#High&Low fanfic

[hyugaruma]

H&L: Sweet Things They Say To You

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re: how they show you they love you with their words…

hmmm idk how happy i am with this one but it’s been sitting in my notes for a minute soooo OH WELL

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Cobra: “I will forever fight for you and with you.” His lip is busted and his face is bruised. You can feel the way your heart clenches at seeing him battered from the fight he just partook in, some goons having thought it a good idea to harass you outside of ITOKAN Diner. Luckily your boyfriend had arrived just in time. Despite his marred state, he holds your gaze so that you know that he’s true to his word, and all you can do is nod.

The Mugen way of devotion and loyalty easily translates to Cobra in a relationship. He would literally die for you. Your fights are his fights. However, he tries his hardest to keep you out of his, and Sannoh’s, fights. He can’t imagine how he could live with himself if something happened to you.

Rocky: “I’ve waited my whole life to meet you.” Rocky softly places a hand on the small of your back, pulling you in close so he can bury his face in your neck. You can feel the tension in his shoulders dissipate at finally having you in his arms after an arduous day at Club Heaven. You respond by wrapping your arms around him to pull him in even closer. No other words are needed; just having you at his side is all he could ever ask for.

Rocky wholeheartedly means the words he says. He isn’t one to so easily dedicate himself to one person; he has many women to protect, after all. But the moment he meets you, he can’t even begin to imagine the way it was before. He was so lonely without ever having realized it.

Murayama: “I can’t wait to see you again.” Murayama is reluctant to release the grasp his hand has on your own, wasting as much time as possible standing with you outside your house after your date together. You can’t help but giggle at the obvious ploy, leaning in to land a chaste kiss on his cheek that sends the tips of his ears pink. He’s quick to pull you back in once you try to pull away, this time to land a playful kiss of his own on your lips.

Murayama lives to spend time with you. Right after he drops you off at your house after hanging out all day, he’s already texting you how much he misses you and trying to make plans as soon as possible. If you’d allow it, he would see you every day if possible. He’d never grow tired of you.

Smoky: “Thank you for choosing me.” The two of you sit side-by-side at the ledge of a deconstructed factory building, looking out at Nameless City laid out beneath you. You look to him, and he’s giving you a gentle, almost sad, smile. You can’t even imagine a world where you wouldn’t choose him, but somewhere swimming in those brown eyes of his is a self-doubt that you hope someday can be remedied. You give him a smile back, one that says you feel the exact same way.

Smoky can’t even comprehend why someone like you, someone so amazing, would choose someone like him. He really doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. Surely there’s someone out there who could give you more than he ever could, at least so he thinks. But, you did choose him, and he is forever thankful to have you by his side.

Hyuga: “Thank you for putting up with me.” Hyuga is sprawled out on the futon that the two of you share, watching as you change into your pajamas to settle down for the night. His eyes show a softness that he reserves only for you. He holds out a hand to beckon you to him, and you oblige, crawling into the futon to situate yourself between his lazy arms. He can’t help but land a light kiss on your temple before pulling you close to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Hyuga knows he’s not a perfect man. Far from it, even. He can’t imagine why you’re so willing to continue dealing with his ways, but he hopes you’ll continue to do so for a long, long while. If he could ask for one selfish wish, it would be to have you as his for the rest of his time on this earth.

Hiroto: “I’m always here for you.” Hiroto stands awkwardly in the doorway of your apartment as he eyes you closely. He can tell that something has been bothering you, but that you were reluctant to confide in him about your problems. You raise your eyes to meet his gaze and find nothing but complete honesty and truth within them. Feeling your own eyes begin to mist over, you opt to dropping your head to his chest to hide your show of emotions. A hand comes up to gently rest against the back of your neck, and to attempt to soothe your worries away.

Hiroto isn’t a man of many overtly affectionate words or gestures. He tends to show his love through action. But, he does want you to know that he would do anything for you. If you ever have a problem, he hopes that he’ll be the first person you come to, even if it’s just you needing a listening ear.

Ice: “I love every little thing about you.” Ice’s fingertips ghost delicately across your cheek and down your jaw, touch so soft it’s as if he’s afraid you might disappear right before his very eyes. He wears his signature shades, but you can still see the way his eyes admire you, flitting between your eyes to your nose to your lips, an affectionate reverence for each and every part of you. His hand rests on your neck as his thumb softly caresses your chin, and he can’t help the smile of complete adoration that overtakes him.

When Ice says he loves every little thing, he isn’t exaggerating. All your flaws and quirks, he wouldn’t give a single one of them up. He’s a man who accepts you completely and wholly. And he would spend the rest of his life ensuring that you see yourself in the light that he sees you in.

Jesse: “I love when you smile.” Jesse flops down on top of you lying down on the bed, resting his chin against your abdomen as he looks up at you with a cheeky, yet genuine, smile. In turn, you move your hand to brush through his blonde locks, and he leans fervently into your touch. You can feel the deep exhale he lets out. Jesse pushes himself up, hoisting himself to be positioned above you so that he’s now looking down at you. His own hand finds itself entangling with your hair, his eyes glued to that sweet, sweet smile on your lips.

Jesse isn’t someone who shows his affections through words, but nothing in the world makes his heart swell more than seeing your genuine smile. Especially if he was the cause of it. Your smile can instantly turn even his sourest of moods around. He spends his days chasing after the high of basking in your joy and happiness.

Ryu: “You’re my forever.” Ryu stands behind you, watching you from the mirror as you get ready to go out to dinner together. His hands find themselves snaking down to your hips, and his chin resting dutifully on your shoulder. He watches your shy reactions through the reflection, and the tiny smile that you can’t seem to hold back. His arms tighten as he pulls your back against his chest. You can feel his steady heartbeat. You lean your head against his and bask in the moment of utter tranquility with your lover.

Ryu doesn’t open himself up and give himself to others so willingly. You have to be a very special person to open up that side of him. So when he says ‘forever,’ he actually means ‘forever.’ He just hopes that you feel the same level of devotion, because he can’t imagine finding anyone like you again.

[astxrism]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ astxrism's page ♥

+ Intro & Meanings & Masterlist link +

↬ Hello! ↫

↬ Welcome to my page ↫

↬ Meanings and Masterlist Link below ↫

• ♥ - Smut

• ♠ - Dark!character (This is typically dubcon / other stuff so make sure you read before you click on it)

• ♣ - Fluff

• ♦ - Angst

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MASTERLIST

▬ Fandoms I write for ▬

High & Low My Beautiful Man (Utsukushii Kare) Alice In Borderlands Crows Zero One Piece (Live Action) Knuckle Girl Like A Dragon: Yakuza (Show)

More to be added soon. . .

Socials for sneak peaks

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[asianpoplover143]

It’s about the fic High&Low The Return (2024), so I remember asking the question on this poll (https://www.tumblr.com/asianpoplover143/760386655717900288/well-lets-say-that-it-is-the-end-however-i-do), if you all wanted me to share whatever I had on my drafts about the fic right? So the result was: “Only the sinopse”. So here it is the daft of it, feel free to give your thoughts and opinions about it.

Please be honest, I wont be upset or angry, quite the opposite I will be happy with the honesty :)

Please enjoy the daft of what I have done so far with the sinopse:

Sinopse draft:

Now with all of SWORD gangs being at peace with one another, being friends and getting along (including Kuryu Group/Mighty Warriors/Prison Gang/Doubt, Mugen, Amamiya Brothers) and also all of the High Schools (3 School Alliance: Senomon High, Kamasaka High and Ebara High; Oya High, Housen Academy, and Suzuran High) being friends and getting along as well, that’s thanks due in a certain part to Suzaki Ryo that made his (boy)friend Amagai Kohei go back to his old self, be that boy with a kind heart and etc. and also to Kohei’s younger brother that is best friends with the 2nd year students from those High Schools (specially Suzuran boys) because they have a lot in common for example they finish their fights without a single scratch or drop of their own blood, and also they still have enough energy to fight more and even to go to a war, plus they always win their fights.

And speaking of Senomon High, Ranamru is the new principal and Hirai and Takano are always there helping him with the students, when they are at Senomon the 3 of them act like parents to the students, they act totally different from the way they act with Doubt. With the students they are more heartwarming and caring, but also a funny fact about Ranmaru is that he is not a normal principal, he as soon as he is done using the speaker he always says “Hirai, how do I turn this off?”, and this is every time, and Hirai helps him. Ranmaru’s favorite students are the 2nd year students because they are mini copies of him, however the 2nd year students are the strongest ones in Senomon and the best fighters and the only ones that don’t need weapons to fight, in fact they are even able to take the weapon out of their opponent’s hands with ease. Which is why Kouei (Kohei’s younger brother) is a 2nd year student and one of the heads/leaders of both 2nd and 1st year students, and lets say kinda helps his older brother leading the 3rd year students alongside him, and not just that also the Mighty Warriors baby, and the chosen one to be the head of their family (Amagai Family) alongside Ryu the head of the Kuryu Group.

And speaking of Kuryu Group, guess who is back? If you said: “famous idols/actors that had abandoned their careers to live (or try) a normal live”. Why on earth were you even thinking of/about it? (In case you really were). The correct answer is: If you said “Kidra”, then you are absolutely correct. Yes, Kidra is back, and so is Chanson Group plus the RedDrum drug and guess what? Kidra is doing the RedDrum drug again and they are doing what they were doing in High&Low The Worst, but this time they are selling to all of the High Schools (even the ones that they sold before, like Oya High and Housen), and now 3 School Alliance involved and Suzuran. And for that and reason (and many others) Chanson Group that is the true enemy.

Oh and it doesn’t stop there! A new gang is rising back from the ashes…They are the Black Rascals, they are basically the emo version of the White Rascals, their leader? The vicious and handsome Yami, which believe it or not is Suzuran’s principal and Rocky’s the White Rascals leader, best friend since they were in kindergarten and still they remain ever since. And is one of the many reasons why the Black Rascals help the White Rascals whenever they need.

[xsweetelegantdisasterx]

☆Dropping off Chapter 4 ☆

Missed something?

Here are the previous ones:

{1} {2} {3}

❧ Summary: The Belladonna’s were always successful in keeping a low profile. They kept their numbers small, and their friendships smaller. After Kuryu discovers they have the ideal location for their casino, they start causing trouble for the group. With the help of the Amamiya Brothers, and the S.W.O.R.D district, they must overcome the biggest battle of their lives.

❧ Characters: Masaki, Hiroto, S.W.O.R.D Members, Original Characters.

❧ Pairings: Masaki/OFC, Hiroto/OFC.

❧ Genre: Angst, some fluff, there's betrayal.

❧ Warning: There's going to be violence & some suggestive situations. If you don't feel comfortable, please don't read. ♡

❧ W/C: 2270

❧ A/N: This is a work in progress, I have 4 chapters written, working on 5 now. Please bare with me as my job keeps me busy, but I'll push out chapters as I can. Hopefully you enjoy ♡ Also I'm super nervous on sharing this piece, so please go easy on the slaying

➻ Taglist: @stardragongalaxy

Reign started to stir as she felt heavy. Her head was pounding, feeling as a train ran her over. She rolled over seeing pillows separating her and Masaki. She looked down noticing his leathers were on her backwards.

“Masaki, what the hell?” She couldn't help but laugh and be confused all in the same breath.

He grinned, opening his eyes, stretching a bit sitting up, “I don’t know if you know this Reign, but you get frisky when you're drunk. I made a pillow fort and put you in my jacket, backwards mind you, to protect my innocence.”

“You put me in a straightjacket?” She looked in the mirror, trying to confirm what she was seeing.

“To protect the sanctity of my innocence.”

“Your innocence huh? Masaki, I believe a lot of things, but you being a hundred percent innocent is not one of them.”

He rubbed his hair amused at the whole situation. “You tried to molest me, I had to prevent that.”

“How long do I have to stay in this homemade straightjacket?”

“Until your sexual deviations are gone.”

Reign furrowed her eyes. She was going to get out of it one way or another. No matter how hard she tried, she could not reach the zipper due to his leather jacket being stiff. Masaki got up putting on his shirt, he kissed Reign on her head as he walked out. She threw on her joggers searching for Kurenai. Maybe her best friend would help her out of this conundrum. Reign got to the bottom of the stairs noticing everyone in the kitchen. They were all seemingly in an important discussion. All eyes were on hers, snickering coming from the guys.

“Kure. . My sweet, beautiful friend. . Can I have your assistance with this zipper.”

Kure just looked dumbfounded, sharing glances between her and Masaki. A smirk befell her lips before answering.

“I have so many questions right now. First, why are you wearing the jacket backwards?”

“We have a comedian in the house, that goes by the stage name Masaki. He put me in this.”

“Tell them why,” he gestured his hand before taking a bite out of the orange in his hand.

“Listen, no. Nothing I say makes this any less awkward for me.”

Saikon circled her laughing like he’d heard the best joke. “How drunk did you get to put a jacket on backwards? I thought you could hold your liquor?”

“Saikon I didn’t ask for your input.”

“You’re still dancing around the reason Reign,” Masaki’s dimples showed.

“Is nobody planning to help me?” Reign tried to cross her arms but was unsuccessful.

As if nothing could get worse, Reign heard Sisi's obnoxious cackle behind her. If the samurai decided to just appear out of thin air and stab Reign, it would be better than to hear her mouth about the situation. She closed her eyes trying to envision a time nicer than this, to help cool her off. When she opened her eyes again, Kenshin was bent over the island laughing.

Reign turned slightly glaring at Masaki. “Shut up Sisi.”

“Reign do me a favor, lift your arms a bit,” Siyeon sat down.

“I’m done with everyone in this room. Masaki, you don’t play fair.”

“What did you do?” Ivy circled her.

“Nothing that concerns anyone in this room. I guess I’ll have to call Murayama to get me out of this jacket,” Reign headed towards the door, smirking just knowing he’d help then.

“Tell him I said hi.”

She stopped. He was calling her bluff.

“What do I have to do to get out this jacket?” she tried to whisper as low as she could, “I promise I won't get fresh with you.”

Everyone's mouth gaped open. Masaki smiled as he walked over to her, her cheeks filled will blush, “At least not when you're drunk,” he whispered in her ear.

Reign heard her freedom in the form of a zipper. Looking back at Masaki, she glared. A cup of coffee stole her attention as she grabbed it before heading upstairs.

“Reign that was mine,” Saikon was offended she took it.

“Call it your asshole tax,” she sipped it walking up the stairs.

“I don’t like to pry, but you probably just friend zoned yourself,” Kenshin patted Masaki on the back.

“On the contrary, I just built a great foundation. I didn’t want our first time to be on the account that she was under the influence,” Masaki poured coffee joining the people at the table.

“He will never allow that to happen,” Hiroto fist bumped his brother proudly.

Reign joined back downstairs after a shower and a change of clothes. She felt better, but started to feel regret about coming onto Masaki. That wasn't like her, but she did drink a lot. She got a phone call excusing herself out the room.

“Oneesan, come quick. Something’s wrong with your clinic!”

From what she was called, it could only be one of the three from Oya. She rushed into the kitchen grabbing her jacket and keys, without saying a word. Everyone looked at the panic on her face, chasing behind her. She jumped on her bike with nothing on her mind but getting to her clinic. She about had her fill on the whole Casino project. Whoever decided to try and mess with her today would pay.

After a couple of minutes of riding, she arrived to the clinic. She parked her bike grabbing a weapon out of her saddle bag. With the flick of her wrist, the weapon expanded in her hand. She saw a lot of figures standing around, but the tall figure that had his back towards her was the closest. Reign grabbed her hair sticks, placing them intricately in her hair. She took off as quickly, but quietly, as she could not to tip him off. Reign jumped up using the chair next to him. She brought the stick around, wrapping her legs around him, bringing them down; tightening her grip.

The guy was stumped as to how this happened so quickly. A few minutes of them squirming on the ground, Kurenai and the others ran in turning on the light.

“Reign! I think that’s one of the Oya boys!” Kurenai and the others were yelling.

Reign had Furuya in the choke hold. She looked down as he looked up at her; she released her hold.

“I’m so sorry Furuya.”

“Oneesan, you sure you don't want to come to Oya? That's Oya spirit!”

Murayama and Seki started clapping and jumping around happily. Furuya stood up rubbing his neck, entranced by what just happened. He immediately sat down in the chair, just watching Reign. He’d never gotten jumped by a woman before; a tiny one nonetheless.

“Murayama, what the hell? You said something was wrong with my clinic.”

“I didn’t say anything bad. I just meant your new employees didn’t have their boss here. I like where your mind went with this though Oneesan .”

Reign rested her face in her hands. When she looked up, she saw a whole room of people. She only recognized the ones from her home and the three from Oya.

“My new employees? Where Murayama?”

He made a huge circle in the center of the room, smiling, “Us Oneesan, we're your new employees.” His crew smiled and waved.

Reign crossed her arms, “You’re serious?”

“Of course. We can’t have sick animals in the district. You have a job to do, we want to help.”

“This is very kind of you all but I have no way to pay you all at the moment without clients.”

“We’ll comprise a contract Oneesan don’t you worry,” Seki was excited.

Kurenai and the others were also confused, right alongside Reign. She still had her arms crossed pacing the floor.

“What about the hours you all have class?”

“Oneesan,” Murayama’s face turned to a frown.

“Murayama, I do appreciate the sentiment, I really do, but during the day I’d have no one to help me.”

“We could take turns Oneesan,” Seki interjected.

“There are labor laws I have to abide by guys. The only thing I can think of is having temporary hours.”

She saw how passionate these kids were about helping her, she didn’t want to shoot down their offer. It would keep them out of trouble outside of their class. She thought long and hard about their offer.

“Oneesan, we can find others that might help,” Murayama looked defeated as he laid down.

Reign paced her floor in deep thought. “Can you guys be here from three to six?”

“So you'll consider our offer Oneesan ?”

“Probably against my better judgement, but yes.”

All the boys from Oya yelled as they ran to Reign hugging her; Furuya being the first one. She couldn’t help but laugh from their excitement.

“Three to six, you probably won’t be able to do anything but check people in, take payment, and disinfect after every customer. Is this understood?”

“Of course, we will not let you down.”

Reign smiled, “We’ll start this on Monday. If you’re late, you have to deal with my wrath. Get it?”

They all shook their heads excitedly.

“Good, now go home. I don't want to fight your parents,” she ushered them out the door.

Murayama, Seki, and Furuya were the lasts to leave.

“Gosh Oneesan. Your man came through can you believe it?” he grinned tapping his cheek expecting a kiss.

Reign furrowed her eyes smiling, she patted his cheek. “Thank you Murayama.”

“I see you Oneesan. I’ll get a kiss on the cheek one day.”

They walked out strutting. Kurenai, Masaki, and Hiroto approached her.

“The fact that you took Furuya down is impressive.”

“I didn’t know it was them, I just chose the closest to me.”

Reign walked over to the door ready to leave since there was nothing to be done until Monday. Masaki was the last to walk over to the door.

“Can we talk?”

“There’s literally nothing to talk about. I made a fool out of myself. I just want to chop this up as a bad memory and move on,” she locked her door heading to her bike.

He stopped her, Reign just scoffed silently. Kurenai looked back before popping the others on the chest to stop.

“I just was going to suggest hiring people.”

“Masaki, I have no money to pay anyone. With all the heat from Kuryu lately, I doubt I’m going to have prospective employees lining up at the door.”

“Hmm can't have Reignkaida worrying about that can we?” Kenshin looked over at Saikon motioning towards Reign. “Kure in retrospect you’re a manager, so you might could help manage the animals too.”

“That's honestly not a bad idea guys. Managing animals though?” Kouga crossed his arms.

“You know what I mean,” Kenshin growled a little being corrected.

“I don't want to work with her guys,” Saikon sounded put off from the whole conversation.

“You owe The Belladonna’s Sai,” Kenshin spoke up. “It’s either here or with the obnoxious ones; your choice.”

He growled under his breath, “The obnoxious ones sound like a better deal.”

Kenshin rolled his eyes from the disdain Saikon had with Reign. “Whatever, you know Reign would have your back if you needed it. The least you could do is return the favor.”

Kenshin climbed on his bike awaiting the cue to head back to the house. Kurenai was trying to figure out how they would come up with the payroll portion.

“Let's go somewhere. I have an idea on who could help loan the money,” Kurenai, Kouga, and Kenshin took off.

Reign looked over seeing Saikon and Hiroto standing around. Hiroto almost looked as troubled as Reign did. She slapped Masaki on the chest pointing at his brother; he was visibly uncomfortable. Masaki smiled as he hung his head. Hiroto joined up with them as Reign giggled. He looked over furrowing his eyes at her.

“Sorry, you just look like how I feel being around him.”

“He just gives me weird vibes,” Hiroto shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That's Sai for you. He's an asshole sometimes but he has heart,” she turned to Saikon as he glared at Reign.

“What do you want?”

“I’m going back home, you’re free to come with us.”

“I'll pass. I'm going to go find some food,” Saikon hopped on his bike leaving the trio in the distance.

“Do you two want to come?”

“I'm going home. Masaki, I'll catch you at the house,” Hiroto pulled down his shades leaving Masaki and Reign.

Reign looked over at Masaki, offering the same invitation.

“Don't look at me with your eyes,” his voice dropped.

Reign smiled. She walked over to her bike looking at Masaki again, seeing he was going to follow her. They went back to the house, being the only two there for the time being. She unlocked the door, holding it open for him. They both sat on the couch in complete silence. He would look over at her, seeing her in deep thought.

“I do feel I need to apologize to you. I’m usually not that forward, so I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your apologies Reign. As much as I would’ve loved for us to do that, I wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation. I want you to want me without the alcohol.”

She looked around. She definitely wanted him; alcohol mixed in the equation or not. “I respect that.”

“I respect you,” once more, his dimple complimented his smile.

She pulled a pillow out from under her as she laid on his lap. He ran his hands through her hair, putting her to sleep.

[messrmoonyy]

- Arthur Morgan hcs ( high honour vs low honour ) 18+

HH!Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader / LH!Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Request- LOVE your writing, can we get a high honor vs low honor Arthur in bed? HAVE A LOVELY DAY :D

A/N- ty to the anon for requesting this, I’m in one of those ruts where I’m struggling to write one shots more than like a few sentences here and there or hating everything and restarting a million times lol. So a HC request was a nice way to get me writing without thinking too hard 😭💀. I will say I have never and could never play low honour. So if it’s inaccurate well… it’s fanfiction. This is basically soft vs rough Arthur lmao

Masterlist

•Low honour•

- He’s a slightly selfish lover. If he comes first then he doesn’t particularly care if you haven’t

- Likes to use his size to his advantage. Hes taller. Heavier. Wider. Likes when he can pin you down and put his weight on you, trapping you in place. Size kink goes crazy

- Which also leads into his love of choking. And hair pulling. He just likes to manhandle you , he likes that he’s so much bigger and can just like… toss you around a bit. He likes knowing he can wrap his hand around your throat and have your literal life in his hands, and you just willingly let him.

- Of course he’s far tougher and rougher. HH!Arthur will spend ages working you up and relaxing you and making you come in the most blissfully world shattering way. LH!Arthur just wants to see how many times he can make you finish before you pass out

- OR. If he’s feeling particularly dickish. He’ll just edge you. For hours. Days. Simply because he thinks it’s funny. And he’s a jerk.

- Prone bone is one of his favs. He can trap you in place, press your face into his pillow and go to town.

- lip biter. Absolutely will tug your bottom lip between his teeth mid make out

- Possessive. Likes leaving hickeys all over you. Especially where others can see them. And he doesn’t like you hiding them either. He wants people to know you’re his

- He’ll praise you but it’s usually pretty degrading too. Like think ‘ who’s my good lil whore, hm? ‘

- Loveeeessssssss You giving him head. Loves it. And will actively ask for it unlike HH!Arthur

- The sloppier the better, roughly fucking himself into your mouth until you gag and choke and urging you to keep going? Yeah he loves that shit. ‘ that’s it. Good girl choke on it ‘ ‘ you can do better than that princess ‘

- DARE I SAY IT. DARE I SAY LH!ARTHUR HAS A GUN KINK. CAUSE- cue my silent war flashbacks to that one Tess gun kink fic I wrote.

- Ass man. Will smack it and grab it every chance he gets. Whether it’s in the bedroom or not.

- Finishes on your face, tits,ass. Likes the look of it it fills some possessive desire inside him. Like he’s marking you.

- And he ain’t tryna get you pregnant

- he may be an absolute dick but he does give you some aftercare. He’s not the cuddly type. But he’ll help you clean up and kiss you, tell you you did a good job. He’ll always make sure you’re doing okay because he loves you

•High honour•

- Treats you like you’re delicate. Even if he knows you’re not. He’s tender. Gentle. He worships you. There is not a single inch of skin unkissed, caressed. Loved.

- He always wants you to come first. And multiple times too. But in a different way to LH!Arthur. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you he just wants to give. Hes such a giver. And he would happily spend an entire day with his head between your thighs if he could.

- Like. This man is a munch. He is. Argue with the wall. He is

- And he’s damn good at it. And thorough. Buries his damn face in you. And you’ve seen the size of his hands, those thick fingers of his make an appearance too. He knows your body well and can hit the perfect spot with practiced ease ‘ that’s it darlin, right there yeah?’

- He’s sloppy with it and he doesn’t care. If his beard isn’t glistening with you when he’s done then he didn’t do it right

- He likes missionary. So he can see your face and kiss you as much as he wants, he just loves to watch you. He likes to see the way he makes you feel, likes to watch the way your face twists and relaxes with the pleasure he gives you.

- Praise!!! So much praise!!!

- ‘Doin so fell f’me darlin takin me so well ‘ ‘ look so pretty like this ‘ ‘ eyes on me darlin, wanna see that pretty face when you come ‘

- Loves you playing/pulling his hair. Whether it’s when he’s got his head between your thighs or when he’s buried deep inside you and you’re desperately clawing at him. He loves it

- He’s a boobs typa guy. Loves to grab them and and suck on them, especially if you have your fingers running through his hair at the same time.

- He likes to finish inside despite the risk. But if not he’ll wait until the very last second and pull out, just spilling onto your stomach. He doesn’t wanna… defile you. You’re a precious creature worthy of being worshipped and desired, not treated like some cheap saloon girl.

- But deep down he wouldn’t even mind if you did get pregnant. He wants nothing more than to have a family with you one day.

- the sweetest aftercare. Cleans you up and helps you get dressed again. The act of dressing someone rather than undressing them is so intimate and he loves it.

- he’ll cuddle you and pet your hair, tell you how much he loves and adores you. How beautiful you are, how good you made him feel. He literally is a never ending fountain of praise.

[allthemeniveloved]

Do I look like him?

Summary: John finds himself torn between the love you’ve built together and the ghost of the man who made it all possible, wondering if he’ll ever be enough.

wc: 2,313

Warnings: a little smut, angst, fluff, missing Arthur, body worship, hurt comfort

ao3 link

Inspired by Tyler, the Creator's song "Like Him (feat. Lola Young)" as well as a phenomenal edit I saw on tiktok the other day from @ arthursnipple with this song.

"That's it, baby," he rasped, pounding into you with little restraint. "Take what ya need."

He could feel you tightening around him, your nails digging into his back as you urged him on. And God help him, he wanted to give you everything - to make you scream his name until your throat was raw.

"You like that, sweetheart?" he grunted, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

John could feel his own release building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine. But he held back, determined to bring you to the brink first. He wanted to watch you come undone on his cock, to see the look on your face as you shattered in his arms. So he repositions your leg over his shoulder before doubling his efforts, his hips snapping into yours with brutal force as he watches your breasts bounce perfectly. Your lover pressed open-mouthed kisses to your ankle as you begged for him to keep going, to keep filling you up, just as you had done so many times before.

“That’s my baby,” he grunted, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You moved your hand to cover his on your waist, and the soft contact caused him to meet your gaze.

Do I look like him?

The thought flashed across his mind faster than he could realize, and the startling thought caused a stutter in his hips. You pretend not to notice as he softly shakes the thought from his mind, but his eyes left yours as quickly as he found them. 

John's hips snapped forward again, driving into you with renewed intensity. The bed frame creaked and groaned beneath you, threatening to give way under the force of your passion. But John barely noticed, too consumed by the unease he suddenly felt deep in his chest. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire and desperation, “I wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.” And with a final, intense thrust of his hips, you shattered in his arms, body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. John worked you through it all, prolonging your climax until you were boneless and completely spent beneath him. After allowing you a moment to catch your breath, he pulls out of you and quickly finds the bandana on his nightstand to wipe up his mess. He’s slow and deliberate about it, studying every curve of your body while avoiding your gaze. 

“You didn’t finish,” you whisper. 

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” 

-

The night was still, the only sounds coming from the soft rustle of the wind through the trees and the rhythmic creak of the old wood frame beneath the weight of the two of you. The room was dark save for the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the thin curtains. He couldn’t sleep. He rarely does these days.

His gaze fixed on the ceiling, his thoughts heavy and tangled. Your hand rested lightly on his chest, your fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt. A gesture so small, but one that made his heart ache with the weight of everything he didn’t know how to say.

You were here, with him, at Beecher’s Hope. After everything—after the chaos of the gang, the bloodshed, the loss—you had chosen to stay. Chosen him. And yet, as John lay there, staring into the darkness, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else’s shadow lingered between you.

Arthur.

He hadn’t spoken the name out loud in years, but it lived in his mind like an uninvited guest. The man who had saved him, the man who had been everything he wasn’t—steady, loyal, selfless. The man you had loved first.

John had never blamed you for it. How could he? Arthur was easy to love in ways John never felt he was. He had been your rock, your safe haven, in the chaos of the life you’d all been trapped in. John wasn’t blind to the fact that if Arthur hadn’t been taken by sickness, hadn’t sacrificed everything for the people he cared about, you wouldn’t be lying here now. Not with him.

His chest tightened at the thought, and his free hand moved to rest over yours, his fingers brushing the back of your hand as if to reassure himself that you were real.

John had always felt like a man playing a role he wasn’t fit for. Husband, father, lover—they were words that didn’t sit right on his tongue, responsibilities that felt like borrowed clothes he couldn’t quite fill. And yet here he was, with you beside him, Jack in the next room, and a life that felt almost too good to be true.

John takes a long drag on his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that curls lazily toward the ceiling. “You think about him a lot, don’t you?”

You stiffen at the question, fingers wrapping tightly against the fabric of his union suit, you don’t need to ask who he means. There’s only one man whose shadow stretches this far, even after all these years.

“John…” you start, your voice soft but edged with warning.

“I’m not mad,” he says quickly, cutting you off. His eyes meet yours, and you see something in them that makes your chest tighten—an understanding that feels heavier than anger ever could. “I just… I just want to know.”

You look away, your gaze drifting to the fireplace in the bedroom. The flames flicker and dance, and for a moment, you see Arthur’s face in your mind’s eye—his crooked smile, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you. You swallow hard, the memory sharp and bittersweet.

“Sometimes,” you finally admit. “I think about what he’d say… what he’d think about all this.”

“All this,” John echoes, his voice quieter now. He crushes his cigarette butt in the ashtray on the nightstand, running a hand through his dark hair. “You mean us.”

You nod, your throat too tight to speak. You know this is a conversation you’ve both been avoiding for years, but it was bound to happen eventually. The ghost of Arthur Morgan has always been a part of your relationship, even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

John rolls to face you, propping himself up on his elbow, his lips pursed together. “Do you… do you ever wonder if it woulda been different? If he hadn’t…”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, your voice sharper than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Don’t do that, John. It’s not fair. To him. To us.” 

He nods, but the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease. “I know it ain’t fair.” 

The words hang in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. You feel the sting of them, not because they’re cruel, but because they’re true. Arthur had saved you in more ways than one, even in death. He’d given you the strength to carry on, the courage to find something resembling happiness again. And yes, he’d brought you to John, even if not intentionally.

“Sometimes I wonder if he’d hate me for this,” he murmurs. “For bein’ with you. For tryin’ to give you the kind of life he wanted to.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, willing him to feel the truth of your words. “Arthur wouldn’t hate you, John. He’d want me to be happy. He’d want you to be happy too.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. The firelight plays over his features, casting shadows under his eyes and across his jaw. For a moment, you think he’s going to let the conversation drop, but then he leans over and cups your face gently, his calloused thumb brushing away the tears you didn’t even realize were falling.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be enough,” he says, his voice raw and unsteady. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life tryin’ to be.” 

Before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you. It’s not a hesitant kiss, or a questioning one—it’s fierce, full of need and vulnerability and love. His lips press against yours with a desperation that speaks of all the things he can’t say, all the fears he carries but refuses to burden you with. You gasp against him, your hands clutching at his shirt as if to ground yourself, and he deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair.

The world outside the cabin fades, the weight of the past momentarily lifting as his warmth surrounds you. When he finally pulls back, both of you breathless, his forehead rests against yours. His eyes are glassy, his breathing uneven.

“I love you,” he whispers, the words as much a plea as a promise.

“I love you too, John. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulls you into his side as you dry your tears on the fabric of his shirt. It’s not long after that sleep claims you. He turned his head to look at you, his breath catching at the sight. The moonlight painted your face in soft silver, your features relaxed and peaceful. You looked beautiful, even in sleep—especially in sleep, when the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. 

John’s breath was slow and measured as he lay beside you, the faint glow of moonlight outlining your figure against the bed. You were wrapped in his arms, your bare skin glowing like some ethereal thing, soft and inviting. His gaze roamed over you, unhurried, lingering on every curve and line as if he could imprint the sight of you onto his very soul.

He’d seen you like this countless times before, but tonight felt different— more fragile, as if this moment existed on the edge of something he couldn’t quite name.

His hand moved slowly, almost reverently, tracing the curve of your shoulder, the delicate slope of your collarbone. His calloused fingers felt clumsy against your softness, but he didn’t stop, letting his touch map the places his eyes had already memorized.

Every freckle, every scar, every mark on your body felt like a story he wanted to know by heart. The faint dip of your spine, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the way your hair fanned out across the pillow—all of it was mesmerizing, sacred.

John’s hand drifted to your arm, following the curve down to your wrist, where he paused to marvel at the fragility of it, at how someone as strong as you could feel so breakable in his hands. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm, then to the delicate skin of your wrist where he could feel your pulse thrumming beneath his mouth.

His chest tightened as he shifted closer, his lips trailing along your arm, your shoulder, the hollow of your neck. He wanted to know every inch of you, wanted to memorize you in a way that went deeper than touch or sight. He wanted to carry the memory of you with him always, in a place where no time or distance or loss could ever take it away.

As his hands moved to your waist, his fingers splaying across your skin like he was anchoring himself to you, he closed his eyes and breathed you in. You smelled like home—faint traces of lavender soap and the earthy scent of the outdoors. He thought of how often he took for granted the simple presence of you, the way you fit against him like you belonged there.

You stirred under his touch, your breath hitching slightly as you turned your head toward him, your eyes fluttering open. The sight of you looking at him, sleepy and soft, sent a rush of something overwhelming through him—something that felt like love but was too big and too consuming to be named so simply.

“John,” you whispered, your voice heavy with sleep but laced with something deeper, something knowing.

He didn’t answer, couldn’t find the words. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you again, his lips slow and deliberate, tasting the softness of your mouth, the heat of your skin. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, though that burned beneath the surface—it was a kiss of devotion, of a man trying to capture the essence of the woman he loved in a way that words and memory alone could never hold.

When he pulled back, his hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as his eyes searched yours. “I just… I just want to remember you like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion.

You smiled softly, your hand covering his as you leaned into his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, John.”

He nodded, though his chest still ached with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, but life had a way of taking what mattered most. And if it ever did, he’d carry this night, this moment, with him always—every inch of you burned into his memory, like a brand on his soul.

His lips brushed your forehead, a kiss so light it was barely there, but it carried all the things he didn’t know how to say.

He loved you. He didn’t always know if he deserved you, but he loved you more than he’d ever thought himself capable of loving anyone.

John’s eyes grew heavy as he let the warmth of your body and the steady sound of your breathing pull him toward sleep. He didn’t have the answers, didn’t know if he ever would, but as he lay there with you in his arms, he knew one thing for certain.

He’d spend the rest of his life trying to be the man you needed him to be. Even if he’d never quite escape the shadow of the man who came before him.

[leather-n-velvet]

High & Low: The Masterlist

A Drew Starkey x singer/actress!OC SMAU

Summary: While on hiatus from touring and wanting to branch out with her career, Ivy Blake auditions for OBX, immediately hitting it off with none other than Drew Starkey during their chemistry read. As tension and drama brew between the two, can they get through the highs and lows that come with fame and relationships together?

Series note/warning: This series starts during the filming of Season 2 of OBX. No actual smut, just a few suggestive moments (may change in the future). Minors DNI! cursing.

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Ivy Blake: singer/songwriter, actress. 25. originally from Tennessee. one dog: a Siberian husky named Sienna. ambivert.

Drew Starkey: 28

Intro

2021

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX (coming soon)

Extras:

Playlist (coming soon)

[daz-zey]

Stalks, lurks in the seong Gi hun, seong Gi hun x reader and Gi hun x reader tags. Religiously and respectfully. 🧟‍♀️

Love ya’ll 🫶🏼

[fxndxm-axg]

Breaking My Silence…

I hate how Low Honor Arthur is treated as some dom daddy pervert. More dominant than mid-high honor would be? Yes, he’s extremely selfish when LH, so it makes sense to assume he’s gonna take what he wants from his partner during sex. (This part is def more personal-opinionated of me) I would say he’s a “firm” dom, although that’s not a real thing pre-say lol. Definitely uses less ropes and cuffs and blindfolds as fics make him out to do, haha. Could be a soft dom potentially, based on the partner, I think. Maybe when he’s softer he’s more teasing and playful with a flustered bottom? Totally see it. But a pervert? Groping y/n in camp, being crass and filthy to/about y/n around people, etc? I can’t stand it. Even when LH, Arthur respects women (as much as a man can in 1899), and works alongside them. His antagonize lines towards women which are sexist can be enacted with any honor level, and the peeping-tom stranger events are completely done by player choice.

But fuck it bro it’s your life /ref 💀 and I get the appeal to some extent. But I just think that especially perverted-Arthur hc’s are some weird projections and fundamentally misconstrue the character. I’m not trying to be the hc police, because you’re allowed to interpret and enjoy media how you want! I’m just saying what I don’t enjoy with some interpretations of Arthur Morgan’s characterization….. This is all silly and goonerish because we’re speculating a fictional cowboys would-be sex life so that’s what I mean. I’m self aware to how stupid all of this is LMAOO but I hope my two cents is interesting.

Anyways here’s a pic of Arthur I took that is quintessential LH dom daddy pervert Arthur Morgan-core

[pixaho]

Hiii may i request a SENOMON having girlfriends if its not too much to ask🫡🫡

Senomon with Girlfriends

Pairing Senomon x Reader

cw; none

a/n; So this has been rotting in my inbox, but I hope you enjoy. I didn't include the other 2 from Senomon as I barely know their characters (and one of them looks like they'd want to annoy people for a living) so I hope you are fine with just Amagai and Ryo.

AMAGAI

» FIRST MEET

Amagai and you had met in primary school, however you had moved due to your family's business taking over a new area. When you ended up back where you had grown up, your first meet was with him and Ryo. It didn't go well because of how stubborn and self-absorbed he had gotten.

» DATES

Your dates aren't 100% great. He takes you to clubs and places he frequently visits. When he does try, that is when he takes you to places that you would least expect.

» FIRST TIME

Argumentative. Amagai's strongness is being argumentative. You and him end up fighting over the way he's treating Ryo, when things get too heated he breaks the argument with a kiss. Which then leads to you both taking your frustrations out on each other.

» ARGUING

Arguments and fights are not rare, they're quite common between you two. You are the literal opposite of Amagai and although he acts like he despises it, you are right when you say that he wants to be like you in a few ways.

» JEALOUS

Yes. If he sees you talking to another guy, he gets pretty jealous and shows that by being cocky and showing you off to the dude. For women, it's different.

» HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

» HOW YOU KISS

RYO

» FIRST MEET

Ryo and you had met due to Amagai, he had forced you and your friends to hang out. It had been quite the uncomfortable experience, at least for you, your friends were having somewhat of fun. You decided to strike up a conversation with one of the men. That man was Ryo.

» DATES

He usually treats you to hanging out in the park or going to a cafe. He works hard to get your affection (and he don't even gotta TRYYY).

» FIRST TIME

Ryo had come to meet you after training some of Senomon's first years. He was bruised and slightly bloody but tried to clean up most of it. When you saw him, you just had to take care of him. Let's say, with his hands on your hips, one thing lead to another.

» ARGUING

Arguments are not rare but not common. These are typically about him needing to stand up for the way that Amagai treats him. He doesn't seem to agree with you a lot of the time.

» JEALOUS

Silent jealousy type. Just squeezes your hand when he gets jealous.

» HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

» HOW YOU KISS

» mutuals; @talusional

m.list h&l list

[hannie-dul-set]

[ojou-sama, it’s time to go to bed]. at first it started off as a joke. at least, to you it was a joke, when you suggested the dumb idea of holding a cross-dressing maid café for your major’s festival booth— you know— as a joke.

“hey, is this how you put this on…?”

it was supposed to be a joke. really. seriously. but somehow, your seniors decided to run with your idea. and now you have seok matthew— server number three of yura yura maid cafe, opening its doors this friday at five, walking out of the storage closet— in a frilly black dress, frilly white apron, and an equally frilly headband that’s supposed to be neatly resting on the top of his head, but is currently trying to asphyxiate him instead.

“oh my fucking god.”

the buttons on his chest are holding onto their dear lives. the puffy sleeves clutching onto his biceps look like they’re about to burst open from the seams. 

“that’s not— you’re not— uh.” where…where do you look? holy shit. oh god. you feel your cheeks start to burn. you bring a hand up to your face, flimsy fingers covering as much evidence as you can while you attempt to discreetly look away. “that—that goes on your head.”

matthew unravels the lacy fabric from his neck. “huh?” he lifts it up. he raises an arm. you hear a muted riiiiiiiiiip! you suck in a sharp, deep breath. oh my god.  “how do i wear it? this is so weird.” 

you’re being the weird one right now. why is seeing your friend in a maid costume making your heart go fucking crazy? no, wait. the insane ones are hanbin, hao, and jiwoong for actually taking your dumb suggestion seriously and deciding to run with it! hell, your delivery of the suggestion had zero tinge of seriousness in it. hanbin called you out to give an idea because he caught you goofing around with gunwook and matthew at the back of lecture hall while he was talking, and you just pulled the first thing out of your ass without even considering the repercussions.

“a normal cafe is boring,” you said at the meeting while landing a big, hard smack on matthew’s back for chortling at your pretense of attentiveness. “but if we put you guys in cute, pretty dresses, i think we’d be able to attract more attention!” imagine your shock when hanbin responded by saying that’s a great idea, followed by a second from jiwoong, and a word from hao that he knows someone we could borrow outfits from.

you were, for lack of better term— stupefied. if those three wanted to do a maid cosplay, they should’ve just done it themselves. they shouldn’t have dragged your peace of mind and matthew’s poor, poor massive honkers into this predicament. they’re about to break free from their button prison. holy shit, this is fucking insane.

“dude. my eyes are up here.”

you nearly choke on your own spit. you snap your eyes back up— a hiccup— and feeling your face grow warmer at each second that passes where you’re meeting matthew’s gaze. “give—give me a second,” you sputter out, trying your best to appear normal despite being anything but. 

“c’mon, just help me put this thing on! the festival’s about to start.”

needless to say, you’re not attending the festival. in fact, you think you might need to go to bed early tonight for the sake of your peace of mind.

[hyugaruma]

H&L: Petname HCs (Part II)

♡

re: what they call you…

some petnames geared towards “feminine”

♡

Fujio: You kidding? This dude lives to give you any sort of nickname he can. “Cutie” is his cheeky go-to that he likes to call you. Sometimes he’ll use “Chief” if he wants to be a goof. Also, any version of your actual name that he can come up with.

Tsukasa: Your name… Don’t expect much else. He thinks petnames are a bit weird.

Jamuo: “My Heart and My Soul” or “My Steamed Dumpling”… There’s no rhyme or reason; you can never tell which it’ll be.

Yasushi: “Little Duck.” It started out as something he said to be annoying, but somehow it ended up sticking. Now even his goons call you “The Duckling.” Great.

Kiyoshi: “Honey,” “Cupcake,” “Plum”… Notice a trend here? You’re subject to being anything that is ‘sweet.’

Nakagoshi: “Babe,” he’s basic. Might be “Baby” if he’s feeling a bit soft or sentimental.

Nakaoka: Also “Babe,” also basic. Sometimes he thinks he’s real funny and will call you “Stink.”

Shibaman: The whole petname thing makes him feel a bit shy and awkward… He’s started absentmindedly calling you “My One” on the occasion, though. If you want him to keep doing it, don’t point it out.

Tsuji: “Darling.” Though, this tends to be something he says more within the privacy of just the two of you. He doesn’t really say it around other people. Maybe sometimes around Shiba and Todoroki, maybe.

Motoaki: “Cutiepie.” He just can’t help it, because he thinks you’re just so stinkin’ cute. Will call you this around anyone, anytime, he doesn’t care. (I think you give him mild cuteness aggression.)

Sachio: “My Love,” always said very softly and with the gentlest of smiles. It took him awhile to get to the point of calling you this, but now he uses it just as often as your own name.

Yuken: “Princess,” which he started out by calling you this ironically, but turns out he actually has trouble saying ‘no’ to you, so the name is fitting.

Eimei: “Apple,” aka “Apple of My Eye.” You’ve kind of all-consumed him, honestly.

Arata: Nope. Too embarrassing; he’s too shy. Just the thought is enough to make him keel over.

Amagai: Almost always your unaltered name. Randomly, though, it’ll be “Bug”… and it’s impossible to tell if he’s saying it affectionately or not.

Ryo: Though he’s a bit shy about it, he does call you “Angel” in private. He accidentally called you that in front of Amagai once and got laughed at, so now it stays between the two of you.

Mario: “Treasure.” And he doesn’t mind calling you this in front of anyone either (because he knows they’re too scared to make fun of him for it). Also, he’s just really proud to show off the fact that you’re his.

Sameoka: 99% of the time he’ll only refer to you by your name. But, during the occasion that he’s in a really, really affectionate mood, he might call you “Love.”

Fujin: “Doll” will basically become a replacement for your name. Does he even remember that you have a name? Who knows, you’re “Doll” at this point.

Binzo: “Kitty”… not “Kitten,” but “Kitty.” He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit. Also, if you call him any petnames, he’ll call you the same ones in return, whatever it may be.

[astxrism]

♥ astxrism's masterlist & no's ♥

masterlists & no's

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High & Low

My Beautiful Man / Utsukushii Kare

Alice In Borderlands

Crows Zero

One Piece Live Action

Knuckle Girl

Like A Dragon: Yakuza (Show)

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my no's in requests

I have a few rules when it comes to requesting certain characters with certain things and here is what they are;

I will not do incest. This includes father x daughter, mother x son, mother x daughter, father x son, step-related, third cousins, or anything of that sort.

Smut / Lemon for underaged characters. If you ask me for smut on characters like a child, I will not do your request and it'll be deleted.

Vague requests. If you request, then please don't be vague. I would like to know what character, an au (if you want one), and the genre you want. If its vague, I will not do it.

Weird kinks. Those kinks that have to do with bodily fluids like piss and shit. I'll do spitting kinks and blood kinks but those are off limits.

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Upcoming works

If you don't follow me on instagram or just don't want to, this is how you see my current wips

Crying Angel (LAD:Y) Jealousy (MBM/UK)

[rainisawriter]

Worth the Risk (Yuken)

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 4,484

Pairing: Reader x Yuken

World: High&Low

Request:

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

The bedroom was dark, the house silent as the rest of your family slept. A tiny sliver of moonlight was shining through the curtains, falling across the round clock that sat on the wall opposite the window.

You glanced at it and scowled in frustration, forcing your eyes closed once more. Only three minutes have passed since the last time you checked, though it felt as if an hour had passed. It was only three in the morning and you should be sleeping, but excitement was swatting at the sandman every time he tried to get close.

Rolling onto your side, you grabbed your phone off the bedside table and tapped the power button. A smile immediately came to your face when your eyes fell on the wallpaper.

It was a picture of you and Yuken from a few months ago, both of you smiling brightly. He had snuck his hand up behind your head at the last moment, using his fingers to make it look like you had tiny bunny ears.

The two of you lived nearly ten hours away from each other so you rarely got to see him outside of video calls. While the two of you spoke daily, it did feel hard sometimes. You missed the gentle way he held you and the subtle scent of his cologne filling your nose. You missed running your fingers through his silky hair and the feel of his plush lips against your own.

You gently rubbed your thumb over the screen, glancing at the time again. Another three minutes had passed, but you were feeling less annoyed after having seen his face. You never understood it, but he had this strange effect on you. Whenever you were sad or angry, he could flip your mood around with a single look or a few words whispered into your ear.

Seeing his face was enough because you knew that, in just a few hour’s time, you would be on the road toward Toaru city. It was going to be a long, torturous trip, but it would be worth it in the end. 

More importantly, you had decided not to tell him you were coming because you wanted to surprise him. You couldn’t wait to see his shocked expression when you appeared on his doorstep. Taking one last look at the photo, you returned the phone to the table before burying yourself under the covers.

After forcing yourself to lie still for ten minutes, you were finally able to drift off, dreaming of the man you loved so dearly.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You stared out the train window with narrowed eyes, arms folded over your chest. Your finger was tapping roughly against your arm, leg bouncing up and down quickly to show off your annoyance. The scenery outside was still as the train sat, unmoving, on the tracks.

“Calm down,” chuckled your father, his eyes dancing with amusement as he peered at you over his newspaper.

“Why aren’t we moving? We’ve been sitting still for nearly twenty minutes!”

He quirked a brow before glancing at his watch. “It’s only been ten, dear.”

“Same thing!” You threw your hands up in frustration. “What do you think is going on?”

He hummed. “Perhaps a portal opened up and they’re trying to decide if it’ll take us to Hogwarts.”

“Dad, I’m serious!” You sent him an exasperated look and he chuckled.

“Calm down,” he set the newspaper onto the seat beside him before standing up. “I’ll see what I can find out.” He paused, sending you a grin. “Don’t get taken by a dementor!”

You rolled your eyes at his antics but a smile came to your lips despite the frustration you felt. You kept glancing between the window and the aisle as you waited for your father to return. About eight minutes later, he was sitting down across from you once more.

You looked at him expectantly but he just resumed reading his newspaper as if you weren’t waiting for him to speak. You narrowed your eyes at him, attempting to bore a hole into him. When you saw the corners of his lips twitch, you knew he was doing it just to annoy you. 

“Dad!”

“Hm? Yes, sweety?” He looked at you innocently yet he couldn’t hold back his shit-eating grin or the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I swear, I’m going to pour coffee into the toaster when we get home.”

The grin immediately fell into a frown. “Not toasty! He’s old, you know!”

You rolled your eyes, giving him an exasperated look. “Sometimes I wonder which of us is the actual parent…”

He snickered. “A flink of cows were crossing the tracks so they’re trying together them out of the way.”

You blinked at him dumbly. “A flink?”

He nodded and the two of you just stared at each other.

When you realized he had no intention of explaining himself, you asked, “What the hell is a flink?”

“How do you not know?” He sent you a disappointed look, shaking his head. “A group of twelve cows is called a flink. What are they teaching you at that school?”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Unless someone plans to become a farmer, no one needs to know that information, dad. You and your useless information, I swear…”

“Hey, one day my useless information will come in handy and you’ll be grateful!”

“When? When would that ever possibly come in handy?”

“Well…” he tapped his chin in thought for a moment. “Say we get kidnapped -“

“Oh my god.”

“Right? That would be shocking.”

You sent him a deadpan look which he promptly ignored.

“Say the kidnapper is a quiz enthusiast. Maybe he was inspired by the Saw franchise. He looks over at us and says, ‘If you can answer a random question, I’ll set you free. If you fail, I’ll cut off eight limbs with a rusty hacksaw.'”

He purposefully made his voice deep and gravelly when he said this, clearly trying to imitate the ‘killer.’ This caught the attention of the woman sitting in the opposite aisle and she sent him a strange, horrified look. You returned it with an apologetic smile.

“Oi, dad, I don’t think -“

“If he asks about a group of twelve cows, I’ve just saved both of our lives.”

“He would never ask that!”

“You’re right, we live in the city so he’d be more likely to ask where the word ‘squirrel’ originated from.”

“Dad -“

“It originated from the Greek words ‘skia’ and ‘oura’ which translates to Shadow Tail!” He grinned, sending you a look as if waiting for you to praise him for his knowledge.

Instead, you just exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel a headache coming on and there were still five hours to go before arriving in Toaru city. You loved your dad, but sometimes he was just too much of a headache.

After five more unwanted facts about squirrels, the train slowly started to lurch forward, the tracks squealing as it picked up speed.

“Finally,” you muttered, turning your gaze toward the window as the scenery started to pass by in a blur. 

With a satisfied nod, he picked up his newspaper and continued where he had left off, finally giving you some peace and quiet.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You frowned, pulling the phone away from your ear. It was the fifth time you’ve called Yuken since arriving in the city and, each time, it went straight to voice mail. He wasn’t answering any of his text messages, either.

You had stopped by his home, as well, but his sister claimed that he hadn’t returned home from school yet. It was only five in the afternoon so this wasn’t too unusual, she claimed. He oftentimes didn’t return home until well after the sun had set.

What was unusual, though, was the fact that he was completely ghosting you. Unless he was sleeping, he always made time to answer your call or, at the very least, text you to let you know he was busy at the moment and couldn’t talk. You couldn’t remember a single time he had ignored you like this.

When the two of you first started dating, Yuken made you promise never to visit Housen without him. He claimed it was unsafe and he didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to you. Honestly, that was fine with you, but now? Now, you were considering breaking that promise.

Maybe you were just overreacting because the situation was unusual, but something felt off to you. There was a feeling that had settled in your gut upon first stepping off the train and it hadn’t gone away. You couldn’t put a name to it, though you knew it wasn’t anything positive.

The trip to Housen was uneventful, but you realized quickly why he didn’t want you to go there alone. The students were all large, beefy males with bald heads. They stared at you through narrowed eyes, watching every move you made as you slowly headed into the school. Honestly, you had to wonder if you were at the right place.

Surely Yuken would be bald, as well, if he attended this school, but you had run your fingers through his silky locks on more than one occasion and you knew it was real.

“Can I help you?”

Your head snapped to the side at the voice, seeing a tall, brown-haired male standing in the middle of the hallway. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his grey uniform. A thick bandage was taped to his left cheek, eye bruised, a cut on his chin and his lip split. 

“Oh, um…” you shifted your weight, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m looking for Odajima Yuken.”

Monji’s eyes narrowed at you suspiciously as he sized you up. You didn’t seem like a spy from another school and you had a different aura than the people he usually faced. He was confident in his ability to tell who was a threat and who wasn’t and he was sure that you were no threat. Even so, he wouldn’t let his guard down, as is expected of Housen’s future leader.

“Why are you looking for him?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Monji was caught off guard, eyes widening. Had he heard you correctly or was his concussion messing with his hearing? “E-Eh? What did you just say?”

“Yuken is my boyfriend,” you repeated with a frown, taking a worried step closer to him. “I’ve been calling him all day but he isn’t answering and I’m really worried!”

He could see the genuine concern within your eyes but he was still hooked on the claim that Yuken was your boyfriend. The taller male hadn’t mentioned anything about you nor had he dropped any hints that he was dating someone. “Can you prove it?”

“Huh?” You blinked dumbly.

“Prove that you’re dating him.”

You didn’t feel as if you needed to prove anything to this man, honestly, but your worry for Yuken was stronger and you would do anything if it meant you got to see him and know that he was okay. Tugging your phone from your pocket, you unlocked it before holding it out.

Monji took a step closer, eyes narrowed at the screen. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting and he was left completely surprised to see a picture of yourself and Yuken, embracing each other and smiling.

“Here’s your proof, now please go get him!”

“He’s not here,” frowned Monji, folding his arms over his chest. “But I’ll take you to him.”

“Where is he?”

“The hospital.”

Your eyes widened in shock, heart skipping a beat. “What? Is he okay?!”

“He will be,” he nodded, brushing past you and toward the door. “Odajima-senpai is one of our strongest members.”

With a confused frown, you started after him. Perhaps following someone you didn’t know was a bad idea yet you did so without hesitation, more concerned about your boyfriend than your own safety.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Yuken sat up in bed, eating a cup of jello as he watched the tiny TV mounted against the wall. His leg was in a cast, propped up atop a stack of pillows. A white bandage was wrapped around his right arm and shoulder, a purple bruise resting against his cheek.

“It’s mine,” scowled Jinkawa as he tried to grab the chocolate pudding. “I called it first!”

Shidaken scowled, his own hand attempting to grab the pudding cup. “What, are you five? You can’t just claim something like that!”

“I just did!”

Sawamura sighed deeply. “If you’re going to argue, do it quietly. If the nurse scolds us again, she’s going to make us leave!”

Sabakan snickered from the bathroom as he looked into the mirror, fixing up his hair. “You’re yelling, too, Sawamura-kun.”

The bald male scowled at the comment, realizing Sabakan was right. What was he supposed to do, though? Those two didn’t respond to anything else. Half the time, they didn’t even respond to the yelling.

“First come, first serve,” snapped Jinkawa. “Eat the vanilla.”

“No way! The vanilla is sugar-free and tastes like ass!”

“Oh, how do you know what ass tastes like?” Sabakan quirked a brow as he stepped out of the bathroom. A smirk slid onto his lips when Shidaken’s face turned red at the implication.

“S-Shut up!”

“Stop yelling,” hissed Sawamura, glancing at the door when he heard footsteps out in the hall. “Yuken-san, say something to them.”

Yuken quirked a brow as the four boys turned to stare at him, waiting for him to speak. Honestly, he didn’t care one way or another, he just wanted to enjoy his jello in peace. Their arguing was giving him a major headache, too.

With a sigh, he placed his jello cup down and reached for the pudding. They held it tightly, making him scowl as he had to force it from their grip. Pulling the lid off, he grabbed a spoon and began to dip it out onto the empty plate sitting on the table. He created two piles on either side of the plate until the cup was empty.

“Happy now?”

The two males blinked at the plate for a moment before scowling and voicing their complaints. It was hard to understand what they were saying as they spoke over each other but they clearly weren’t happy. One thing he managed to understand was that, apparently, the piles were not even.

With a groan, his head fell back against the pillow, hand covering his eyes as the two started to argue over which pile they deserved. 

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

As Monji approached Yuken’s room, he hesitated. He could hear the commotion inside and knew that the others had stayed with Yuken since the accident. They were a lot closer to him than Monji was so he worried about how they would take this news.

He had no doubt in his mind that Yuken kept you a secret to keep you safe and he had to wonder if he was doing the right thing by bringing you here. Perhaps he should have called ahead first to ensure that the other boys weren’t around.

You reached for the door but he held his hand up to stop you, earning a confused look.

“There’s something you need to know first…”

Your brow furrowed and you glanced nervously at the door. “How… how bad is he?”

“It’s not that, it’s just -“

There was a loud noise from inside the room, followed by the yelling of two males. With a racing heart, you pushed Monji out of the way and rushed into the room. The sound of the door slamming open caught the attention of the males inside, save for Jinkawa and Shidaken who were on the floor, wrestling.

Yuken felt the breath leave his lungs when he saw you and he tried to push himself up, wincing as pain shot through his leg. You rushed over to his side with a frown, quickly scanning his wounds.

“Don’t move,” you scolded softly, hand on his chest to stop him from getting up. 

He breathed out your name, hand resting over your own. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you frowned. “You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried…”

“Ah, my phone…” He winced at the thought of his poor phone being drowned in the river. Sabakan had managed to find it, but despite days of sitting in rice, he had lost hope that his phone would dry out enough to be usable again. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

You smiled softly, brushing his hair behind his ear. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Your eyes flickered to his leg and your smile dropped a bit. “Well, mostly. What in the world happened?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” he pouted. “I’m fine.”

You scoffed. “A broken leg isn’t nothing. And look at your beautiful face…” You gently brushed your thumb over the bruise.

Sawamura blinked dumbly at you, his gaze flickering to Monji and back. “Uh… who are you?”

Yuken cursed mentally when he realized that the two of you weren’t alone. Before he could speak, though, you straightened your back and introduced yourself to the bald male.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you bowed politely. 

Sawamura bowed back, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you know, Yuken-san?”

Yuken tried to call out your name to stop you but you were quicker, responding without hesitation.

“He’s my boyfriend!”

The room went dead silent. Even Jinkawa and Shidaken finally stopped fighting, staring at you in disbelief. Yuken held back a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose because he knew what was coming.

In the blink of an eye, Jinkawa, Shikaden and Sabakan surrounded the two of you, screaming out questions that overlapped one another, making it impossible to distinguish what was being said.

You backed up against the bedside table, holding your hands up in surrender as you smiled nervously at the large men surrounding you. 

“Oi!” yelled Yuken with a scowl, grabbing Shikaden’s arm since he was the closest. “Knock it off!”

He scowled back in response. “How could you not tell us?!”

Jinkawa nodded, arms folded over his chest. “Seriously, Odajima! Not only are you dating someone, but you’re dating someone this cute and you didn’t tell us? I’m offended!”

Sabakan leaned toward you curiously, hand on his chin. “I’m curious how the two of you met. I mean, you’re clearly out of his league.”

“Hey!” Yuken’s scowl deepened at the insult. “This is why I didn’t tell you idiots.”

“How long have you been dating?” demanded Jinkawa, his dark eyes falling on you.

“Oh, um…” you glanced at your boyfriend and he sent you an apologetic look. “About a year -“

“A year?!” The three chorused loudly.

“Guys!” hissed Sawamura but it was too late.

The door was slammed open, a middle-aged woman appearing in the doorway with fire in her eyes. “That’s it! I’ve told you brats to keep it down five times and I’ve had enough! All of you, out!”

“But -” Jinkawa tried to protest but even he winced when her glare fell on him. He quickly bowed his head, muttering an apology before quickly leaving the room with the others following suit. 

Her eyes fell on you and you winced under the weight of her glare. “You, too!”

Yuken’s arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you down onto the bed beside him. His chin rested on your shoulder as he sent the nurse a pout. “If you kick everyone out, I’ll get lonely.”

She pursed her lips in thought, hands on her hips. After a tense moment of silence, she finally gave in to his request. “Fine, but if you create a ruckus like those boys, you’re out. Understand?”

You nodded quickly and when she finally left the room, you released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

Yuken chuckled softly. “She’s terrifying, right? I’ve never seen anyone put those guys into their place like that. It’s pretty amusing.”

You hummed, shifting on the bed so you could see him better. “As long as she’s taking care of you properly.”

“She’s a great nurse, don’t worry.” He leaned toward you, forehead resting against your own. “I’m sorry for worrying you, love. I should have called.”

“Don’t apologize. You getting rest and healing is more important.” You scanned his face with a frown, brushing the hair from his face. “Will you tell me what happened?”

He really didn’t want to because, truth be told, he felt embarrassed. Yuken was a strong man, a fighter who rarely lost to anyone. He took pride in his strength and his long-standing win streak and yet… the great Odajima Yuken had been bested.

By a fish.

The thought made him scowl, hand running through his hair in frustration.

“Yuken,” you stressed with a sigh. “If you’re trying to protect me, you’re a bit late.”

“Huh?” His head snapped toward you, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Were you hurt?”

“No,” you shook your head, chuckling at his reaction. His concern did bring about a warm feeling within your chest, though. “I’ve known since the day we met that you’re a delinquent.”

“How?” His brow furrowed as confusion and frustration collided within him. He had gone out of his way to ensure that you never found out about the lifestyle he had chosen only for you to tell him it had been all for naught.

“Your sister told me,” you admitted, offering him a sheepish smile. “That first week when we started to hang out with each other, she saw us on one of our dates. Before I left town, she tracked me down and told me that I needed to be careful.”

Yuken groaned, letting himself fall back against the pillow. “Damn it, nee-chan…”

You chuckled softly, hand resting on his stomach. “She was looking out for both of us. She didn’t want us to get close only for me to find out the truth the hard way and then break your heart.”

For a moment, he considered your words, his eyes finding yours. “You stayed…”

“I did. I knew the risks but… I believed the reward was worth the risk.”

“And was it?” he asked softly, his hand finding yours.

You couldn’t stop the smile that came to your lips as you leaned closer. “Yeah… it was definitely worth it.”

He grinned, propping himself up on his elbows so he could close the distance, claiming your lips. You didn’t hesitate to return it, head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss.

“Awwwwww!”

The two of you broke apart, heads snapping toward the door. Jinkawa and Shikaden were peering around the door with grins on their faces. Even the nurse was standing beside them with a warm smile on her face. When she realized she had been caught, her cheeks darkened and she cleared her throat.

“I told you boys to leave!” Her voice lacked the bite it had possessed earlier. She shooed them away, ignoring their protests.

Yuken sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry about them. They can be… a bit much.”

You chuckled. “So it seems, but they also seem nice. I’m looking forward to getting to know them.”

His eyes lit up with surprise. “You want to?”

“Your friends are my friends.” You paused for a moment before adding, “If you’re okay with that, I mean.”

“Absolutely,” he breathed, arms slipping around your waist so he could pull you against his body. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too~ Now tell me what happened.”

He groaned, hugging you tighter. “Can’t you just forget about it?”

“Your leg is broken,” you scoffed. “Doesn’t exactly heal overnight, you know.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he sighed, sending you a serious look when you sat up. “But you can’t laugh.”

“Scout’s honor,” you replied seriously, holding one hand up while placing the other over your heart.

He was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I was fishing with a friend of mine. It was a slow day and we barely got any bites. Then, out of nowhere, there was a heavy tug on my rod. It nearly flew into the river but I managed to catch it in time. This fish was huge, baby, and he was putting up quite the fight.”

You nodded as you listened to the story, taking note of how his eyes lit up as he recalled the memory. His hands were re-enacting it, as well, as if he could feel the rod in his hands once more.

“Todoroki-chan told me to cut the line when I was nearly pulled into the water, but I refused. I dug in my heels, determined to catch him!” He scowled at the window, eyes narrowed. “He was determined not to be caught, though, and, well…”

“Well?” You quirked a brow, waiting patiently.

A small dusting of pink came to his cheeks as he folded his arms over his chest. “I was pulled into the river…”

“You broke your leg from just falling in the river?”

“…”

“Yuken…”

“I didn’t let the rod go and the bastard dragged me through the water until I hit the large buoy… I tried to brace myself with my feet…”

“Ouch,” you winced at the thought, a frown on your lips. “Why didn’t you let go of the rod?”

“It was my favorite one… a Rodeo Ride Reviver 70XH Battle Cry with a limited edition dragon design printed on it! I barely slept for two weeks because I was trying to win it through a radio show and I finally got it! Take that, Yamisaka, you bastard.“

You stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly. When the words finally sank in, you couldn’t help but chuckle, bringing your hand to your mouth.

He frowned at you, arms folded over his chest. “You said you wouldn’t laugh… scout’s honor, remember?”

“I was never a scout,” you grinned.

He gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “The betrayal…”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I just didn’t realize you were so into fishing,” you explained with a smile. “You’re so cute when you’re talking about it.”

Yuken quirked a brow. “Am I not cute when I’m not talking about it?”

“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin.

“Oi,” he scowled, nudging you with his uninjured leg. “That’s not something you should have to think about, ya know.”

“You’re always cute. You’re just cuter when you’re talking about your passions.”

A smile came to his lips, warmth filling him. He held his arms out and you didn’t hesitate to move closer, resting against his chest as his arms encircled you. Yuken wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve you but he was determined to never let you go.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[coltermorning]

Masterlist

Arthur Morgan Fanfiction

All posts are 18+, minors DNI

High Honor Arthur Morgan:

The Last Words Spoken female reader, mature (reading Arthur’s journal)

Where Stubbornness Leads female reader, mature/explicit (acting as Arthur’s wife)

When Lightning Strikes Twice female reader, explicit (switching bodies with Arthur)

Of Love and Loss female reader, mature/explicit (recovering from grief with Arthur)

Halloween female reader, explicit (showing off your Halloween costume to Arthur)

Something New female reader, explicit (trying something different with Arthur)

A Christmas to Remember female reader, mature (spending the holidays with Arthur)

Dual Honor Arthur Morgan:

Wanted female reader, mature/explicit (evading your bounty and Arthur)

Low Honor Arthur Morgan:

The Hat female reader, explicit (taking Arthur’s hat)

Dominating Love female reader, explicit (tiring of Arthur’s overbearing ways)

If the Walls Could Speak female reader, explicit (confronting Arthur about a missing person)

A Rival of Wills female reader, explicit (stealing Arthur’s scores)

The Outlaw’s Way female reader, explicit (catching Arthur red handed)

The Freedom of Giving In female reader, explicit (calling Arthur the wrong name)

Updated 9/21/24

[allthemeniveloved]

It Will Come Back - Part 5

Summary: John whisks you away to Elysian Pool for the weekend to get some much-needed time away, as well as teach you a thing or two.

Tags: high honor John Marston x fem!reader, reader teases John about not being able to swim, John makes a dick joke, John Marston absolutely worships you, tooth rotting fluff, cavity inducing fluff, smut, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, choking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, praising, author is getting a little better at writing smut

wc: 4.4k

ao3 link

The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the canvas of the tent, casting warm, golden hues over the rumpled blankets tangled around you. The air was quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of birds, a rare moment of peace in the chaotic world you’d grown accustomed to. As you stirred, your cheek brushing against the rough fabric of the cot, you became acutely aware of John’s arm draped over your waist, holding you close. His warmth radiated against your back, steady and comforting, and the faint scent of leather and pine lingered in the space around you.

You tilted your head slightly, catching sight of him still asleep, his face softened in the morning light. The lines of worry and exhaustion that usually etched his features seemed less pronounced, his breathing slow and even. For a moment, you simply lay there, taking in the rare vulnerability he allowed himself in sleep, your heart swelling with an unexpected tenderness.

As you shifted to untangle yourself, his arm tightened instinctively, pulling you closer as a sleepy murmur escaped his lips. “Stay,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep but filled with a quiet plea. It sent a warmth through you that no sunrise could rival, and with a soft sigh, you relaxed back into him.

Your fingers moved hesitantly at first, brushing lightly along the rugged lines of John’s cheek. You traced the longest one, the faint silver line running down from just under his eye to his jaw, your fingertips lingering as you marveled at how perfectly it seemed to fit him—both strong and weathered, like the man himself.

He didn’t flinch under your touch, though his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a hint of self-consciousness. “They ain’t much to look at,” he murmured, his voice rough but tinged with vulnerability, like he was bracing for you to agree.

“Not much to look at?” you whispered, your voice filled with quiet affection as your thumb brushed over the scar on his chin. “I like them, a lot. They suit you.” you said with a smile.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as his hand came up to cover yours. “Didn’t think there was much to like about a busted-up face.”

“Well,” you said, leaning closer, your voice light but sincere, “I happen to think it’s perfect.” You kissed the scar on his jaw, lingering just enough to feel him relax, and his grin widened as he pulled you closer.

John’s hand came up to trace circles on your bare back, his calloused palm warm against your skin. “You’ve got a way of makin’ a man feel like he’s somethin’ better than he is,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re already better than you think,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly, letting your actions say what words couldn’t. Brushing your lips softly against his, with the warmth of the kiss bringing a quiet smile to your face. His hands rested gently on your back, holding you close as he melted in and kissed you back with an easy, unhurried affection that made your heart flutter.

As you lay tangled together in John’s cot, the soft rustle of the tent canvas blending with the distant hum of the camp, he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His gaze was warm, a small, playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he started, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm, “we could use a break from all this… madness. Just you and me. How about we get outta here for a couple days? Fresh air, quiet nights, no Dutch breathin’ down our necks.” His voice dropped to a tender murmur as he leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You deserve a little peace, darlin’. Let me give it to you.”

You blinked up at him, his words sinking in like a warm balm against the chaos that had been your constant companion lately. A small, surprised smile tugged at your lips as you reached up, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. “You really mean it?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hope and disbelief. His answering grin was all the confirmation you needed, and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that bubbled up as you nodded. “Okay, John. Let’s do it.” The thought of escaping, even if just for a little while, sent a flutter of relief through your chest as you leaned into him, your forehead brushing against his. “Thank you,” you whispered, your heart feeling a little lighter already.

John pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, his voice soft but filled with excitement. “I’ll get the horses ready—meet me by Old Boy in a bit, darlin’. Don’t keep me waitin’ too long now.”

"Where are you taking me exactly?" you asked, half-laughing at his determination.

"You'll see." he said simply, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just you and me.”

-

The journey to Elysian Pool was nothing short of serene, the kind of peace you hadn’t realized you craved until you were out in the open with John riding beside you. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth, and the distant hum of cicadas created a calming backdrop as your horses trotted along the narrow trail. John kept the mood light, his voice easy and warm as he pointed out the occasional animal or teased you about your riding skills.

“You’re keepin’ up alright,” he said with a playful grin, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Didn’t think Dahlia had it in her to go this fast.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe it’s your horse that needs to keep up, Marston.”

He laughed, the sound echoing through the trees, and for the first time in days, you felt your tension start to ease.

Dahlia was a sleek, all-black Arabian mare, her glossy coat shimmering like polished obsidian under the moonlight, every muscle finely sculpted for speed and grace. Her alert, intelligent eyes and delicate, arched neck gave her an almost regal presence, and she carried herself with a quiet confidence that matched your own perfectly. Dahlia wasn’t just a horse—she was the last gift your father had given you before he passed, a spirited black Arabian with a gleam in her eye that reminded you of him. You could still hear his voice, proud and warm, as he handed you the reins for the first time: “She’s got your fire, kid. Treat her right, and she’ll take care of you.” You couldn't help but to smile at the memory.

As the sound of rushing water grew louder, John slowed his horse, gesturing toward the clearing just ahead. The sight of Elysian Pool was even more breathtaking than you expected. The waterfall cascaded down in a glittering rush, the sound of the water filling the air with a soothing rhythm that seemed to wash away every lingering worry. Mist hung in the cool air, catching the sunlight and creating a faint rainbow at the edges of the pool. The soft grass near the water’s edge was lush and inviting, a perfect spot to rest and forget, at least for a while, the chaos waiting back at camp.

John dismounted first, his boots crunching softly against the earth as he reached up to help you down. “Told ya this was worth the ride,” he said with a grin, “Figured this was better than listenin’ to Bill snore all night,” he joked, helping you down. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s beautiful, John,” you said softly, your voice almost lost in the roar of the waterfall.

He spread out the blanket on a patch of grass overlooking the water and gestured for you to sit. The moment you did, he settled beside you, leaning back on his elbows with an air of relaxed satisfaction. “We both needed this,” he said, glancing at you. “Somewhere quiet. No Dutch, no plans, no nothin’.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and for a moment, the only sound between you was the roar of the falls. Then, as if to break the spell, John reached over to pluck a blade of grass, twirling it between his fingers.

“You ever seen someone try to fish with just their hands?” he asked, his grin turning mischievous.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to try.”

“Oh, I’d manage just fine,” he said, leaning closer with a teasing glint in his eye. “But it’d probably scare off all the fish. Let’s just stick to relaxin’ for now.”

“Fishing with your hands, huh?” you teased, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. “Might be a little tricky for someone who can’t even swim. What’re you gonna do if you fall in? Charm the fish into draggin’ you back to shore?” His head snapped toward you, his face a mix of amusement and mock indignation as he straightened up. “You’re real funny, you know that? Maybe I oughta toss you in first, see how well you swim with all that sass.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you nudged him with your elbow. “Face it, Marston—you’d be bored stiff without me.”

He chuckled, leaning a little closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe, but don’t let it go to your head, darlin’. I ain’t about to start sayin’ you’re always right.”

"And for the record, I'm stiff when you're around anyway so it wouldn't make much of a difference."

“John Marston!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with mock outrage as you reached out and gave his arm a light slap. He chuckled, feigning innocence as he rubbed the spot where you’d hit him. “What’d I do now?” he teased, his grin widening. You rolled your eyes, but the laughter bubbling up between you made it impossible to keep a straight face. “You know exactly what you did,” you shot back, shaking your head at him, though the warmth in your smile betrayed your amusement.

-

The sun had dipped low, casting the waterfall and the clearing in a soft, golden glow as John paced a few feet ahead of you, his revolver dangling lazily from his fingers.

“You know,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I’ve been meanin’ to teach you a thing or two about shootin’.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Shooting?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Are you sure this is necessary? I think I do fine without a gun in my hand.”

“Maybe,” John replied, his tone light but edged with seriousness. “But what happens when I ain’t around to back you up?” His expression softened as he stepped closer, holding the revolver out to you. “C’mon, darlin’. Just humor me, alright?”

You’d always preferred the subtlety of slipping a wallet from a pocket or a watch from a wrist over the loud, messy chaos of a firefight. You’d always known enough about gunslinging to survive when it counted—a few well-placed shots here, a quick draw there—but it was never something you excelled at or even cared to perfect. Your aim was steady enough to hit a target if you had to, and you’d managed to bluff your way out of enough tight spots with a revolver in hand to keep trouble at bay. Quick hands and a sharp mind had kept you alive far more often than a gun ever had, though John seemed determined to change that.

With a sigh, you took the weapon, the cool metal heavy in your grip. He moved behind you, his hands coming to rest lightly on your shoulders as he adjusted your stance. His voice was low and steady, brushing against your ear like a warm breeze. “Relax,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to guide your arms into position. “Don’t hold it too tight, but keep it firm. You wanna be in control, not the gun.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at his closeness, his steady presence both grounding and distracting at the same time. He pointed toward a rock at the far edge of the clearing, his hand brushing against yours as he helped you aim. “See that? Focus on it. Line up the sights, and when you’re ready, squeeze the trigger—don’t yank it.”

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, squeezing the trigger as the shot rang out, echoing against the falls. The bullet missed the rock by a small margin, striking harmlessly into the dirt, and you groaned in frustration.

John chuckled softly, his hands squeezing your shoulders in encouragement. “Not bad for a first try. You’re just gettin’ the feel for it.”

After a few more attempts, with John’s patient guidance and a string of playful teases when you missed, you finally chipped the rock. You let out a triumphant laugh, spinning to face him. “I did it!”

He grinned, his pride in you unmistakable as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Told ya you could. You’re a natural, darlin’.”

You swatted at his arm playfully. “A natural, huh? You might want to hold off on the flattery until I can actually hit something without you babysitting me.”

He laughed, leaning in slightly, his tone softening. “You’re better than you think. And one day, you’re gonna see that for yourself.”

As the evening wore on, the lesson turned into an easy rhythm of shooting and playful banter. By the time the sun sank below the horizon, leaving the clearing bathed in twilight, you found yourself more confident with the weapon—and more drawn to John’s unwavering belief in you.

Eventually, you found it harder and harder to focus. His voice, low and gravelly, was meant to be instructive, but the warmth of his breath brushing your ear and the way his fingers lingered on your wrists sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in closer, adjusting your grip, his chest brushing against your back, and it was enough to make your heart race faster than the gunfire you were supposed to be practicing. “Darlin’, keep your eyes on the target,” he murmured, his tone teasing but steady. But you couldn’t. Spinning on your heel, you dropped the revolver to your side and pulled him toward you, crashing your lips against his in a kiss filled with all the tension you couldn’t keep bottled up. For a moment, he froze, surprised, before his hands slipped around your waist, drawing you closer as he kissed you back with just as much fervor, the lesson momentarily—and blissfully—forgotten.

John’s grip on your waist tightened as the kiss deepened, his calloused hands pulling you flush against him as if he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you. The forgotten revolver slipped from your hand, landing softly in the grass, but neither of you noticed or cared. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that sent your pulse racing, his usual cocky demeanor melting away into something raw and unrestrained.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, John rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close. “Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ve got a hell of a way of interruptin’ a lesson.”

You laughed softly, your hands still tangled in his shirt as you looked up at him, your cheeks warm from both the kiss and his teasing. “Maybe I just found something more interestin’ than shootin’ targets,” you quipped, unable to hide the grin spreading across your face.

John chuckled, his thumb brushing your cheek, his expression softening. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, though his tone carried no bite, just affection.

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice quiet but full of warmth. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

His grin widened, and he leaned down to press another quick, lingering kiss to your lips before finally stepping back, though his hands never quite left your waist. “Alright,” he said, his voice lighter now, “we’ll call it a break—for now. But you’re still learnin’ how to shoot proper, whether you distract me or not.”

You smirked as you slowly and gently backed him towards the nearest tree, his words filling you with a quiet joy. “We’ll see about that, Marston.” But John Marston was always two steps ahead of you, and before you knew it, he spun you around, pressing his thigh between your legs as your back hit the tree. You couldn't stop the gasp from leaving your lips as his large hand wrapped around your throat, applying perfect pressure.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "you're playin' with fire here." His thigh pressed tighter against your core, and warmth curled in your abdomen at the feeling of your cunt dragging across John's thigh, your folds sliding through the slick that's began pooling in your undergarments. Each roll of your hips sent sparks of pleasure racing up your spine, stoking the flames of your desire higher and higher. John's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fought the urge to rip your clothes off and take you right then and there. But he held back, letting you set the pace, content to revel in the delicious friction of your body against his.

"Careful what ya wish for, baby," he warned, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. "Keep this up and I won't be responsible for my actions."

You just laugh, "Oh, I'm counting on it," your breathed, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine. And with that, you redoubled her efforts, grinding against him with wild abandon.

"Good girl," he adds in a low tone as you let out a choked out whine when he tightens his grip and guides your next stroke. "Good fucking girl."

"John," you cry out as you continue to grind against him, that coil tightening inside of you.

He presses sloppy open mouthed kisses to the exposed skin on your neck, all the way down to your collarbone.

"Go on, take what you need," he says hoarsely. " Use me. I know you're close. I can feel it." he urges. The hand currently squeezing your neck slips away and clamps over your mouth as you desperately chase your release. You stick your tongue out and lick the palm of his hand before taking his two middle fingers in your mouth.

"Jesus, princess, you're filthy." John lets out a loud groan in unexpected satisfaction as you eagerly suck on his fingers.

Something in his tone made that coil snap inside of you, your nails digging into his shirt as stars danced across your vision. You came hard, your thighs trembling, the only thing holding you up was his hand on your hip and his thigh between your legs.

John groaned as your release coated his thigh, the heat of your essence seeping through the denim. He could still feel you trembling above him, your body shuddering with the aftershocks of your pleasure.

"Fuck, baby," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "You made quite a mess of me."

You just smirked, eyes glinting with mischief as you slowly slid down his body, making quick work of his gun belt. "I ain't done yet, cowboy." Before John could even catch his breath, you had his cock free, your hot breath ghosting over his sensitive flesh.

"Jesus, darlin'" he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily. The sight of his cock went straight to your already dripping pussy as you looked up to him with eyes that begged for permission. That was all the encouragement you needed as you grabbed the base of his cock, feeling how the veins throbbed under your touch.

He's unbelievably hard and leaking as you slowly slide your tongue around the tip of him before taking his curved head into your mouth. John takes a deep, shaky breath as you suck softly on the head of his cock, fluttering your tongue along a bead of precum he's leaking.

"That's my girl," he murmured, his voice hoarse as he tightens the grip on your hair. You take him deep, the very tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, over and over again. Your tongue fits along the curve of him, massaging him with every soft corner of your mouth, and you can't help but to notice John's breathing changes.

"You're so fucking pretty like this, darlin'. All mine."

Your thighs press together tightly to subdue the ache in your pussy. His hips move in time with your head, fucking your throat with feral grunts that has slick pooling at your entrance. Your hands move to his thighs for stability, throat burning with the stretch of him as you gag, saliva dripping out of the sides of your mouth.

He tears himself away, hand grabbing you by the throat to pull you to your feet and lock eyes with him.

"You're too good at that baby." He breathes as he forcibly twisted you around presses your chest against the tree.

"You want more? Beg for it."

You nodded frantically, "Please, John," you begged, voice high and needy. "I need you inside me. I need you to fill me up."

Without warning, John spanked you. You gasped at the sweet pain that spread across from your skin.

"That's not my name." He answered, his tone was cold and firm.

"Fuck - daddy! I'm sorry."

With a low growl, John lifted your skirt, ripping your panties away, baring you to his hungry gaze. He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing with shallow thrusts that had you keening in frustration.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his eyes blazing with lust. "Keep begging for my cock, princess."

"Please, daddy," you sobbed, hips bucking back toward him. "Please, I need it. I need you. Make me yours."

That was all John wanted to hear. It filled him with pride to hear the vulgar words fall from your lips for him, watching you plead for his cock. And with that, John slammed home, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful stroke. You cried out, back arching deeper as he began to move, his hips snapping against yours with brutal force. He quickly slid his hand around to the front of your throat, finding solace there once more as he squeezed tightly and pulled your body flush against his as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

"Fuck, baby," he grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so fucking wet. Takin' my cock so well." You could only moan in response, hands clutching his forearm for purchase as John fucked you harder and faster. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded with need.

"That's it, princess," he growled, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "Take what I give you."

John was so close to you, so deep inside of you with his intoxicating scent filling your lungs leaving your body on fire, every nerve ending lit with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. You could feel his cock hitting deep inside, touching places you didn't even know existed.

"Please," you sobbed, hips bucking back to meet his thrusts. "Please, daddy, I need... I need..."

"I know what ya need, baby," John rasped, his hand leaving your throat to slide between your legs. He found your clit and rubbed it mercilessly, pushing you to the brink of madness.

You came with a scream in no time, with your body convulsing in John's arms as he followed you over the edge. He buried himself deep inside of you, groaning your name as he filled you with his seed once again.

You both stayed like that for a long moment in an attempt to catch your breaths, bodies entwined and glistening with sweat in the moonlight. And as John finally pulled out and tucked himself back in, you begin to notice just how weak your legs had become. He finds your discarded panties on the ground nearby and shoves them in his back pocket. The cool night air wrapped around you as John’s strong arms lifted you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest like you weighed nothing. You were boneless, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your multiple intense orgasms. Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his footsteps and the warmth of his body lulling you into a haze of exhaustion and comfort.

“How do you feel?” he murmured softly, his voice filled with both affection and worry. The sound of the waterfall faded behind you as he carried you back toward the tent, his hold protective and unyielding up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as your legs had given out beneath you.

"Mmhm," John couldn't help but laugh at your failure to string together a sentence.

The stars twinkled brightly overhead, their reflection rippling faintly in the still water of Elysian Pool as you and John settled on the blanket by the fire he’d built earlier. The sound of the waterfall was a constant, soothing rush in the background, blending with the gentle crackle of the fire as it cast flickering shadows across the grass. You curled up beside him, your head resting against his chest, his arm draped securely around your shoulders. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along your arm, the touch grounding and filled with quiet affection.

“You know,” John murmured, his voice low and warm, “nights like this… makes me think we could have a life like this someday. Just us, somewhere peaceful, no gang, no runnin’.”

You smiled sleepily, your eyes drifting closed as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. “I’d like that,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the calming symphony of the night.

His lips brushed the top of your head in a tender kiss, his arm tightening slightly around you. “You deserve it, darlin’. More than anyone I know.”

The weight of his words and the warmth of his embrace lulled you into a serene haze, and as you drifted off, you felt him shift slightly, his other hand resting protectively over yours. “Sleep tight,” he whispered softly, his voice fading into the night. “I’ve got you.” And with the waterfall murmuring in the distance, you let yourself believe, just for a little while, that a life outside of the gang existed.

꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰

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