down, levering them forwards over his erection.

You knelt as you guided his trousers to the ground, and Arthur’s hands moved to the back of your head. He let out a little grunt as you licked the head of his cock, before you took him in your mouth in one swift movement. He groaned and gripped your hair as you slid him in and out of your mouth, soaking him. You moved your hand up to his on the back of your head, wrapped it around his fist, and used it to pull your own hair. Arthur understood the signal, and pushed his hips forwards, driving himself deep into your mouth, making you gag. He pulled out slightly, letting you recover, making sure you could breathe comfortably, before using his firm grip on your hair to dictate your speed. Soon, the movement of his hips became slightly erratic, and panting, he pulled away from you. This was just the prequel, he wasn’t about to ruin the main event.

You stood up, undoing your trousers as Arthur made short work of your shirt. You lay down on the bed as Arthur pulled your trousers off, pausing momentarily to stare at you, completely naked before him. You shouldn’t have worried; his gaze was just as it always was, hungry, desperate to touch you, mind blank save for the thought of you.

Arthur was quickly on top of you, one hand tucked under your shoulder, the other moving between your legs. You moaned softly as he gently rubbed you, spreading your wetness up and over your clit. As he massaged it with his thumb, moving in steady circles, he slipped a couple of fingers inside you, testing you. No matter how much he wanted you, how much he needed you, he always made sure you were ready. And you were.

He shifted forwards, replacing his thumb with the tip of his cock, rubbing against you. He kissed you as he pushed in, all the way, making you gasp and shudder. He bit your neck as moved back a fraction, before pushing deep again. He enjoyed this bit the most; every time felt like the first time you’d ever taken him, your reaction always the same. He gently started to move his hips backwards and forwards, kissing you, building up a rhythm as his hand moved to massage your breast.

“Pin me down, Arthur” you whispered into his ear. He paused, looking into your eyes, slight concern showing on his face.

“You sure darlin’?” You nodded and bit your lip, resting both wrists together on the bed above your head.

“Arthur please…. I want to feel normal. I want to feel loved…. I want to feel safe.” Arthur smiled, and with one large hand pinned your wrists down.

To anyone else, safe would have seemed like an odd choice of word to use, with a large man lying on top of you, effortlessly pinning you down. But it was true; this made you feel safe. Arthur would never hurt you, was always guided by you; you were always in control, even if it didn’t look that way.

Arthur delicately kissed your lips before thrusting hard into you. His grip on your wrists tightened, just enough to keep you pinned down, not enough to hurt. If he put too much pressure on you just tapped the back of his hand with your fingers; he always responded immediately. Every time he pounded into you, he’d stop briefly when he was fully enveloped, grinding himself into your clit, just like you’d shown him. It wasn’t long before you were both on the brink. You came first, gripping his hand, gasping his name. As soon as you had, he removed his hand from your wrists and you lifted yourself up, biting his nipple; this took him over the edge, and he swore as he pushed into you hard, almost uncomfortably deep. He collapsed onto your chest, and you both stayed there for a moment, not moving, just listening to the other’s breathing.

“Thankyou Arthur. I needed that. It might not make much sense but….I….needed to regain some control.”

“Darlin’ that don’t surprise me. Though, honestly, you don’t ever make much sense to me.” He grinned, before sitting up, releasing you. “Now, we best get some rest. I think Jack wants to spend tomorrow with his favourite Aunt.”

“He’s a sweetheart, he really is. I might stay in the camp this time though” you chuckled, sitting up and resting your head on Arthur’s shoulder. He kissed you softly on the top of the head, stroking your lower back.

“You do whatever you want darlin’. I’ll always be here.”