#now i have cabin fever stuck in my head

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 2

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, ED mentions.

Parts

Part 1// Part 2//

Regina doesn’t say a word to you, or even glance your way.

She storms in and throws her bag down onto the bed next to yours, sweeping your clothes onto the floor with her hand. You open you mouth to protest but she cuts you off.

“Not a word, loser.”

Loser means she hasn’t got anything specific against you. No blackmail material, no weird rumours. Loser is a good place to be.

You sit on your bed and watch in silence as she starts to replace the pillows on the bed with her own pink pillows and satin blanket. She takes up over half the drawers for her own clothes, moving yours into a single pile at the bottom of the shared wardrobe. She puts her makeup and toothbrush, both varying shades of pink in the bathroom. She’s marking her territory.

“Don’t touch my shit.” She scowls, flips her hair and swiftly leaves the cabin. Her faint vanilla scent lingers in the air. It’s both intoxicating and sickly.

You wait a few minutes before you leave too, just to make sure you don’t accidentally bump into her and make yourself a target. The last thing you want is to be Regina’s plaything of the week.

Todays activity would be orienteering. You stand around the campfire pit, avoiding the crowd, waiting for instruction on where to go.

“Please stay in your room groups, follow the map you’ve been given. You’ll be taken to where your group will be starting, just follow the map back to camp. Everyone understand?”

There are excited chatters as everyone groups up with their friends. Unfortunately for you, the crowd parts to reveal Regina who’s giving you a look like she might murder you in the woods and leave you there.

You wait, in silence, next to Regina, for a camp member to pick you up in a jeep and drive through the forest to your particular starting point.

“Please don’t make me, don’t leave me here. I’m too pretty for this” Regina whines as the keep drives away, leaving you both stranded in a clearing.

Against better judgement you decide to speak. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go with Karen and Gretchen.”

“Whatever, just give me the map.” She snaps and snatches it from your hands. Wordlessly she stomps off through the trees. You have no option but to follow like a lost puppy.

As it happens, Regina isn’t a great map reader. And lots of the forest looks identical which makes it even harder. Your feet start to ache, you feel like you’ve been walking in circles for the past couple of hours.

“Can I please just look quickly, I trust you know where we’re going but I think I should still just look at the map” you try to reason which was clearly an awful move because she starts to turn around slowly to face you.

She moves,she’s stalking you like prey as she comes towards you.

“Are you calling me dumb?” She growls.

You shake your head, suddenly unable to speak, afraid that any sound past your lips would make her pounce.

“I’m reading the map, loser. I don’t want to be stuck out here any longer than necessary.” She spins around and continues her forward march through the forest.

This is going to be a long day.

It’s been hours since you or Regina said a word to each other, and hours since you started walking. You hadn’t stopped for a break. You managed to eat an apple while you walked, throwing the core into a bush but Regina hadn’t taken her hands off of the map to eat, drink or give you a look at where you were going.

You felt for your box of cigarettes in your pocket. Regina probably wouldn’t turn around or notice, and you needed one now, Regina is really starting to test your patience. Just as you put the cigarette to your lips ready to light ,Regina’s knee buckles and she trips slightly, heading straight for the ground.

Instinctively you go to catch her, both hands under her arms.

“Get off me weirdo.” She barks but it comes out a little more strained than usual. She’s gone pale and there’s a sheen of sweat across her perfect forehead. Somehow she’s still effortlessly beautiful.

She pushes herself up and tries to keep walking but her legs start to falter again and you rush forward again and catch her as she faints.

You try calling her name, shaking her gently, offering her water but nothing brings her round. Her hands feel cold.

Fuck.

In a panic you call the emergency number a teacher had given you and someone says they’ll come to collect you both in a jeep and administer first aid.

Regina comes round before the jeep arrives and you can feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off her. You try and think of something to say. She doesn’t speak to you the entire way back.

Everyone stares as they see you both come back to camp after being picked up but Regina plays it off well, bragging that she even gets treated like royalty here. You admire her ability to make quick excuses, and to be honest she still looks like royalty. Beautiful blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, icy blue eyes, sweet vanilla scent, outfit still perfect. Only you noticed the lingering sweat, the nervous look in her eye and the slight grass stain on the back of her jacket.

When the car stops Regina gets out and immediately goes to find Gretchen and Karen to sit together for dinner. Half of you is glad she’s gone, she was starting to get irritating, but you also want to make sure she’s okay. You go back to the table you were at before, you can’t help but watch her again.

Just making sure she’s okay, you repeat to yourself.

This time you watch her eat closely, notice she picks up food and when her friends aren’t looking and drops it under the bench onto the dusty floor. You wonder if that’s why she fainted earlier. You’re not sure why the thought of that makes you angry, and a knot forms in your stomach. It makes it hard to finish your food.

When dinner is over the teachers watch the three girls closely, making sure they go back to their newly assigned cabins. All three comply which means there’s a moody Regina heading your way.

You sit on your bed and pretend not to hear the door open, and keep your eyes fixed on your phone, pretending to read or maybe scroll social media.

The giveaway is that you forgot to let out the breath you were holding.

“If you tell anyone what happened I will ruin your life.”

You just nod, not daring to look up at her until you hear her lay on her bed and roll so she’s facing the wall away from you.

Then you allow your eyes to look at the sleeping lioness, her breathing seems slow. Maybe she’s asleep.

Your eyes trace down her curves- that is dangerous territory. You look away sharply just incase somehow she knows you’re looking.

She’s probably asleep.

You reach over to your bag and try and pull out your switch as quietly as possible. Mario kart, that’ll take your mind off of Regina.

You’re on your third lap when you feel the bed move and smell that addicting, warm vanilla scent.

“What is that you’re playing, dweeb?” It’s like she can’t even ask a normal question without it being insulting.

“Mario kart? Have you never played Mario kart?” You question her, meeting her gaze which seems slightly less intense than usual. To be honest, you can’t really picture someone like Regina playing a dorky game like Mario.

You disconnect the joy cons and throw one at her. She gives you a wary, icy look and picks up one of the controllers, scooting closer while still maintaining a large gap between you both.

You’re disappointed for some reason.

She obviously picks peach, and the pinkest cart, completely ignoring its stats which makes you giggle to yourself. You play as Bowser.

The first race you explain the controls to her, she picks it up quite quickly but you have years of experience on her and win.

She pouts and sends a glare your way. You stick your tongue out.

She giggles, Regina giggles and it might be the best sound you’ve heard. You definitely want to hear more. She doesn’t seem threatening like this. How much of Regina was an act?

The second race, she loses again, you win but not by too much, she’s definitely getting better. When you look over at her, her brows are furrowed and she’s completely lost in the game now, determined to win. The way she licks her lips when she’s concentrating makes you blush, and you’re glad she doesn’t look up.

The third game is nearly neck and neck but you beat her again. She finally snaps.

“What the fuck, you gave me a shit controller! I could have beat you!” She yells.

“Not my fault you suck at Mario kart.” You quip back bravely. She also sucks at losing apparently.

Suddenly she springs up and pounces, desperately trying to grab the controller off of you, but you hold on. You nearly forget why you’re holding it, mostly you’re squeezing the controller to distract yourself from Regina’s hair tickling your face, her lips being so close, her knees either side of your thighs.

She puts up a good fight but you start to see that familiar sheen of sweat and she seems cold and clammy all of a sudden. She must notice this because she huffs out a whatever and gets up, wobbling to her bed.

You miss everything about her suddenly, that one hit of the real Regina was enough to have you addicted.

She lays again, but this time face up, trying to control her breathing. You realise she’s on the verge of passing out again.

“I have a cereal bar in my bag, I don’t want it, you’re welcome to have it.”

She huffs and looks at you.

“I’m not accepting food from anyone after that stunt Cady Heron pulled. Who knows, you might be giving me a bar of lard.” She spits, but you can tell even speaking is hard for her now.

“It was just an offer.” You reply quietly.

Once she’s steadied herself again she stands and rummage through her bag, pulling out a half empty bottle of vodka and 2 plastic cups. She pours 2 shots worth into both and fills it with a fizzy orange mixer. She hands you a cup.

“You better not get too drunk and puke and get me into trouble like Karen.” She says as she takes a sip.

You both drink in silence for a while. The alcohol makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and a little too calm in Regina’s presence.

“Why don’t I know you?” Regina suddenly breaks the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not a new student, so why don’t I know you, I don’t know what you’re about.” She leans towards you like she’s inspecting you.

“I don’t know I just stay out of the drama.” You answer truthfully.

“Huh, boring answer.” She says taking another drink. “You’re friends with Pyro Lez though, that’s not exactly staying out of it.”

You shake your head “I only started hanging with them after that whole mess. Me and Janis have a mutual interest.”

“Is it girls?”

You stutter for a moment and see a glimpse of intrigue flash across Regina’s face.

“It’s art.”

You haven’t lied. That’s what connected you and Janis in the first place, it was a lucky dodge to the question.

She’s staring at you with an unreadable expression and you decide to stand awkwardly and get your cigarettes. You need a break from Regina, this feels all too much like she’s trying to uncover your weak spot.

It’s hard to tell what’s genuine or not.

You sneak outside to your spot from last night and light the cigarette, inhaling deeply, mostly from the butterflies in your stomach, bouncing around your rib cage.

Obviously you noticed Regina at school, who didn’t? But you’ve never had this much interaction with her. You can see why people fall victim to her so easily, there’s a side to her that seems so real, Is this part of her trap? Maybe you’re just easy prey but the chase is feeling all too thrilling.

Everything about her draws you in, golden hair, soft lips, even her scent. Are her lips as soft as they look?

Before you can register, the cigarette is pulled from your lips as you see Regina take a drag and then place it back between your fingers.

You skin burns where her hand brushes yours.

Suddenly she reaches to grip your hand, steadying herself. She clearly feels faint again. She’s swaying slightly and she looks like she’s losing focus.

“You need to eat something.” You state bluntly.

“Whatever you don’t know me.” She spits back, but she’s still gripping your hand. She starts to lean a bit too much.

“Fuck, Regina. Okay we’re going back inside.” You have to half drag her back inside the cabin and prop her up on the bed.

You check the cabins mini fridge, you brought enough food to sustain you that week. You didn’t know if the camp would have vegan food so better safe than sorry. Luckily the cabin had a mini fridge, probably for drinks but you stored some meals in there to keep fresh, and there was a microwave in the small kitchen.

You grab a pot and throw it in the microwave. Hopefully Regina doesn’t mind mushrooms.

She’s still laying on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning. You feel momentarily guilty for drinking with her, you knew she hadn’t eaten, it was a bad idea.

The microwave pings and you grab a fork and take it over to Regina.

“I’m not eating that, it’s probably processed shit.” It comes out as a defeated sigh.

“I made it, just eat something please, passing out wouldn’t be a good look” This makes her think, and she picks up the fork and takes a bite. The whole time she’s glaring at you so you decide to sit on the bed and play on your switch again.

You don’t look up for a good half an hour. Worried that Regina will stop eating if you so much as move. Clearly the whole thing with Cady has made her wary of food. The thought makes you feel sick. The plastics may rule the school but the constant insecurity that seems to come with it is too big of a price to pay.

A quiet voice breaks the silence.

“Thank you.”

You smile slightly but still don’t look up from your game until you hear shuffling and Regina is holding your sketchbook before you have time to snatch it back.

Your heart is in your throat, you’re not sure why her possible criticism of your sketch bothers you so much.

“This is beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, you idiot why don’t you see it, you think, but don’t say it out loud.

She tears the page from your book. Great, Back to cruel Regina, tearing up anything she doesn’t see as worthy.

What you don’t expect is her folding and placing the sketch under her pillow.

“I’m tired now.” She yawns and climbs into bed, flicking the lamp next to her off.

You’re left in the dark, confused, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps across your lips.

#regina george fanfic #regina george x you #regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls fanfic #mean girls 2024 #mean girls #wlw #renee rapp

[somber-sapphic]

HEY could you please do a jj and emily x reader sickfic 🫶

Cabin Fever

〖Summary: You're sick and are stuck on a jet.〗

〖Word Count: 1.4k〗

〖Pairing: Jemily x Sick Reader〗

〖Notes: Criminal Minds is my current obsession so I am perfectly happy to write this. In the future though if people throw in a prompt or two I can probably create a fic that's more suited to what you want :)〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You had started to get sick two days into the case and were incredibly glad that this Unsub had been so easy to catch. With enough cold medicine and tea, you’d been able to stave off the worst of your illness for just long enough to put a killer behind bars. 

Your girlfriends had noticed. The whole team had noticed. Even Garcia had been able to hear your congestion over the phone. You hadn’t really been trying to hide it. You were one of those people who got mushy when you got sick, you wanted to be held and taken care of. 

Had you been home you would have jumped at the opportunity to be coddled but you were working and with work came a more professional relationship with your girlfriends, even if you were sharing a room. But with work came responsibility and all that. 

Now at least you got to go home. You didn't have to look at the faces of dead people or interrogate psychopaths, you could just relax. The box of tissues in front of you was quickly running out with a small pile forming in a plastic bag beside you. Next to the box was a bottle of hand sanitizer, mostly there for Spencer’s peace of mind. The book you were reading had been set aside in favor of an audiobook and headphones, it was just too difficult to focus on the blurry words. 

You’d been given occasional worried looks from the team and Hotch had set a mug of tea down in front of you about an hour ago, but you hadn’t touched it. As nice as the warm liquid would probably feel on your throat you just couldn’t do it. The idea of putting anything into your body made you nervous. It was normal for you when you were sick. Plus, you hated tea.

JJ, noticing that you were getting worse, stood from her spot on the couch beside Emily and walked over to you with a soft warm smile on her face. That was a common expression when she was worried but trying to act like she wasn’t.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?” she asked, slipping into the seat beside you. You glanced over with glassy eyes and offered a tiny smile, desperately wanting to be anywhere but in the air. The pressure on the plane was wreaking hell on your sinuses, your head and face throbbed, and each jolt of turbulence was like a knife in your skin. 

“Don’t feel great.” You admitted, your voice croaky and quiet. The blonde’s face twisted into a look of sympathy, and she reached out to take one of your shaky hands.

“Why don't you go sit with Em? She’s just reading a book; I don’t think she’ll mind some company.” She offered, glancing around at the mess around you. Her crystal blue eyes lingered on the ice-cold mug for an extra second longer than the rest. You could see the gears in her head turning but you weren’t sure where they were going. She knew from experience that you would not be consuming any hot leaf juice.

Emily looked up at the sound of her name, seeming as though she had no awareness of the situation prior. She was deep into a book that seemed to be in Russian which had probably captured her full attention. It wasn’t her best language, so she was taking every opportunity to get better. Mostly to beat Reid. The two apparently had a silent academic challenge thing going.

“Uhhh…” She hesitated, never having been one who really knew how to take care of sick people. The woman had very little experience with being taken care of, so she wasn’t always the best at it. It didn’t matter to you, you wanted her to hold you of course but you really didn’t need anything else.

JJ shot her a look that said, ‘do it or I’ll end you’ and Emily quickly scrambled into a sitting position so that you could take over most of the couch. She opened her arm and beckoned you over, hugging you tight when you crawled into her lap.

You sniffled thickly and a pained moan escaped your lips. Every part of your body ached and lying down seemed only to make it worse. Emily frowned down at you, not entirely sure what to do. JJ had wandered over to the back of the plane, going through the fridge to find something.

The others were all doing their own thing, collectively ignoring you. That was perfect because you really didn’t want attention from them. Especially not the facts. Never before had you been so glad that Reid was asleep.

“What can I do?” Your girlfriend muttered, lowering her voice for your benefit. You shrugged and shuddered, curling up more tightly against her. It didn’t soothe the pain in your muscles, but it temporarily stopped the shivering which made the pain worse.

Emily grabbed the blanket at your feet and pulled it up around you, doing the best that she could not to jostle you too much. She looked back over to JJ who had procured what she wanted and was (thankfully) returning to help.

“Sit up for a second love.” The media liaison coaxed, pulling you up gently with the help of Emily. She produced two small pills and your favorite color Gatorade, suppressing a smile at the amusement on your face. You were surprised that they had it, the only thing that you would drink when you were sick.

With little hesitation you took the pills, wondering why you hadn’t done so earlier. The fever that was currently doing the most damage probably had something to do with it, for some reason, you’d completely forgotten that things like Tylenol existed and had settled for cough medicine instead.

“Now, lay back down for a bit. We land in a few hours, try to get some sleep. I’m going to go work on wrapping some case notes up with Hotch, just take a nap on Em, okay?” She bent forward and kissed your hot dry forehead, mentally noting your temperature. Emily looked mildly alarmed but nodded when you turned to her, signaling that it was okay.

“Do you uh, want me to read? In English of course. It’ll be good to practice some translation.” she asked, patting the book that she had put to the side. You coughed quietly and rested your head in her lap, snuggling close. The worry melted off of her face and she rested one of her hands on the side of your head and began to stroke your cheek.

“If you want. M’just gonna lay here.” You mumbled, grabbing one of her legs to hug. Some part of you worried that she would leave and didn’t quite connect the facts that one she would never do that and two there was literally nowhere she could go.

“Alright. You rest, let me know if you need anything.” You closed your eyes as she picked her book back up and began to read silently, missing the smile from JJ. She’d been watching the exchange from afar, waiting to jump in just in case Emily fumbled it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in the profiler, it was just that she could be so incredibly awkward sometimes and JJ knew that what you really needed right now was someone to hold you. She itched to jump in and lie on your other side but the quicker she got her work done the better it would be when you finally got home.

“Everything okay?” Hotch asked, following JJ’s gaze. The blonde shook herself slightly and looked back down at the papers, sighing softly.

“Yeah. They’ll be okay. It’s probably the flu, I’m not sure if they got a shot this year. It’s been busy.” She breathed, dragging a hand across her face. The boss nodded sharply and returned to the work in front of him, not requiring any further explanation. That was good enough for JJ.

She went back to her work in silence, glancing up every so often to make sure that you and Emily were okay. While you felt like crap and the pressure in your body wasn’t allowing any level of comfort you knew that eventually you would. But for a while, you’d happily let yourself be cared for by these two wonderful women.  

#fever #sick fanfic #sick fanfiction #sick reader #sickfic #fanfiction #ill #illness #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfction #criminal minds sickfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #jemily x reader #jj x emily #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #jemily x sick reader #jennifer jareau x sick reader

[biscuitbox23]

Dead weight.

summary: you run into the woods to get away from the group, you were reaching the end of your life as you suffer from aplastic anemia, only to get stopped by Rick.

A/n: I’m not a medical expert, i have no familiarity with the field of medicine I am just an idiot who is a sucker for terribly made sad stories. This may be a very long opening to the actual climax so im sorry for that :( please do DM me for advice on how i can make my fanfictions better!

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of the illness, non-established relationship (rick and reader), mentions of death, angst, cursing. (Not much due to me being a minor.) somewhat bad grammar since English isn’t my second language.

words: 1.3K

It has been a while, well, a while since you had a good stock of medicine. You had been in an abandoned cabin a few months after the outbreak. During it, you got stuck in a pharmacy in Atlanta. The law was gone now, so you hoarded a ton of antibiotics, capsules, injections, and anything you could get your grubby hands on.

When Rick and Daryl saved you from a trio of men who were trying to take advantage of you, you joined them and did not stay inside forever, especially when blood stained the floors of your shelter. It was a mistake.

You wanted to stay with yourself, isolated from the horrors and sacrifices that the world has offered now. It was harder to find medication now that most stores were stripped clean. It was easier for you to catch minor fevers, and you tended to have more rest than the others in the group. The only reason you were there is because you knew how to survive.

In the woods, in the apocalypse, no problem. Whatever your dad knew your dad would teach you, he was an outdoor person and loved to forage different shrooms and plants. God knows what happened to him.

You grew closer to the group, helping them find food and clean water, scavenging what you can find in abandoned retail stores (even if it does not have much importance.)

Now you find yourself walking out of Alexandria by attempting to climb the steel borders to the outside of the wall, your head spinning as drowsiness has consumed you to your very core, yet you still have the urge to continue. Or else you are just dead weight. You had a few foot slips —you swear, Enid makes it look easy— but managed to get out. You can sense your muscles aching as if you did not even have the strength to pull yourself up despite climbing trees more than a million times when you were a teen. You needed to disappear 

from the people, the group. Rick.

Rick was a leader, for sure. He had all the correct morals and cunningness and looked up to him for it. You were no longer the person of any use to him and his group. You could not even defend yourself without stumbling down to the ground.

You were around when T-dog and Lori passed away. You 

remembered falling for Rick when you first saw him, only to discover he had a pregnant wife and a kid. It started like a rocky road. You were so used to the isolation that it took a lot of convincing to get you to come with them to the prison.

You took a liking to his daughter Judith. You loved babies. It was a surprise. You thought that you would never find a baby in this world again. Carl was the closest to you. You tell him stories about your life and would do the same, reminiscing about the world that used to be. He praised his father a lot and got a good idea of what Rick was like as a father. Hershel would check up on your health while Rick would stand beside the old sport as Hershel examines you.

Making your way into the woods, you stopped by a tree to take a breather. Your hands were on your knees as you stared down to the ground, crinkles of the leaves crushing on the bottom of your shoes. The night was cold and airy. The chill on the tip of your nose was evident as you took one more glance at the haven that shielded the real outside world from its inhabitants. The sour stench of rotting meat was not detectable and gave some fresh air — It is not like you cannot get fresh air in Alexandria. You want to be alone most of the time.

“thought I'd find you here." A voice called out, the voice echoing in your ears sounding familiar as the crunching of leaves has gotten closer and closer.

“fuck” you curse under your breath, “how did you find me?”

“Carl saw you tryin’ to climb the walls.”

“huh,” you playfully scoffed but was met with a chill and a cough, “thought I was being sneaky…”

“what're you doin’ out here?” Rick asks out of the blue, staring you up and down as you lean back into the tree.

“Rick," you sighed heavily, “go back.”

“I'm not goin’ back till you tell me what happened, y‘know that, don’t you?” Rick asked with a twinge of concern mixed with his southern drawl.

You paused.

“I'm leaving, Alexandria,” You rubbed your forehead as your stomach grumbled. Sliding down to sit as your back leaned onto the tree further.

“If this is about your illness we can make—“Before Rick could finish his sentence you interrupted.

“Make it work? Yeah, I don’t think so…” You retorted, “You don’t understand, Rick. I have a condition where my bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells, and I have no meds to help me, what are the chances of finding a pharmacy? A pharmacy where it has all the things I need to survive?” You spat, frustration filling your mind like hot liquid.

“Denise can help you, Y/n, you have seen her efforts in helping you,” You can sense Rick’s desperation to get you back to Alexandria’s infirmary. His voice remained gentle but firm.

“Why, Rick?” Your eyes stared into Rick's ocean blue orbs, frustration, and confusion, “I’m not strong, anymore. I can’t go on runs, anymore. I can’t protect anyone.”

“Because we still need you—“

“Maybe it’s you who still needs me, Rick…” You spat, leaning your head on the wood as you got the strength to finally stand up, with the support of the tree, of course.

“Y/n we can discuss this once we get back,” Rick sighed, coming closer to you as he held both your arms gently.

A rush of adrenaline painfully scours into your veins as you push him away with all the remaining strength you have.

“GODDAMNIT RICK, WHY CANT YOU JUST LET ME DIE OUT THERE!” You yelled at him. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE A BURDEN AND YOU SAW HOW MANY PILLS I HAD ON THE TABLE!”

Rick scoffed, “You're giving up now? After all that has happened? The prison, terminus… and you decide to end it all here? Where we’re finally safe?” His tone wasn’t as gentle but it was now harsher, deeper.

“if you think more treatments, will change anything, it won’t. I'm done and I won't let you guilt me into continuing this charade.”

“then what’re you gon’ tell Carl, hm? That you’re sick of bein’ alive so now you’re gonna leave?”

“This isn’t about Carl, Rick it’s about you keeping me to fill in the gap of what Lori gave you,” you glare with poison in your very eyes. “Leaving you to care for a child that was never yours.”

Rick went quiet, as you realized what you had said, “i-I’m sorry… Rick…” you pleaded, holding his hands.

Rick sighed, “Maybe you're right."

You nodded, your breath becoming shorter as your legs finally give in. You feel your body starting to shut down. Rick helped you sit down comfortably on the ground. You were paler and had many bruises on your arms and legs. You were heating up again.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” you breathed heavily, clutching the hand he gave you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Rick comforted you, kissing her knuckles as her legs trembled. Rick’s voice was shaky, almost labored.

“I don’t wanna turn, you can ask Daryl to keep my gun, you’ll need it,” You softly chuckled. Rick looked at you, taking his revolver from his holster.

“Get back to Alexandria, to Judith…” you smiled as you felt bile in your throat, blocking your airway and your heartbeat becoming more abnormal.

Rick gives you a final kiss on the head as an act of kindness and comfort on the edge of a quick and painless death.

—————————————————————

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my very first Fanfic and I thought about it on the spot 😭 Reading it for me makes me kinda cringe but don’t we all? Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it (cuz I didn’t but I’m a sucker for tragic love)

#rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #andrew lincoln #first fanfic #the walking dead universe #BiscuitWrites #twd oneshot

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🗡️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Twelve

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: None.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~3.0k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The clock hanging on the wall told you that it was just shy of four am, and your eyes burned something fierce to back that up. At this point, Shanks had developed a fever that made sweat drip from his forehead and cold sweats rattle his body. Was this common enough of an occurrence that the men usually just left him to sleep till morning? The thought horrified you because Shanks was clearly suffering. You had suffered from a fever once, your mother had punished you by making you stay outside in the rain overnight after you had made a mistake. The headache alone had left you whimpering in bed and the cold sweats combined with body aches had you all but catatonic. Your mother hadn’t apologized and had even gotten mad all over again because you had been bed ridden for a week.

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you reached over and placed the back of your hand against his forehead once more. How could he feel even hotter now? Your lips pinched and you reached for the cloth, dipping it back in the bowl of cool water to wipe the newest layer of sweat that had accumulated. You ran it along his forehead, brushing back sweaty red strands and contemplating if you should just go and grab Hongo. Moving to stand up, you were caught off guard when clammy fingers closed around your retreating ones.

“Leaving so soon?” Your eyes darted to Shanks, your face brightening up that he was awake. Sitting back down, you gave him a faint smile while giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.

“I should get Hongo, your fever is only getting worse and I think you might need medicine.” You told him, looking to the door of the cabin. Shanks’ grip on your hand tightened.

“And leave me all alone?” The look in his eyes was pleading, but you could also see something simmering deeper within his dark eyes. Shanks tugged on your hand, pulling it towards his mouth were he kissed your knuckles. “You wouldn’t be so mean, madam.”  Your fingers twitched beneath his hot lips and you swallowed hard.

“I absolutely would,” You replied faintly, tugging your joined hands away from his lips and back to his side. “Your fever is getting worse and I’m concerned.”

“Everything will be fine if you are here,” Shanks said, his voice dropped in tone. His lips curved into a teasing smirk that you had always found rather attractive and you had to count to five in your head. Clearly his fever had addled a few brain cells… or had it? “It’s always nice to have such treasure at my side.”

“Wishful thinking,” You told the man, using your other hand to push his head back to the pillow. “Go to sleep, you need it.” Shanks followed your orders, but his intense gaze didn’t stray once from your lovely face. You were going to pull your hand back, but his grip on your fingers remained firm and strong. “Are you going to let my hand go?”

“Why would I do that?” Shanks shot back, his lazy smile widening. “It fits in mine so perfectly.” You blinked at him and raised an eyebrow. Oh yes, most certainly addled…

“Will you rest if I hold your hand?” You probed, hoping that you could sway him into making a good choice in regards to his health by staying in bed.

“If the madam insists,” Shanks agreed, snuggling back into his bed. You sighed in relief and slumped back against the chair. Observing his face, you noticed that while he had closed his eyes to rest, a big grin was still plastered on his face.

“What is so exciting about holding my hand?” You asked, Shanks didn’t open his eyes but replied nonetheless.

“What isn’t exciting about holding your hand?” He stated with honesty.   “There are a great many things I would like to do with you, treasure, and holding your hand is the least of it.” You rolled your eyes and told him to go back to sleep.

When Shanks woke up after breaking through the worst of his phantom pain fever, he was surprised to find himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin. Last he remembered, his stump had been throbbing as he and the men pushed through jungle and storm to hunt down the devil fruit they had come for. He must have had a flare up. But why was he in his bed when you were occupying it?

“Aria demanded it,” Hongo’s voice was whisper soft, and twisting his head to the side, Shanks saw him packing up a few medical supplies. Hongo eyed his Captain. “The bed. She demanded Benn put you in your bed, put her foot down so I hear.” Shanks eyebrows rose.

“Aria got up when we got back? Did the men wake her?” Hongo snorted, clearly the overnight fever had gotten to his Captain because in what world would you have gone to bed worried?

“You’re assuming she went to bed in the first place, Shanks.” Hongo corrected him. “She never did. Spent the entire day pacing around like a caged animal. I had her do inventory to get her mind off worrying.” Shanks wasn’t happy to hear that. He knew you hadn’t been happy with their decision to follow through with their plans, but you hadn’t tried to stop them. But he hadn’t expected this bad of a reaction! “She said she had a bad feeling, lasted all day and it was making her physically nauseous. Turns out she was right.”

“Job still had to be done.” Shanks rasped back, grimacing from the lingering headache.

“Aye, and you can tell her that yourself.” Hongo agreed before snickering. “After she gives you a lecture about doing jobs in bad weather.” The doctor nodded his chin to the other side of Shanks bed, and that is when the red haired pirate realized he had his fingers wrapped around a hand. Rolling his head to the other side, Shanks was met with the sight of lavender hair spilling onto the side of his bed next to his hand which was enveloping yours quite securely. “Don’t know when she finally passed out but by the looks of it she was up for a while.”

Shanks was not pleased to hear that you had stayed up so late because of him, but he was grateful to have you at his side. Now if he could just get out of this bed and get you into it…

“And don’t even think about swapping places with her,” Hongo called Shanks out. Shanks gave his doctor a glare while Hongo picked up his med box. “You still have a bit of a fever and Aria will not be happy to wake up in bed.”

“Remind me again who the Captain of this ship is?” Shanks asked, grimacing as a shaft of sunlight hit his eyes.

“Not you while the madam is bossing everyone around.” Hongo snorted, making a quick get away before Shanks could toss out a come back. “Stay put, for Aria’s sake.” With that, the doctor was out the door leaving Shanks alone in his cabin with you still blissfully asleep next to him. He didn’t dare wake you from your sleep, not after the night you had. Who was supposed to be watching over who again?

The longer you remained on the Red Force, the more you came out of the shell hardened by your upbringing. It was rather amusing to watch you boss men twice your size around, and yet, there was something so nice about having a company of a female on board his ship. He glanced down at his hand, firmly wrapped around yoursin great indicator of who was holding who’s hand. He could take secret enjoyment in how nicely your fingers fit in his. Perfectly even.

Shanks settled back into his bed and allowed the floral scent of your soap to fill his senses. Lavender. He and the men always made sure that you had what you needed when if came to personal care items such as soap and shampoo. None of them really knew what scent to get you, but they all knew of your hate for roses. They had argued more than any of them cared to admit over the choices of scent before Benn had suggested lavender. It was a nice enough scent, the men would always remember it because of your lavender hair, and you had been looking at some lavender products on one of their stops.

Your fingers twitched in his grasp and you let out a soft groan. Shanks watched as you slowing lifted your head and blearily blinked through lavender strands of hair. Your eyes met his and for a few precious moments, Shanks got to stare into your unguarded eyes. Then it clicked into your mind that Shanks was awake and staring back at you and you jerked into a sitting position, you fingers abruptly sliding from his and eyes re-guarding themselves.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, relief flooding your sluggish and tired body. Shanks gave you a small smile before squinting closer at your face. He’d been so taken by your unguarded eyes that he hadn’t even noticed that you had dark marks beneath them.

“And you look exhausted,” Shanks replied, raising his hand to brush his fingertips over the evidence of your exhaustion. You gave him a look in return.

“That tends to happen when one stays up worrying,” You stated dryly. Shanks didn’t miss the light barb in your words and let his fingers trail down your face before reaching for your hand again. You let him take it.

“I know you aren’t happy that we went out in that weather,” He started, observing your eyes which narrowed. “But think about it, bad weather, low visibility… it was the perfect time for us to nab the item we were after and had the least amount of risk.”

“Least amount of risk?” You repeated, hardly believing what you were hearing. “Shanks, Benn had to carry you back to the ship and I spent the night watching your body temperature go higher and higher! I might not be versed in the conditions you suffer from but even I know that the weather conditions you headed out in yesterday habitually worsen your ailment.” Shanks dropped back against the pillow and tried not to groan at your scolding.

“Amputation, stump, call it what it is Aria. No need for you to dance around calling it an ailment.”

“It’s called having tact,” You snipped out with attitude. “I’m finding that many people are without.”

“Aye, and that’s what makes you so special.” He agreed, ignoring the ache his shoulder made at that moment. “I know what triggers flare ups but this trip wasn’t one I could put off.” You still had a sour look on your face. “It is also not the first time I’ve had a flare up, nor will it be my last.” Your scowl deepened and the pirate sighed. He was making this worse, wasn’t he? “Forgive me for putting myself in harms way for the sake of the mission?” An almost unbearable period of silence followed as you thought over his words.

“Considering you will most likely be repeating such circumstances in the near future, I shall acquiesce to your apology.” You finally sighed out. “Such are the perils of pirating and I shall never truly understand it, but it is your passion and therefore I will respect your choices.”

“That was the most passive aggressive response to an apology I have ever heard.” Shanks huffed out, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “But if it means you aren’t going to be scowling at me I will take it. Your smile is far too lovely for your face to be etched with worry.”

“Then take the rest you need lying down,” You chided, fussing over him once more.

You were back on dry land, handing over the devil fruit the men had claimed during the storm. Well, Benn was, you were with Shanks exploring the local market. It wasn’t as busy as the one you had been to on Ingles so you were far more relaxed in the environment. Shanks let you wander from stall to stall, eyes shining brightly from the hand crafted goods. You were content to look, preened over the simplest of objects, and never asked for a single thing.

Shanks would have bought you anything you desired, but you didn’t ask for anything. Not for one of the pretty necklaces a craftsman had tried to peddle to you. Nor any of the fancy, decadent pies that smelled heavenly. Not even the delicate taiyaki that were being freshly made despite you setting your eyes on them and not being able to take them off. The hungry look in your eyes became too much and he placed his hand on your back and pushed you towards the stand.

“Come on,” He spoke with a smile and chuckle. “It’s been a few hours since breakfast and I think we’re both due for a snack.”

“You aren’t just saying that because I’ve been drooling, have you?” You probed, eyeing the red haired man scrupulously while patting your lips. His grin widened and pushing you up to the stall, Shanks proceeded to order a batch of red bean taiyaki, handing coins over to cover the cost of the treats. You watched in rapt attention as the fish treats were made fresh, right in front of you. A thought popped into your mind when the treats were being filled with a brown mixture. “I have no idea what red bean tastes like Shanks.”

He gave you a reassuring smile.

“Do you like chocolate?”

“Based on the rare occasion that I had a taste I believe I do.” You answered, thinking back to the last time you had chocolate. That’s right, it had been a tea party for one of your mother’s friends and the cook had made special chocolate tarts. They had looked delicious and smelled divine! But naturally, your mother had only allowed you to eat a few meager bites before declaring that it was such a nice day and you had wanted to show the ladies the garden. So with several approving tuts from the older women you had been herded away from your barely touched tart. Shanks saw your mind disappear on him for a few moments, shrouded in distant pain, but didn’t press what you were thinking about.

“Well I can’t say you’ll definitely like red bean because you’ve never had it, but they have chocolate in the filling.” Shanks told you brightly.

“I am more than willing to try it if my drooling hadn’t clued you in,” You said with a frank look. “At this point in my life I am willing to try everything.”

“Don’t overdo it, I don’t want you getting sick again,” You snorted as Shanks took the bag of freshly cooked taiyaki from the vendor. He held out the bag to you and you peered inside before taking one. Golden brown, the treat was almost too hot to handle as you and Shanks began walking again. You started nibbling on the edge of the pastry, getting a sense of the texture first. Then deciding that you liked how the breaded part tasted, took delicate bite to not burn your mouth. That was all it took for you to take another bite, and then another, and another, until the entire taiyaki was gone and you were reaching for another one. “What did I just say?”

You ignored Shanks’ comment and devoured the next treat, sighing in such happiness that anyone around you might have thought that nothing in your little world could have ever been wrong. Your petulance was amusing and despite the fact that Shanks was worried you might over do it with the taiyaki, he didn’t stop you from demolishing half the bag. Walking around some more, you made several stops to look at fabric bolts, a stall with various trinkets, and even a little shop that sold music boxes!

You took extra time looking at the music boxes, finding one that played a short little piece that reminded you of your childhood nanny. She had been nice to you and a wonderful supplement to the lack of maternal presence in your life. But she had been too nice to you and your mother had gotten rid of her not even a year after she had first come to Bonn Manor. You remembered that she used to hum a song from her home island as she bathed you, brushed out your hair, and tended to your needs. It was, perhaps, the only fond memory you had in your life.

You couldn’t buy it, not when you had to be careful with your Berry.

So you moved on, leaving an observant Shanks to trail after you while  making a mental note to come back and buy the music box you had spent so much time staring at with such a fond expression. It wasn’t something you’d let him buy for you outright, so he was going to have to resort to playing dirty. Grinning at the knowledge that you both would play dirty towards each other, Shanks lounged after you thinking about all the sneaky ways he could spoil you for surely at this point in your life you were deserving of it.

Well, all of his crew, Shanks included thanks to his red hair, had a piece of red on them. For Benn it was a special red hair tie that never came loose or got lost. Lucky Roux had his favorite red goggles, Limejuice a red shirt that he always wore, and Bonk Punch a red vest. All of the crew had some red item, except you. But Shanks didn’t want you to have a red shirt, or a red hair tie, or a pair of goggles. You needed something that fit you. His eyes caught sight of a local jewelers stand and the pirate began sneakily steering you towards it while you happily munched on the remaining taiyaki.

Date Published: 2/28/24

Last Edit: 2/28/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#shanks x reader #shanks x you #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece #opla #opla shanks

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part XII: Clemens Point i

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem reader

word count: 12.2k

summary: Having had a few weeks to adjust to the new camp, you're itching to get out. The cure to your cabin fever ends up being a rather troublesome trip to Rhodes with Arthur and Sadie. You and arthur are interrupted when Hosea invites you to a fishing trip, and the trip itself proves to be more trouble than you had planned.

a/n: I'm back! Most of you know that my dog had an emergency vet visit last Wednesday, and he ended up going under. He's doing much better now, thank you to everyone for all your kind thoughts and wishes for him. Sorry for the delay in posting!

warnings: graphic violence, brief sexual themes

beta read by @margowritesthings

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

Water laps at the shoreline, running over your boots as you walk through the grassy sand. Arthur is by your side, leading you in the direction of camp. It’s been a busy week, and you find these little walks along the lake a perfect distraction from the madness of the new camp. It’s been nothing but chores, and you haven’t even gotten the chance to venture out into town yet. You're going stir crazy, and the lake seems to be your only escape. 

Arthur started joining you soon after he picked up on the habit, and now sometimes you’ll go out for hours, getting lost in conversation while sitting in the grass. He'd gone out with you early in the morning, and you're just making your way back now.

“Likin’ the new camp?” Arthur asks. Your eyes are on the sand, watching how it shifts under your boots with each step. 

“Yeah, actually, I do. It’s nice bein’ by the water.” You hum, watching the sun rise over the lake. 

“Ain’t the heat buggin’ you?” Arthur chuckles, and you smile, glancing over at him. Even in the early morning hour, beads of sweat cling to his forehead, soaking through some spots on his shirt. He’s always  warm, it’s no wonder this heat is miserable for him. 

“No, I enjoy it.” You admit, basking in the warm sun. You’ll take the warmth over the cold any day, especially after Colter.

The heat is not the only change that moving south has brought about. The dirt roads have an oddly orange-red hue, the trees have changed from oaks and pines to mangroves and bald cypresses, even the people have changed. From what you’ve heard, this is a more dangerous place to be. People are less understanding, and some are even stuck in their heads, acting like it’s the 40s. Stupid bastards. There are pros and cons, but really, you’re just glad to be away from the Pinkertons. 

“Don’t you like it?” You ask him, looking up at Arthur as the two of you walk the shore. He cocks his head in thought. 

“I don't know. It ain't the same, I guess.” Arthur hums, and you nod. You know he really enjoyed the nature in New Hanover. He was frequently sketching the wildlife and the cliffs. You reckon he’ll find that passion here too, he just hasn’t seen all the beauty Lemoyne has to offer yet.

“Lots of memories in Horseshoe.” Arthur sighs. 

“That there are.” You agree quietly. You walk side by side for a while, soaking in the sun, enjoying the sounds of Flat Iron Lake. It's a beautiful morning spent together, and you try to soak in as much as you can. 

“We outta go to the fence, cash in those gold bars.” Arthur says, and you perk up at the thought. Not only are you excited for the money, you want to get out of camp. 

“Is there one around here?” You ask, looking up at Arthur. The morning sun is casting him in a bright orange glow as he rubs at the stubble on his chin, thinking of any acquaintances that might know of a fence. 

“Probably. There’s a town nearby called Rhodes. I reckon there's a fence there. If not, Emerald Ranch ain’t too far.” 

You approach the outskirts of camp, and you can hear the stomping before you even see her. 

“You!” Grimshaw hisses, stomping from her bedroll. Arthur shoots you a pitiful look as Grimshaw grabs your arm tightly and drags you back into camp, “Quit lollygaggin! And Mr. Morgan, stop distractin’ her!” Ms. Grimshaw yells. 

“Sorry Ms. Grimshaw." You whisper, hurrying behind her as she pulls you along. 

“At least you have manners. Now there’s laundry to be done, so get to it.” Grimshaw yells, shoving you towards the bins of lye and water where the other girls are. You fight the urge to call her an old bitch, instead opting to curse under your breath. 

The girls are sitting on a blanket around the bins of water, lye and clothes., and you take a seat at the washing station. Looking up, you're met with a bittersweet glance from Arthur, before he parts and starts on his own daily tasks. 

"We've missed you!" Marybeth calls, smiling brightly as she sits beside you with her wash rack and pail. 

"Yeah, we never see you anymore! Too good for us now? A high society lady like Molly?" Karen chastises, and you glance across camp to the red-haired woman, filing her nails on Dutch's cot.

"What?" You ask, not understanding how they could possibly equate you to Molly. You listen on, taking one of Jack’s shirts from the pile and rinsing it in the lye mix. 

"We ain't stupid!" Karen laughs loudly. You still don't understand, and you shake your head, eyebrows pulled together. Marybeth leans forward, biting her lip with a juicy piece of gossip on her tongue. 

"We see him goin' in your tent at night." Marybeth whispers, pulling away to squeal excitedly. Karen laughs, winking at you. 

Immediately your face falls– this is exactly why it was meant to be kept quiet. 

"It ain't what it looks like." You bite. 

"What? So you're not laying with Dutch's right hand man?" Karen teases. 

"Karen." Tilly warns from beside you, speaking up to stop the girl from embarrassing you or herself. But unsurprisingly, Karen doesn't listen.

"It's not just– it ain't like that." You huff, shaking your head, "Sides, what business is it of yours?" You snap. 

Karen goes quiet for a moment, but you see the crack of a smile on her lips as you continue working dirt stains out of Jack's shirt. 

 "So… you are havin' a tiff with him!" Karen points out, "When can we expect little Morgans runnin' around?" She snorts, and Marybeth covers her mouth to stop herself from cracking up.

"Leave it." You hiss. Karen and Marybeth take the hint, backing away from your bite as their giggles die down. 

"I'm sorry. It's just… nothing ever happens in camp– nothin' good anyway, nothin like this." Marybeth explains. 

You understand, you do. But this is something new, good and intimate between you and Arthur and you don't want it gossiped over or turned into something it's not. 

"I never meant to upset you, Star, really… Here, let me do your hair. Grimshaw ain't lookin." Marybeth says. Her tone is back to hushed and sweet instead of teasing. 

You nod, placing down your things before sitting down on the ground. Marybeth sits behind you, intertwining her fingers into your hair. She starts a braid at the back of your head, leaving a few loose pieces hanging down to frame your face. 

"Do you love him?" Marybeth asks you quietly and you huff. 

"I feel like a lot of people been askin' me that." You sigh, "I– It's all new." You excuse, knowing that you absolutely do love him, more than anything. And that little fact terrifies you.

"Is he good in the sack?" Karen asks. 

"Now, come on, Karen. That's no question to ask." Tilly stands up for you, raising her eyebrows at Karen until she backs off, "And Marybeth, this isn't a romance novel. Both of you, leave the poor girl be." 

It grows quiet as Marybeth pulls your hair into a loose braid. You flick the rowel of your spur, watching it spin a few times as you think. 

"This is the only reason I wanted to keep it quiet. Especially with Micah comin' back any day, and how some of the boys are. This is special, and I don't want it spoiled by the likes of the men in this camp. Usually I'd just start hittin 'em but I can't afford to be on Dutch's bad side right now." You admit. 

"My lips are sealed." Marybeth says at your back and you turn your head to the side, nodding. 

"Of course, we won't say anything." Karen adds, dipping a shirt into the soapy water. 

Marybeth ties the bottom of your braid off with a red ribbon, making a little bow with the fabric. 

"Flowers?" Marybeth asks hopefully, holding up a little woven basket of stemless flowers that she'd plucked from the new camp's surrounding woods. 

"Sure." You hum, looking back to sift through the basket. You're wearing a black shirt, and the red contrasts nicely, so you pull out a few crimson colored geranium petals and hand them to her. 

"Good choice." Tilly smiles, seeing the way you match perfectly. 

"We oughta get you some red lipstick!" Karen hoots, and you chuckle. 

"I don't need no damn lipstick." You smirk as Marybeth places the petals in between the woven hair of your braid.

"Yeah, cause it'll end up on Arthur's lips anyhow!" Marybeth snickers, and you reach behind you to smack her knee. 

"Hush up." You bite playfully, shaking your head at their banter. 

"Uh, what is goin' on over there?" Karen asks. You glance up from your lap, eyes scanning around the camp for the apparent disturbance. 

You lock onto the fight happening behind Pearson's table, eyes going wide. Marybeth's hands still in your hair as everyone watches on. Sadie and Pearson had been chopping vegetables for the night's stews but now their knives are up and pointed at each other. They're about to go at each other's throats, yelling at eachother with heated looks. Just as you're about to stand up and stop the apparent fight, Arthur stomps over, placing himself between the pair of fools. 

"What is wrong with you two?!" Arthur tells, shoving them apart. Sadie practically snarls, her knife still pointed in Pearson's direction. 

"I ain't choppin' vegetables for a livin'!" She yells from across camp, and Tilly huffs from behind you. 

"Get used to it." Karen bites quietly. 

Arthur nearly laughs at her statement, putting his hands on his belt. 

"Oh, I'm sorry madam, was there insufficient feathers in your pillow?" He asks sarcastically, taking a step towards Sadie so that she can see the annoyance playing out on his face. 

Marybeth puts a few more flowers into your braid before you turn and thank her quietly, standing up to help ease the situation. At least in Colter, Sadie trusted you. Though you haven't really seen her since then, she's been a shell, until now. 

“Look, I ain’t lazy, Mr. Morgan. I'll work, but not this.” Sadie says, her voice coming down a notch as you approach Arthur, standing by his side. 

“Well ain’t cookin work?” Arthur huffs, perplexed by the idea of Sadie picking and choosing what she does and doesn’t want to do. Sadie ignores Arthur’s question, and her eyes flicker to you as she scans you up and down. 

“She gets to run with the men.” Sadie points out in a hiss, her finger pointing at you before she looks back to Arthur with crossed arms, waiting for an explanation. 

“I want in.” She growls, “If you leave me here with this fat old coot for another second I’ll skin him and serve him.” Sadie hisses, raising her knife back up to Pearson. Pearson scowls as he steps forward, enraged.

“Watch your mouth, you crazy goddamn fishwife!!” Pearson roars, and Sadie lunges at him. You grab Sadie by the waist, pushing her back away from Pearson. Arthur puts his arm out, stopping Pearson. 

“Enough!” Arthur roars, putting an end to the childlike argument. 

“You want to run with the men?” You ask, stepping up to Sadie, “Then let’s go.” Your voice is irritated. Running out on jobs isn't fun. Sure, you have more freedom, but you’ve nearly died and lost the people you love more times than you can count. 

“Wait–” Arthur protests, but you raise your hand, stopping him. 

“No. If she wants to go out, let her. She wants to get shot at, she wants to kill? Let her. I ain’t stoppin’ her.” You say, irritation thick in your voice at the prospect of wanting to be an outlaw. 

“I don’t know.” Arthur shakes his head, worried that something might go wrong. Sadie rolls her eyes, pointing her knife towards you. It’s not a threat, just an extension of her hand as she addresses Arthur. 

“Did you ever question her this much? Jesus.” Sadie asks. Arthur rests his hands on his gun belt, leaning back. 

“No, I didn’t. But she was runnin’ from the law before I even knew her.” Arthur explains, and Sadie glances to you, seeing you in a new light. 

“Let's go then, prove yourself if that's what you wanna do.” You hum, looking up and down at Sadie. You know that she has what it takes, but regardless, you think she’s crazy for wanting to go out. Arthur cocks his head, going with your plan. 

“Alright then, Mr. Pearson, do you need anything while we’re out?” Arthur asks, and Pearson steps forward, pulling a folded up piece of paper from his dirty apron. He extends the paper out to Arthur before reaching back into his apron and bringing out a wad of cash and an envelope. 

“Here’s the grocery list, and could you mail this letter for me?” Pearson asks, and Arthur nods. 

“Sure.” Arthur says, gesturing towards the wagon on the outskirts of camp as he looks back at you both, “Ladies.” He invites you to go first. 

“I’ll take the back.” Sadie says, eagerly jogging towards the wagon as you fall into step with Arthur. Arthur puts all of Pearson’s items into his satchel as he walks towards the wagon with you. 

“She is somethin’ else.” You whisper, chuckling. 

Arthur holds his hand out to help you climb onto the wagon, and you take it as you step up. You take the front seat, sitting down just before Arthur climbs in beside you. 

Your head snaps up as you hear yelling from across the camp. It’s Dutch, hollering over to you three. 

“Arthur! No fighting in Rhodes. I don’t want a single weapon leaving its holster, understand? We are lying low!” Dutch yells, and you roll your eyes. 

“Like we laid low in Valentine?” You snap under your breath, and Sadie snorts. Arthur nods to Dutch, taking his instruction before glancing back at you.

“He’s– he’s tryin’, Star.” Arthur defends Dutch, flicking the reins over the horse backs as he drives you out of Clemen’s Point. You know it’s a sensitive subject for Arthur, so you gently place your hand on his knee for comfort, voice hushed to a whisper. 

“I know he is.” You say quietly, reassuring Arthur. It’s not an easy thing for Arthur to realize that Dutch is losing it, you’ll give him all the time he needs. 

Arthur looks over to you with a small smile. 

“You look real pretty with them flowers in your hair.” Arthur compliments quietly, and your hand moves to intertwine with his own on the wagon bench in between you both. 

“Thank you.” You hum. 

Sadie sits in the back of the wagon, trying not to eavesdrop. The conversation causes the constant ache in her chest to hurt a little more, and she finds herself looking for a distraction to numb the pain. 

“Where’s that letter?” Sadie asks, and Arthur huffs, shaking his head. The wagon breaks from the trees as you enter Scarlett Meadows, driving over the orange tinted roads towards town. 

“Oh, you’re reading his mail now?” Arthur chides. 

“What are you doin–?” Arthur huffs as you let go of his hand, reaching over him to dig through his satchel. 

“Star–” Arthur grumbles, amused and surprised as you pull the envelope from his satchel. 

“Read it out loud, I wanna hear this.” Sadie chuckles. You take the crisp white envelope, breaking the seal with your nail before pulling out the letter. Arthur shakes his head, chuckling as you clear your throat. 

“Dear aunt Cathy, I haven’t heard from you in some time… blah blah blah.” Your eyes scan over the page until you find a particularly interesting paragraph and you pause, reading it, “I am yet to take a wife, but it is not for a lack of suitors!”

Arthur laughs out loud, a hearty boisterous sound as you and Sadie chuckle. 

“Has he ever even talked  to a woman he ain’t paid for?” Sadie asks, lungs aching from her laughter. Your finger follows the line of words as you try to focus, ignoring the bumpy drive. 

“Oh– there’s more!” You chime, eyes focusing back on the letter, “The group that I travel with has picked up two women since I last wrote, and they both court me….”

You pause, eyebrows pulling together as you continue, “Both are too fierce-tempered for my tastes, but nothing that can’t be worked out…”

Sadie leans up behind you in the wagon, glancing over your shoulder at the pages to ensure she’s heard you correctly. Arthur is far too quiet for your liking. 

“Is he talking about us?” Sadie asks, eyes running over the letter.

“He has to be…” You whisper, feeling uneasy at the thought, “That’s… disgusting.” You admit, shivering at the thought of being courted by Pearson. 

“Put that away. I don’t wanna hear it no more.” Arthur grumbles, a dull rage bubbling up in his chest at the idea of someone else bragging about being courted by you. He knows it’s bullshit, and he knows that you’ll deal with Pearson if he doesn’t. 

“I reckon I don't either.” Sadie growls as Arthur takes the wagon over the train tracks. 

“I’ll deal with him later.” You shake your head. 

It grows quiet as you roll on, stuffing the letter back into the envelope. You place it down on the bench seat, intertwining your fingers back through Arthur’s. Instantly he relaxes, shoulders losing their tense state at your touch, and you can hear the breath that he releases. You have a way of calming him down. 

“So Rhodes, what’s it like?” Sadie asks, looking ahead to the buildings she can see. 

“It’s a decent town, I've only been here once or twice n’ that was years ago.” Arthur says, rounding the bend towards the saloon. 

“The people leave somethin’ to be desired.” Arthur grumbles, a sour taste in his mouth. 

The wagon rolls on, going past the saloon until Arthur pulls the horses alongside the general store. He grabs the letter from the bench and hops down from the wagon before stretching a hand up to help you down. 

“Alright, why don’t the two of you grab what we need from the store, I’ll go send this damn letter– and remember, no guns.” Arthur adds, handing you the list and money before grumpily storming off towards the post office. You and Sadie watch him go for a few moments before she turns to you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, he’s no fun.” She sighs, tapping her holster before walking towards the general store doors. 

“We can still have fun without guns. We’ll have them load up the wagon, and we’ll go drinkin’.” You hum. 

Sadie pushes the door open, stepping straight up to the shopkeeper. 

“Ladies, how can I help y’all?” He asks, a big blonde mustache hiding his smile from you. You follow Sadie, placing the list down on the counter. 

“We need all these items loaded into our wagon.” You chime, pointing through the window to your wagon. The shopkeep nods, picking up the list and giving it a onceover. 

“Sure thing, miss, shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Sadie looks you up and down, eyeing your outfit. Then without a word, she walks to the clothing section, sifting through the mens clothes until she finds small enough sizes. She picks out a plaid yellow shirt, a pair of jeans and cowboy boots before walking over and slamming them down on the counter. 

“Add these to the tab, where can I change?” Sadie hisses at the poor shopkeeper. He points behind him to the inventory room. 

“Well I got a room back here, but it ain’t for customers–” He begins, but Sadie is already behind the counter, striding into the room. You can hear the fabric of Sadie’s dress tearing, and when she comes back out, dressed in a similar style to you, the dress is left behind on the ground. 

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” She chuckles, gesturing to the fact that both of you are wearing men’s clothes. They’re more comfortable, breathable and easy to wear… You hate the curious, and often rude, glares you get, but it’s worth it in the end. 

“This should be more than enough, just go ahead and load it all up, please.” You say, leaving the billfold down on the counter. 

“Thank you both!” The man says, sounding a little confused. He glances at the destroyed dress on the floor of his inventory room as you and Sadie exit through the front door. 

“To the saloon.” You smile, walking up the slope towards the Rhodes Parlor House. You can hear the music before you reach the doors. 

You place a hand on each door, pushing them open theatrically as you step inside. Sadie follows suit, walking up to the bar with you. The bartender is polishing glasses and setting them up on the bar. A few patrons line the bar, and you slide in beside a finely dressed man, leaving enough room for Sadie to stand beside you. A pianist plays music on the other end of the saloon, and you hum along before flagging down the bartender. 

“A whiskey.” You order, looking to Sadie for her preferred poison. 

“Make it two.” 

The bartender nods, reaching under the bar to pull out a sparkling bottle of Tennessee whiskey. He pours two shots before sliding them across the bar to you, and you toss a dollar onto the counter.

“Watch this, it’s how I met Arthur– a sort of specialty.” You smirk, downing your whiskey before turning to the man beside you. He’s dressed in an expensive outfit, with many pieces. 

“Excuse me mister?” You chime, and the man turns towards you. He’s clearly intoxicated, a drunken smile stretches across his face as his eyes fall onto you. 

“I'm new to these parts, sir. Do you happen to know where I can buy some sugar? They was out at the store, and I was planning on making my famous apple pie.” You smile sweetly, faking an innocent demeanor, but your fingers are slipping closer to the pocket of his jeans. You keep eye contact to distract him as your hand slides right into his pocket. 

“Oh! Well, miss, I don’t know–” he hiccups, “Maybe ask the store if there’s any in the back!” The man says, smiling brilliantly down at you. 

“Them flowers in your hair are real beautiful, miss.” The man smiles, and you bite back a remark as you smile, gripping onto something papery in his pocket and pulling it out. You shove it into your pocket, eyes scanning over the man. 

“Thank you.” You hum, seeing a lump in the pocket to his vest. The man turns back to the bar, but you grip his arm.

“This is such a nice vest! Where ever did you get it? My husband would suit one so well.” You smile, hand running over the front of his vest to feel the fine material, and a pocket watch right in his vest pocket. 

“The tailor in Saint Denis! He’s a great feller. He’ll have your husband lookin’ sharp.” You thank the man, waiting for him to turn away from you and face the bar again. Through your peripherals, you watch as he looks away, and you quickly snake your supple fingers into his vest pocket, pulling the chain until a huge platinum pocket watch slips out. He’s too drunk to notice, and you slide it into your satchel before turning back to Sadie. 

“Well, shit.” She chuckles, “You pickpocketed Arthur? That’s how you got wrapped up in this?” She whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. You nod, and Sadie shakes her head. 

“I like you.” She chuckles as you both make your way towards the saloon doors, escaping before the man realizes that you’ve stolen from him. 

Just as you approach the door, it swings open and a group of greasy, dirty men stomp through. One of them knocks right into your shoulder, and trips you. You fall to the floor with a gasp, knees and hands hitting the ground harshly. Pain shoots up through your limbs as you turn to glare at the bastard. Sadie reaches for her holster, but you stand up, gripping her arm to stop her.

“Watch where you walk, bitch.” The man spits out through only a handful of teeth. You glare daggers at him, breaking eye contact only as he steps up towards the bar.

“We’s the Lemoyne Raiders! And this fine establishment owes us a tax!” He yells, and all the men unholster their weapons. 

“Go, quickly, go.” You whisper to Sadie, shoving her out the door. You run down the slope towards the wagon, seeing Arthur leaning against it. 

“Where the hell have you two been?!” Arthur growls, but you ignore him, jumping into the wagon. 

“Drive!” You yell, and Arthur looks around before sighing and clambering into the driver's seat. Sadie jumps into the back of the wagon just as Arthur slaps the reins over the horses’ backs. 

“What did you two do?” Arthur growls, driving the horses quickly out of town. 

“It wasn’t us. A gang of fellas came in and started demanding a tax, knocked me to the damn ground.” You sigh. 

“We needed to get out of there before it got violent, I wasn’t about to go against Dutch’s orders on my first outing.” Sadie adds. Arthur looks over at you, scanning the dirt scuffed on your knees and the scrape on the palms of your hands. 

“They hurt you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 

“I'm alright.” You reassure him, mind wandering back, “They call themselves the Lemoyne Raiders, just make sure everyone knows to keep an eye out.” You say as Arthur pushes the horses closer to home. 

Wild boar squeal, running in all directions as Arthur speeds through the meadows, trying to get home. You reach into your pocket, pulling out the cash you’d stolen. You count the bills, eyebrows popping up. 

“We made fifty bucks." You hum, counting out twenty five and handing it back to her. Arthur does a double take, looking back to see you going through the money. 

“Aw, hell. What did you two do? How did you get that?” Arthur mumbles, sighing as you chuckle. 

“Star here has quite the talent when it comes to pickin’ unsuspecting pockets.” Sadie laughs as the wagon pulls through the trees. 

Arthur looks over at you sighing. 

"Dutch said no trouble." He huffs, and you dangle the platinum pocket watch from your hand, showing it to him. 

"He said no guns." You correct, "and I didn't use any guns." 

"Don't mention this to Dutch. We just get the supplies back and that's that." Arthur orders, softening his tongue as he looks over his shoulder, "You two handled yourselves well today." 

You glance back at Sadie with a smirk, proud of yourself and her. Your intuition was right, she can handle herself just fine, and she'll make a nice addition to the working members of the gang. You look forward to riding out with her in the future. 

"Don't you worry, our lips are sealed." Sadie huffs, rolling her eyes lightly. 

Arthur pulls the wagon through the trees towards Clemens Point, slowing down as he enters camp. He pulls the wagon near Pearson's table, and a few of the boys come to help unload it. 

“I’ll see you around.” You smile at Sadie, and she tips her hat to you before jumping down from the wagon.

"Star, take the horses." Arthur calls to you, untying them from the wagon before handing you their reins. You take the reins of the two bay Shires, noting the white sweat that clings to their fur and the hot, heavy breaths that they take. Arthur had really pushed them to get back quickly, leaving them tired and sore. The horses walk with you, whinnying and nudging your pockets for treats as you take them to the hitching posts. 

It doesn't take long for you to hitch them and grab two pails of water from the lake. You place the buckets down, glancing to where Arthur stands in the wagon, handing boxes down to Charles on the ground. You watch for a moment, distracted by the way his muscles flex under his shirt. He smiles, laughing at something one of the boys said and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You pick up the metal pail of water, pouring it over the stallions back. The water cascades down, washing away the sweat and cooling down the shire. You shake your head, pulling your eyes away from Arthur to focus on the horses. 

You're not sure what's gotten into you but he's so distracting, you can't take it. He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up, exposing his thick, muscular forearms as he wipes some sweat from his brow. You burn as your eyes watch his suspenders flex and move with his shoulders, and you curse yourself for being so filthy.

You can't help it. It's been a week since he's touched you. With the move and everything going on in camp, there's been no time for it. 

You quickly pour water over the second shire horse, making sure that her breathing has calmed back down. Her nostrils are no longer flared, and all the puffy white sweat has been washed from her sides. You double check that there is hay and water in their trough before patting both horses and walking back into camp. 

Arthur jumps down from the wagon as you approach, adjusting his hat with a smile. 

"Horses okay?" Arthur asks, hoping that he hadn't pushed them too hard. You nod, walking towards your tent, subconsciously leading him there. 

"Yeah, they're just fine. Gave them some water n' got them cooled down." You say, gripping Arthur’s  arm. 

“We have some time, right?” You ask, watching as Arthur’s eyebrows pull together and he pulls his pocket watch from his vest. He glances at the time before putting the fine watch back. 

“A little, why?” He asks, and you grip his arm impossibly tighter, pulling him through the canvas to your tent. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Arthur asks, worried until the canvas falls shut and you wrap your arms around his neck. Coyly, you pull him down to you, and his hands find your waist as you kiss him. A shiver runs down your spine, and you chase after the feelings he gives you as you moan into his mouth. 

“I’ve missed you, we’ve been so busy.” You explain, pulling away from his lips to speak. You’re breathless as you expose your neck, and he begins kissing the soft skin just under your jaw. 

“Missed you too.” He echoes, knowing exactly what you mean. It’s been too long since you’ve had each other like this.

"I'm supposed to be leavin' soon. I'm goin' fishin' with Hosea and Dutch." Arthur says, but his hands don't stop yours from unbuttoning his shirt, and his lips are still kissing your neck between words. 

"We'll be quick then." You murmur, tugging his shirt out of his jeans to reach the last few buttons. You pop them open, shoving his shirt to the ground before running your hands up the expanse of his chest.

And then his lips are on yours again, kissing you messily, quickly, as he rushes to pull your shirt off. You're short on time and it's been a week since he's touched you like this. You've both been too busy during the day, and exhausted during the night, but now you have a sliver of time and you'll be damned if it goes to waste. 

Arthur’s arms scoop under your thighs as he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your breaths turn to needy whimpers as he carries you towards the bed, lips never breaking contact on your skin. 

“What if someone hears?” You whisper as his lips kiss the fading dark spots on your collarbone. 

"No one will hear, we'll be quiet." He murmurs against your skin, nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You chuckle, feeling like a damn schoolgirl. 

Your smile falls quickly when three loud knocks sound out on the beam of your tent. 

"Star?" Hosea calls through the thin piece of canvas, just a step away from the scene you're making. 

Your skin turns pale as Arthur's lips pull away from your skin and immediately he loosens his grip on your thighs, letting you slide back down to the ground. Arthur quickly grabs his previously abandoned shirt from the ground, throwing it over his shoulders, unbuttoned, just as Hosea pulls the canvas to the side

"Dear girl, we're going fishing. I wanted to invite you–" Hosea starts, stopping in his tracks upon seeing Arthur in your tent. His eyes scan over the situation, and he sighs. 

"Arthur, get out." He calls to Arthur, "Get dressed and get out." 

Your cheeks burn red, feeling as if you're being scolded by a father for your carelessness. Arthur quickly starts dressing up the buttons to his shirt as you toy with your fingers. 

"You two are damn lucky it was just me coming in. There's things that need done, so save your foolin' around for later." Hosea bites, turning his attention to Arthur then, "Now, we are going fishing. Star, you can join us if you like, but you better be at the hitching posts in five minutes… and clean up, both of you." He snaps.

"Goddamn children." He whispers under his breath, shaking his head as he pulls the canvas shut behind him and heads off towards his own tent to grab his pole. You glance up to Arthur with a fierce blush on your face, still catching up from what's just happened

"Did we just… get caught?" You huff, not imagining that you'd ever be caught in the act at this point in your life. You're no teenager, but you sure as shit feel like one now.

"Red handed, darlin'." Arthur chuckles, hands undoing his belt just enough to tuck his shirt back into his jeans. You watch as he gets dressed, fixing the little pieces of his outfit that you've just worked so hard to undo. 

"You coming then…? Fishing?" Arthur asks, and you nod. 

"Might as well." You sigh, disappointed that your moment has been taken from you. 

“Hey,” Arthur calls, seeing the downcast look on your face. He grips your hand, pulling you to his chest, “Later, okay?” 

“Mhm.” You hum, a smile stretching across your face as he leans down to kiss you one more time. You lean up into him, pressing your lips to his before giving him entrance to your mouth. Arthur groans, wishing he had more time with you.

“C’mon then.” Arthur grumbles, pulling away from you. It’s clear that he’s going to be in a sour mood for the rest of the day thanks to Hosea, but you’ll try and cheer him up. You adjust your gun belt, blushing as you step outside the tent. You’re sure that someone heard Hosea’s scolding, but no one acknowledges it as you step out of your tent with Arthur. Dutch steps out of his tent as well, falling into step in front of you and Arthur.

“Are you joining us on this fine evening of fishing?” Dutch asks, neck craning to the side to speak to you. You nod. 

"It seems I am, though I never actually fished before. I went along once but… that time didn't turn out so good." You sigh, remembering the fishing trip with Jack back before everything happened. The Pinkertons had shown up, threatened you all, the train had happened, the massacre in Valentine, and here you are. 

"Well Hosea is a fine fisherman. He taught me everything I know about sinking worms. Arthur here, well he lacks skill and finesse, but we'll talk more on that later– I've got plenty of stories." Dutch chuckles deeply, hands resting on his gun belt as he leads you towards the hitching posts. 

"Great." Arthur sarcastically grumbles, looking up to where Hosea mixes herbs for his cough. 

"Hey old girl! Why don't you show us this creek you've been pissin' in?" Dutch hollers up, smiling brightly at Hosea. Hosea looks up, coughing lightly before abandoning his mixture and standing to meet you all. 

"Were they always like this?" You ask, chuckling at Dutch's pet name for Hosea. 

"It's gettin worse with old age." Arthur mumbles under his breath, hand on the small of your back as he leads to you the horses. 

"You don't look too rosy, old friend." Dutch says to Hosea as he mounts onto his white Arabian. The skittish horse swishes his tail nervously as Dutch adjusts in his saddle, gripping the reins tightly. 

"I'm afraid my days of lookin' good are long over." Hosea chuckles, coughing. It's a raspy sound, deep in his chest. You frown as you approach Athena, looking into her blue, sparkling eyes. 

"Hey there, girl." You coo, petting her neck. Arthur watches your interaction fondly, hiding a smile from behind Balius. 

"I know a good spot, up north along the bank." Hosea explains, groaning as he mounts up onto Silver Dollar. You and Arthur both climb into your saddles, and you fall into the back of a square formation. Dutch and Hosea rode side by side ahead of you while you and Arthur ride together behind them. 

"Why don't we just fish here?" Arthur asks, "We got a whole lake of 'em."

"Because I need to get out for a bit." Dutch's booming voice hollers back to you. You know exactly how he feels, and you're glad to be back out after being stuck in camp for so long.

"Me too." You hum, squeezing Athena into a canter behind Dutch and Hosea. They veer out of the trees, following the orange tinted roads towards Hosea's spot. 

"It's good to have the old guard together." Dutch calls out, a smile on his lips, "Just the three of us, like the old days– except for the addition of the beautiful Ms. Star."

You can feel Arthur's grip tighten on his reins, seeing the way his shoulders tense, but he keeps quiet. Dutch knows he's crossed another boundary, but he enjoys the rush. You roll your eyes as everyone keeps riding on. 

"Does Molly know you're callin' other women beautiful?" You bite, getting sick and tired of Dutch's games. He has no problem admitting that you're attractive, and yet he has no faith in you, and believes you to be the reason that the Pinkertons are on your tail. He's a messed up bastard, and you watch as he laughs boisterously. 

"What Molly doesn't know won't hurt her." Dutch says, and you look to Arthur with a shocked expression. Arthur looks like he wants to say something, and he opens his mouth to make a comment, but Hosea changes the topic before the conversation can continue to deteriorate.

"You did good finding this place, Arthur." Hosea calls back, thankfully changing the subject.

"It was more Star than me." Arthur explains, reaching into his satchel to pull out an oatcake. He extends his hand down to Balius, giving the shire horse a little snack for his work.

“It’s a good spot. I feel like I can breathe again, thick and soupy as this air is.” Dutch calls back, “Might even do your whistling pipes some good, Hosea.”

Hosea glances up at the sky, sighing as a bittersweet look crosses his face. He seems to be lost in a memory, and you watch on curiously until he speaks up. 

“I was once in this country with Bessie… Oh, it feels like a lifetime ago, now.” Hosea says. Dutch ignores the older man’s hurt, moving the topic forward. It must be hurtful, you think, to be run over by someone who used to be so close to you.  You can only imagine what Hosea and Arthur must be going through, watching Dutch slowly descend. Arthur won’t even admit it to himself, still too caught up in the past. It’ll take time, and you pity Arthur for the day he realizes. 

“It was a lifetime ago. But what a life we have lived, how we have fought.” Dutch’s eyes grow dark as he canters on, getting lost in his head, “But now, when we are desperate… we must stick to the plan.”

You roll your eyes. All Dutch ever talks about is his goddamn plan, but you’ve never even heard  it. 

“What exactly is your plan, Dutch?” You snap. His shoulders tighten at your attitude, but he doesn’t turn around to look at you. After a few moments, he finally speaks up. 

“My plan is to make money, and then escape somewhere that nobody will find us.” Dutch grits through a clenched jaw. You want to ask how in the hell that’s a good plan. ‘Make money and leave’ is extremely vague, and you’re not so sure that making money is such a good idea right now with how the past jobs have gone. You open your mouth to question him further, but Arthur sidepasses Balius closer to you and touches your thigh. The brush from his fingers pulls you back, and startled, you glance over to him. Arthur shakes his head no, signaling you to drop it. You want to protest, but he mouths the word ‘no’, sternly. 

Your face falls into a scowl as you continue on. You have to merge into single file as a wagon passes by, and you fall into the back of the line. You make a note to ask Arthur about it later. It bugs you that he asked you to stop. You have every right to question Dutch’s decisions when they directly affect your life, and the lives of your family. 

“These goddamn fools.” You whisper to Athena, leaning down to pet her neck. She tosses her head, seemingly agreeing with you. As you continue, Dutch slows The Count down to a trot. You move back up beside Arthur, watching as a train passes by and blocks the road. You’ll have to wait for it to pass. There is one wagon waiting at the crossroads, and you squint at it, noticing the metal bars that form a cell on the back of it.

“Law up ahead, play it cool.” Dutch says back to you all, tone hushed compared to his earlier bravado. You pull Athena back to a walk as you approach the wagon. There's a few people in the back, and you squint to see as you get closer and closer. 

“Hello gentleman, miss.” A voice calls meekly from the wagon cell. It's a familiar, accented voice, and when you search the wagon again you see Josiah Trelawny handcuffed in the cell amongst a group of other men. Your eyes go wide, and you sidepass Athena to lightly smack Arthur’s arm and get his attention. 

Everyone realizes the predicament, and Dutch glances back to you all before walking The Count up to the front of the wagon. There's two lawmen sitting on the drivers bench, and Dutch tips his hat to them.

“How are you boys?” Dutch asks, playing up his charisma. The man in the driver's spot has bloodshot eyes and a massive mustache. His blonde hair matches his pale face, and he seems a bit shaky in his arms. The man next to him is a bit younger, clean shaven with dark brown hair and a bowlers hat.

“We’re fine.” The driver exchanges, not feeding into whatever he believes Dutch to be inquiring about. Dutch isn’t about to walk away, and he is not about to be ignored again. So, he plays up his charisma again, picking an angle. 

“Some beautiful country you folks have here.” Dutch compliments, and this time the driver glances over to Dutch. He eyes him up and down quickly before looking back to the train ahead.

“We like it well enough.” The man says, still partially ignoring Dutch. Dutch smiles brightly, holding his hand up to his chest as he introduces himself. 

“Hoagy Macintosh, at your service.” Dutch introduces himself. You hold your hand over your mouth to hide your smirk as you snort a laugh, and Arthur lightly chastises you with a glare. You can see the smirk on his lips though, and you know he’s trying to hold back laughter just as much as you are. Hoagy Macintosh finally gets the lawman to open up and introduce himself and his deputy. 

“Leigh Gray, and this is my deputy, Archibald McGregor.” The sheriff introduces. Dutch smiles ear to ear, extending his hand up to shake the sheriffs. You almost laugh at the situation. A crook, wanted in three states, shaking the hand of the sheriff. 

“You a Scot?” Sheriff Gray asks, and Dutch grins. You’re growing bored of their banter, wishing you could just shoot the lock and run off with Trelawny instead of all this dancing around. 

“Partly,” Dutch leans in as if he’s about to tell some inside joke, “the best part.”

Your eyes roll back into your head again as you wait for the damn theatrics to end. 

“Can’t we just shoot the lock?” You whisper over to Arthur. He readjusts in his saddle, looking over at your impatience. 

“No. Just a few more minutes. Dutch has this.” Arthur whispers back to you. You watch on as the show continues, foot tapping against your stirrup. Even Athena is getting tired of standing, pawing at the ground in annoyance. Finally the train begins to move, going east.

“Tell me, sir, what did that silly, fancy fop back there do?” Dutch asks, pointing back at Trelawny. 

The conversation continues on for a while as you watch the prisoners in the back. Josiah is pressed tightly up against the cell like a cornered cat as the other, much bigger, men work on unlocking the door. One of them is picking the lock with something, cursing lightly as he fumbles with his wrists outstretched from the bars. 

“Uh… Arthur? Hosea?” You whisper, nodding towards the wagon door just as it swings open. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Trelawny yells, extending his hand out from the wagon before pulling it back. He makes no move to escape as the three blonde haired men file out, pushing past Josiah and running towards the train. Trelawny gets the attention of the sheriff, who turns around and realizes that his convicts are escaping. 

“Shit! The Anderson boys! I can’t have more scandal!” Sheriff Gray yells, jumping down from the wagon. He takes his hat off, squeezing the felt between his hands as he tries to figure out a plan, watching as the Anderson boys all leap onto the caboose one at a time, pulling each other up.

“Well, allow us to help! Arthur, Star, take Archibald and go on.” Dutch orders. 

Archibald leaps down from the wagon, running up towards Athena. 

“Go on his horse! She don’t like men!” You yell to Archibald as Athena pins her ears and rears up lightly. The deputy runs towards Balius as you push Athena forward after the train. She was bred to race, and it doesn’t take long for you to catch up with the train. Her strides are long as she stretches them out in a gallop. You turn in your saddle to see Arthur a ways behind you. Poor big Balius was not made to run. 

“Jump up there, miss! This man rides like my grandma!” Archibald yells up and you laugh over all the noise as Arthur bites some comeback.

The train goes over a small bridge, and you run through the valley as you chase alongside it. There's a man running over the top of the train that you keep your eye on. When you reach the plains, and have a straight shot to jump, you slip your feet out of your stirrups and stand up in your saddle. It's difficult to balance, and you focus on not looking down as you leap onto the train. You land on a flat car, rolling as you hit the wood. You barely have time to stand up before a man knocks you back to the ground. He hits you like a brick wall, knocking you flat on your back as the train pushes forwards. 

You cross your arms over your face, blocking his swings until you find an opening. He falters for just a moment, and you knee him straight in the groin. The man screams out in pain, grabbing at his jeans as he falls down. You scramble up, kicking the toe of your boot straight to the man's forehead and knocking him out. 

You spin around as Arthur leaps from Balius and lands on the same cart as you. 

“I need Anders Anderson, he’s in the back!” Archibald yells, sliding up into the saddle, “I’m gonna go stop the train!” And then he takes off, galloping forward.

You extend your hand down to Arthur, helping him stand up as much as you can. 

“You okay?” Arthur asks as he stands. 

“I’m fine, let's go get this bastard.” You remark.

Arthur leads the way, running down the moving train car. It makes you dizzy, and bile rises in your throat that you force back down. Arthur leaps, grabbing the top of the next train car and pulling himself up. It takes everything in you to jump and reach the top, and your hand just barely grips the roof of the rail car before Arthur grabs it.

“Thank y–” You begin, cutting yourself off with a gasp as a man jumps up from the other side of the train and grapples Arthur. The man knocks him to the ground on his back, and Arthur’s head dangles over the side of the accelerating train.  You’re left to pull yourself up, and your arms strain painfully as you struggle to reach the top. Arthur’s hat falls off, plummeting down to the ground as the bastard wraps his big hands around Arthur’s neck and begins to squeeze the oxygen from his lungs. The panic of seeing Arthur struggle gives you enough adrenaline to pull yourself up. As soon as you’re on your feet, you grab him by the backs of his cotton suspenders and pull him back as hard as you can with a growl. He falls backwards off of Arthur, and rolls right off of the train. 

“Jesus.” Arthur coughs, clearing his throat as he watches the criminal fall and hit the ground. You peer over the side of the train, a shocked look on your face. 

“He should be fine.” You hum, snickering before you start jogging down the length of the rail car. Arthur is quick behind you with a smile on his lips. 

“Besides the broken ribs, sure!” He chuckles, playing up that famous Arthur Morgan sarcasm that you’ve grown so fond of. 

There's only one more car between you and Anders, and you jump to it, landing on your feet with a grunt as you push yourself to keep running. You glance up to the engine car, finding Archibald as he jumps from Balius onto the platform. 

At the top of the train car is another man, the only thing separating you from their leader. 

“I got this bastard!” Arthur yells, running past you to tackle the dark haired jailbreaker. Arthur’s fists immediately dig into the man’s ribs. Blood spatters as Arthur gives hard hits and blocks his face. He does a lot more damage than he takes. You watch them brawl, focusing on anything but the train's movement until Arthur pulls the bastard to the side of the roof and you can run past. The last car is some sort of meat cooler, and you jump down from the roof, landing ungracefully with a curse. 

“They sent a goddamn lady after me!” Anders laughs out loud, and your blood boils as you look up at him. His long blonde hair is pulled into a low ponytail, and his crystal blue eyes are cold and emotionless. He reminds you of Micah, and you grind your teeth, readying your fists for the beating they’re about to give.

 “You best turn around little girl… I ain’t goin’ back there without a fight.” Anders snarls. You take a few slow steps through the threshold, and then stumble slightly as the train screeches to a stop. Archibald must have gotten to the brakes. You hear Arthur’s blows landing behind you as you squint at the gang leader ahead of you. 

“Try me.” You bite. Anderson steps forward with every intention of knocking you out cold,  but he is too large and unagile for his own good. His movements are more sluggish than yours, and you have plenty of time to block his hit. He aims for a right hook to your cheek, but you pop your forearm up, blocking the hit as your right arm swings up into his gut. Anderson leans over with a groan, surprised by the force of your hit before he shakes it off. 

“Don’t kill him!” Archibald yells from outside. He distracts you, and Anderson lands a hard blow to your ribs. You hiss in pain, eyes flash dark at the man before you. 

“Why not?” You bark to Archibald, watching Anders sneer. Arthur is still fighting behind you, and when you hear a body fall from the train you instinctively panic and turn around. Relief floods your mind when you see Arthur wiping dirt on his jeans, spitting some blood down to the ground. He’s okay, and won the fight. 

“Star!” Arthur yells, eyes going wide. Your panic has completely sidetracked you and by the time you turn back around to Anders, it's nearly too late. “Star, he's got a knife!” Arthur yells, eyes wide as saucepans. 

Anders rams into you, knocking you flat on your back. He straddles your waist, shoving the knife down towards your throat as you fight against him. You yell out, fighting against his hands as the knife nearly knicks your throat. He's pushing it down with everything he can muster, just as you fight back. 

“Arthur!” You grit out through clenched teeth, begging for help as you fight for your life. Your legs kick out from under you as you attempt to get him off you. A big brown steel toed boot kicks directly into Anders’ head, knocking him out cold. 

“Goddamn bastard!” Arthur growls from above you as the knife clatters to the ground. You lay on the ground for a moment, catching your breath as you splay out. 

“You alright?” Arthur asks, kneeling to the ground beside you. His warm hands find your shoulders as he encourages you to sit up. 

“Fine. You?” You ask, wincing at the pain in your ribs. 

Arthur smiles. Even now, you’re always dismissing your own pain, too busy worrying about everyone else's. 

“Oh, I'm just fine, don’t you worry about me.” Arthur hums, taking your hands and looking at your bloodied knuckles. 

“I’ll patch these up as soon as we get home.” Arthur hums, more to himself than you. He knows that if he doesn’t, you won’t. He looks over your knuckles with a small frown, hoping that they don’t hurt as badly as they appear to. He saw you take a punch in the gut too, and he makes a note to check on it later. 

“You fought well.” He praises, and you smirk at the compliment. Then with a groan, he stands up, pulling you with him by your hand. Arthur leans down to pick up Anders, slinging him over his shoulder as if he’s only a sack of potatoes.

You exit the meat cart, walking down the two steps before jumping down into the dirt. Archibald is waiting there with your horses and a satisfied look on his face. 

“Go ahead and put him on your horse there and then we’ll head to Rhodes.” Archibald remarks, whistling for his own horse. 

“Great. Back to Rhodes.” You groan as Arthur throws Anders over Balius’s croup. 

“Hang on, I gotta go find my goddamn hat.” Arthur grumbles as everyone mounts up.

It’s not a long ride, but it sure as shit feels like one. Archibald doesn’t shut up the entire way there, and the only thing keeping you mildly entertained is Arthur’s thinning patience. The deputy explains some old feud that the entire town is wrapped up in– the Grays and the Braithwaites. One stole from the other, or something of the like, but it was so long ago that nobody really knows what happened. The hatred has been passed down through generations, and apparently everyone in Rhodes has picked a side. It makes your head hurt, thinking about the foolishness of the whole ordeal. By the time you arrive at the jail, you’re basically half slid out of your saddle, ready to hop down and get it over with. Dutch is waiting with Sheriff Gray outside the jailhouse, and Trelawny and Hosea are chatting. 

“There they are! I told you, these folks have a passion for justice. Dutch chuckles, patting Sheriff Gray on the back. Archibald takes Anders from Balius, parting through the group to take him into the jailhouse. 

“Thank you folks, your friend here is free to go.” Sheriff Gray responds, and now that you’re close, you can see the dark purple lines under his eyes. You can smell the alcohol on his lips and your lip turns up slightly. Sheriff Gray turns to Dutch, extending his hand out to shake. 

“Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” Dutch smiles, playing up his charisma. You’re not sure what his angle is, but you know he's seeping through the cracks of Rhodes, slithering like a snake to find any tips he can get. 

“Mr. Macintosh, it has been a real pleasure.” The Sheriff says as the two shake hands. You place your hand over your mouth, hiding the smirk at his stupid fake name. Arthur smirks, unable to hide his smile from the way you struggle to contain your own. 

“Ah, ah, my friend, call me Hoagy.” Dutch corrects, and you turn around to hide your face as a small snort leaves your lips. Arthur would chastise anyone else for it, but he can’t bring himself to be mad at you, especially not when Dutch is making it so difficult.

“Rhodes welcomes you all. And thank you for getting Anders back.” Sheriff Gray addresses you, and you turn back to nod at him. He turns back around, walking towards a boy who is sitting outside. He shoos him in the jailhouse, and you watch for an extended moment as he chastises his son, you assume. 

“Beau, these better be ugly rumors! I heard you were seen with that wretched Braithewaite girl.” He calls, and your eyebrows pop up as you glance back at the group. Trelawny and Hosea regroup, and you all begin walking down the main road. 

“Where you been?” Arthur asks Trelawny, striking a match against his box before lighting a cigarette between his lips. A veteran without a leg, standing on a crutch, is begging for money outside the general store. Passing by, uninterested in the conversation ahead of you, you stop to place a few dollars into his hat. He thanks you, and you smile before rejoining the group.

“I've been renting a caravan behind the church. It's awful, but no one comes looking.” Trelawny chimes, and you snicker. 

“Apparently someone came looking, locked up as you were.” You point out as everyone begins escorting Trelawny back home. 

“I heard about your bounties… makes mine look like nothing but a penny.” Trelawny remarks back. Your anxiety picks up at the thought, and you look up to Arthur, holding your hand out in a silent question. He hands you his cigarette, and you take a drag from it before handing it back. Smoke fills your lungs, and when you release it, some of the anxiety floats away as well. 

“It’ll take them months to find us down here.” Dutch counters, confident in his leadership decisions. You’re not entirely sure if he's right on that account or not. 

“Well, they’re good bounties…” Trelawny adds, and you hear the trepidation in his voice, the nervousness hinting that they’re tighter on your tails than you’d originally thought, “And Miss Star, you’ve become quite the news topic. You’re a real point of conversation in the West.” 

Your blood runs cold as your stomach flips, and you try to comprehend what he’s said, and how he means. Even Arthur tenses at the admission. 

“A lady outlaw– they’ve conjectured quite the story about you.” He adds, and you take a few quick steps to catch up to him. 

“Where did you hear all this?” Dutch growls. Whether he’s mad at you, Trelawny, or the situation, you’re not sure. 

“A group of fellers near the state line. They said there was talk of it in bars five hundred miles to the west. There was talk of super agents.” 

Dutch laughs at that, and some of his bite falls away, “Super agents, huh? It’s just talk.”

You’re not so sure. After mixing with Cornwall back in Blackwater, robbing his trains and wagons ever since, and killing half his men in Valentine, you wouldn’t be surprised if he did hire some super agents. 

“I’m sure, but I had to tell you.” Trelawny defends, just as nervous as you. 

You approach the caravan in which he’s staying, and he walks on a few steps as you all stop. He turns to you, bowing for show. 

“Adieu.” He remarks, before walking back towards his rental. You and Arthur share a worried glance as Dutch and Hosea turn back, whistling for their horses. Stories aren’t good– talk isn’t good, and right now the attention seems to be on you. Arthur doesn’t like it one bit. 

“Arthur, Star, poke around the Braithewaite’s place. Hosea, see what you can find out about the Grays.” Dutch orders as your four horses trot towards you together.

“Sure.” You hum, watching as Arthur tosses his spent cigarette onto the grass. The sun is beginning to set, and it casts Rhodes in an orange light as you mount up onto Athena. 

“Some fishin’ trip.” Arthur mumbles, sore in the jaw from his earlier brawl.

Dutch, adjusting in his saddle, turns back to the three of you. 

“There’s still time. I’m up for it if you two aren’t burned out from your merry chase.” Dutch says, gripping his reins tightly as The Count paces. 

“Sure, why not?” You hum, knowing that Arthur’s been looking forward to the trip for a while, “Hosea take us to that spot you’re fond of.” 

“Let's see if we can avoid any more excitement.” Hosea chuckles before leading the way on Silver Dollar. You follow, leaning back in your saddle to prepare for the long ride. 

— — — —

Hosea's spot isn’t too far away, but it feels like it with the way your ribs ache. He leads you up north a ways, past Clemens Point up near the state line. 

“Just down here to the left.” Hosea says, leading you down the bank to the lakeshore. The sun casts a golden glow over the water as you approach a decent sized boat along the lapping water. 

“I’m sure no one will mind if we borrow one of these, c’mon.” Hosea hums, stretching after he dismounts his stallion. Everyone follows suit, walking towards the boat. 

“Madam.” Arthur hums, holding your hand as you step into the boat. You blush, still getting butterflies from the outlaw. 

He, Hosea and Dutch all push the boat into the water, jumping in one by one. Hosea rests at the front of the boat on the same bench as you the while Arthur sits in the middle and Dutch in the back. Arthur picks up the oars, watching you in the golden light as he begins to row. 

“I’ll row since you’re too old for real labor no more.” Arthur jokes. 

“And you’re too dumb for anything else.” Hosea quips, and Arthur laughs loudly as you smack Hosea lightly on the knee. 

“You’re still too quick for me, old man.” Arthur chuckles, rowing the boat out into the middle of the lake. 

“I enjoy picking on children.” Hosea hums, and Arthur huffs, pointing at you. 

“You don’t pick on her.” He points out. 

“No, I applaud her for putting up with you.” Hosea jokes, and Dutch laughs from the back of the boat. You shoot Arthur an apologetic look for the snicker that leaves your lips. The boys continue chuckling as Arthur rows the boat to a decent spot in the center of the lake. You remain seated as they stand, pulling out their fishing rods. 

“You don’t know how to fish, huh?” Arthur asks, and when you shake your head, he extends his hand out to you, “C’mere. I’ll show you.” 

You take his hand, soaking up the way it envelopes yours so wholly. He pulls you up, situating you in front of him with your back to his chest. Hosea watches on fondly, thinking of Bessie as Arthur places his fishing rod in front of you. His arms are around your shoulders, holding your hands over the rod. 

“Let’s hope for stupid fish and good luck.” Hosea hums, casting out as does Dutch. Arthur has some fancy lure attached to his rod. It’s colorful and you look at it curiously.

“Couldn’t we have just used a worm?” You ask as Arthur adjusts his feet at shoulders width apart behind you. 

“No, you’d have to be real lucky to catch a sturgeon or a bass with a worm.” Arthur hums, his chest rumbling at your back. 

If either Hosea or especially Dutch think anything odd of your position with Arthur, no one says anything. Hosea knows about your relationship. And Dutch? He suspects well enough.

“Alright, pull back just like this,” Arthur mumbles, helping you pull the rod back, “then release.” 

You let go of the string, sending the reel out a decent ways. Arthur smiles, letting you go so that you can hold it on your own.

“There you have it, now just wait for a bite.” 

It grows quiet save for the sound of sloshing water and the boat creaking. Dutch is the first to catch a fish, and when he unhooks the bass, a fond memory crosses his mind. 

“Star, you’ll like this story. Hosea, remember that time we sent Arthr out fishing? He brought back three beautiful bass.” Dutch remarks, and your attention flickers to him as you hold the rod steady. 

“Not this again.” Arthur sighs, and you turn around with your eyebrows pulled together and a smile on your lips. You know exactly what's about to happen– Dutch is going to pour out some good old fashioned embarrassment.

“I don’t remember.” Hosea hums, thinking back to where Dutch may be going with the story. 

“Oh yeah you do. He was younger, probably Star’s age, walked in all full of himself. We ate a big meal, toasted him all night.” Dutch continues with a smile as Hosea reels in a sturgeon. 

“This was fifteen years ago.” Arthur defends, watching as your line pulls tight. 

“Oh I remember now!” Hosea chuckles. Arthur comes forward, standing at your back again as he helps you reel in. The fish fights against you, and when you struggle to pull, Arthur’s hands line your and he assists. 

“The next week Arthur and I are at the market, the fishmonger calls out ‘So how’d you like those bass I sold you?’” 

Everyone except for Arthur laughs boisterously. You can picture it so clearly, him young and wanting to impress them. It's cute, though Arthur will never admit it.

“Listen. You can go fishin’, or you can go drinkin’ all day, rob someone and buy some fish.” He defends again as you both pull up a nice sized bass. Arthur unhooks the fish, tucking it into a bag in his satchel before helping you toss your line out again. 

“We might wanna swim to shore, darlin’.” Arthur jokes on account of being the source of entertainment. You chuckle, watching the ripples under the water as Hosea pulls up another fish. 

“No, I’m enjoyin’ this. Tell me more.” You smile. Though you hadn’t expected to, you’re having a good time. And Dutch seems to be on his best behavior as Hosea comes up with another story. 

“Remember when I caught those salmon? We had a banquet planned until Copper went and scoffed the lot.” Hosea scoffs, amused. 

“You never had control of that dog, Arthur.” Dutch chimes, hooking a fish

“Copper?” You ask, not remembering if you’ve heard the name before. Just as you ask, another fish bites, and Arthur helps you to start reeling it in. 

“Oh, my old dog. He was a good boy, had some spirit in him, that's for sure. Never lost the pup in him, not even in the end.” Arthur hums, a crestfallen look on his face. 

“I remember the day when we found you in the mud.” Dutch says, a smile on his lips at the old, fond memory, “Remember, Hosea?”

“How could I forget?” Hosea chimes. Arthur grows quiet, helping you reel in and unhook the fish. 

“You were so angry, full of rage and fear.” Dutch remarks, “You’ve grown, son.”

Arthur nods, hands tightening around your own. He's never been good at taking compliments, and that's not changing now. The four of you continue fishing as Hosea tells stories of old trips he’s gone on, and Dutch remarks about old steals. You learn a lot about Arthur, finding out that he’s always had a heart for animals, and that he used to be an awful shot. You also find out about how he tortured John upon his arrival, but would sneak him cigarettes and whiskey behind Dutch’s back. The boys tell you old stories until the sun sets and your bags are too full of fish to stuff them any more. You begin to drift off at Arthur’s chest , swaying back on your feet until his warm chest catches your back. 

"Easy there." He chuckles, low so that only you can hear. 

“I reckon it’s time we head back.” Arthur says, breaking down his fishing rod as you stir yourself back awake. 

"Already?" Dutch asks even though it's getting dark. 

"You ain't been chasin' outlaws." Arthur huffs as you sit down on the bench beside him. Dutch takes over rowing this time around, and you rest against Arthur's side as the lake air grows cold and the night falls to darkness. 

— — — —

They sing a song about mariners the whole trip back. You all opted to steal the boat, as it's quicker to row back to camp than it is to ride. And by the time you make it back, you're exhausted. Arthur helps you out of the boat, and you thank Dutch and Hosea before heading towards Pearson's table to drop off the fish with him. 

"You go on and get ready for bed, I'll meet you there." Arthur hums, holding his satchel in his hand. You nod, squeezing his free hand lightly before making your way to your tent. It takes you only moments to dress down, and the relief that fills you upon hitting the mattress is instant. You struggle to keep your eyes open, but you try your damndest to stay up for when Arthur comes in. The long day has left you tired, and even though Arthur promised you that he'd spend the night up with you, you both know you're too tired. 

Eventually, as your eyes flutter open and closed, Arthur parts the tent canvas and strides in. 

"Didn't have to stay up for me." Arthur coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair. 

"I wanted to." You counter, eyes slipping shut. 

"Scooch over, I'm comin' in." Arthur whispers, and you feel the bed dip as he slides in beside you. 

It was a good, busy, day. One filled with outlaws and robberies, theft and simple fishing. You look forward to working with Sadie again, and you worry over Micah's return alongside working with the Braithewaite's. 

But none of it matters now. Now you're safe, cuddled up to bed with Arthur, and everything seems like it's going to be okay. 

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt

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

[bethncherry]

update: hello frens! its been a bit since i’ve uploaded any beth n cherry and im sorry for being MIA! im trying to carve some time to focus on the comic again because my heart ACHES for these girls rn. they’ve got cabin fever stuck in my head lol

i had a busy summer, moved from my apartment at the end of summer nd worked in the fall to get stuff done, and then pushed to make my own 2024 calendar and got em printed! :D i travelled to the states to visit my fiance for 3 weeks and im back home and settled now

all that is to say i’m going to work on beth n cherry again and i’ll let you know when i have a bit of a backlog and when to expect more pages :3 thank you always 💖🍒🌾

#update on the comic and life #ive been thinking about them almost daily tbh #also i watched the first 3 eps of the scott pilgrim anime and it makes me want to do beth n cherry so bad like the colours and the style UGH #LOVE #anyways #thank you for sticking around < 3

[boliv-jenta]

Joel Miller x f!reader. No age gap. Reader is in her 50's too.

Warnings: bad language, smut, P in V sex. Voyeurism?

WC:2.2k in total.

I had an idea about Joel and reader being stuck listening to a young couple having sex while protecting them. I couldn't decide which way to write it, so I wrote five different versions.

Cabin Fever

"We're good. We're safe here. You take the bedroom upstairs. We'll stay down here." Joel settled in your temporary house guests. 

The cabin was a fair size and pretty well fortified. The Jackson patrols used it often if they had any doubts about making it the last leg home before nightfall. The infected didn't usually bother making the climb this far so it was a good place to hold up for the night.

The young couple that you and Joel picked up had been on the far end of the patrol perimeter. Just where the snow was beginning to thaw. A few stray infected had cornered them. Luckily, you and Joel had been there to bring them to safety. The young couple thanked you both again before heading upstairs. About fifteen minutes later the unmistakable sounds of sex filled the air above you and Joel. Joel grumbled before turning over and going asleep. His body next to you provided some warmth as usual but not as much as you would like....

#1

"Jesus. Are they at it again?" Joel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. The wafer thin mattress shifted under him as he turned to face you, knowing that wouldn't be sleeping through that racket.

"More like 'at it still'. They never stopped." A smirk ghosted your lips. "Oh to be young and in love."

"We're young." Joel shot at you.

"Tell that to my back."

"Your back is better than my knees."

The rhythmic shifting of the furniture above you sped up. Joel cleared his throat. "They know we're down here. You think they'd show their elders some respect."

"Oh, come on." You nudged him with your shoulder. "They nearly died. They're happy to be alive. They're celebrating life."

"I don't mind them celebrating. I just wish they'd do it a little quieter." He grunted turning onto his side and nestling further into his folded pillow.

"Quieter? Are you one of those people that doesn't make a sound during sex?" You needled him.

"What? I…I…" he started to laugh. "I make an appropriate amount of noise during sex, thank you!"

"An appropriate amount? Joel Miller you hussy!" You teased.

"Alright! Enough." He returned your nudge to the shoulder. 

"I'm curious though, what is an appropriate amount?" You were face to face with him now, with a hope that this might actually be the time you and Joel cross the line and do something more than flirty banter.

"Maybe I'll show you sometime." He leaned closer.

"Yeah..?" You moved to meet him.

As your lips parted he pulled back. "I should buy you dinner first though. I don't want people to talk about me. There's a rumour going round that I'm a hussy."

"Come here, Miller." You grabbed a handful of his shirt to close the gap between you. You soon made some noises of your own.

#2

"Fuck!" Came a shout from upstairs. My sentiments exactly, you thought as you tried to keep your breathing slow and even. The couple had been going at it for about an hour. Joel had fallen asleep more or less right away. Thanks to your hearing being sharper than Joel's you were awake for every minute of it. You couldn't blame the couple for being a little worked up. Nearly dying and losing a loved one will do that to you. Plus the adrenaline of surviving a close call is a powerful thing. Something you knew all too well. It was still under your skin. It was making keeping up the pretence of sleep even harder. Speaking of hard, Joel shifted a little, pressing his very evident erection further into your backside. When needed you and Joel had cuddled for warmth so it wasn't the first time you'd felt him pressed into you. It was the first time you'd felt him so insistently, while listening to a couple fucking, while riding your own adrenaline high. The combination was serving to drive you insane. 

Joel giving another roll of his hips was it for you. "Shit." You cursed rolling away from him. 

Coming to, Joel quickly put the compromising situation together. "Shit. Sorry. I…"

"It's fine. It happens. Friction and whatever." You strug him off. 

"Sweetheart. This has nothing to do with friction. I'm laying under a live sex show with a beautiful woman between my legs. How could I not get turned on?" Joel was always matter of fact with you.

When you didn't say anything he sat and switched on the light. Turning to him you looked everywhere except at him."I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that…"

"No, I…beautiful?" You laughed lightly.

"Yes. Beautiful. The most beautiful woman in Jackson."

"Now I know you are lying, Joel Miller. There are younger, prettier women in Jackson."

"Younger maybe. Not prettier." He gripped your chin to pull you in for a kiss.

Your lips barely brushed when the noise upstairs reached a crescendo. A wail of 'Yes, Baby. Cum in my ass.' cut into the romance of the moment. A shared laugh simmered until the heat took over. The younger couple were then the ones that had trouble sleeping.

#3

The sound of sex had been taunting you for an hour. Eligible partners in Jackson weren't exactly plentiful. Especially at your age. Apparently women just stopped having sex after forty. Most people were either paired off before you got there or were when they arrived. There was one eligible bachelor but that was complicated. For some reason you trusted Joel more than anyone else in the world. He was honest. Thoughtful. Loyal. Sex might ruin what you had with him, a friendship built on trust and shared life experience. A friendship that you were thinking about throwing out of the window, along with your panties if he rocked his cock into you again. It had happened a few times now. Just a press of his large erection into your ass before he moved away in his sleep. The last one seemed longer, like he lingered. He seemed to settle into a deeper sleep after that. For a little while you slept too. Only to be woken by Joel's hand on your breast as he ground his cock into the flesh of your backside.

"Joel!" You called to no avail. "Joel!" 

That one got some groggy muttering followed by 'oh shit' as he practically leapt away from you. "Sorry, Darlin'. I was dreamin' I…" 

Turning to face him, you tried to calm him. "It's okay, Joel. I liked it. I've missed being touched."

With that Joel's hand engulfed the side of your face. The hands that you knew were skilled, that were calloused from him wielding those skills. A shudder ran through you as his hand travelled lower, pawing at your breast again. Joel didn't miss your reaction. "Come and lay with me again?"

This time the grind of his length into you was purposeful. He worked his cock in his jeans as his fingers circled your clit. Even just having someone else bring you to orgasm was incredible. "When we get back to Jackson. We'll put those young'uns to shame."

"Why wait? We ain't getting any younger."

#4

An hour of listening to them fuck like dogs. While Joel's broad frame pressed into you from behind. You wondered if there were any infected that you could throw yourself to. There was already a ridiculous amount of tension between you and Joel. The playful banter turned flirty on the cold nights in Jackson. Neither of you had done anything about it. You just figured he was all talk. He didn't feel all talk as you shifted back under the blanket and came into contact with his sizable erection. The feel of it had even more slick leaking into your panties. In this position there was nothing you could possibly do to ease the ache between your legs. There was no way you wanted to wake Joel either. Resigned to your fate, you settled back down. When you got home you would have to take care of yourself especially well. Heaven knows you've been doing it for long enough. The memory of being wrapped in Joel's arms usually helped a lot with that. Now you had the thought of his erection against you to help too. Temptation got the better of you when you let your hips sink back again. Perfectly fitting into the curve of Joel's body. Getting another feel of his hard cock.

"If you turn around we'd both get more out of that." Joel's voice was low; he placed a kiss to your exposed neck as his hands on your waist encouraged you to turn around. 

"Come here, Darlin'." Wrapping your legs around him he shifted onto his back. His hands rested on your hips as he guided you to ride his bulge. "That's it. Fuck, just like that."

"Fuck, yes. Feels so good, Joel." Your hands came to rest on his chest as you found your rhythm. His came to join them as he let you take control. They held yours tightly as he spilled into his jeans when you came apart above him.

#5

Even a Saint would have trouble resisting the urge to throw the young couple back out into the snowy night. It wouldn't be the worst way to go. The cold you kill them before the infected could. The worst way to die was slowly dehydrating as all the moisture in your body slowly leaked into your panties. As you currently were. They were really going at it. You could hear the bed moving across the floor. The two of them were groaning in ecstasy. With the heat of Joel at your back it was all too much. Pressing the side of your hand between you legs, you pushed the fly of your jeans against your aching clit to get some relief. A small moan escaped, one that you hoped didn't manage to catch Joel's good ear. Staying as still as possible, you waited to see if you woke him. A few seconds passed, nothing. You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do it again." Came Joel's voice, thick with sleep, or something else.

"Joel?"

"Do it again." He repeated as he pulled your hips flush with his. The evidence that he was just as affected by the free porn pressed into you. "I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how a real woman sounds when she's excited."

Before you could ask, he clarified. "That young girl up there, faking all those sounds because she doesn't know how to ask for what she wants." His hips rolled into you. "A woman like you though. Wiser. More experienced. You know how to ask for what you want. Don't you?"

You were almost too lost in the feel of him to answer. "Y..yes. Yes, I do."

"Well, what do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me, Joel." With that he was on you. Hunger kisses claimed your lips before moving down to your neck and on to your breasts as he yanked down your jeans and underwear. The cold air cooled the slick between your legs before his hand came to warm it up again. "Now, I know you need it but how do you want it?"

"From behind. Fuck me fast and deep Joel. I wanna feel you. I wanna make you cum."

"Oh, you will, Baby but I have to take care of you first."

His cock slid into you with ease given his size. "Oh, Joel!"

"There. That's what I'm talking about. I can feel you're not faking that. Your goddamn pussy is pulling me deeper. Hard and fast? Tell me no now because I won't hold back."

"Yes. Hard and fa…" The sentence was lost in a scream as he hit deep inside you. The headboard slammed against the wall. Chants of his name rang louder than anything going on upstairs. Even the high heavens could hear you. You silently thanked whoever had you back for sending you Joel.

"Oh. Fuck. Yes. You're close aren't you, Sugar?" Joel panted, his own end racing towards him. "Do you need…anything else to get…you…there?" He asked as if the magnificent pounding your g-spot was taking couldn't possibly be enough.

"Just…talk to me, Joel…tell me how good I'm… making you feel." 

"Oh...so…fucking good, Beautiful. Better than…I dreamed. I fucked my hand thinking about…you so many…times. Never…thought it….oh god." You pussy spasming around him made him stop. He knew you'd sound incredible when you came. He tilted this good ear to you, wanting to savour the moans of his name. When you finished writhing on his cock he pulled out.

"Don't stop, Joel. I want you to cum."

"Where?" 

"Inside. I can't…I mean…I don't…any more."

With your consent he sheathed himself inside again. It wasn't long until he was painting your walls. Another genuine cry of ecstasy peeled from you as you came.

Ending

The next morning, you were all set to leave early but the young ones were still asleep, much to Joel's irritation. When they did finally emerge, the guy tried to fist bump Joel apparently in appreciation for 'still getting it on as his age.' The guy soon found out that there were worse things to having giving you a death stare than Clickers.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

[ja3gerb0mbb]

bloodsucker chapter 12: venom

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

word count: 3k

content warnings: nothing too crazy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

eren’s pov:

my hands slid down y/n’s body. she turned herself, front side resting on my own as she went slack. “no way i can last another round,” her pant was hard to hear from the water coming down on both of us. running my hands through her hair, i rinsed out any remaining shampoo. “i can,” i laughed, bringing my chin to rest on her shoulder. 

my abilities allowed me to regenerate energy quickly, and with all of the blood i was drinking from y/n, i was in tiptop shape. i could keep my hands on her forever. this trip had felt like a fever dream. weeks ago, i wouldn’t have said it was even possible, but we were here. i didn’t plan to have so much sex with her in this cabin, but i wasn’t one to complain. 

finally telling her the truth about her mom lifted a weight i didn’t know had been so rough on my shoulders. many heavy burdens still clouded my vision, but at least i could finally feel again. and i was feeling with her. 

“we should probably head back today,” she sighed, bringing me out of my daydream. she grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around her body. she was right, but i couldn't help the frown that made its way onto my face. “yeah, you’re right,” i followed in her footsteps, grabbing a towel of my own. this would be our fifth day here; as much as i wanted to stay, we had lives back in sina. 

she was quick to make her way into the bedroom; i trailed her there too. from behind her, i grabbed her hips, nipping at the skin on her neck, leaving yet another hickey. the majority of her skin was purple now; i would have felt bad if she didn’t moan so loud when i gave them to her. “eren!” she pushed on my chest, giggling, “we really should get our shit together,” she was firm, but not harsh.  

making her way around the bedroom, she picked up all the clothes from the floor, most of which were mine. “do you need more clean clothes?” the laundry machine had broken; because there always had to be one thing, so she was stuck wearing all of my clothes for the entirety of the trip. i hadn’t heard her complain; i think she likes it. i made a mental note to let her sneak home with a few of my pieces. 

“yeah, that’d be good,” she folded the dirty ones, shoving them into my suitcase. i made my way over to the closet, picking out the only comfortable set left. she slid on my boxers, and i slapped her ass on the way out of the room, covering my smile. she looked so good wearing my clothes. 

things between us had changed so drastically on this trip, i worried they might slip back when we returned. i tried not to think about it; grabbing out the last pack of bacon from the fridge. 

y/n made her way into the kitchen not long after, “aw making me food again, so domestic,” i had to pause my motion of throwing the bacon on the skillet to shoot her a glare; shaking my head at the same time. “ha ha,” i sarcastically laughed. i would miss this too; her dependance on me to make her meals. it was just the two of us in our bubble; it almost felt like we were married. 

“on the way back, can i use your laptop?” another harsh reminder of the reality we had ahead of us, “i know my classes are gonna drown me,” her hands reached up to her forehead, applying pressure in preparation for the headache that would appear later. “yeah, ‘course,”

she slipped her way over to my spot by the stove, tucking herself underneath my arm and wrapping her hands around my waist as she watched the meat caramelize. i hated the smell of human food, but for her, i’d make bacon for every meal she ever ate. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the car ride back to my apartment was long. y/n spent many hours on my laptop; slamming schoolwork until the battery finally died. even with her intent focus, our bodies were constantly connected. my hand on her thigh; her hand meeting mine on the gear shift. we didn’t disconnect. 

i wasn’t sure what any of this made us. wasn’t sure if she wanted anything more than sex. i knew eventually, i’d have to suck it up and ask. “i already regret leaving,” she pulled me from my thoughts, walking behind me; pinky intertwined with my own. 

“we can go back anytime, you know,” the offer sounded lame to both of us. looking back at her, she stared at the ground with a small frown on her face. i guess both of us are unsure how things are gonna play out in reality. the air in the hallway was stiff as we approached the door. after fiddling with the lock, i walked in ahead; making sure my apartment had stayed empty on our vacation. 

“what the fuck, eren!” she quietly screamed at me, pushing past me and into the living room. where the bear from the fair sat on the couch. fuck, forgot to move that… i kept my face nonchalant, not trying to tip her off. “and how do you have this?”

i got it back after the break-in; i couldn’t have been sure she even knew it was missing. it was easy to find; bertholdt kept it in a box with other random items of hers. the bear was the only thing that felt right to take; the only thing that was also connected to me. the memory of that coward beaten into the floor flashed before my eyes; but y/n couldn’t know that. “told you bertholdt was following you around,” i couldn’t help the bitter bite to my tone. 

she frowned, patting the bear on the head. “what did you do to him..” her tone was accusatory, but she didn’t seem very angry. just curious. i turned my head, laying out the bags i was still carrying by the door. a muffled grunt caused me to turn my head. 

zeke stood in my apartment, holding y/n close to his side, hand over her mouth. her features twisted in agony as her body went stiff over his hands. “we really should talk,” a small amount of blood covered his lips. 

i didn’t think about my movements. in an instant, i was pushing zeke’s body away from hers, grabbing y/n in my arms. i gripped her cheeks, scanning her face that was still contorted in pain. my eyes caught the red of blood on her neck then. moving my left hand, i made out the bite. the bite. “fuck, no no,” i blabbered but my words were drowned out by squeals of anguish from y/n.

i covered my hand over the side of the bite; all sounds and feelings suddenly felt numb to my body. the world went dark as i realized there was nothing i could do. nothing that could stop the venom from turning her. the whites of her eyes started to turn black at the edges before they rolled back into her head. time hung in the air for a moment; i felt completely useless. i was completely useless. 

“y/n!” i tried to yell, but it came out as a whisper. i clutched her tighter to my body; her hands gripped around my torso tightly before going slack. her whole body fell weak against my lap as her eyes closed. it meant that it was working. y/n was going to turn. it was all my fault, how could i let this happen?

the cabin should’ve never happened, fuck, the whole semester shouldn’t have happened. i knew the inevitable was in front of me, but it felt like a dream. like i was just trapped in a nightmare. i’m dreaming. i’m dream- “eren!” my head snapped back to zeke; almost forgetting he was in my apartment. “pull yourself together,” he was almost irritated. 

“zeke, what the fuck did you do?” i meant to yell, but my voice sounded pathetic. it cracked, and i realized my face was hot with tears. nothing felt real. “a favor,” he put it simply, keeping his distance from me. i wanted to stand up, and knock his composure with a fist to the face, but i wouldn’t let go of her. 

with the numbness subsiding, i was finally able to voice my animosity, “a FAVOR?! are you on something?” i turned my attention back to y/n’s limp body. removing my hand from the bite, i moved it further to her jawline. her pulse was shallow, but it was there. she was still alive.  “this can’t be happening,” i watched as a tear dropped on her cheek; i barely registered it was mine. 

zeke sighed next to me, “don’t act so disappointed,” his voice was icy cold. “disappointed? disappointed doesn’t cover it! what the fuck were you thinking?” zeke had already ruined so much in my life; i couldn’t be surprised he’d cause more pain. my brain lagged behind the conversation, still trying to grasp what was happening in front of me. 

“i was thinking that you’re in love with her,” the phrase sent a shock through my system. i had never thought about what i felt for y/n. the connection had always been there, i assumed my growing infatuation of her was due to it. was i? no. no, it’s not love, the attempt to reason with myself wasn’t strong. “zeke, you’re so far off,” i muttered, not sure if he was. 

“i’m not,” he was so definite, but my lack of trust in zeke made it impossible to really process his words. “you don’t know anything, i’m not in love with her,” the words sounded weak leaving my mouth. i wasn’t sure what to make of the two of us, but love couldn’t be the case.

his tongue ticked on the roof of his mouth, “and now you’re lying. you should be happy dad doesn’t know about the cabin,” he once again caught me off guard. i knew he was always monitoring me closely, but i’d hoped y/n had been masked with our other friends. it’s the reason i had to take her so far away just to be alone with her; it’s my fault for underestimating how far zeke would go. “i did this for you, eren,” he snapped me out of my puzzling thoughts. 

“how is this for me?!” my voice picked up again; having the weight of anger behind it. “are you going to sit here and tell me you didn’t think about it?” zeke’s voice slipped, sounding almost exhausted. it was the first time in years he sounded sincere. it brought out something in me; clicking something in my brain i couldn’t register, “of course i did, but i never would have done it.” my head shook, looking back at y/n. her skin startled to pale, all red draining from her face. “i never wanted this for her,” i whispered, more to myself. 

“exactly. i worked out that kink for you,” his tone was back to being eerily cool. the time passed slowly, and i began coming to terms with her impending change. this was real; it really would happen. “everything’s gonna change for her, you just made her life so much more complicated,” i blabbered yet again to myself. 

“like it did for you,” it was unexpected to hear from zeke. he was so devoted to our fathers ways, i had never heard him speak of vampirism in a negative tone. there were never any downsides to it; in his eyes. “you deserve some happiness; watching her age as you followed years behind her would’ve killed you even more.” zeke sounded different; his energy had been titled. i couldn’t be sure what to make of him. it doesn’t really matter, he had brought me so much suffering, nothing would change that fact. 

“it doesn’t matter, i didn’t want this for her.” zeke had approached me, assuming it was safe since my hands were preoccupied, “she could want it, though.” i hadn’t thought about it. but it would be a ‘want’ she knew nothing about. i wouldn’t have turned her even if she begged me. she was the last person who deserved a fate like this. “well, it’s not like you fucking asked her opinion!”

he sat on the arm of the couch, looking down on me from a lower distance, “she’ll wake up soon enough. you can ask her then. not everyone hates being a vampire as much as you do, eren.” i already knew that, but it was a hard pill to swallow regardless. the idea was so fucked i pushed it out quickly. “you really have no reason to be so mad at me,” zeke continued in my silence, “after everything i’ve done for you.”

it was hard not to glare in disbelief. done for me? marco’s bloody and mangled body shot before my eyes. that wasn’t for me, my hands shook in anger, bouncing y/n’s lifeless body slightly. “done for me? becoming dad’s ‘apprentice’ was for me?”

“actually it was. god you are so naive,” a scoff echoed through my apartment, i looked up to see his eyes roll into his head, “my allegiance to grisha is the only reason he even lets you live a normal life.”

“it’s hardly normal,” a scoff came from my own body. zeke was even more delusional than i thought if he really did feel that way. “it would be even less,” his cold tone broke again; revealing the sympathetic undertone. “you’re right eren, i shouldn’t have bit her. i wouldn’t have done it if i felt like there was a better outcome.”

my presence put her in danger, but i was cautious. i could’ve prevented her from being sucked into this life entirely, but zeke ruined that, “now you’re really talking nonsense.” if my mind wasn’t running rampant with anxiety over y/n, i might’ve been susceptible to what zeke was talking about. 

“i’m really not. grisha’s lost a few more screws with you gone. i think you might’ve been the only thing keeping him tied to reality. if he ever found out about your feelings for that ‘blood bag’” he mimicked with air quotes, “she’d be as dead as marco.” he almost started making sense. grisha was more unhinged than usual on my last visit.. what happens when i’m not there? 

zeke’s meaning was quickly lost on me, “don’t use his fucking name like that.” another reminder of marco brought me back to the reality of things. zeke was a vampire, willing to kill for grisha. it didn’t matter that his composure was different; somewhat comforting. he would always be a murderer in my eyes. “you’ve never apologized for that, you know,” once again, my mind ran through the memory of his body. 

“i’m sorry eren, truly,” his words were sincere, but his tone lacked any real remorse, “but i don’t care much for your friends. only you, and everything i have done has been for your own sake.” my mind blocked out the rest of the ‘apology.’ “i don’t believe you.”

his shoulders moved up and down in a shrug, “you don’t have to. but i know why i’ve made the decisions i have.” he moved from his position on the couch; i clutched y/n tighter to my body on instinct. “you’re expected at home in the coming days,” his body was closer to the door in an instant. i had to pivot our position; preventing my back from being turned to him. 

“you’re fucking kidding,” i scoffed. he ignored my whining, “you’ll have to bring the new vampire,” his lips twitched, like he was fighting back a smile. my features furrowed in a deep scowl. he needed to leave; and i needed to take care of her as much as i could. “tell grisha you changed her yourself, say you gifted her for her generous supplies of blood.”

i ignored his humorous excuse, “no. i’m not bringing her there.” the only thing worse than her becoming a vampire is being in a closed space full of them; human or not it wasn’t a risk i was willing to take. 

“neither of you really have the option. if grisha were to find out from someone other than you, he’d kill her. regardless of her vampirism.” he made an unfortunate point. grisha would always find out; even if zeke neglected to share the information with him. “so she’s dead either way.”

“not if you just do as i say!” his composure slipped again, this time showing the anger burning in his eyes. “fuck eren, stop being so stubborn,” he growled at me, “she was dead as soon as you got yourself tangled with her, don’t blame this on me.” once again, i knew he was right. even with the knowledge, i couldn't stop my face from twitching.

i could blame zeke all i wanted for biting her, but it wouldn’t have happened if i stayed away. “just.. go,” i ran my fingers over her skin. there was hardly any warmth to be felt. “i’ll be there,” my decision wasn’t made, but i needed zeke to leave. now. the slam of the door echoed through the room; the only sign he left. 

finally, my brain could think in the silence. y/n was turning right under my hands. her eyelids started to flutter, showing the light pink under her eyes that would eventually fester into a dark purple. the cabin felt like eons ago; now we really would never be able to go back to that. it’s all my fault. all i could do now was accept the decisions i made that got both of us here, and hold her closer. at least she wouldn’t be alone. not like i was. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: eren stop blaming yourself for everything challenge go!

spotify playlist

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman

[lilywily143]

Live Blog Number 2

Murder Drones Episode 4: Cabin Fever

Just to say it, I love N's hat in the Thumbnail. I hope to see Khan at least once

CAMP 98.7, with a school bus coming up

There is a robot riding the bus like a cowboy and that's goofy

Oh it's definally the main protag's class. I see her fire head [literally] classmate making light in the bus XD

THEY ALL HAVE GOOFY COLORED HATS AWW

oh don't you dare tell me Lizzy and Thad are friends idk if I am happy or not

Awww Uzi [protag] has a backpack with bat wings

Oh gosh Khan!!

And wow he and a lot of people were at the camp when humans were alive

Collars Uzi and Doll have have numbers?

Oh gosh those are her mom's things?! SHe's a artist...?

"SKy deamon, sigularity, look at this S I can draw." It's that sharp triangle thing, that's a lot of stuff, and wow her mom is intresting

"I'm not who either of you needed" Khan no your awesome

Oooo did mom have a collar like Uzi? Well makes sence with that program

"just be safe" Khan you are the best dad I love you /p

I love the teachers straw hat and also Uzi made this field trip a thing! Must be about the pictures she found

HAH She didn't want a field trip, the teacher just saw it as a exsuse to make the other's grades go up. SO they are stuck with miss "crazy"

AHHHHHH N AND V ARE COUNCLERS I LOVE THEM EEE N I LOVE YOU AND V IS SO NONCHALANT I JUST LOVE THEM

Oh gah a kid fainted at them..... I don't blame them... oh wait V shot them as a warning for others... Of course she did

Yeah, be mad at V, N. "Minus 1"

So the trio of V N and Uzi are making the others do crap for their own investigation? Cool! And Uzi was so flattered at that aww

Ooo Lizzy and Thad helping the trio!!?? YES

"Anything for my bestie" Lizzy, you really seem to be a bit better

I love how V always has her claws out, she don't care

Nawww Uzi calling them friends with her blush AND a :3 smile. That was the best thing ever, so far

Someone called N a little guy even thou he is super tall. Not complaining

Oh they think the Murder Drones are defective and that's why they are nice. Hhh

V is trying so hard to not kill for Uzi, I love that for her but man she will lose it later.

Rebacca don't you dare flirt with N

Uzi, doing her work. But leaving the murder drones to the class. Hope it's okay

ooo human buildings

ooo she's getting good at her Absolute Solver Program Powers and oh no a bug

Hah I love this calander Uzi found "EVACUTE ALL DOGS: JUST IN CASE SOMEONG BAD HAPPENS IDK <- Cool we did that that's canon. Also all dogs are immortal now! THANKS TO SCIENCE"

AND UZI WAS SO RELIVED TO READ THAT MY GOSH YOU KNOW WHAT DOGS ARE?!

HAND HAND HAND HUMAN HAND A SCREAM?! SOMETHINGS GONNA HAPPEN

hhhhh that gave me a heart attack, the class got close to wear Uzi is investigating and shessh. But what's with the hand?

Two robots are holding a boat with Lizzy and V on top. WHat a ship hah

And Rebacca, stop. flirting. with. N. He has no intrest with you!

V is actually being light hearted, that's really cute to see.

"I CAN'T SWIM" The lake is frozen over -_- ANd of course N "saved" her like the sweetie he is

Uzi, breathe! "High Temp"!oh no this aint good

ohhh nooo She took a robot hand to EAT but her drone type shouldn't have that urge. Uzi please

Oh V thanks for checking on her...

YOU SRACTHED UZI'S FACE PLATE!?

Don't you dare make Uzi insecre with her friend making skills and then LEAVE ALL NONCHALANT!? V WHAT IS WITH YOU?!

ok, Well Uzi helped repair a little bug. That's nice

She gave it the salute as it left, naww

hhh a dead robot under the floorboards, thanks bug for going there, I guess

okay more creepy drawings, mabye Uzi's mom. ALso "THIS SIDE IN INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK" yet that text is on it XD

Cool looking claw nail in the paper

wait, a green bug variety. The others were always red

IT MAKES EMOTES IN TEXT BUBBLES oh gosh wait "SUBMIT TIMECARD | PTO REQUEST | REGISTER TORTURE CHAMBER COMPLAINT | END MY SUFFERING (PROMO OFFER DISCONTINUED) | CALL ELAVATOR" What the freak?!?!

The bug heard Uzi and sent in in the chat

AHHH DOLL HOLOGRAM NO

hhh back to the class with Archery!

Aww N is so cute, "Did I.. Cheat?" No your just a pro

well, V didn't kill that one, but I think she is about to....!

Uzi is back-ish, she showed N the chatting bug

Aww well, N tried. "Don't tell V I'm Here" "Uzi is that you? Get over here... WAIT NO REFLEXES!"

igybhuoinjefbvhnjk UZI WHAT DID YOU DO?!?! SHE MADE A CREPPY DRAWING CREATURE WITH THE PROGRAM BY ACCIDENT!!! WHAT THE FUCK IT'S SO GROSS!!

OH GOSH V MAY RECONISE IT?!

NO UZI DON"T RUN YOU NEED HELP!!

BREATHE UZI DON"T EAT THE ARM OH GOSH UZI CALM DOWN

SHE CAN"T CONTROL THE PROGRAM IT MADE ANOTHER CREEPY DRAWING CRITTER AHH UGH THE NOISES

oh gosh back to class, V wants to kill UZi but N defends like a good friends. And Lizzy pulled her phone out to record...

"SHE'S A KID, LIKE US V" gosh they really are kid robos

N is going to find Uzi and sheesh V really won't talk about what the thing she won't talk about is.

"Hot... Not Hot? You're to good for him" Lizzy, they aren't dating at this point.

Rebacca, what was with that look to V??? /genuinly oh wait she left the area with her bf [oh yeah also, why flirt with N if you have this un named guy??]

They found Uzi's investigation place, and now hidey hole. Stay safe

Hhhhh so much grossness is around the place

Uzi's flashlight, where is she?

SHE HAS BAT WINGS HERSELF NOW SHE HAS THE DISSASABALLY DRONE SYMBOL ON HER FACE LIKE N AND V SOMETIMES DO!!!! FUCK NO

oh gosh wait N is in the next scence and it made me think.... The current Murder Drones has wings that are bone-like, but Uzi's were bat-fleshy.... Did N, V, and also J have a fleshy look before the flashback scene in the piolt??? Did something happen to make the metal structure underneath appear?

N is in the hidey hole. PLZ PLZ be safe

Wait is it the same, there seems to be a lot more tech. or is this further in the house Uzi found???

"Zombie Drones!!!" A training video.... Oh fuck what is Uzi actually??

hhhh N got flashbacks of a girl, a lone hand, and the core situatinon talked in the piolt..

UZI GOSH! SHE IS DEVOURING THOSE ROBOTS AND SHE CAN'T HANDLE IT IN HER BODY! N FIND HER NOW

Oh no something escaped the house and it isn't Uzi on a rampage. CRAP IT"S WHAT A ZOMBIE DRONE WILL BE WON'T IT

back to class... they are roasting battieres over a fire.. clever

Rebacca's upper half came to the class!! Not a zombie drone yet gahh

"Unpopular, purple hair, hot topic." You don't remember her name so this is what you say!? Rebacca you suck

Uzi what are you doing here?

Oh gosh she really looks like a murder drone now but fleshy...

Where is Thad? He's been gone for a while.

"That's not what the book said" What does that mean?

oh hoho Uzi looks quite epic but I know this isn't good for her. She is killing them

HHH Uzi is using a body as a puppet for BAIT

V IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY AND LIZZY YES

"killing her, not saving you." "okaaay Mom" V and Liz have a fun bond

hhhh don't kill Uzi PLZ ahhh she wants to talk to N my heartttt

UZI'S TAIL HAS A MOUTH AHHH GROSS

UZI BROKE V'S ARM AHH UZI'S TAIL BITE OFF V'S TAIL AFHBEWBLFJK

NNNNNN N YAH!!!

"Easy there buddy." *is stabbed in hand by Uzi* "Hahah ow" HE'S SO NON CHALANT RIGHT NOW AND AHH N I LOVE U

N and V are really just siblings

HHhh N is so sweet trying to help Uzi, who YEAH she's acting normal. aka tsndere

"You weren't with me to make it fun, somehow." N YOU SWEETHEART

EEEE He is so sweet, making a puppet with her tail, and her little giggles at it <333

She tried it to <33333

oh gosh right they were talking while falling [did I not mention that N threw Uzi in the air? idk why he did but it happened, i just thought she'd come back down immediatly]

Oh V has a fixed arm and is ready to kill.

N held Uzi at the last second he is so nice.

hhh his happy little face holding Uzi in such a close hug

[N is the pink blob] I love this robot /p

V stood down. Yes

Lizzy is back to sass V up a little, nice

Aww V smiled at Lizzy behind her back in such a sencire way.

the bus leaves the camp

HHHH Uzi sleeping on N's shoulder and N is sleeping too and the little green bug is with them AAA

Hh V pulling a excuse for Uzi about the missing kids

Oh gosh the sun hurts Uzi now like N!! Oh gosh she really is a flesh murder drone.

hhh she held N's hand in her sleep but N was too shy to hold it back ahh

He still has the Zombie Drones VHS...

~and credits

#LilyWily Post #Murder Drones #murder drones spoilers #Murder Drones episode 4

[the-fiction-witch]

Elisview Manor P2

Media IRL

Characters Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Spooky

I did my best to make myself at home here I made up the fire, settled my things and ran myself a nice hot bath, the water steaming sweetly. I pealed the many layers of my dress away adding them to a small wicket laundry basket but leaving my ribbon as always, I went over and climbed into my bath having to hiss from the heat as I first climbed in but soon settled into the nice heat relaxing against the side for a while. Once I had relaxed all the knots out of my back I took my bar of soap and scrubbed the dirt and death off my body, I kept hearing that strange creaking and shuffling behind the walls but I did my best not to let it bother me as I finished up my bath. I climbed out wrapping my towel around me tightly heading out to sit by the fire and putting a brush through my hair before tying it up tightly to prevent it from knotting up into a mess while I slept. Once I was dry I slipped on my cotton nightie and closed up all my curtains, locked my door and headed to my bed I left a candle on the small table as I climbed into the large double bed built into the wall, the walls around and above me had a sweet wallpaper with thorned vines swirling around it, I got myself under the soft covers and blew out the candle plunging my room almost into utter darkness if not for the small light coming in from under my door and the flames flicking in the fireplace, I tried to settle myself to sleep but found the vast darkness frightening so I pulled the doors of my box bed closed and locked them from within giving me some peace that I was surely safe in my little box. I plumped my pillow and got comfortable happily drifting off to sleep to the sounds of wind whistling and my fire cracking. 

I woke to the sound of knocking on my room door, I opened the shutters of my bed and climbed out heading over to the door and opening it up to see Miss Marybell. 

“Good morning” 

“Morning, The master of the house is leaving on business he requests to see you before he leaves.”

“I will get ready and come down as soon as I can, Miss” I nodded closing my door,

I got dressed for the day into my stockings boots, bloomers, dress and gloves tying my ribbon as always before I hurried down to the front gravel where a coach sat well loaded and I spotted Miss Marybell as well as the boy I met yesterday who immediately glared at me

“Ah there you are Miss Y/l/n” The master of the house smiled “Now I don’t know when I’ll be back, but you two take care of the house and look after each other” he said “I’m sure you two will find common ground over the coming cold days” He explained 

“Yes sir” I nodded 

“We can Hope” The boy glared

“Thomas. Be nice” He warned

“Yes Father” Thomas sighed 

“Good, I’ll see you both when I return” he said before he finished his arrangements and climbed into the coach before it started off pulling away from the house. Miss Marybell headed inside to return to work leaving thomas and I stood together.

“Perhaps we should-” I began 

“Go drown in the river” he snapped 

“Oh goodness” I gasped “Please sir, whatever have I done to offend you so?” 

“I want you out. As soon as possible. Whatever you up to you can forget it. I’m lord of the manor while my fathers gone” He said “You are to stay in your room, I find you out of it I’ll throw you in the elis river myself” He said heading inside 

“Yes sir” I nodded headed inside and up to my room got one of my books and sat in the window seat to look out across the river listening to the wind whistle and the fire crack away doing my best to stay off the cabin fever already setting in. 

I did my best to do as thomas had asked of me, but as lovely as my room was I found myself utterly mindless being stuck up in her all day every day, my only break when Marybell would bring me my breakfast and dinner her having long since dropped me off a pot and small rack so I could brew my own tea on the fireplace. I had been up here for days, But I snuck out of my room and did my best to sneak through the house doing my best to stay away from his part of the house, trying my best to explore without getting in any trouble. I stopped at the kitchens, and the library, and popped into several offices and unused rooms, and various windows looking out the gardens and river, I stopped for a moment as I saw a tall portrait of a well-aged woman standing in a long white dress in the middle of a group of ten young children the painting old but well cared for, and in the back corner I saw her.

“Mother.” I whispered, “Did you find yourself so sleepless here?”

“What did I tell you!” His voice echoed through the halls I didn’t even turn to look I simply bolted as fast as I could down the stairs and corridors with him chasing after me “Get back here you little witch!” I ran as fast as I could trying to get back to my room where I could shut and lock the door “Come here!” He yelled catching up to me, I turned seeing him so close behind me and he went to grab my neck but he grabbed the end of my ribbon pulling on it as he grabbed it immediately I screamed tumbling to the floor in a panic holding my neck tightly he stopped as he heard me scream looming over me his face softening as he seemed confused and alarmed at what exactly he’d done. “What?” He asked, “What did I do?” 

I couldn’t bring myself to answer the seconds of silence between us seemed like hours until he moved closer kneeling beside me and offering my ribbon in his hand 

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said “Here, Take it” 

I took the ribbon and quickly retied it around my neck with a bow and fixed myself slightly “You didn’t. I’m sorry I-”

“It’s alright,” he reassured offering his hand and I took it as he helped us both to stand “What are you doing out of your room?”

“I became feverish sir”

“Sickness?”

“No, cabin fever sir. My room is very beautiful but it is only one room” 

“I’m sorry. It has been a long time since a lady walked the halls of Elisview.” He said “I do not mean to be cruel. But I assure you, you are far safer in your room.” 

“Safer? From what may I ask?”

“If I told you, you wouldn't be safe any longer” 

“I see. Forgive me, for not listening to your rules.”

“Come. I’ll walk you back” he said 

“Thank you” I nodded 

He squeezed my hand still in his own and we walked the dark somber corridors together 

“If I may ask how long has it been since a woman has walked the Elisview halls?”

“Discounting Marybell. You are the first since my mother died”

“Forgive me I shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine. You lost your own recently? My father told me”

“The dirt is still fresh upon her as it were.”

“I lost my own when I was thirteen. I warn you, The pain never truly leaves you.” 

“I can’t imagine it would.”

“You lost your father too?”

“Many years ago.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright, we all must lose and gain” I answered 

“I don’t see much of my father. He’s away most of the time, and even when he is here he doesn’t have much desire to see me.”

“Whyever not?”

“... it brings back memories for him. Terrible memories.” 

“Of your mother?”

“He’s always said I remind him of her, he doesn’t want to be reminded of his loss,” he said I didn’t speak I didn’t want to tear open the wounds he clearly still carried “Here. get yourself in for the night,” he said as we reached my room 

“Of course, Thank you for walking me back”

“Don’t leave again. Not without someone with you. Especially not at night.” He warned 

“Yes sir” I nodded sheepishly 

“But… I’ll come up in the morning take you down to breakfast. Stop you feeling so feverish” 

“Ohh thank you”

“It’s fine” he snapped “Get to bed.” He demanded heading off into the house and disappearing into the darkness not long after, I did as he asked going into my room and locking the door, I took off my dress and changed into my nightie, I threw an extra couple of logs on the fire, closed up the curtains and headed to bed climbing in and shutting the doors on myself crawling under the covers and doing my best to sleep and not worry over his words, and his concern, often stroking my ribbon out of fear he may have seen below it. 

#tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs smut #tbs imagines #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut

[myneckmybackmyanxietyattack]

Savior: Scientist! Arin x GN Reader

Hey, remember when I said I'd make that Scientist! Arin x Reader fic? Yeah, that was almost 10 months ago... but it's here now, so it's okay! Not actual IRL Arin because he is happily married and that's gross.

TW: Panic attacks, mentioned death (nothing graphic).

Word Count: 3075.

A/N: It/its for Anti because I can, they/them for reader. This is my first published x reader (1,000s have been written in the mind), so feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!

The agents, or whatever they were called, had taken you to this place about a month ago. Or longer, time was hard in a block of stone. The cabin fever was beginning to set in, and the only interaction with others was when food was delivered. There was also a tennis ball, but that got boring quickly and was soon placed on the table to be ignored. Then, just as you were about to bash your head against a wall to alleviate your boredom, a person walked in and sat down at the table.

“They let you have your hair like that? I figured this was a ‘professional facility’ with how my kidnappers conducted themselves.” You stared at the stranger’s long hair, mainly focused on the patch that was bleached. He wasn’t necessarily a bad-looking dude, just not the stereotypical scientist/interrogator you had expected. 

“I assure you,” he responded coldly, “my appearance is within any protocols my company might have. Although how I conduct myself is none of your concern.”  

“Just saying,” you threw your hands up in mock surrender. “Now what do you want? Not to be rude but I’ve been stuck in here for like, a month now. I’m probably not super high on your priority list and don’t know anything or anyone that could be a threat, so why the whole drugging and shoving me in here ordeal?” The man raised his eyebrows and scratched a note down on his clipboard. 

“Any force used for your transport was strictly necessary. We are not here, (Y/N) (L/N), to talk to you about any persons that you may be affiliated with, we are here to talk about the threat you pose to others.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Your file states the following. ‘(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N). Abilities: Shadow Manipulation. Includes creation of shadows, ability to bring shadows into this plane or make them tangible, and travelling through shadows.’ Did we miss anything or get any information incorrect?”

“Nope. So how long have you been stalking me? I don’t use my ‘abilities’ very often, so how you found out is a fact I would love to know.”

“I’m afraid that is classified information.” 

You rolled your eyes. Of course that was unavailable information. If you were being honest with yourself they were probably going to kill you to ‘eliminate the threat’ or whatever their excuse was.

“I can assure you that I.R.I.S only wants to help you Mx. (L/N).” Your eyes narrowed at that. “While we are on the topic of help,” he smiled softly, “How would you like a job?”

-Timeskip, 9 months later.-

You glanced over Chase’s file, absorbing the information carefully. A small notebook lay beside you, filled with notes on what you needed to ask about the new ‘subject’ (you had never liked that term). It was odd, he had only one incident of spatial transition, but here he was in the facility. You were pretty sure that was the same cell you had been in before you got the job offer, which was a little unnerving, but you’d manage.

“Don’t forget to ask about Altr 114209!” Arin called as he walked past. 

“I know how to do my job, Hanson! Don’t try me!” Arin laughed from down the hall. Despite the… weird circumstances of your introduction, he quickly became your best friend in I.R.I.S. His cold exterior had melted away into a warm, chaotic personality. You might have been growing feelings for him, but he didn’t need to know that yet. Why ruin what you had anyway?

You walked into the room, fluorescent lights humming softly. Mr. Brody was sitting at the desk, head in hand. He looked up at you, a cold glare passing over his face at your presence. Your eyes widened at his appearance. Arin had told you he wasn’t doing the best, but this is so much worse than anything you could have anticipated. Despite your concern, there was a job to do, and you were going to do it. 

“Hello, Mr. Brody. My name is (Y/N) (L/N), and I will be interviewing you today.” A soft smile graced your lips, trying to appear as friendly as possible. You always had felt a form of sympathy for those you questioned, as you had been in this position not even a year ago. 

“This another assessment? I’ve already told the other guy, "I don't know how I got here, I don’t know Altr 114-whatever, I just want to go home!” His chest heaved at the outburst, eyes glistening with tears. 

A soft sigh escaped your lips. “Mr. Brody-” 

“Oh, so it’s ‘Mr. Brody’ now huh?” He interrupted angrily. “What happened to ‘subject’? Did the other guy tell you it would shut me down? Trying to get more information? Because it won’t-”

“Mr. Brody!” You snapped quickly. He stopped talking immediately, instead resuming the glare he had given earlier. “Apologies,” you stated, “I needed to regain control of the conversation. To answer your question, no, I am technically not qualified to give the Dr. Hopkins Assessment. I simply wanted to inform you about Altr 114209, since you seem to be confused about its existence. Has anyone been following you, harming you, affecting you mentally?”

“I mean, there’s this thing. I don’t know what it is, but I,” his voice broke, “I think it killed my kids.” 

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. Brody. And before you say anything,” you quickly cut him off, “this is not from a place of pity or fake sympathy. I know what it feels like to lose someone dear to you. But, for the record, that is Altr 114209. We are currently trying to apprehend him…” you trailed off, eyes widening as you realised why Mr. Brody was here.

“ Mx. (L/N). (Y/N)? Are you okay?” He looked at you, concerned. 

“Perfectly fine Mr. Brody,” you replied quickly with a fake smile, “I just need to cut today’s talk short. I’ll see if there’s anything else I can bring you, these rooms can be dreadfully boring. Goodbye!” 

“Bye?” He replied, watching as you rushed out of the room. 

You ran down the hall, trying your best to remember where Arin’s office was. You turned right, finding the door a few feet down the aisle. You stood in front of the door, taking a few calming breaths. ‘You can beat him up after work (Y/N). Just confirm that he knows, then smack him into next week.’ 

You knocked and entered a few moments later. Arin looked up from his paperwork, a small smirk on his face. “Thought you were supposed to be interviewing Mr. Brody. Miss me that much (L/N)?”

“Did you know?”

“What are you talking about (Y/N)? Know what?

“Don’t ignore the question, Hanson!” You snapped, the shadows in the room slowly sliding towards the desk where you both were standing. “Did you know that I.R.I.S was planning to lure Altr 114209 here?” 

Arin’s eyes widened slightly, a sigh escaping his lips. “(Y/N)…”

“So you did know huh? God, I can’t believe I thought you’d tell me!” You ran your hand through your hair, turning away from him.

“You have to understand, I’m just following protocol, that’s it-”

“No, you’re just being a blind idiot! Do you realize how much of a suicide mission this is? We don’t even know what Altr can do yet, and you're bringing it here. Need I remind you that we have a bunch of Mutants here, most with a grudge much greater than my own? If Altr doesn’t kill us all first, I wouldn’t be surprised if he convinced them to!” You panted, eyes watering as you slowly calmed down from your enraged ranting. 

The cold expression on Arin’s face hurt almost more than his lies. Almost. 

“It is not our duty to question I.R.I.S, (L/N).” Your jaw dropped at his tone. Cool, collected, painfully similar to how he first spoke when interrogating you. “It would do you well to remember you are technically still a subject here,” he continued, ignoring the tears that threatened to spill down your face. “It would be a shame if you were reported for being a potential threat to the goals of the organisation. Not for you, of course. That would be another failed experiment. It would look rather bad on my record though.”

You wiped your eyes, expression stealing. “So that’s how it is, huh? I guess you better report me then because I’m done.” Turning around, you began to walk away. 

Stopping suddenly, you turned to glance at Arin’s apathetic smile. “Glad to know you only see me as a messed up test subject, Hanson,” you laughed mirthlessly. With that, you headed back to your office to gather your things and prepare for your return to a concrete cell.

——

You never did get sent back to your cell, but something had definitely changed. You no longer were ‘supervised’ by Hanson; a different, more serious person had taken his place. 

It was boring. You were quickly taken off the Chase Brody assignment after your discovery, and forced to do paperwork as an implied punishment for sticking your nose into places it shouldn’t be. 

Occasionally you would pass by Hanson, who would walk by you without even a nod. I.R.I.S employees were cold to you, and you were almost ready to turn yourself in if it meant not having to suffer through your loneliness and boredom anymore. Then, it came. 

——

The alarms blared as you ran through the halls, eyes wide in terror. Everyone was dead except for you. Corpses were strewn across the floor, but you wouldn’t- couldn’t- leave. Not until you found Arin. 

He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead and it’s your fault the shadows sang as they stretched towards you, panic making your carefully crafted control slip. Then you saw Altr standing over someone. No, not someone. Arin, your best friend, the person you loved more than anyone on Earth. Everything stopped. 

Altr was not touching him. You would die first. Altr turned to look at you, eyes glowing as it smirked. 

“You aren’t touching him,” you snarled, hands curling into fists. Altr's smirk turned into a wolf-like grin.

“Oh, yeah? What are yeh gonna do ‘bout it, lassie?” 

“This.” 

Shadows erupted from the walls, pulled from an unknown plane; they wrapped around Arin, and with an exhale, you fell into the void. 

——

The cabin you had pulled him and yourself to was cosy, if a little isolated. Not that you were complaining, long nights were often spent in your office at a desk. On the rare occasion you left for the night, you would mostly crash at a nearby motel, as your house was sold during the period of time I.R.I.S locked you up.

Arin was… better. He still wasn’t talking to you all that much, but you understood he needed time to cope with what happened at the facility. The money left in your account went to groceries (you would travel to the nearest town via shadow to grab them). You were tense, to say the least. Fear of I.R.I.S- or whatever was left of it- finding you often meant nights sitting up on the roof with tea/coffee/hot chocolate looking at the stars and wishing things were back to normal.

Then, the argument happened. 

Tensions were already high, with your last words exchanged basically being a declaration of the end of your friendship. 

You’d finally had enough. You and Arin were finishing dinner when it happened, the silence between you thick with awkwardness. Setting down your fork, you decided to speak.

“So when are we talking about it?”

Arin looked up in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. You had always found it attractive when he did that, usually caused by the paperwork that was thrown on his desk by the higher ups. Now, it just annoyed you. 

“Talk about what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Hanson.” He gaped at you, the shock of you using his last name rendering him speechless, so you decided to continue. “Everything that happened, you idiot. I.R.I.S, Altr? Y’know, the entire reason we ended up here in the first place! I saved your life, and you have not spoken a word to me.”

Hanson’s gaze turned colder, more neutral. “What is there to say? We’ve ended up here, we’ll probably stay here until funds run out or I.R.I.S comes to save us.” It was your turn to stare at him in shock. 

“Go back to I.R.I.S? After everything they did to us? You almost died because of them, Arin! They used you, and me, for their sick little game! We lost Brody. We aren’t of use to them anymore. They are NOT going to save us. God, what do they have on you that you couldn’t imagine breaking free from that hellhole?”

“What do you want me to say, then? Clearly you're looking for a specific response that I’m not understanding. So, enlighten me, (L/N). What do you want me to say?”

“Well, a thank you and an apology would be nice.”

“And why would I do that?” Arin raised a brow at you. 

“Why? Why! I saved your pathetic little life, Hanson! I let you live with me, eat the food I bought, sleep in the bed I make every morning, and I ask for nothing else! After everything you did to me, the lies, the radio silence, the cold looks, I still helped you. I don’t know why I did, clearly you’re such a narcissist that you don’t think this is anything but the status quo!”

“Then STOP TRYING TO HELP ME!” Hanson slammed his hands down on the table. You jumped a little, trying to keep your breathing at a normal pace. “I would have gotten out of there, with or without your help, (Y/N).”

You scoffed. “The only way you were getting out of that facility without me was in a body bag, Hanson. Don’t act high and mighty.”

“I’m not ‘acting high and mighty’. I’m tamping down your little saviour complex that seems to flare up whenever you’re around me. I don’t need you (L/N). I thought this was established at the facility. You were a means to an end. Nothing else.”

You wanted to scream, cry, laugh, to do something to stop the pain blooming inside. Instead, you opted for walking out of the door, reestablishing the silence that had permeated the cabin for so long. Soon, you ran, eyes burning, head pounding, heart aching with the stabbing wounds Arin’s words had brought you. 

You didn’t know when the panic attack had started. You didn’t know when your quiet breathing turned into hyperventilating. You didn’t know when the sun had set, bathing the woods in darkness. You didn’t know when your shadows had surrounded you, keeping the world out, protecting you with their darkness. All you knew was that you didn’t want to move. You wanted to become one with the trees, hair turned to moss as the world forgot about you, moved on. You wanted it all to stop.  Then, there was a voice. A voice that was almost familiar, calling out your name.

Arin. 

Your shadows wrapped around you tighter, trying to hide you from the source of your pain. They grew like vines, wrapping around your skin gently, attempting to hide you from the man chasing after you. Then, he was there. Saying your name softly, like he hadn’t used it not ten minutes ago to wound you. Or was it an hour? Time had blurred in your panic. Tears sprang to your eyes as the shadows swelled, trying to push him away. He said your name again, quietly, reverently, like it was the only thing that mattered. He said it again and again, slowly coaxing you out of the shield that wrapped around you. Your shadows eased away as you calmed, gradually slipping back to where they came from. His arms wrapped around you, as he whispered in your ear. 

“Breathe. I’m here now, it’s okay, breathe.” 

You calmed, arms wrapping around him in return, clinging onto Arin like he was a raft in a storm; the only thing keeping you afloat in a sea of emotions. He was here. He came looking for you. He didn’t forget about you, let you melt into the forest. 

“I’m sorry,” you croaked. Arin looked at you in surprise. 

“No, no, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be apologising. I’m the reason you're out here.”

“Why did you come looking for me? I thought I was just ‘means to an end’,” you laughed bitterly. 

“Because I realised how much of an idiot I am. I never thought you were means to an end, (Y/N), I was scared.” You tilted your head in confusion. “I had never felt emotions that I felt around you,” Arin continued, “and frankly I didn’t know how to handle them. So I thought pushing you away was the answer, that maybe I could go back to my normal self if you weren’t in my life. But I was wrong, and it hurt more than anything I had experienced.

“You matter to me more than words can describe, (Y/N). I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

“And how do you see me?” You whispered, a soft smile on your face. 

“Like this.” Then he was kissing you. 

Arin’s lips were soft, and gentle. He smelled of wood and ink and something deeper that you don’t think you could place with all the time in the world. 

He lifted you up carefully, cradling you in his arms, before slowly making his way back to the cabin. How he knew where to go, even in the dead of night, was a quality that confused you, but you weren’t complaining. 

Your room was dark when Arin set you down or your bed; he hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. You grabbed his wrist before he could walk away. “Stay, please?” You croaked. Arin nodded, a soft smile blossoming on his face. As you fell asleep together, limbs tangled, you knew this was the start of something wonderful. 

#I.R.I.s #altr 114209 #antisepticeye #x reader #fluff #arin hanson #arin hanson x reader #scientist! arin x reader #the only content for this character #that i am aware of

[solradguy]

GUILTY GEAR BEGIN (ENGLISH) = PROLOGUE

Word Count: 1503 Warnings: None Next Chapter >  Chapter One 『ACCIDENT』 Chapter Index & Credits Page ・ Mobile Friendly Version

Frederick Bulsara was lying down. He leaned his back on the grass and looked up at the blue sky and the drifting clouds, not caring that his dark shaggy hair and white coat were getting dirty.

Even in the United States, one of the largest countries in the world as of the year 2016, it is only at the Next Generation Medical Research Institute, built in a mountainous suburban area, that you could see such a beautiful sky. Frederick had been spending most of his time in the underground laboratory, day in and day out. There were certainly some people who were capable of secluded research in a dark underground laboratory, but for a scientist like Frederick, this kind of relaxation outdoors was sometimes necessary. 

"Oh, sure enough, he’s here again today! When you’re not in the lab I know I can always expect to find you in this spot, huh?"

A voice suddenly called out to him, and Frederick, lying down, raised his chin to look at the owner of the voice. It belonged to Aria Hale, a colleague of his who worked at the institute. She was morbidly slender even in her loose lab coat. But more than that, she was Frederick's irreplaceable girlfriend. Aria, with her short red hair tucked behind her ear, looked into Frederick's face and said, 

“Are you feeling stuck again?” 

“Wouldn't it be more meaningful to get some fresh air than to sit in the gloom at your desk? We’re not moles, we’re human beings, and humans need sunlight.”

“Why don't you just tell them you're taking a break then?”

With a wry smile on her face, Aria sat down next to Frederick. She noticed that he seemed to be getting a bit of cabin fever again.

“So, did you have any good ideas?”

“If I did, I’d be back in my lab by now.” 

Frederick lifted his upper body and sat down on the grass alongside Aria.

Is she…tired? 

Frederick thought, since she looked even more pale than usual.

“Are you doing alright?” 

“Yeah. But Asuka seems to be having a hard time with all the experiments he’s been doing.” 

"That's not what I'm asking. I'm worried about your…”

I'm worried about your health. Frederick was about to continue, but then stopped. Aria was suffering from an incurable disease, an infection in the temporoparietal junction of her brain, and did not have much time left. However, Aria had rejected the suggestion of being frozen in cryostasis until a cure could be established for her TP infection.

The "Ecosystem Enhancement Plan" was one of the major projects being carried out at the Next Generation Medical Research Institute. If the Gear cell research, which was the basis of the Gear Project, could be put to practical use in the human body, even in Aria's future…. The subject still lingered in Frederick’s mind. 

However, it was a conversation that had already been decided. Respecting the will of the woman who had decided to cherish the time she had left, the same woman who had once said, “To not die is not to be alive,” it wasn’t as simple as bringing it up again. 

“Don't look so worried, okay? I know exactly what's going on. I'm fine for now.” 

Aria smiled, somewhat sadly, as if she sensed the atmosphere.

“Alright. That’s good, but….” 

“Oh, but there’s one thing I’m not ok with.” 

Throwing off the heavy atmosphere with a light tone of voice, Aria kneeled down and rested her head on Frederick's lap. Then she looked up at his face and said, 

“Spending too much time with your girlfriend.” 

The dreamy smile made Frederick's eyes slowly rise to look at her, but he eventually lowered his shoulders in disapproval.

"I see…. If you can joke around then you must be okay."

"Oh, you're so quick to change the subject. Can't you just let your girlfriend heal you?"

“Stop it, you. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” 

Frederick ran his fingers through Aria's hair a couple of times, though he wasn’t in the mood for romance, and looked off into the distance. 

“Not when your boss, the embodiment of the modern American dream, is coming this way.” 

The scientist in white coming toward Frederick and Aria was a familiar man with white hair that hid his face from the sun. Asuka R. Kreutz. Although they were now part of different research teams, they had been working together on Gear cells for a long time, and Asuka was one of the most recognized talents in the United States. But at the same time, he was as important to Frederick as his girlfriend, Aria, was.

“Aria, not that I’m accusing you, but are you skipping out on your work?” 

“I'm sorry. I've been making time to come here.” 

Aria complained with a pout. However, as Asuka's assistant, she was still on the same research team as him, and with a sigh, she raised herself up from her kneeling position, knowing she had more important things to be working on than spending time with Frederick. 

“Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?”

Asuka came over and said apologetically, after seeing Aria get up. He, like Aria, also looked a little tired.

“If that's what you think, why don't you come back later?” 

“Well, don't say that. It's been a while since the three of us were together like this.”

Compared to the time when the three scientists had started their research on Gear cells as a team under the supervision and guidance of Professor Vince MacDonnell, their former mentor, the opportunities for them to get together had decreased significantly. Aria and Asuka may get to see each other every day, but Frederick, who had been transferred to a different team, felt nostalgic getting to see them after being unable to for more than ten days.

“Asuka, are you skipping class too?”

“If that was the case, it would make me feel better but… I wanted to get Frederick's opinion, and you weren’t in your lab, so I figured you would be out here.”

At those words, Frederick and Aria, who had just had a similar exchange a moment ago, looked at each other and smiled. Asuka tilted his head, curious. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No, don't worry about it. So, what's your business here?” 

Frederick asked, regaining his composure. The results of his research were constantly being reported to the institute's server. He had no idea that Asuka, the project chief of the entire Gear project, would ask him about it in person.

“I wanted to get a more detailed opinion from the person in charge of researching the altered branch of varga hectacine” 

Varga hectacine was a self-replicating, non-essential amino acid, and one of the components of Gear cells. The research that Frederick was currently in charge of was to transform and branch the cells during their growth process. Unfortunately, Frederick had reached an impasse, which was why he was taking a break.

“The latest report said that the alteration was stagnant under certain conditions, but the description of those specific conditions was pretty vague.” 

“I see. But unfortunately, we are still having a hard time reproducing that particular condition. Well, we've figured out about 60% of it.…”

“I'd like to hear what that 60% is.”

“Human error, I suppose.” 

“Frederick….” 

“It's not something that can be answered with confidence immediately.”

Asuka and Aria were both dismayed. Frederick snorted abruptly. 

“Just kidding. Anyway, I'm still in the middle of a replication experiment. I just don't have much more to say than what I’ve reported. So while I'm waiting for the results, I've got a lot of personal research to do.” 

“But if the stagnation of the altered branch of varga hectacine was a factor that could be artificially reproduced, such as a suppressive effect, then….” 

It could also lead to an accident in the Gear cell itself. Frederick knew the importance of what Asuka was trying to say.

“Even at this point, checking the conditions for altered stagnation is becoming quite complicated. It's not easy to reproduce.”

Fredrick said, raising his arms, yawning, and absent-mindedly standing up slowly. Then he looked at their tired faces and spoke with care.

“You don't feel like your research is going too smoothly either?”

“Not really.…” 

Asuka stated vaguely, then he put his hand on his forehead and reiterated. 

“No… You’re right. It’s not a very good situation.” 

Frederick, who belonged to a different team, didn't understand Asuka’s concerns. However, he knew that this unclear answer was not atypical of Asuka.

“Well, I'm sure there's a lot you can't tell me because it's classified. Don't take it too hard, you two. If you need it, I’m always here to help.”

“Thanks, Frederick. I can always count on you.” 

Asuka looked somewhat pained, and Aria had a helpless expression on her face. For some reason, the sight of the two of them staring at the ground in low spirits left a terrible impression on Frederick.

--

Chapter Index & Credits Page ・ Mobile Friendly Version Next Chapter: Chapter One 『ACCIDENT』

#guilty gear #guilty gear begin #my translations #guilty gear begin english translation

[survey--s]

609.

The last time you were in the fridge, what were you looking for? Iced coffee.

Do you like clowns? Nope. I'm not terrified of them or anything but they really do freak me out.

Have you answered all of these questions honestly so far? I mean, there have been two questions lol.

What’s the third text in your inbox? It's from Mike saying he needs new tyres on his car.

Are you listening to anything at the moment? I have Two and a Half Men on in the background and I can hear my own typing, the dryer and the dog snoring.

Do you twitch when you’re falling asleep? Yeah, all the time.

Are your dishes in the dishwasher clean or dirty? We don't own a dishwasher.

Are you at home or with friends more often? Home.

When is the last time you were on a bicycle? About six years ago.

What have you eaten today? Two slices of toast and a donut.

Would you date someone 15 years older than you? No, probably not.

Do you own a strapless bra? I'm sure I have one somewhere, yeah.

Does the person you like know it? Yes.

Did anything brighten up your day today? It was nice to have a lie in, but otherwise it's just been a pretty normal day so far. I slept in, had breakfast, walked the dog, bumped into Suzanne and Charlie, showered, did two loads of laundry, went to the shops, fed the animals and now I'm doing this.

How are you feeling at this exact moment? Kinda hungry, but otherwise I'm absolutely fine.

Are you someone who worries too often? Not so much anymore.

If you could date somebody who would it be? My husband, lol.

Do you ever wonder how other people see you? Sure, I know people judge me when I'm walking Archie and he's stressing out about other dogs.

What is one good thing you’re known for? Ironically, how good I am with other dogs haha.

How about one bad thing? I have no idea.

Are you taller than most? Most what? Most women, yes. Most people in general? No, I don't think so.

When was the last time you sang an ENTIRE song? Today in the shower.

Are you the type of person who likes to be out or home? I like both. I find being at home really relaxing and I recharge the best that way, but I can't spend too long indoors without getting out - otherwise I get cabin fever.

What time do you normally go to bed? 11 pm - 1 am. 

What is one thing that is currently bothering you? Nothing in particular, to be honest.

What did you do today? Oh, I kind of answered this already lol. I slept in until about 8.30am, did a load of laundry, vacuumed, had breakfast, walked the dog, came home, showered, did another load of laundry, went grocery shopping and fed the animals - now I'm doing this and watching TV.

Do you consider yourself to be attractive? I think I'm pretty average looking.

What was the last thing that you drank? Pepsi Max.

Is anything annoying you now? Not right this second, no.

Has anyone ever said i love you to you and not meant it? Yeah.

Do you regret going out with the last person you did? No.

Do you realise it when you curse? No, not always.

When was the last time you showered? About three hours ago when I got back from walking the dog.

Who did you last talk to in person? Suzanne.

Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? I always do SOMETHING, but yeah, I do have some properly lazy days at times, lol.

Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? Yes.

What is your favorite episode of True Life, if you have one at all? I've never seen it.

Have you ever experienced something paranormal? Nope, I don't really believe in that stuff.

What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? About 3-4 hours.

Best field trip experience? When we went to Paris for a week.

Have you ever been to New York City? Nope.

If so, is it all its cracked up to be? ...

What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Personally, about £30 per head but my dad once took Mike and I to a restaurant that was about £300 per person, not including alcohol.

What museums have you visited, if any? Too many to name. I was always dragged around museums as a kid.

Have you ever had a group project and one of your partners bailed on you? Sure, all the time. It's why I've always hated stuff like that.

What’s your worst travelling experience? Getting scammed in France I guess, but it was no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

Sims 1, 2, or 3? Why? The first one, I guess because it's what I grew up with along with all the expansion packs.

Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? Sure, but that's what happens when you live in terraced housing or apartments. You just deal with it.

Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? Probably my senior school tutor.

Best muffin you’ve ever had? I love a freshly baked blueberry muffin.

Have you ever taken a woodshop class? Yeah, we had to for a while in school.

How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? I'm logged into it all the time but I only really check it when I have a notification or want to upload something.

What area of math are you best at? Worst? I'm not good at any kind of maths, lol.

How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? I love it - most people I meet haven't heard of the stuff I like, ha.

What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? I honestly have no idea. The girl over the road from us walks her ferret sometimes, that's pretty weird.

Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? I mean, I think sometimes people get lucky, sure, but I don't think it happens for any particular reason.

How often do you “half-ass” things (put little effort in)? God, all the time hahah.

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Sometimes, yeah. I don't pick messy foods if I'm out in public as I'm pretty much guaranteed to spill it down my front LOL.

Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? Ohh yes.

How reliable is your internet connection? Generally it's fine but it has been going on/off a bit lately for some reason.

Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? Yeah, sure.

What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? Phone calls with people I don't know.

What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? I pulled multiple all-nighters at university.

If you don’t have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? I've been wearing glasses since I was seven years old.

If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn’t need them anymore? That would be AMAZING. Unfortunately, my prescription is too complicated for laser eye surgery so I'm just gonna have to live with them for now.

How many vegetarians do you know? Probably quite a few, but I don't really go around asking people things like that.

Have you ever considered going to art school? Nope.

Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? No. I don't really spend time with anyone like that.

How quickly can you write an essay? Depends on the subject and how long the essay has to be.

Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? Nope. I've never understood how people can do that.

Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? Yeah, a few times.

If you have a job, who is your least favorite coworker/manager? I'm self-employed.

Favorite episode of Spongebob? I couldn't pick a particular favourite. I like the ones with Squidward as the main focus.

Do you have any silly/odd emotional connections to anything/anyone? Sure, don't most people?

Are your parents supportive of you? They most certainly are.

How often do you take the train to go places? Never. Around here, it's MUCH quicker and cheaper to drive.

Do you play with your phone in awkward situations? I do when I'm like, waiting for an appointment or for a friend to come back from the toilet or something, but I try not to do it in company as it's pretty rude.

#survey #surveys

[daswarschonkaputt]

between the sheets ch 2 preview

Fandom: Kinnporsche | Pairing: Kinn/Porsche | Rating: E | AO3

A boyfriend can go so many places a bodyguard can’t. As the threat of a potential leak in their security forces looms large, Khun Korn hatches a plot to place an added layer of protection around his heir presumptive. Enter Porsche, former bartender, current bodyguard, and reluctant fake boyfriend of Kinn Theerapanyakul.

“I’ve said it before,” Pete says, “but you really do have balls of absolute steel, don’t you, Porsche?”

Porsche leans back on the bar top of Yok’s bar, watching Tankhun dance wildly with Arm and Pol. “Tankhun’s not that scary,” he says.

“Compared to Kinn, maybe,” Pete agrees. “Speaking of, does he know you’re here?”

Porsche shrugs, taking a sip of his glass of water. “You going to snitch on me?”

“Without hesitation,” Pete says.

“I left a note.”

Pete stares at him, somewhere between impressed and horrified. “Seriously, Porsche. Balls of steel.”

Porsche snorts. “Relax, Pete. It’s not a big deal. I’m not breaking any rules.” When the horror doesn’t leave Pete’s face, he puts his glass down on the bar, and turns to explain. “Since the incident, I’m not permitted to leave the Compound without a detail accompanying me, but because Kinn’s busy doing whatever the hell it is he’s up to these days, there aren’t enough men spare for me to be assigned my own security team. So, it’s fine, so long as I tag along with someone else in the family who has a detail. Like Tankhun.”

Pete keeps staring.

“Okay, c’mon. Cut that out. Kinn’s not going to kill you just because I’m a little wilful.”

“Did you—” Pete breaks off. “Porsche. Be honest. Did you get Tankhun to leave the estate just because you had—cabin fever, or something?”

Porsche picks up his glass of water to hide his smile.

“You’re insane. You’re the future husband of the Clan Leader, and you’re genuinely insane.”

Porsche laughs. “Hey, as your future boss, haven’t I earned a bit more respect than that?”

��Oh, my apologies, Khun Porsche. You’re fucking insane.” Porsche shoves him lightly. Pete shoves him back. “Where did Khun Kinn even find someone like you? You’re—”

“Not his type?” Porsche finishes.

“—unusual for a mafia moll.”

Pete and Porsche stare at each other.

“Did you just call me a moll?” Porsche asks.

“Shut up.”

“I will pay you good money to say that again to Kinn’s face,” Porsche says. “Ten grand. Right here, right now, if you use that word the next time you’re within five feet of Kinn. Twenty grand if Chan’s there too.”

“You really want him to kill me, huh?” Pete asks. “And what the hell did you mean, you’re not Khun Kinn’s type? Who said that to you?”

Porsche shakes his head.

“Seriously, Porsche, Khun Kinn will flip his shit if he hears people talking about you like that,” Pete says. “If it’s a bodyguard, it’s better that you tell me so I can deal with it without getting him involved.”

“Is it untrue?” Porsche asks.

Pete hesitates.

Porsche smiles pointedly at him.

Pete exhales. “Look, Porsche, yes, it’s true that Khun Kinn’s usual tastes in, uh—”

“Whores?”

“—partners,” Pete goes on, “are a bit—different, to you, but you must have noticed that the way people treated you changed after the product launch.”

“Sure,” Porsche agrees easily.

“That’s because you almost died, and you stuck around afterwards,” Pete says. “Khun Kinn values loyalty above all else. Appearance, voice, mannerisms, all of that’s—irrelevant. It’s clear to anyone who’s paying any attention that he cares for you, very deeply.”

There haven’t been many times, since he started this ridiculous charade with Kinn, that Porsche has felt bad about lying. But something about that sentence – he cares for you, very deeply – sinks like a stone in his gut. It takes Porsche a long time to figure out that the weight in his stomach is loneliness.

He cares for you, very deeply. What a fucking joke.

#fic: between the sheets #kinnporsche fic #kaputt writes stuff #porsche really goes thru it this chapter and next i'm sorry guys #pete: ride or die?? no thank you i like my life #did i write this scene just so i could use the word ''moll''? #maybe #i amuse myself and that's all that matters

[problemsandsituations]

Getcha Life!

Amina and I are sitting in my living room watching the news together. They’re talking about the incident at Rafferty’s again. After the police investigated further, they found that nothing was stolen, just badly damaged. Whoever did it wanted to make sure Rafferty’s wouldn’t be in operation for quite a while. Sadly, they succeeded. Several members of the community have volunteered to help rebuild Rafferty’s free of charge. As traumatic as this incident has been, it’s shown us how much our community truly loves us.

“Ugh, I just wanna go back to work already! Sitting around doing nothing is killing me!” Amina sighs, tossing a chip into her mouth.

“I thought you were enjoying my company,'' I reply jokingly. I know exactly how Amina’s feeling. It’s been almost two months since Rafferty’s was vandalized; both of us have been out of work this entire time. The first few weeks of free time was fun, but now we’re starting to suffer from cabin fever.

“We could go down by the water again,” I suggest.

“It’s the same water we been lookin’ at since we were kids. There’s nothin’ new over there,” Amina replies. My next suggestion is that we go out for lunch. Amina reminds me that we both agreed to save our money. We don’t know when Rafferty’s is gonna open back up so every penny counts. My last suggestion is to take a walk. That’s the only thing I can think of that we haven’t done yet and also won’t cost us a dime. Amina agrees, so we grab our jackets and head out. As we walk we play a few rounds of “Would You Rather?”.

“Would you rather your shirts always be two sizes too big or one size too small?” Amina asks me.

“Two sizes too big. It’s more comfortable and I could always tie them up,” I answer. “Would you rather have all your private photos leaked or never be able to use a cell phone again?”

Amina shudders and looks away for a moment, then answers. “I can go without my phone. Some things just aren’t for the world to see.” I can’t argue with that.

“I got a good one! Would you rather be able to dodge anything at any speed, or be able to ask any three questions and have them answered truthfully?” Amina asks me.

“I’d ask the three questions,” I reply quickly.

“Really? You wouldn’t wanna go all matrix on any object? At any speed? Wack!” Amina teases.

“Whatever! My turn. Would you rather be roommates with me or move back in with your folks forever?” I ask.

“Too easy, I’d move in with you...but only if you’d have me,” Amina answers.

“Of course I would Mina! It would be like a sleepover everyday!”

“Well, if we don’t get back to work soon I might really have to take you up on that offer,” Amina says sadly. Before either of us can wallow for too long, Amina asks her next question. “Would you rather be married to Rasul but have lousy sex, or be stuck in the friendzone with Jeff and have great sex?”

“What kind of question is that?” I ask.

“One you gotta answer,” she replies.

“I’d marry Rasul,” I answer.

“And have lousy sex?” Amina asks.

“Yes! Why would I want anything to do with Jeff?” I reply. There’s nothing that could ever make me want Jeff again, and after I ruined his date, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anything to do with me. All of a sudden my phone starts to ring.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” I show Amina who’s calling me before answering.

“Hey, uh, I saw what happened at Rafferty’s. I’m sorry to hear about your misfortune.” It’s Jeff on the other end.

“Thanks Jeff,” I reply dryly.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t call when it first happened because I figured you didn’t wanna hear from me,” he tells me.

“And what makes you think I wanna hear from you now?” I ask him.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he replies with a sigh.

“Oh now you wanna be nice,” I scoff.

“Look, I didn’t call you to argue. If you need anything let me know,” he offers.

“The only thing I need is for you to leave me alone,” I tell Jeff before hanging up on him. Amina and I walk around for about another hour, then go back to my place.

The next day, Amina and I pay Marge a visit to see how she’s doing. Just like us, she’s been sitting at home waiting for updates.

“I still can’t believe somebody did this,” Marge says. “Why would somebody wanna ruin my family’s shop? Our life’s work!”

“You gotta be a sick individual to destroy an old woman’s only livelihood. No offense Marge,” Amina adds.

“None taken darlin’,” Marge replies.

“And that note they left behind, what was that about?” I chime in. Marge and Amina both look at me, confused. “Y’all don’t know about the note?” I ask. I tell them about the note I found and how I gave it to the police.

“Ya did the right thing,” Marge tells me. “I hope whoever did this goes down and goes down hard. Business stopped but the bills are still rollin’ in. I don’t know how we’re gonna stay afloat.” She paces the floor and lights a cigarette. It’s heartbreaking seeing Marge sad and stressed out like this. I wish there was something we could do…maybe there is something we can do!

“Let’s bring back open mic night!” I suggest excitedly. “Hear me out. We bring back open mic night but have it outside, in the parking lot. We can spread the word all over town, charge a small fee for admission; we could even have a few vendors.”

Amina loves my idea and is immediately on board. Marge, on the other hand, needs a little more convincing.

“I don’t know girls. What if nobody shows up?” she asks.

“This community wants to see Rafferty’s reopen just as much as we do, if not more. They’re gonna show up,” I assure her.

“And what we not ‘bout to do is sit here and act like we don’t need the money,” Amina adds. After considering our points of view, Marge agrees with the idea. We tell her not to worry about a thing and immediately get to work.

The next day, we dedicate all of our time to promoting Rafferty’s open mic fundraiser. We get flyers made and pass them out all over town. A few shop owners even ask us for copies to give to their customers. With our diligence and their help, it doesn’t take long for the word to get around. Over the next two weeks, people contact us left and right, signing up to perform or to be a vendor. Some local merchants even donated their sound equipment to us free of charge! Moments like this make me proud to be a citizen of this town.

“It’s amazing how fast this all came together. Marge is gonna be so happy,” Amina tells me. I agree without a doubt in my mind.

Finally the day has come for Rafferty’s open mic fundraiser. Amina and I are excited; Marge is a ball of nerves. She’s never done anything like this before. She’s never had to. We keep her calm by reassuring her that things will work out just fine.

Our stage is set up in the middle of the parking lot with chairs surrounding it on every side. The vendors are all around the perimeter of the parking lot. Our DJ is set up next to the stage, ready to play his tunes. Amina convinces me to open the show again. I choose to sing something that I’m sure will lift everyone’s spirits: “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey. As expected, everyone loves it! No one can resist a classic like that. I look around the parking lot as I sing and even Rasul is on his feet, smiling and nodding his head to the music. I feel the unity in the air; it’s a beautiful thing.

Amina and I host the show together and take turns announcing performers. Once everyone on our list has performed, we open it up to everyone else. The DJ plays a few songs to give people some time to decide. We also use that time to take a break.

“You good girl?” Amina asks me.

“Yeah, I’m great! This is going so well,” I tell her.

“And just look at Marge. I think we made her day,” she replies. I look over and see Marge standing at the DJ booth smiling and swaying back & forth to the music. It’s truly heartwarming. I turn to my left and see Rome approaching us. He looks nervous, but that’s nothing new.

“Hey Rome! Good to see you,” I happily greet him.

“Hey ladies. You both look lovely,” he says to us.

“Thanks, um…” Amina tries to remember Rome’s name but can’t. I quietly remind her. “Rome! Thank you Rome,” she repeats.

“You’re very welcome,” Rome replies, then turns to me. “I’d like to perform,” he says nervously.

“Really? Awesome! What are you gonna do?” I ask him.

“Share a poem. I wrote it about a special somebody,” he tells me.

“Nice! Are you ready to go now?”

“Yeah. I should probably do it now before I back out.”

The DJ turns his music down as I take the stage to announce Rome.

“Alright alright everybody, we have a new face coming to the stage! His name is Rome; he’ll be sharing his poetry with us. Y’all make him feel welcome.” The audience stands and claps as Rome mounts the stage.

“H- how y’all doin’ this afternoon? My name is Romelius Clarke. At first I wasn’t gonna share anything, but I wrote this poem on the fly. I saw a lovely lady here today who gave me a little inspiration,” he says, looking in mine and Amina’s direction. We look at each other, confused as to who he’s referring to. Before we can try to figure it out, Rome starts reciting his poem.

“Eyes like the sun

Lips like a rose

Cool like the breeze

With a heart full of gold

These feelings for her I just can’t control

I yearn for her heart, her mind and her soul

I’ll never let go if she lets me take hold

I’ll try not to hurt her and turn her heart cold

Will it be the real thing or a bad romance?

We’ll only find out if she gives me the chance.”

Rome receives a standing ovation as he leaves the stage. Who knew shy ol’ Rome had that in him? I’m impressed! No one else volunteers to perform, so the DJ plays his music while everyone mingles.

“Rome, you were amazing! That poem was beautiful,” I tell him.

“A beautiful poem for a beautiful woman,” he responds with a shy smile. “I just hope she enjoyed it.”

“What woman wouldn’t enjoy that? I’m sure she’s impressed, whoever she is,” I assure him.

“My granddad will be so proud when I tell him about this. I’m gonna go tell him now, I’ll catch up with you later!”

“Alright, see ya Rome!”

As usual, Amina appears to give her two cents. “Did you enjoy your poem, lovely lady?” she asks, looking at me over her glasses.

“That poem was not about me, Mina,'' I tell her.

“Who else would it be about? He looked right at you!”

“He looked at us.”

“I’ve never seen someone in so much denial,” Amina says, shaking her head at me.

The smile on my face quickly fades away as I see Mayor Buchanan arrive. Amina sees the grimace on my face and begs me not to make a scene again. I look at her and she’s gone pale in the face.

I watch in disgust as the mayor makes his rounds, greeting everyone he sees. He stops at every vendor’s table and holds a short conversation with each vendor while one of his interns slides a small flyer onto their table. This man thinks he’s so slick. Amina sits down behind me in a chair. She’s trying not to show how nervous she is, but I can see it clearly. If she had something to cover herself with, I’m sure she’d be fully hidden right now. The DJ starts playing, “Wobble” by V.I.C. and Mayor Buchanan hits the dancefloor along with his team. One of his interns manages to sneak away. It’s the same girl I saw smiling at me the other day. She’s slowly making her way towards me. She’s skinny, about 5’6”, light skinned with freckles and long, curly brown hair, all natural. Once she finally makes it over to me, I greet her with a smile.

“I had to make a break for it while I could,” she says with a laugh. “I’m Farren. Farren Conner.”

“Nice to meet you, Farren.” I reach out and shake her hand.

“The way you handled Buchanan last time we were here was so brave. I’ve never seen anybody talk to him like that,” she tells me. I kindly thank her. Farren looks behind me and notices Amina’s demeanor. “Is she okay?”

“She will be once Buchanan gets out of here. Something about his presence makes her clam up like that,” I explain. Farren walks over to Amina and asks if she can talk to her. Amina nods her head and the two of them walk away together. Much to my dismay, Mayor Buchanan finally makes his way over to where I am.

“Well look who’s staying quiet and out of the way,” he says arrogantly.

“Returning to the scene of your crime?” I ask with a fake smile.

“Excuse me? I don’t know what you mean,” he responds. I step closer to him and whisper, “I know you had something to do with what happened, and as soon as I find out, Imma make sure you go down.” One of his skinny male interns steps in between us in an attempt to protect Buchanan.

“Have any of you seen Farren?” Buchanan asks his team. They all look around, confused.

“She’s talking to Amina,” I answer.

“I knew I should have kept an eye on her!” Buchanan frantically starts looking around as his team disperses to find Farren and Amina. His sudden anxiety definitely raises an eyebrow, but I don’t care enough to think about it too much. I see a vendor selling handmade jewelry so I make my way over to check it out. As I’m walking, Rasul spots me and walks over with me.

“I saw the mayor botherin’ you just now,” he mentions.

“I can’t stand him,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Speaking of men you can’t stand,” Rasul nods his head to the right. I look over and see Jeff walking around. This time he’s alone.

“They just keep rolling in,” I laugh sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, I got you. Come dance with me,” he suggests, holding out his hand.

“What? What is dancing gonna do?” I ask.

“Make you feel better…and make him jealous,” Rasul says with a smile. How can I say no to that? I take his hand and follow him to the dance floor. The DJ is playing one of my favorite songs, “Stay” by Ne-Yo. As we dance along to the music I forget all about Jeff. That is, until I see him staring in my direction. The look on his face is priceless!

“I think your plan is working,” I tell Rasul over the music.

“See, I know what I’m doing,” he replies with a wink. I’m enjoying this dance with Rasul so much that I don’t even bother to see if Jeff is still around. Honestly, I didn’t think Rasul could dance at all. He never participated at any school dance. He and his boys would always stand on the wall and watch all the girls twerk. I always stood on the wall too; no one ever asked me to dance with them. If my younger self could see me now, I’m sure she’d be surprised.

At first there’s some space between me and Rasul. As the song plays on, we get a little closer. By the end of the song, Rasul’s arms are wrapped around me and I can feel his body on mine. I’m in my own happy world right now, just soaking up this moment. As the song fades into the next, the feel of Rasul’s “nature” brings me back to reality. I pretend not to notice, but I think he knows I felt it.

[frannyzooey]

The Storm

Ezra x Frankie Morales x Din Djarin x f!reader - The Cabin Universe

rating: explicit - foursome, cum play, possessive dirty talk, piv, oral (both m and f receiving), probably OOC everyone, based on the book “Credence” by Penelope Douglas. I literally have nothing to say for myself - this is pure, indulgent filth for my bestie.  

a/n: this is dedicated to my whoreo @krissology for her birthday today! You are the literal best in so many ways and I know you have high hopes for this, so I hope it delivers! I love you!

--

You don’t even know how it started. 

Well, that’s not true, you did. 

You just never imagined you would ever find yourself in the middle of something like this - something so sinful, so filthy, so decedent. Like a fever dream or a late night fantasy, your fingers working your soaked clit under the sheets as you tried to cum to the image conjured by your hungry mind. 

This wasn’t a dream - though the blurred outline of your thoughts right now made it feel like it, the sliding of your coherent mind into a deep pit of lust, your inhibitions lost in the darkness - this was real life. 

A real cabin. 

Real men.

Three, in fact. 

You couldn’t sleep. An ache gnawing at your gut as you shifted restlessly in bed, one that had been ever present for weeks now since you moved into the cabin with them. It’s one you thought you’d just have to live with even if it would eventually drive you insane because how could you choose, especially between three brothers?

Ezra: the eldest of the three, taking you under his wing immediately upon seeing how unprepared you were for the harsh winter in your neighboring cabin and you had noticed immediately the way his eyes lingered on you while trying to keep his tone light and polite. 

He’s been teaching you to fish, to hunt, to survive a winter as brutal and unforgiving as the one you are about to face and the heat between you has been building during each one of these lessons. He’s always so close, his soothing cadence right in your ear, his hands always guiding you, teaching you and you can tell he wants to succumb to the want pulling the two of you together but is torn between holding onto a semblance of responsibility, arguing with himself that it wouldn’t be right to take advantage of you like this while you’re stuck in their cabin.

He’s trying so hard to be a good man, but you wonder what it would be like if he just let go and took what he’s been wanting. 

Frankie: your sunshine, your friend, the one you get along with the best. He’s been warm and welcoming from the beginning, even more so than his brother.

His sweet cheeked face with those loose curls drew you in, his teasing and his good nature pulling you closer and the way the crinkles around his eyes deepen when he smiles just for you makes you ache, the breadth of his shoulders and his scent when you tuck your face into the nape of his neck during snowmobile rides even more. 

You know what he wants, have seen the way he looks at you when you borrow one of his shirts or when you slip out of the bathroom in just a towel, but you also know he’s waiting to hear you say it. 

Din: you actually thought he hated you, with how he had treated you in the beginning. Sometimes indifferent, sometimes cold, sometimes bordering on resentment and disgust with the looks that flashed across his handsome, dark face but something about his looks lately had made you think differently. 

He’s been watching you now with something akin to want, if you had to pin it down; a longing for...something, you aren’t quite sure what and if you peered into the deepest part of your soul, you’re pretty sure you would find that you wanted him the most. His intensity scares you though, makes you afraid for what he might do to you, what you might feel if you let yourself give in and so you’ve kept your distance, avoiding his gaze whenever it was (always) pinned on you. 

These thoughts swirling in your head just like the snow outside, you had come downstairs to watch the storm through the picture window in the living room. Maybe drink some tea while you watched the fat, crystalized flakes drift lazily down through the air but were surprised when you saw them awake themselves, watching TV. 

Frankie had made room for you on the couch, patting the cushion next to him with a friendly, tired smile as he took in your bare legs below your sleep shorts and when you sat down, you had let your gaze flit over to Din - the light of the TV illuminating his features as he watched you from a chair by the fire. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”, Frankie had asked, turning his head to face you and when you looked at him, you could feel his warm breath skimming across your mouth, his eyes dropping down to look at it. 

It had started just like that - an innocent question followed by a couple more, one of them “is this okay?” before he leaned forward to kiss you and even though Din was sitting right there in the room, you couldn’t help how you immediately gave into his warm, lush mouth. 

You were so tired of fighting it, tired of hearing them bring other girls home to fuck in their rooms while you heard the moans through the walls, tired of how much you wished it were you and so you took that kiss. And another. Another. 

Your hand rested on his cheek, pulling him closer as you shifted to face him and the soft sound in the back of your throat at how he tasted made him bolder, his hands gripping your hips to guide you onto your back into the couch. 

His solid, firm body settling on top of yours with a weighted grind of his hips, he kissed a hot, open mouthed trail along the side of your neck to taste what he’s been wanting for weeks and your face tilted towards Din; the snow outside falling, falling, falling. 

You could see how hard he was through his pants, his hand settling on top of his cock with a squeeze through the thin material while he watched the two of you on the couch and the lewd heft of it outlined in fabric made your mouth water, made your fingers itch to touch it. 

You found yourself crooking your finger at him, beckoning him closer because even though Frankie had you pinned on the couch underneath him, you still couldn’t choose. 

Din getting up to come closer, Frankie slipped his fingers between your bodies to cup you firmly between your legs, the thick digits digging hungrily into your pussy through your sleep shorts and when he felt the damp fabric slide under his hold, he whispered “show us something wet, baby.” 

The words made you close your eyes with a moan, a rush of slick leaking as you fluttered around nothing and his fingers worked their way under the fabric, dipping the pads of them just inside you as he rested his nose against your chest with a groaned fuck. 

They had peeled off your shorts together, Din helping you sit up so he could tug your shirt over your head and the way the two of them were moving together, it was almost like they were one unit. a shared mind; Frankie voicing din’s thoughts out loud. 

“He wants a taste, baby”, Frankie told you, his hands pulling your thighs open while Din made his way between them. “Will you let him?”

Before you could answer, Din lowered his head to give your hip a kiss. 

A delicate one, much softer than he looked like he would give before laving his tongue over the hardened bone and then he looked up at you and held your gaze before dragging his teeth over it, ending it with a sharp bite. 

“Din!”, you cried out, reaching your hands down to stop him and Frankie caught them in his grip, gently pinning them above your head. Your soft sound of protest was caught by his mouth when he lowered it to you, his lips meeting yours the second Din’s met your cunt. 

Your fingers curled above your head, holding tight onto nothing as Din parted you with his tongue and you rocked your hips into the wet heat of his mouth, seeking relief. He did it again, a slow, thick lick upwards to settle against your clit before circling it, another one just to make you whine into Frankie's mouth and you tensed your thighs around his cheeks, his sparse beard catching on the soft skin. 

Frankie licked your mouth open, stealing the air from your lungs with how hard he was kissing you, his weight pushed into the hold of your wrists and when he pulled back to palm himself over his pants, he grinned at how dazed your eyes looked when they instantly dropped to watch. 

Your lips were swollen and perfect, your gaze fixed on the thick ridge of his cock as he stroked it through his pants and you slid your tongue along your lower lip and moaned when you watched him slowly undo his belt buckle with one hand. 

Working the button open of his jeans open and tugging the zipper down, he pulled himself out and his cock, heavy and hard between his thighs, was so much better than you had been dreaming about; Din’s mouth making you close your eyes on the perfect sight. 

“Fuck his mouth”, Frankie ordered above you, his fingers gathering milky drips of precome before sliding his hold down the stiff length, fucking his fist inches from your mouth. His dark eyes took in your writhing body on the couch as you did what he said. “Fuck his mouth like I’m gonna fuck yours.”

Your eyes flew open, his hand releasing it’s hold on yours and when you reached to circle your fingers around him, he let out a deep groan of content, settling his hand over the top of it to help you stroke. 

The weight of his cock fit your in your grip perfectly, your mouth watering with it so close to your lips right now and he sought the warmth of it out, pushing his hips forward to slide the thick tip of it along your bottom lip until you opened up. 

You could barely concentrate on sucking it, your tongue smoothing over the underside, gliding a circle around the velvety, rounded head while Din’s tongue did the same to your clit and you when you moaned around Frankie's cock, he gave you a little more. And then a little more. 

Inch by inch, a push forward before a pull back and you tried to work what you couldn’t fit in your mouth in your hand, rewarded with a salty spurt on the back of your tongue. 

“You look so fucking good like this. I knew you would”, he groaned, his large hand cupping underneath your chin to help you open up wider and as he pushed deeper inside the wet cavern of your mouth, you gagged on the thickness of him, the stretch, the heavy weight. 

“Take a little at a time, baby”, he murmured, brushing your hair back from your forehead as he let you pull off to catch your breath and glistening strings of saliva coated him, matching the one dripping down your chin right now. 

“Fuck”, you strained breathlessly, arching off the worn couch into Din’s mouth as he spread you wider with his fingers before licking a wide stripe up through your soaked, sensitive folds and you could feel the way your cunt clenched around nothing, his tongue now tracing the hole of your entrance before pushing inside. “Keep -- please, yes.”

He had never been so hungry for a cunt in his life, never felt like he would die if he didn’t make it come right now on his face and the need for it only grew with how much you begged for it, your fingers sliding through his curls to tug him closer. He would happily die here, his mouth buried in your drenched center, his nose brushing over your clit as he nuzzled his face deeper and your moans were suddenly muted, the muffled sound covered by Frankie's deeper groan as he slid back into your mouth. 

Din wanted to hear you, but he also knew that Frankie needed you just as much, so he splayed his hand open along the inside of your thigh and pushed - gently enough to open you up wider for him, but firm enough to keep you in place. 

One hand on Frankie's ass, your fingers digging into the soft flesh to push him deeper into your mouth, the other hand buried in Din’s hair to pull him closer and you were gone - your body moving in tandem with them, mindless with pleasure.

They were gonna make you come - you didn’t know if it was more Din’s mouth or the weight of Frankie on your tongue or the idea of them both, having you like this and getting their fill - but you could feel it building in your core; slick dripping into Din’s eager mouth. 

Your thighs started to tremble, your belly clenching, the peaks of your breasts hardened points with how much they ached to be touched and it’s like they could sense it because you suddenly felt the reassuring weight of their hands settle on you; one breast each with a possessive squeeze. 

“You're ours”, Frankie chanted above you, the muscles of his ass tensing under your hold as his cock swelled in your mouth. “It’s gonna be like this all winter. Your pussy is ours to fuck. Your mouth, your ass --”

He knew Din wanted that last one, wanted to hear it too and the groan that crawled out of Din’s chest into his throat vibrated into your cunt, the feeling of it tipping you closer to the edge. 

You sucked harder, your hold on Frankie's cock tightening along with your mouth and he curled over the top of you, his hand braced on the back of the couch as he started to come. 

“Fuck -- you feel so fucking good. Keep going, baby. I’m gonna fill your mouth--”, the strained words slid into a deep groan as he did it, a thick spurt of cum splashing along the back of your tongue before quickly filling your mouth and the salty tang of it made you crave more, your hand pumping him to get every last drop. 

You were so close, so goddamn close to coming you could taste it, Din’s tongue relentless against your clit right now with quick licks and when he started to suck on it, you tried to curl into the feeling, but Frankie held you down. 

“Make her come, Din”, he said, his breathing still heavy above you, his cock softening on your tongue. “Make her cum so you can fuck her. I want to --”

“What is this?”

Ezra's voice startled you, Frankie sliding out of your mouth while Din ignored it and you watched Ezra come closer, Din shoving his pants down to free his cock. 

“Birdie, look at you.” Ezra's voice was a reverential drawl, a hush that darkened as he slowly knelt next to the couch to drink you in and it’s like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch first, so he touched nothing. 

His dark eyes roamed your nude body, the urge to cover yourself disappearing completely when you felt the blunt, rounded tip of Din’s cock sliding up through your soaked folds before he guided it down, down, down to rest against your tight ring of muscle. 

“Don’t”, you frowned, wishing the word sounded more firm than it did. “I don’t want that - not yet. I --”

You didn’t have to explain yourself to him, though his stern expression told you what he wants will happen eventually and he positioned himself back at your entrance before sliding all the way in down to the base in one swift, filling push forward. 

“Yes”, you breathed, your eyes slipping shut as Frankie shifted to kneel by your head, guiding your face to his. He kissed you just to taste himself thick on your tongue, Ezra's dam finally breaking as he ripped his pants open to pull himself out.  He circled your wrist to bring your hand to his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and just like always, he showed you how to do it; his broad hand engulfing yours. 

Din reached for your other hand, your thighs cradling his hips as he pushed into you over, over, over and your fingers entwined - something deeper felt in his hold; something he couldn’t say with words. It was like he was holding your hand to anchor you, but it was really more for himself - the firm squeeze a reminder that he is here with you, that you were his even though the three of them were with you. 

You briefly wondered what you must look like from above, these three men possessively crouched over your body, devouring you, claiming you for themselves while you begged for it. Like predator and prey almost, or like demons and an angel, they had plucked you from your existence and pulled you down with them. 

You were never going to make it out of this without being forever marked by them; something they were working hard to do now with the bruising grip they had on your skin, the way Din’s hands held you in place as fucked into you, the way Ezra filled your head with his soothing words, the way Frankie kissed you until you couldn’t think.

“Do you feel what you do to me, birdie? Do you feel how much I’ve wanted you?”, Ezra said above you, his head tipped back to the ceiling with a filthy groan while his hand worked yours faster under his grip. The words were a callback to the ones he uttered in the kitchen earlier that day, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear, his cock pressed against the curve of your ass before you were interrupted by Frankie. 

“How much we all want you”, Frankie continued, his lips dragging against your temple, his broad hands splayed over your breasts, palming the weight of them with a squeeze. “We aren’t ever going to let you leave, baby. This is how it’s going to be every day.”

“Din”, you cried out, your ankles tightening over his lower back and his hand flexed in yours, a wordless I’m here, I’m here. “I’m gonna come, please --”

You knew the others were in the room, could feel them next to you, had felt them seeping into your being since the day you walked through that door, but with the way he was fucking you, Din was commanding all your attention, like he was the only one. You and him. 

“Keep fucking her, keep fucking going, because Jesus --”, Ezra could barely get the words out before he came, ropes of cum splashing hot on your stomach, the milky liquid pooling on your skin. 

He didn’t even give it time to cool before he swiped his fingers through it, immediately seeking out your clit where it was nestled just above the stretch of you around Din’s cock and the second he touched it, you were lost completely. 

It’s too much - Frankie's mouth now on your neck, your face tilted to press into his soft curls with a broken moan, Ezra's skillful fingers working, working, working in slick circles while he sucks the peak of your breast into his mouth and Din’s hips pounding into yours, a soft grunt for every push inside. 

You are going to come and you should be embarrassed about how open you are right now, how exposed, how filthy you must look with cum smeared on your chin and stomach, but you can’t -- not when they are making you feel this wanted, this adored. Not when you feel the hunger they have for you; the need. 

Your body is buzzing, the tingling spreading through your hips and down, creeping up through your chest, hardening your nipples as Ezra twirls his tongue around one and strokes the other and you reach to grab onto anything; your restless fingers finding purchase on din’s thigh and Frankie's hair. 

If they froze when you came you might have been able to take it, but they didn’t - your soaked cunt pulling Din deeper, your fingers digging into his thigh as your hips locked up with a stutter, your moan filling the high beamed room as the silent snow piled up outside and they still kept going, burying you deeper and deeper, just like the storm outside. 

In a minute, Din will come inside you, staking a claim on your cunt for the others to see. He’ll pick your limp, sated, sleepy body up off the couch and carry you into the shower, where he’ll let you rest your cheek against his firm chest as his soapy hands caress your skin, washing away the way they marked you. 

He’ll kiss you, his hand curled possessively around the nape of your neck as he guides you backwards into the cool tile, tugging your knee up around his hip, making sure you know you’re his and making sure the others know it too by the sounds he’ll pull out of you that will echo in the small stall.

But that’s in a minute. 

Right now you’re still falling, buried under these men and this storm, suspended in this moment just like the swirling flakes of snow outside. 

It’s going to be a long winter. 

--

tagging CC: @highsviolets @javierpcna @javier-pena​ @charnelhouse​ @djarinsbeskar​ @astroboots​ @silksaddle​ @krissology​ @loversandantiheroes​ @thirstworldproblemss​

#din djarin #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #ezra prospect #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin/reader #frankie morales/you #din djarin/you #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/reader #frankie catfish morales/you #frankie catfish morales/reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect/you #the mandalorian #pedro pascal