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red-dead-do-over246 · 1 year

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Fragile Like a Winter Rose

Everyone is used to all the women pining after Javier, but now the man finally has a woman that he's pining after. For five months to be exact. Right after he saved your life. (Javier x F!Reader)

*Mentions of abuse and possible alcoholism*

Guys, it's finally happened. I've become a hardcore simp for Javier ❤️and I adore that man to bits. Please, any asks for him, feel free to send in. I have so many ideas, but this is the only one I will write XD

Javier would never forget that moment.

It was a cold and rainy day when it all happened. Two months before Blackwater and that whole mess. He, Micah, and Arthur were riding out to check on a homestead that Dutch was talking big about. The three men took time to ride out, Micah complaining on the way, only to find that the place was already inhabited by a group of nasty degenerates.

At least they were drunk and nasty degenerates that could hardly shoot straight. The boys took care of them just fine.

There wasn't much money in the house (so Dutch was wrong again), but they did find you tied up and gagged in one of the master bedrooms. A young woman with wide, fearful e/c eyes, clearly terrified of the three men who just found her. Beautiful despite all the signs of obvious abuse, both physical and sexual, which was clear by the way you acted when Arthur tried to free you. You were aggressive, weak but aggressive. Your life must've been hell for a long while.

But thankfully, some talking to from both Javier and Arthur got you to trust them, if just by only a little.

"We're not good men miss, but we won't treat you bad." Arthur had told you, and your eyes softened a bit.

"Come with us." Javier offered his hand to you, but you didn't take it. You were a bit shaky and didn't trust men very much. However, you knew you were better off with them than on your own, so you followed and allowed yourself to come with them.

Then Micah ruined everything.

He's obviously not a sensitive man when it comes to these abusive issues and tried to force you onto his horse to ride with him. He didn't think much of it. The blonde outlaw just wanted the pretty woman to ride with him so he could look like the savior in both your eyes and Dutch's. However, you got the wrong message and freaked out so much that even the horses grew fearful.

"For Christ's sake Micah! Have some damn-" Arthur's scolding went on deaf ears as Javier took it upon himself to show you some kindness and good grace.

"You can ride with me, senorita. I'll keep you safe." He promised you, and you hesitated. You still have yet to say much of anything. Javier didn't even know your name.

But the shouts of angry men and guns caused you, without even thinking, to rush into his arms for protection.

"Aw shit! There's more of 'em!" Arthur shouted as he quickly mounted his horse. Micah already fired a few shots at the approaching men before mounting Baylock.

"They've got our whore!"

"Shoot the lot of 'em!"

Javier was quick to pry you off him and help you on Boaz before hopping up there himself. The three men plus you began to ride hard out of that area as the group of angry degenerates pursued them. Javier was in the lead as Micah and Arthur shot both bullets and curses in the direction of the men shooting back. The rain made it hard to see, but he knew that forward was better than backwards.

But through the yelling, hoof pounding, and gun banging, Javier could feel your tiny body as close to his as your arms were wrapped so tightly around his chest, he could hardly breath. Your head was also nestled into his back as you tried to block out all the noise.

He was a strange man. You just me him. You didn't even know his name. Yet, you've felt safer than ever just being there on the horse with him, something that Javier wouldn't learn till later.

You didn't just hold onto him. You held onto his heart. Since that day, and several months afterwards...

Everyone was now camped in a place called Horseshoe Overlook which was near the small livestock town of Valentine. Dutch had given a big speech about everyone earning their keep, which to the women, meant doing the chores. You've been with this gang for around five or six months now, and became close friends with the girls, even if you were different from the rest.

"Thanks for accepting me so easily." You told them as you guys got to work with the clothes.

"Y/N, you need to stop thanking us or I will ride out to the nearest saloon." Karen warned you, causing the other girls to giggle.

"Please don't." You said, the thought of her drinking making you worried. You've always had a problem with drunks as your experience with them has not been positive.

"See Karen? Listen to Y/N. She's one of us now." Tilly said as she leaned over a wash tin. Karen gave her a look.

"What do you mean? Y/N's a church girl. We're whores." Karen stated matter-of-factly and Mary-Beth hit her arm in a teasing manner.

"Don't say that." She said in that soft voice of hers, yet she was smiling. In fact, all of you were laughing now as Karen's comments kept you all in a joyful mood despite Miss Grimshaw harping on you guys.

After a few minutes passed, Karen nudged you.

"Your boyfriend's back." She stated plainly as she looked down to continue her work. Your face turned red, especially when you noticed Javier walking in your direction.

"Don't spread rumors." You hissed at her and she shrugged.

"Y/N, um..." The poor man looked a bit nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck and fiddled with his hands, "a few of us were headed into Valentine to check things out...care to join us?"

It was an easy excuse from him to spend time with you in the company of others which would make Javier relax a bit more. He saw your eyes look behind him to see the other boys that he was riding out with. When they landed on Bill, you shook your head.

Even though you've been with these people for a while, some of the men in camp still made you a bit uncomfortable with their stares and comments. Bill could be a nasty drunk sometimes, which gave you trauma. Plus, he was a bigger guy which intimidated you. Micah was just all around giving you creep vibes. Hell, even Dutch's flirtatious comments made you uncomfortable sometimes. So, you couldn't bring yourself to go with Javier.

"I'll pass this time." You said, and Javier felt his heart break a little.

"Ay...alright, alright...some other time." He said more to himself as he walked away, mumbling incoherent Spanish words and dragging his feet a little in a defeated manner. Karen then slapped your shoulder after he and the other boys rode out.

"Aww, Y/N! You broke his heart!" She scolded and you did feel a little guilty. However, that washed away quickly.

"Please...he'll probably drink with the others and get with the working girls as soon as he steps into town." You murmured, almost feeling a bit hurt yourself.

Truthfully, Javier was really the only man in camp that you felt truly safe around. Men like Hosea, Arthur, Charles, and Lenny weren't bad, but they didn't share a bond with you that you felt you had with Javier. All you could remember was that day he saved you and you were holding onto him like he was your lifeline. Ever since then, you felt he would protect you. So, the thought of him going out there and wasting away really hurt you, even though Javier had a right to do what he wanted.

"That's ridiculous Y/N. He's been pining for you for months now." Karen said nonchalantly.

"What? Where'd you hear that from?" You asked with a red face.

"Oh honey...It's written all over his face..."

Meanwhile at the saloon in Valentine, Arthur just learned the secret that Javier thought he's been harboring. He may have had a few drinks, but he also trusted Arthur and Charles not to share his feelings for Y/N with anyone.

"You need to ask her out." Arthur stated simply.

"I tried...but she didn't want to come with me." Javier told him solemnly, looking down at his drink.

"With us." Arthur emphasized, "You need to take just her somewhere. Go for a ride or somethin'."

Javier took those words to heart. He knew that you were still a little uncomfortable in camp, so maybe having just him around you would make you ease up a little. But on the other hand, Javier didn't want your bad experience with men to cloud your mind and make him look bad if he did anything wrong.

It didn't matter either way because as soon as he stepped out of that saloon, he and Charles had to go to Blackwater to rescue Sean...

The Irishman threw one of the loudest return parties ever. It was a wonder that the law didn't find you guys with all that racket. People were singing, dancing, and drinking. Javier had his guitar and was at the will of others with their requests. However, he had to cut his songs short as he began to wonder where you went off to. Javier was worried that something bad had happened. But when he set his guitar aside, he could easily spot you sitting at the cliff's edge.

"Eh Senorita, not enjoying the party?" He asked while sitting next to you.

"Noise just isn't my thing. I don't know Sean well, but he's a lot." You said with a slight smile, telling him not to worry.

"Be glad you didn't ride with him all the way from Blackwater." Javier said and you laughed.

"I thought you looked rather quiet. He took a lot out of you." You said and the outlaw nodded before laughing to himself.

"You're always out there saving people." You told him with a grateful smile, and Javier was glad that it was too dark for you to see him blush.

"Yes...um...Y/N?" His tone suddenly turned softer, shyer, and you noticed that he began to play with his hands in a nervous manner. Javier muttered something to himself in Spanish before speaking up once more.

"Would you...like to...go on a ride tomorrow?" He asked, gesturing holding a horse's reins with his hands while turning to look at you. You smiled faintly.

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me, hermosa." Javier stated in a slight dreamy manner as he managed to meet your eyes. You didn't know that he just called you beautiful, but Javier couldn't stop himself. You were just such a gorgeous woman. You took his breath away! And you deserved to be treated like the lady you were.

"Then yes." You told him and Javier felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He gave you a wide grin.

"You've made me very happy, Y/N." Javier told you before looking over his shoulder to see that plenty of people were either going to bed or passed out at the tables.

"The fire is all open...want to join me for one last song?" He offered, again, rather shyly. You felt hesitation stir in your gut, afraid that Bill or Micah might come around. But with Javier there, you felt a little safer.

You nodded.

And as you sat there around the fire, Javier playing his guitar and singing in the softest voice for your benefit, you did feel your heart soar. Maybe Karen was right when she said he had liked you for a long time. You just didn't think a guy like Javier would be so dedicated to one woman for long, and you were so scared to let anyone in.

But how could you ignore his persistence? Javier was like a little puppy begging for your attention.

It made your heart swoon to think that the man who saved you, treated you so kindly, might actually love you. And you felt emotions that you haven't felt in a long time when he finished his song. It almost felt like he was singing it to you. You knew he deserved a sweet gesture for his gentlemanly manner that he's given you for months now.

You leaned over, cupped one side of his face, and kissed his other cheek.

"Goodnight." You whispered before getting up and quickly moving over to where the other ladies were sleeping. Javier was at a loss for words as his jaw dropped a bit. His guitar slipped from his hands as he absentmindedly placed his fingers where you kissed him.

Javier felt like he had been touched by an angel. You always were a fragile woman. Like the last flower to die in winter, just barely holding onto your life and beauty. If anything, Javier felt absolutely blessed to have gotten such a gesture of affection from you.

He didn't know if he was going to sleep much tonight. His dreams would be filled with you.

The next day...

Arthur had gotten up later than usual, and struggled to get out of bed as he felt more tired than when he went to sleep. However, Dutch had asked him to go into town with John today, so go he must. As Arthur moved to saddle up his horse, he noticed a rather familiar American Paint leaving camp.

The outlaw couldn't stop his grin when he noticed Javier in the saddle with you behind him. You had your arms wrapped tenderly around his waist as a smile graced your face--as well as a gorgeous flower in your hair.

As Arthur's eyes met Javier's, the older man gave him a smile and a mock salute.

He had taken his first steps with you, and Arthur knew that if he continued to be dedicated and caring with you, then Javier will get the future of love and family with you that he rambled on about to Arthur in that saloon.

To you, Javier was the best man amongst them all. And Arthur couldn't be happier for him.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 javier #javier x reader #javier imagine

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yuri-for-businesswomen · 3 months

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i just now learned about a recent case where a german man kidnapped and did unspeakable acts to two boys. one was german, one was a refugee. the first one was immediately treated as a missing case, but the second one was not because the cops were afraid the mother was hiding her son to avoid deportation. and the worst part is, that little boy was kidnapped in a government institution (lageso in berlin) where his mother went for help! its infuriating beyond belief.

racism is so deeply engrained in german institutions, its not funny. yet police refuses any reforms or real investigations and deny even the notion - despite mounting evidence - that there is an issue with systemic racism in german police. and we dont have an independent institution to control the cops, you know who investigates their failures and issues? other cops. and we all know how they stick together like literal shit.

but it also made me think about „missing white woman syndrome“. does anyone really care about an eastern european white woman who goes missing while being exploited in the west through prostitution, in the domestic field, nursing, or as a „mail bride“ dependent on her husband? does anyone care about a white woman in the usa going missing from a trailer park? does anyone care about a white woman who was homeless, mentally ill, drug addicted, disabled, impoverished, prostituted, or otherwise marginalised going missing? and do people not care about white men going missing?

and it also made me think about this current trend of oversimplifying and decontextualising racism. one thing i hope we all can agree on is that anti black racism is very persistent. i cant think of a single country where black people are treated preferably over other races, best case is to be treated equally as a black person, and even that is not the case in most countries. but this doesnt just apply to white majority countries. in japan or korea, or under the kafala system in the arabic gulf states, for example, black people are systematically discriminated against and exploited too. white people are also not the only ones guilty of colonialism and imperialism - albeit i dont want to minimise the scale of portugese, spanish, french, british/australin, german, dutch, belgian (neo)colonialism or the north american slave trade.

i dont know its just, everything always has to be put in context and looked at from an intersectional perspective but i feel a lot of people who fault white supremacy for everything dont do that. and dont get me wrong, white supremacy is the root of a lot of inequality and issues, but despite the name its not merely a black and white problem, its complex. for example, even if a roma or jewish person is white, neonazis dont consider them the same race as white people. or i remember my turkish professor once saying, „in turkey im considered white, but in germany im a person of colour“. because race is not just phenotype, it is also culture, nationality, location and ethnicity that matters for who is holding power and privilege.

meanwhile a lot of the same people will refuse to agree that sex matters. or claim that sex - which is a lot less ambiguous than race by the way and nobody argues that mixed race people prove that race is not real or doesnt matter the way they argue intersex people prove that sex is not real or doesnt matter - is a spectrum while chanting „black lives matter“. and i know that black communities do have that conversation about colourism and how whiteness is something even people of colour are supposed to „strive for“, which is why for example the harmful practice of bleaching your skin exists. so it is being acknowledged that race is a spectrum, but some of the same people who rightfully talk about black lives and how blackness is its own social category will call you a bigot for talking about female lives and how being female is a social category.

im not going anywhere with this, just some thoughts that came up regarding discussions on racism and sex and how they intersect too. feel very free to chime in especially as a person of colour obviously!

#mine #rambling

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 5 months

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The Beginning Of The End - Chapter 5

Summary: You were once a “honeybee”, now you’re simply a “bunny”. Can an alliance and friendship still last after one’s former lover became the current lover of another?

Pairings: ELP x Reader x Jay White

Warnings: +18, mentions of cheating, cursing, mentions of smut, adult language.

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton, @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic, @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @adamjf , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @pleasantpastels

Chapter 4

Riley was still mesmerized, of course, he knew you had a strong personality and was incredibly outspoken. When you met that was the very first thing that caught his attention: your fierceness. Riley never failed to notice how those traits sometimes seemed to disconcert Jay to the point of anger. As a matter of fact, Riley was aware that Jay never knew how to handle you ever since the beginning of your relationship.

“She doesn’t listen, she does whatever she wants, she doesn’t understand nor obey me. She never does anything I want, she’s not-“

“She’s not like every desperate ring rat waiting for you at the arena parking lot who’s willing to lay on the concrete floor and let you walk over them just for your sheer amusement?” Riley chuckled and tossed his towel on the locker room bench before looking at Jay “Man, are you listening to yourself? She doesn’t ‘obey’ you? She’s not your daughter, Jay. She doesn’t have to do shit!” He huffed loudly “She’s a fascinating woman with a strong personality, not a teenager. So unless you want her to get tired of your immature behavior and eventually dump you, I suggest you stop treating her like she’s below you”.

And now, sitting at the foot of the bed of your hotel room, Riley couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You paced around the room, murmuring a random jazz song as you chose an outfit for your breakfast date. After Riley watched the entirety of the discussion between his bunny, Jay, and Lisa, he did the only thing he could think of doing ever since he watched you fiercely defend your relationship: have an hour worthy of passionate sex.

It probably wasn’t appropriate, but this whole situation was starting to get too strange to be considered normal, so what was one more freaky thing amid this chaos?

“This outfit looks weird, doesn’t it? It’s alright, you can say it” You asked when your eyes caught Riley intently staring at you.

He shook his head lightly and smirked “No, you look beautiful, breathtaking” Standing up from the bed, Riley closed the distance between you and cupped your cheeks with his hands, “You’re perfect, do you know that? Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky” His blue eyes’ scanned across your face, savoring the warm smile you offered him.

“We both know you’re the perfect one” Standing on your tippy toes you pressed a soft peck on his lips and stated with a teasing smirk “Besides that’s the postcoital haze speaking”.

Riley couldn’t hold back his chuckle when he replied “Trust me, bunny. Even though the sex is out of this world and you’ve ruined me for any other woman, what’s speaking right now is not the hormones but a four-letter word”

“Cake?” You teased again, giggling when Riley tickled your sides.

“Smart ass. Fucking rude of you to ruin my wholesome moment” He playfully pouted

“Awww, my poor baby. Will you feel better if I say that although I do love cake, I love you way more?”

“You love me more than you love cake? Damn, bunny, I’m flattered! I think I’m gonna cry”

Your laugh became louder when Riley tightened his grasp enough to crush you. “I love you, Ry”

“I love you more, bunny. More than you’ll ever know”

Jay’s patience was wearing thin, he didn’t want Lisa here, he never asked her to come nor had he allowed her to come. Seeing Lisa face to face solidified the hatred Jay already felt for the young woman, and such a feeling only seemed to grow inside him ever since you came to Japan. Being forced to face you every day and stare at the woman he’d lost only made Jay’s conscience weigh on the fact that not only he would probably never have you back, but he was also stuck with a woman he despised.

“Go get my son, please. I want to see him” Jay muttered, focusing on the task of setting up his toiletries on top of the bathroom sink. He needed to keep his focus on anything but Lisa’s face or else he would do something that would end his career and freedom.

“Not before you tell me what the fuck was she doing in here with you” Her tone did not leave room for doubt, she was incredibly pissed. Lisa was fuming with rage from the minute she saw you standing inside Jay’s hotel room.

“I’m not gonna ask you nicely again, Lisa. Just go get Charlie”. Jay was trying, he really was. To have Lisa in the same room as him and not punch her in the face took a whole lot of him and he knew that. Jay always despised men who hit women, to him they were nothing but cowards who were too scared to face someone their own size, but here’s the difference: Lisa isn’t a woman, she is a rat. A plague sent his way to end both his life and the patience he naturally lacked.

“No” Lisa spits back, a mocking smile dancing across her lips. The jealousy she felt upon seeing the love and devotion written in Jay’s features as he stared down at you was too much for her to handle.

With an annoyed sigh, Jay reached for his phone in his back pocket and quickly tapped the number under the letter “K” in his contacts. “Hi, Keiko. Could you bring Charlie to my room, please? Yeah, same room as last week. Okay, thank you”. Without looking at Lisa, Jay stepped out of the bathroom and took two steps forward to the bedroom area.

Lisa felt her body shaking with rage, her chest was burning, a vein popped on her neck and a redness began to settle on her nape. “You can look at her as much as you want, Jay. But you’ll never have her back, I won’t let you choose her!” She called from behind him, following him into the room. She heard him chuckling from the bed where he was currently setting aside his dirty laundry.

“You won’t let me choose her? Aww, how cute” Jay mocked with a loud laugh before his cold, gray gaze settled in her face “Is it too late to let you know that I already chose her? I’ll always choose her!” Jay raised his hand up when Lisa started to protest “I know what you’re about to say, Lisa. And trust me, I know she won’t choose me again, definitely not after the biggest fuck up I’ve ever made in my entire life” His gaze intensified, silently making it clear that the last phrase was meant for her. “But I don’t care”, Jay continued, “She’s the only woman I’ll ever love. The only woman who owns my heart, my soul. I’ll always choose my honeybee over anyone! She’ll be my number-one choice until the day I die! And I suggest you start getting used to that” He finished with a bitter spat as someone knocked on the door, “Now, be useful for once and go open the door so I can be with the only joy you’ve ever managed to give me”.

After breakfast, Riley took you to one of the places you were excited to meet the most: Koishikawa Korakuen. The park was even more beautiful than you’d expected, its beauty completely breathtaking, like a livid painting before your eyes. Not even the best-resolution pictures online made justice to the astounding view.

“Oh my god, Ry. This is beautiful!” You giggled, fascinated by your surroundings.

“It truly is”, Riley agreed, as you turned around to find him intently staring at you.

Shaking your head lightly, you felt like a teenager being complimented by her high school crush “Stop”.

Riley smirked, pulling you closer to his body in a tight hug. He whispered softly against your lips “Never”, before delicately kissing the soft flesh.

“I love you so much” was his next whisper once he broke the kiss.

“I love you too, blue eyes” You smiled, giving one last peck on his lips before pulling him down to sit on the grass beside you.

“Are you ok? You seem a little withdrawn and pensive this morning” You played with the longer strands of hair at Riley’s nape, “Did something happen?”

Huffing a laugh Riley focused on the lake before them, “How can I never hide anything from you?”, he felt the muscles on his neck tightening as the memories flooded his mind.

“The argument between you, Jay, and Lisa earlier…I can’t get it out of my head” he began “I was coming back from the gym since I was feeling a bit weird, so I decided to go back to our room and when the elevator doors opened, I heard your voice and I just ran towards it…I thought” Riley looked up at the blue sky, mentally counting the clouds before continuing, “I don’t know what I thought, to be honest. I just heard your voice and then Lisa screaming so I guess I thought something bad was happening…I don’t fucking know what was I thinking, I just ran” Riley shook his head to try to get rid of the tightness on his neck.

Kneeling on the grass, you slowly placed yourself behind him. Positioning your right hand on Riley’s nape, you began to massage his neck as a way to help his pain.

“That must’ve been scary for you” You kissed his cheek “I’m sorry, baby”.

Riley laughed bitterly “I was shitting my pants”, he leaned his head back to rest it against your shoulder. “When I heard that fucking psycho bitch yelling like a lunatic I was scared that she may have done something to hurt you, I don’t know”. Riley grabbed your hand that was previously on his neck so he could intertwine your fingers. He pulled your hand down until your arm was stretched out on top of his torso, “When it comes to Jay she’s fucking clueless. She doesn’t care about who she hurts or what she has to do to keep him so I ran there because I didn’t want her to hurt you because of him”. Turning his face to the right, Riley placed a soft peck on the side of your neck.

“My knight in shiny ring gear” You teased, making Riley chuckle while you placed your other arm on top of his torso. As you hugged him from behind, you whispered “Thank you for coming to my rescue and I’m sorry you got scared”.

“It’s alright, bunny. I’m glad you’re ok” Riley poked your knees until you laughed. Finally sitting on the floor behind him and resting your back against a tree trunk, you pulled him back toward your body.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed by until Riley spoke again, “Bunny, can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course, Ry”

“Can you stay away from Jay while you’re here? I don’t want Lisa to see you around him and do something stupid”

“Well, I can’t avoid randomly meeting him, Ry. Not when we are currently in the same place” You covered Riley’s lips with your hand as he began to protest, “But, I’ll do my best to not be around him, although it may not always work, I promise I’ll try to stay away from him”.

Riley pecked the palm of your hand that still covered his lips before pulling your hand away from his mouth, “Thank you, bunny”. He lifted his head up for a kiss that you gladly gave him until a voice pulled you out of your cotton candy love haze.

“Oh look who we have here, Charlie! The couple of the year!” Lisa chuckled, sarcasm dripping from her words as Jay approached her with a frown.

“You wouldn’t mind if we had a picnic beside you, right?” Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she didn't wait for a response to settle her things down on the grass beside you and Riley.

#the beginning of the end series #jay white x reader #jay white imagine #jay white #el phantasmo imagine #el phantasmo x reader #elp imagine #elp x reader #el phantasmo #elp #masochist writes

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softrozene · 1 year

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Deserve Better

Anonymous requested: I adore your Molly x fem and I died at the fact they didn’t recognize Dutch in the bar. Can I get something similar but with Abigail? Like a f!reader shows Abby how she should be treated post ganvg and whisks her away from John? please don’t hurt my boy too much 😂 much love ❤️

rdr2 masterlist

AKFDA Thank you! I am so glad you like my Molly stuff- And this? This is genius. I love the Marston family with all my heart but sometimes I agree that Abigail should be treated better (Thankfully we get that in the epilogue of the game- For however long that lasts :’))

Also, I know you said post gang but I just had to do it during.

Originally published on January 6, 2021

Abigail Roberts (Marston) x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, technical cheating? Abigail leaves John - John is like “wtf is going on”, per request John is not hurt that much - Just in shock, best friends to lovers.

Words: ~1,100

In her own way, Abigail has always been really proud of you. You have never backed down from anyone despite being a woman yourself- And tend to take on the “manlier” missions to prove the men wrong. She looked up to you- Especially since you were there the year John left the gang.

It was tough on her, but you were her rock and best friend.

It was one of the reasons why she did not think much about Sadie also taking on a more masculine role. It was more fitting, and she loved how you and Sadie stood up for the women of the group- It was refreshing.

She could tell you everything- All her worries, even those she was too afraid to tell Hosea or Arthur. She confidently told you because you just listened. You did not offer advice unless she asked and you while everyone was rather careful with their words to avoid her wrath when it comes to the truth- You are blunt.

That is why she never really thought of you as a partner- Not until now when she asked for advice after seeing John, completely drunk, asking Karen to hook up. Thankfully, the latter had enough respect for Abigail and told John to basically fuck off.

Abigail had unfortunately overheard this encounter- But instead of her usual anger she felt towards John, she felt rather… Defeated.

Thus, making her come to you and this time instead of venting, asking for advice on what she should do. How to stop making a man who is too hesitant to her and somehow still denying Jack- Love them? How can she stop loving him despite all the pain he keeps causing her?

She thought she was going to lose him up in that mountain- She truly was grateful he was brought back alive but now… It feels like something did die back up there.

So now- She stares into your serious gaze and feels a bit nervous at your thoughts. You were not going to sugar-coat anything, and it truly was one of those traits she adores from you.

However, the first words that fly out of your mouth leave her in shock.

“You deserve better,” You state.

You go silent again and she processes what you say- Trying to fight off the anger and need to defend John because you are her best friend and she asked her for advice. She will listen to it with an open heart. You let out a sigh and look to be contemplating something.

Then finally you continue, “Listen- Abby. You deserve so much better. I know the love you have for John is strong and I can see as clear as day that he loves you too, in his own slightly fucked up way, but in the end, what you need is someone who will be there for you always. You not only have yourself to think of but you have Jack. I respect John I do but he is a shit father- He has been avoiding that boy since he was born- He even went out of his way to leave for a whole year. He is still pushing him away. I do not know what to tell you about that but for Jack’s sake, you need to figure out if you want that indecisive man to be in your life… Or-“

You stop talking making her serious expression urge you on. You do after you sigh.

“Or I can help you. Jack can’t have this life forever and he should get a shot at a normal life. We can leave the gang for good, I am already a pretty decent shot- I can get a job as a hunter or whatever, maybe even a bounty hunter, it doesn’t matter to me but I will help you get a beautiful home. I will help you whether that means just as best friends, Jack’s second mom, or even as a lover to you- You name it and I will do it,” You state.

Abigail pauses. Her expression falls as she processes your words and then she realizes that you technically confessed to her. That you have a thing for her. This brutally honest confession is opening up her eyes.

“Listen, forget I said anything about the lover part. I did not mean to make it weird. I will give you time to think about it and just know I did mean the last part. I will do whatever you name,” You say.

No- Abigail does not need time. She has not felt her heart race like this since she first fell for John. She can feel the honesty in your voice and to be honest- She did not think a fellow woman could be her lover but hearing you say it?

It is clicking into place. You have been there since Jack was born. You comforted her when John left- You have always been her rock- Her best friend. Maybe you were destined to be her lover? Open up her eyes and be there for her and Jack since John painfully does not want to.

“Let’s go then. Right now as lovers. I will go back up Jack’s things,” Abigail states seriously.

You raise an eyebrow and before you ask if she is sure- She nods her head. “Right now. I am going to explain to at least Arthur and Hosea since they care about Jack and I.”

“Alrighty- I will pack up the horses,” You say a smile on your face.

Your heart races and you feel… Happy- Not just because Abigail just said you can be lovers, but she is willing to leave everyone with you for her and Jack’s sake. She trusts you and you promise to not let them down.

Immediately- You can hear John’s shouts and wondering what the hell is going on. He shouts, “Where you going, Abigail? Where you taking the kid?”

He does not say his kid. When John follows her to your horse- He looks even more confused. Jack looks excited.

You help Abigail and Jack onto one of the horses (with the promise you will return or compensate it) for Hosea before getting onto yours. The whole time Abigail and John argue, and he finally gets fed up.

“Good riddance then. Though I know you and you will come back eventually but hopefully you do not. Keep that kid for all I care,” He grumbles as he contradicts himself both in voice and looks.

You give Abigail one last look- To turn down your offer and yourself and instead she takes your horse’s reins and begins to lead the way to your new life together.

#softrozene writes #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #abigail roberts x reader #abigail marston x reader #female reader #fluff

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messrmoonyy · 2 months

Text

- The Forbidden Fruit

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC

A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.

Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )

AO3 | Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl.

Unfortunately you were no different.

In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you.

Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover.

But no.

Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel.

He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked.

And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday.

Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde.

In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest.

But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin.

Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either.

And today was no different.

“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed.

He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others.

You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return.

“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s.

“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling.

“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”

“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way.

But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard.

He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better.

‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘

He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself.

He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh.

“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “

You.

He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you.

“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks.

He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch.

And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away.

But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors.

“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you.

Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men.

“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged.

“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “

“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “

You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours.

“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company.

You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both.

“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods.

“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little.

“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “

“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away.

“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “

“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another.

“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette.

“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you.

Someone was finally listening.

“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were.

He blamed it on his fatigue.

“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been.

“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “

He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked.

“ Really? “

“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”

“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours.

“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded.

“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “

“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded.

“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen.

The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him.

He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done.

“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were.

Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman.

“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank.

“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “

Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.

Oh he was such a fool.

“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little.

“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “

His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.

“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.

You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it.

“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “

“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest. His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment.

How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you.

“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “

“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again.

He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice.

He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more.

Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating.

Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his.

“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless.

“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face.

“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “

He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you.

You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which.

You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain.

But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch.

He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought.

“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt.

He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night.

“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly.

“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants.

“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates.

He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous.

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon.

He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted.

“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough.

“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now.

Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t.

“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “

“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you.

You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water.

“ well ain’t you a sight “

Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch.

He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them.

“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care.

“ I ain’t like that “

“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants.

He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison.

“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.

“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved.

“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw.

“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “

His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were.

“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it.

But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did.

“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make.

“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance.

“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle

“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “

“ no “

“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked.

“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him.

“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again.

You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you.

And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to.

“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs.

“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you.

He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other.

“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate.

“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew.

But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted.

And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired.

The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it.

You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him.

His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined.

He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips.

“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first.

He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars.

The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well.

Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair.

“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks.

“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “

He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once.

Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell.

“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “

He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra.

And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.

“ Arthur- “

Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little.

He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers.

He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted.

“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips.

Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly.

“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “

“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.

He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it.

But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back.

“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “

“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him.

You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “

He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily.

“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh.

“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might.

“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch.

He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm.

“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you.

“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing.

“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed.

He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him.

“ god- oh god “

“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.

“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “

He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again.

If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there.

But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide.

He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it.

“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up.

“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours.

“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “

“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you.

He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep.

“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked.

“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “

“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word.

“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “

Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans.

He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.

He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever.

And then he came to his senses.

“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist.

“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours.

“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more.

“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers.

After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips.

He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least.

“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “

“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more.

“ you know, i might just take you up on that “

He sincerely hoped you would.

#ask and ye shall receive #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #x you #background Dutch van der Linde x reader #fluff #dutch van der linde #Arthur Morgan smut #john marston #javier escuella #Sadie Adler #arthur morgan rdr2 #van der linde gang

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meeks-just-wants-to-scroll · 19 days

Note

For the ask game:

Micah: 12, 22

John: 6, 8

Oh boy!!

Micah

12- What's a headcanon you have for this character?:

Far too many. I have the bad habit of only giving interesting headcanons to my comfort characters.

A half baked headcanon I have in mind is that Micah doesn’t like dogs because his father would use the threat of being eaten by dogs to whip Micah and Amos into obedience, especially if the kids ever tired on long stretches of walking and fell behind. If Micah Bell Jr ever found a guard dog, he would shove Micah precariously close to the dog, maybe even walk Micah to the perimeter of where the dog’s leash ends so the dog will be barking and snarling a foot away from the kid.

Micah stomachs most of his fear of dogs, coming off as him being an asshole and not liking dogs to look aloof. He will yelp and get away if a dog suddenly gets in his space or barks.

22- If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?:

Woof this is a tough one. I am pretty happy with any fan fic with Micah. I have yet to read a LOT a lot of fan fics on ao3. I’ve read a few on Tumblr (the yn x Micah kind of fics).

I really like when writers accept / lean into Micah being an imperfect, unsexy, sexy man. @amrass is really good at nailing what I mean. He is a bad man! He is fat! He is unhygienic! He is old for the era! He is contradictory and sly! He is somehow a sex god yet also shy as incompetent as a virgin when it comes to genuine flirting! He slouches! I love him for all his flaws and love it when writers find a way to incorporate them instead of brushing them under the rug to make him more conventionally attractive.

John

6- What's something you have in common with this character?

!!!! Hm. I suppose it is being the “middle sibling” , having a parent who loses your trust, and “golden child” feeling.

John and Arthur have always been compared to one another (no matter how much Dutch or Hosea would deny it). Arthur will always be more accomplished because he is older. That is how I feel with my older sibling. I used to be the eldest sibling and I used to be the accomplished golden child (I still am. I still get all A’s) but with me being an adult, I am now expected to reach all these milestone and suddenly have my shit together. John is much the same, being in his 20’s and being forced to be a family man and a pillar of his gang. him disappearing from the gang was bad and foolish, but some days wish I could do the same thing. John gradually becoming disillusioned with Dutch too. This might be more fitting of Arthur, but I was raised so much by my biological mother that I struggled to see her without rose tinted glasses. It was only after she was in the hospital / died that I was able to live without her in my life and unpack what she did. It helped me realize how neglectful and emotionally abusive she was to me and my sibling. Me and John, I think we both had a realization during our long absences.

8- What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I don’t know. I haven’t been around the fandom (rdr1 and 2) long enough to get an idea of the ins and outs of how characters are treated. From what I can tell, John is treated like a troubled rascal of a man. I feel most interpretations are faithful to the material and have value.

If I had to grab at sticks and pick something to say “this. This is what I dislike,” then I’ll say it is when John is infantalizing in Morston media. Infantilizing characters is my biggest pet peeve in fandoms. John is an adult and much of his story is about maturing. I especially hate when it is used in Morston media because it presses on a bruise when it comes to the fetishization of gay men. Strong dom / sub gay stuff where one guy is treated like an incompetent shy virgin while the other is a buff sexy sex machine makes me frown. It’s mainly just boring to interact with.

Very very few things actually go as extreme as I make it out to be. Most Morston media is fine (I assume). I’m making a strawman loosely inspired by read stuff I’ve interacted with in the past.

#rdr2 #asks #ask #Micah bell #john marston #ask game

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esta-elavaris · 7 months

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Flufftober Day 31: "You told your parents?" ~ Arthur Morgan/OC [1,105 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Cora was having a downright glorious day. Although the days when she and Arthur broke off from the rest of the camp and roughed it alone for a week or two always were, but this was one of their best little solo trips yet. The weather was beautiful, they stopped off at the post office before they really delved into the wilderness so she had a letter from home, and they hadn’t run into even a shadow of trouble. Considering the way chaos had a habit of finding Arthur, that particular part was a true miracle.

At present, they’d made camp just a little ways away from a lake – close enough to easily take a dip, but not so close that they’d be exposed to any who drifted near the shore – and she sat with her back against a tree while the wild turkey, the one that had them affectionately bickering over who had been the one to actually shoot it, roasted on a spit over the fire. They were being treated to the sort of sunshine that promised a beautiful pink-red sunset, and it took all she had not to hum happily as she read her letter from her hometown.

“My ma says hi,” she called to him as she read.

Up ‘til that moment, he’d been firmly rooted in man-roasting-his-kill mode. Or her kill, as she kept insisting anyway. He always insisted on taking over the cooking for at least their first night out here – although it was usually more, unless she really fought him on the matter. She rarely did, though, because it was sweet. A man who was hell-bent on cooking her dinner personally. Who’d’ve ever thought one like that existed? It was a question she found herself asking a lot ever since she’d first fallen for Arthur Morgan.

Her words, however, jolted him out of that mode.

“Your mother?”

“Uh-huh.”

“…she said to tell me that?”

“No, Dutch. I was hoping you’d pass the word along,” she drawled.

He stilled, leaning back where he knelt on the ground, regarding her thoughtfully.

“You…told your folks about me?”

“The basics, sure.”

“The basics?”

“That I’m courting a man I’m crazy about – and that he’s kind, funny, good, and handsome to boot.”

“You lied to ‘em, then.”

“I fudged the details on the whole livin’ in sin aspect, but everything else I just said is true,” she frowned at him. “…Shouldn’t I have?”

After their first night together, they’d both agreed that this wasn’t a sneaking into each other’s bedroll for some stress relief kind of thing. That it was more than that. That they were making a real go of it, in their own way. But maybe he viewed their way as not being something that should be shared around. The camp was one thing, nothing stayed secret for long there, but she had a hell of a lot more control over whether or not her folks knew. She just…hadn’t thought it would bother him. Instead, he looked bothered.

Maybe she should’ve asked first.

“I’m not exactly the bring home to mom and dad sort, sweetheart,” he said finally.

Ouch.

“Well, they live so far away it’s a wonder their letters even arrive in one piece. You’ll never have to meet ‘em if you don’t want to.”

Cora tried to play it cool as she spoke, shrugging casually and lowering her head so that her long dark hair fell forward over her face, pretending to be fascinated by the letter in her hand. Of course he saw through it.

“Shit, Cora, that ain’t what I meant at all,” he stood, approached, and then knelt before her on the ground. “Just that…I’m not the sort that a respectable woman would want to bring home to mom and dad.”

Oh. This was around the time she knew he’d be breaking out words like ugly and haggard if she hadn’t entirely vetoed them some time ago. Folding the letter and setting it in the midst of her skirts, she regarded him softly.

“I’m not a very respectable woman, Arthur,” she snorted.

“I respect you,” he said simply.

“And that’s what matters. To me. To them, too – my folks aren’t the high and mighty sort. Do you think I’d be running with Dutch’s crew if they were? Ma’s just glad to have one less mouth to feed, and pa – god love him – is a drunk. If I brought home some, some heir to a fortune with a stick lodged up his ass, they’d think I lost my damn mind. They know whatever I’m up to out here isn’t squeaky clean, how could it be? But we all play dumb to avoid stressful conversations. I keep ‘em clued in on the good parts, and you’re the best part.”

He breathed a laugh, but when he met her gaze and found her dark eyes fixed on him almost sternly, so there could be no doubt as to whether she meant every word she said, the laughter disappeared and he leaned back to sit on his ass on the ground in front of her, leg bent so one arm could rest atop his knee.

“You don’t have to meet ‘em, ever, if you don’t want to,” she continued. “But you gotta know that if you did, I’d be much more concerned about what you were going to make of them, rather than what they’d think of you. Because that last part wouldn’t make a damn lick of difference to me. Ever.”

Shifting a little, she could see in his face that he was tempted not to believe her – whether he’d admit that fact or not.

“I mean it, Arthur. They’d love you if they met you, you’re just gonna have to take my word on that, but even if they didn’t, you’d still be stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me.”

He smiled slightly, scratching at the stubble at his jaw.

“That’ll be an awful long time, Cor.”

“Will it, now?”

“Forever, most like. If I have my way.”

As he said it, he looked almost tentative – because it was one thing to say they were making a serious go of this, and it was another to say that. Those words of his had implications. The type that involved gold rings and wedding bells.

Cora grinned, and those blue-green eyes of his that had been inspecting her face for any hint of a negative reaction lit up as she replied.

“That works just fine for me.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, hiding his own smile. “Good. Go ahead and tell ‘er I said hi back, then. Better make a good first impression, if she's to like me when I meet 'er.”

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

#esta's flufftober '23 fills #flufftober2023 #flufftober 2023 #flufftober #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan/oc #rdr2fic #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic

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yallwildinrn · 7 months

Text

Snake in the Grass: Chapter 1

For @ckhalloween23's catch-all prompt: An Empty Grave

This is a horror fic I've been working on since May or June. Given my current pace, it probably won't be out until the latter half of next year, butttt since I have this first chapter done (and I wanted it to be done in time for Halloween of this year), I figured I'd go ahead and post this as a preview and a treat! Well, treat for you guys and me haha.

Content warning for alcohol, bars, and general spookiness.

Pool balls whizz & clack against one another, but the sound is mostly drowned out. The bar, while not packed, is bustling with life, as is typical for a Friday evening; the sounds of yelling, laughter, and glasses clinking fill the already cramped space. It’s the victory cry of men who have been itching for the work week to finally, finally, end.

Dim, warm lights mask dirty floors and mysterious stains of unknown origin that seem to infect any and every upholstered seat. The single TV crammed into the back corner behind the bar top has caught the attention of several men, all shouting and celebrating – or complaining – at every pitch of the game with gnashing teeth. The bartender scrambles to sling out drink after drink of who-knows-what for the night’s customers.

Johnny himself is seated at a round, wooden table shoved near the back of the room. It’s almost uncomfortably close to the billiards tables, and each shrill hit against the pool balls becomes harder to ignore as the night wears on. He’s got some good distraction, though.

He lounges in his chair with a Coors in hand, surrounded by his friends. Bobby sits at his right, sipping his bourbon, while counterclockwise from there are Jimmy, Dutch, and Tommy. It’s tight, mostly because they had to steal a seat for Jimmy, but Johnny doesn’t mind. Not a damn bit.

He takes a long, slow sip from his drink. He still can’t believe they graduated from West Valley six whole years ago, and yet here they are, still thick as thieves. It’s not the same as it was back in high school (images of late-night, high-speed rides on their Hondas and getting plastered on the beach come to mind), but given how damn busy they all are, it’s an impressive amount of effort to keep traditions & meet-ups alive – like these monthly get-togethers at the bar, for example.

Johnny half-listens to a light-hearted argument between Tommy & Jimmy about baseball players he doesn’t give a shit about. Dutch, caught in the middle, has decided to antagonize the two of them by playing devil’s advocate for both sides. Things are getting heated, but it’s nothing Johnny finds worth worrying about. A nudge to Johnny’s arm snatches his attention away, and he turns to see Bobby with an expectant gaze and a soft, tipsy smile on his lips. Johnny reciprocates the smile without even thinking; he can thank the fact that he’s at least a few drinks in for that.

Bobby’s eyes sparkle as he leans towards Johnny. His cheeks are flushed, and his breath is rich and yeasty, laced with just a hint of sweetness. He smirks at Johnny and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s your back doing, old man?”

Anddd there it is. Johnny rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he answers, “Well, I’m no longer bed-ridden, so there’s that. I think I’ll be good to go back in a week or two once Dr. Gates gives me the green-light. I’m not supposed to see her for another two weeks, but if I feel better before then, I’m gonna see if she can squeeze me in, see if I can get back to work sooner.”

Bobby raises his brows in a look of mock shock, but it’s accompanied by a wry smile. “Did I just hear Johnny Lawrence say he’s trying to get back to work sooner? Thought you had worker’s comp to fall back on?”

“I do,” Johnny explains, snatching the neck of his Coors. The glass is smothered with wet drops of condensation that leave watery rings on the tabletop. “Just turns out that worker’s comp isn’t nearly as good as a roofing job. Pays the bills, but man.”

Johnny shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. The icy cold liquid feels like a blessing, and he sighs as the bottle leaves his lips.

Bobby shrugs a little awkwardly. He tries to reassure Johnny as best he can by reminding him, “Hey, at least you’re getting comp this time.”

Johnny frowns harshly and shuts his eyes for a moment like he’s trying to will away a headache. He sets his beer down with a soft thunk, and the moisture clinging to the glass is already dripping back onto the table. He glares at a nearby wall and mutters, “Don’t remind me.”

“I’m just saying,” Bobby starts with a warm smile, swishing the alcohol in his glass with one hand. “Not working under the table has its perks.”

Another round of loud cheers fills the room. Sounds like someone finally hit the damn ball. “Yeah, but the government also takes half my damn paycheck. Jimmy still hasn’t helped me figure out how to deduct all my taxes yet,” Johnny says, loudly pulling Jimmy into the conversation.

Jimmy turns away from his own conversation with Tommy & Dutch. He leans onto an elbow and smiles at Johnny, but it’s certainly not genuine; if anything, there’s a bite to it. He answers, “Just because I’m an accountant doesn’t mean I can magically fix your taxes, Johnny. Become a business, then we can talk.”

Johnny flips him off, earning a round of chuckles around the table as Jimmy rolls his eyes and relaxes back into his seat. Dutch points at Jimmy with his beer bottle and asks the accountant, “Speaking of, have you finally been let out of your cage? First time we’ve seen you in, what? Months?”

Jimmy sighs, and Johnny realizes that the polo Jimmy’s wearing is probably the most casual thing he’s worn out and about in a while. “Tax season is finally over. Thank god for that,” Jimmy trails off, and he takes a long swig from his glass.

Tommy eyes his friends and pipes up, “Too late for another round of shots?”

Another round sounds fucking amazing. Johnny instead answers, “I’d love to, but my wallet says no.”

Bobby chimes in, “My liver also says no. That first round was enough for me.”

Dutch’s face crinkles into disappointment as he boos Bobby from across the table. His chair tips back an almost dangerous amount while he does. He shakes his head and laments, “Ya think you know a guy, but then he goes to priest school and becomes a damn prude.”

Bobby glares at him as his grip tightens on his glass. “It’s called seminary, and I’m becoming a pastor, not a priest.”

Tommy snickers & nudges Dutch, giving him a mischievous look. He points out, “Didn’t say he wasn’t a prude.”

Johnny snorts, earning himself a Bobby-patented glare, which then sends him into a laughing fit. Sometimes it can genuinely be scary to be on the receiving end of that gaze, but most of the time (especially after all these years,) it’s become damn hilarious. There’s another vicious clack of the pool balls; the start of a new game.

“I hate all of you,” Bobby huffs. He crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, dragging his gaze across the figures of his (almost) drunk friends, who are still much more sober than half of the room. “Why do I even hang out with you assholes? What did I do to deserve this?”

Jimmy sips on his glass and looks at Bobby. His lips curl into a wry smile. “Be a prude?”

Johnny thinks he can see a vein bulge in Bobby’s forehead, and he has to stifle another snort. Bobby’s lips pull into a tight, frustrated line across his face. He finishes the last of his bourbon with a small gulp and slaps his palm onto the table so he can push himself out of his chair. “I fucking hate you. All of you. I’m getting another drink.”

He pushes his chair back in with his foot and starts to weave through the maze of people & tables, and Tommy smiles like a Cheshire cat and calls out, “Can you-?”

“No,” Bobby yells back as he crosses the bustling room. Tommy cackles in his seat, and Dutch follows suit, clapping a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and howling beside him. Johnny simply shakes his head and leans onto the table, resting on his forearms.

The wood sticks to his skin. He can only imagine how much dust is trapped under layers of sticky god-knows-what. Probably more than he realizes. It’s kind of gross to think about, but it doesn’t really faze him, especially when everything about this bar fits that bill. Not much about this place is great: the bartender’s a dick, the bowls of pretzels are stale as shit and few & far between, it’s impossible to find a seat without a weird stain on it, and there’s never more than two beers on tap.

That doesn’t mean it’s all bad, though. Johnny never has to worry about them running out of Coors. It’s a pretty good distance between all their places. The prices aren’t half bad, and hell, it doesn’t even come close to gracing their top ten list of “Shittiest Bars This Side of California!” So yeah, really not all bad, at least if you ask him.

Tommy’s hyena-like cackle grabs Johnny’s attention and pulls him back into whatever conversations he’s missed. “No, no,” Tommy starts, smiling wide. “I’m just- can you believe any of us actually graduated?”

Jimmy levies Tommy with a self-satisfied smile. “No, I actually can’t believe any of you guys graduated,” he teases. Tommy rolls his eyes.

Dutch scowls. “Yes, yes, we know. You made an A once and got into a big boy college, keep it in your pants,” He replies gruffly, finishing his statement with a swig.

“That’s not what I meant,” Tommy elaborates dryly while gesturing with his drink. “You’re not wrong, but think about it. Our senior year was such a shitshow.”

Dutch smirks and looks Johnny’s way. “I blame Romeo over here. Had no idea a breakup would lead to all that bullshit with LaRusso.”

Johnny stifles at the comment, and his cheeks flush – now red from more than just the alcohol – as he glares at Dutch. He’s about to bark out a comeback, but Bobby cuts him off when he comes sauntering back, freshly filled glass in hand, and retorts, “Oh please, we’re all to blame. We escalated it when we should’ve just left things alone.”

Bobby slides into his chair a little ungracefully, wood scraping against the floor, while Dutch shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He nods his head down a little sheepishly because… yeah. Bobby’s right, as much Johnny hates to admit it. Back at West Valley, they were all chomping at the bit to put the twerp in his place, but none of that needed to happen or even should have happened. They saw red, and LaRusso got caught in the crossfire. It was like they didn’t even see him. Just a conveniently placed punching bag.

The table’s air stills; the rest of the bar continues to thrum with activity while the atmosphere of their little corner slowly ices over. Johnny purses his lips and sips at his beer. Guilt gnaws his ribcage. Even after all these years, after the apologies and many, many steps to make things right, he’s still stuck with bitter memories that choke him up. He opts to study the many dings & scratches on the table rather than meet any of his friends’ eyes.

Jimmy’s the first to break the tense silence. “You know, if we have anyone to blame, it’s Kreese,” he spits out. It hits Johnny like a jab to the chest. He’s taken aback as Jimmy says this, but the man continues, “He put so much bullshit in our heads! All that punch first, think second nonsense. Like, come on-”

“Wait, wait,” Johnny interrupts while waving his hand to stop Jimmy in his tracks. How can he just say that? “Look, he was a total douchebag – I should fucking know – but we’re the ones who took what he said too far. We were still the ones who fucked with LaRusso. He didn’t tell us to do any of that shit.”

Tommy shifts beside him and stumbles over his words. “Yeah, like- but- Look, okay, you’re right, it’s totally on us for taking shit way too far, but Johnny,” Tommy says, and he turns to Johnny with pleading eyes. “He literally taught us to have no mercy. Literally. That’s not an exaggeration.”

Johnny frowns. “Yeah, but we took it out of context. He obviously meant to not take no for an answer, to- to keep pushing on despite the circumstances,” he explains. Are they seriously saying this shit? Even after all these years? After everything Kreese did for them? For fuck’s sake…

Dutch is next to speak. He throws Johnny an odd look as he adds, “Did we go to the same Cobra Kai? Because the one I went to taught us to do fucking everything to the extreme. Including the no mercy shit. Hell, he even had us do karate to the extreme. All those extra goddamn practices…”

“Yeah, and they were good for us. We needed some discipline!” Johnny snaps back defensively. His blood is starting to boil with every bullshit argument that his friends make.

He starts to bounce his leg. The sounds of laughter pouring out from a nearby table makes him want to snarl. He doesn’t get it, how can his friends just- just pass the blame onto Kreese? The guy at least tried to help them and make them into better people (before his sensei lost his mind, that is.)

Johnny turns to Bobby, who’s worrying his lip and squirming like he’s sitting on an anthill. “Come on,” Johnny says. “Back me up here.”

Bobby looks away from Johnny, jaw tense, but he turns back. He lets out a breath, look Johnny square on with a worrying level of sincerity, and says, “Johnny. Kreese worked us so hard once that you forget it was Ali’s birthday. She broke up with you over that.”

Johnny’s skin buzzes. He’s all too aware of the overpowering noise of the room. Hell, he feels like he can feel the next table over breathing on him. His stomach rolls. “That is not what happened,” Johnny insists with a hard stare. “Practice that day was not that bad. I remember it. It was fine.”

Tommy scoffs, “Then why were you so quick to go out drinking with us?”

Johnny’s more tense than a stretched-out rubber band, and he feels like he’s going to snap like one, too. He scowls and answers, “I forgot because…”

Johnny blinks and turns his gaze down. Sweat collects at the back of his neck while his chest tightens.

“No, I-I forgot because…”

His mouth is a cotton ball. He’s reaching into his mind, searching for the memory, but he just… it’s not right. It’s there, but somehow, it also isn’t. He remembers being brought in for an extra practice with his cobras, Twig being brought in to watch & help, the end of practice, getting ready to leave, and then…

His temples throb as tries harder to remember, but he can’t. There’s a gap, a void where something should be. It’s not like he’s just forgotten the details, god no. He’s actively reaching into his mind, searching and grasping for what should be there, sandwiched between the sparring and the night at the bar, but he just… He can’t. He can’t get there. Every time he thinks he’s brushing against what might be the memory in question, a pulsing throb shakes his skull, and it rattles his train of thought loose.

His eyes dart between his friends. His heart pounds furiously against his vice of a ribcage, and he wipes his sweaty palms against the thighs of his pants. Their faces are a varied array of distress and confusion. Why do they look like that? Are they trying – and failing – to remember, just like him? Shit, why can’t he remember?

A chill threatens to run down his spine. Could he ever remember?

When he was fresh off the breakup with Ali, he would spend hours torturing himself with all the ways he screwed things up; it was his way of trying to nail down exactly what he did wrong. Except… he always left that practice turned night-on-the-town alone. He never touched it, to his knowledge. Is- Is this why? Every time he tried to play the events over in his mind, would he get to this downright anomaly of a gap in his memory, and did it make him feel- well, make him feel like he does now? Sick and shaken?

Is that why he never, never thinks about the inciting incident that led Ali to yell at him and tell him things were done? Did the avoidance become muscle memory at some point so he would never try to recall that night & the memories associated with it?

He knows the answer. He doesn’t like it.

It doesn’t even feel natural. It’s not like he just forgot; no, it’s more like something was ripped out unceremoniously or maybe strangled and hidden in an unreachable corner of his mind. Does it matter what type of wrong it is? He wipes the sweat from his brow; the heat from the crowd of the bar tonight has finally caught up to him, it seems.

His mind circles back. Why can’t he remember? Why is there a gap? How long has it been there? Has- has it always been there? And not just any gap. No, a gap that, when he tries to recall upon what should be there, snaps up & bites him like a cornered animal. His head is throbbing. He fumbles for his beer and takes a long drink.

He looks again to his friends. He can only imagine the expression on his own face given theirs. He takes a chance and says, “Please tell me I-I’m not the only one who…”

Bobby slowly shakes his head, eyebrows knit, but he doesn’t meet Johnny’s gaze. Jimmy and Dutch don’t move; they simply squirm and keep their eyes down. Tommy’s chest is heaving as he sits up straight and looks ahead with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Johnny knows they must be in the same boat as him. They have to be.

Tommy answers with a shaky voice, “Who what?” Johnny almost drops his mouth wide open. Tommy’s asking that even though the man isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes and looks like he wants to run out of the room?

“Who what? What do you mean who what?” Johnny asks incredulously. “Who- who can’t fucking remember what happened that night!”

Tommy’s smiling, but it’s strained. He answers, voice as tight as his lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Johnny grips his Coors so hard he thinks it’s going to shatter in his hands. “What do you mean what I’m-? You know exactly what I mean. Look at us! Look at yourself! Something’s not right.”

“Johnny,” Bobby pleads. At some point he rested his forehead in his hands, elbows on the table. “You’re- you’re not wrong, but Christ-”

Johnny turns to face Bobby with an eager gaze. He cuts him off, saying, “You can’t remember, either. It’s not just me. Something’s wrong.”

Bobby sighs through his nose. He’s getting frustrated; it’s a tell Johnny knows well. “No, Johnny,” Bobby says shortly. “I can’t remember. But I don’t want to. God, I just… I think I can speak for all of us when I say let’s just drop it. Please. I don’t want to think about-”

Bobby’s practically pleading, but Johnny doesn’t care. What’s more fucking important: a little bit of discomfort or the fact none of them remember the same exact damn thing?

Johnny cuts him off again and snarls, “About the fact there’s a fucking gap in our memories? The same gap for all of us, I’m willing to bet? One we’ve probably had since that night?”

Bobby shuts his eyes, and Johnny’s not sure if the man is going to cry or punch him, but given their shared history at Cobra Kai, it’s probably the latter. Dutch speaks up next, snapping, “Johnny! Just drop it! Yes, our memories are fucked, big whoop. I don’t care! I don’t want to think about it either! I don’t know about you, but I don’t like trying to remember and feeling my skin try to crawl off my body.”

Johnny drums his fingers against his bottle. He can’t fight the scowl on his lips. “Seriously? You’re just going to ignore this? Just like that?”

Dutch laughs bitterly. “Seems like we’ve been doing that for years, man,” he says with a shake of the head, but he pauses and looks Johnny straight on. “You know what? Hold on, let me ask you something. Let’s say we do talk about this shit. Have a little pow-wow and Agatha Christie our way through this bullshit. What the hell would we even do? Seriously, how in the fuck would you even recommend we- we try to fix this? Please, share with the class!”

Johnny opens his mouth to answer but shuts it tight in that same instant. His cheeks flush again. He genuinely has no idea where to start, actually. He does know that if they work together, they might have a shot, but Dutch writing him off with that cruel smile makes Johnny want to scream.

“Exactly,” Dutch says like the self-assured bastard he is, gesturing at Johnny with his drink in hand. “We can’t do shit, and since we’ve gone this long without thinking about it, why stop now? Sounds like none of us want to think about it, for christ’s sake.”

Johnny’s throat is tight. He can hardly believe what Dutch is saying. What Tommy and Bobby have been fucking saying. His blood pulses under his skin, and he turns to Jimmy, almost begging, “Jimmy. Come on, back me up. We can’t just pretend this never happened.”

Jimmy doesn’t look him in the eye, and it’s enough to make Johnny’s heart sink. The brunette swallows, lips turned downward ever so slightly, and he hesitantly answers, “Look, I-I’m sorry Johnny. I can’t. Why don’t we just… let sleeping dogs lie? All remembering does is hurt, and we can’t do anything about it, so why can’t we just…”

Johnny screws his eyes shut tight and flexes a hand in and out of a fist a few times. He brings his Coors to his lips, takes a healthy gulp, and slams the bottle back onto the table with enough force to make his friends jump a little. He glares at them all. He can hardly believe all the bullshit he’s heard tonight.

“Why can’t I just what? Drop it? Why aren’t you pussies willing to do anything about this?! It’s not right! Something is fucking wrong, and you just want to act like nothing happened!” Johnny says. His voice is starting to raise, and he’s getting the attention of a few nearby patrons, but quite frankly, he doesn’t give a shit. Fuck ‘em. “What is wrong with you guys? Who gives a fuck if it hurts to think about it! Something is wrong, and it sure as hell wasn’t just forgotten. It’s gone. Or- or it’s there and we just can’t reach it but- Who cares! It’s still weird as shit, and you’re all just pretending like nothing fucking happened like a bunch of pussies!”

Bobby attempts to soothe him by saying, “Johnny, please, I don’t think this is as bad as you’re saying.”

Johnny feels his muscles tense, and he swears to god, he might break a tooth from how hard his jaw is clenched. He gets tunnel vision for a moment, only able to focus on the traitorous words that just came out of Bobby’s mouth, and when his vision clears, everything is suddenly too much again – screeching pool balls, wails & shouts from the crowd around them, the way his body is vibrating under his skin. He has to fight against the urge to throw & shatter his beer bottle on the ground (likely only because he’s not done quite with it yet).

He can’t believe that Bobby of all people would say that to him. Talk down to him like that. That simple sentence rubs him raw like coarse sandpaper dragged his skin. It conjures up painful memories of his mom brushing aside his pleas for help and, on occasion, Kreese asking him through a sneer if he’s a loser. And worst of all, Bobby knows this, better than anyone else. He’s been the one to listen to Johnny rant and rage about being brushed off and ignored. He knows how that phrase sets Johnny’s blood alight.

Johnny chugs the rest of his beer in one fell swoop and steps out of his chair so fast & hard it tumbles. He doesn’t even bother picking it up. He bites out, “Fuck this. I’m going home. I don’t give a fuck what you do. Pretend for all I care! Don’t come crying to me when this shit blows up in all of our faces.”

Johnny ignores Bobby’s protests as he begins to chase after the taller man, trying to get Johnny to talk to him or whatever. Johnny can’t talk to him, won’t. He can’t even look at him right now. He grits his teeth as he weaves between people, and the longer Bobby follows, the more certain Johnny becomes that he really might start swinging.

Johnny has to shoulder his way into an open spot and wait for the bartender to slide by, but flashing some cash is all it takes to grab his attention. He feels like his skin is going to vibrate right off his body, and he snaps at some asshole sitting beside him who tells him to watch it.

Bobby catches up to Johnny as he’s trying to pay the bartender, worthless platitudes tumbling out of his mouth, and Johnny hisses through clenched teeth, “If you don’t lay off, I’m gonna knock your teeth out, I swear to god.”

It works as intended. Bobby steps back, startled and wide-eyed. Johnny knows he looks a little wild right now, but he just does not care. He feels like he’s one wrong word or move away from snapping, from saying & doing shit he’s going to regret. He just wants to get out of this fucking bar and away from his shithead friends.

Johnny breathes a small sigh of relief when Bobby accepts defeat and slinks back to the table stuffed in the back of the room. He always was the smartest of the five of them. He knew when it was time to leave things be before it blew up in their faces. Johnny thinks of Daniel, and he feels a little sick, but it’s replaced with another wave of hot, tepid anger again, the same kind that haunted him all through high school.

With his tab paid, Johnny shoves his way out of the bar, other patrons throwing protests, swears, & a few obscene gestures at him, but Johnny makes himself ignore it and pushes on. If he starts to pay attention and care right now, even a little, he’s probably gonna get the cops called on his ass, and he just- he can’t deal with that on top of everything else tonight.

He opens the bar door with a hard shove, and the chill night air washes over him. While the streets are neither silent nor empty, it’s still much better than the bar, and he feels his chest loosen enough that he can breathe again. He stomps over to his Avanti, and halfway through sticking his key into the door’s lock, he decides that he doesn’t have enough beer at home to deal with this night.

#the karate kid #cobra kai #johnny lawrence #og cobras #horror #writing #my writing #snake in the grass #forgot to mention #this is set in a few years after TKK #May 1990 to be exact #I’ve so much work into this it’s not even funny #put so much*#I’m really proud of this ngl #wish I could let y’all know when it’ll be finished and out but #I’m hoping everything will be completely done and ready to publish by next Halloween #I’d say sooner but I’m going so slow rn #maybe I’ll be able to get some real writing done on winter break

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