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red-doll-face · 10 days ago

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lowhonor arthur who's just obsessed with u. . . 😵‍💫

DOLLLYYY thank you for this wonderful request i was so excited to see a req from you in my inbox queen 😭😭😭 I LOVE YOU !!! 💖💖😊😊🥰🥰also thank you again for the one you wrote for me !! 🥹🥹 I tried really hard on this and im actually super proud of how it came out, I had my bf who is a lh arthur player weigh in on some dialogue sooooo i finally have a lh arthur committee to fall back on LMAO I hope you like it !! tysm for reading and any feedback makes me 😊😊😊 also made it a bit long as always w me ... Warnings: Arthur is a meanie , low honor arthur as a warning. like hes a jerk but what were we expecting?? however complete weenie for you like hes down bad. also sad arthur like he has his issues where he thinks he isnt a stud?? like i need a bucket of his nut rn sorryyyy

In Arthur's opinion, you only deserve joy and nothing less.

low honor Arthur Morgan x fem. reader

Do you have to be so goddamn distracting? He swears your giggle is the loudest of the girls, when they’re no doubt filling each other in about the latest camp affairs. He has to look over from where he was brushing his horse's glossy coat in the blazing sun. The grumpy shire gets annoyed at the loss of contact, turning to mouth at Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur's hand is squeezing the brush, as to make all the blood rush away from his knuckles. You sit there with Karen on the chairs outside the girl’s tent, whispering in her ear, before laughing again. The prettiest thing, your hair bouncing and your hand rising to your chest. Karen nudges your shoulder. And she turns to see him staring. The glare she sends his way isn’t all too unexpected.

But then Karen whispers to you as well. Her eyes flick over to where he’s standing. He looks away before the inevitable. Your eyes on him, curious, searching over him. He hates how that idea makes him feel, being perceived by you. Arthur wonders what you think. Some sad sap eyeing a young lady such as you. He looks down at his dirty shirt, the smell of horse flesh and hair clinging to him. You probably think he’s repulsive to look at. His brows draw together, his jaw gets tight. You must think he’s horrible, like Karen does. Cruel and awful. You wouldn’t be wrong. And he knows he shouldn’t do any of the things he thinks about doing but his impulses can be hard to control. The anxiety makes him almost nauseous. Heat brewing, his chest feeling tighter than he’d like; than he’d ever admit to a living soul. But his journal later tonight is another thing. He stuffs the horse brush back into his saddle bag. Why couldn’t he just ignore you? Push you from his mind, keep you from having any sort of affect on him? He’s not too sure.

Maybe it’s the way you catch his eye whenever you walk past, your skirt brushing against his leg. He knows you’re a real sweet thing. He loathed to see Ms. Grimshaw bring you to tears over your inability to perform to her standards. He had been all too eager to get some sort of odd revenge for you, being sure to dig in deep with remarks, his words feeling more barbed than usual. Being an attack dog he supposed, came all too easy. Not that you noticed particularly but it's more for his pride than anything else.

When he turns, you’re still looking, tilting your head. The expression on your face falters when you see him looking, your cute little lips parting before you avert your eyes, not even bothering to keep your head from facing towards him. You look nervous too. He imagines it’s because you might think about him just as much as he does of you. That at night, you might think of your girlish fantasies, ones where he holds your hand or gives you a smile, meant just for your eyes. Nothing so depraved as his own visions. But he knows you most likely don't think much of him at all. He huffs, scratching at his beard. He needs a smoke and maybe a drink, just to take a bit of the weight off of his chest at just the thought of you.

After dinner, you sit with Lenny. He tells you something that makes you laugh again. He seethes, it’s not him getting them from you but it’s still sends a shiver through him. He could swear he gets goosebumps. Your laugh is prettier than any of that droning music Dutch plays from his scratchy gramophone. Beautiful really. If he could keep your laugh to himself, he would. Would listen to it over and over. Would tell every joke he has. Hell, even the dirty ones. Instead, he’s listening to Bill ramble about how he doesn’t appreciate the folk around here thinking he’s as dumb as a donkey.

“It ain’t for no reason people think you’re a dumbass, Bill. It’s because you are. Kinda smell like a donkey too,” Arthur drawls, his natural inclination to getting under people’s skin only spiking at the sight of you smiling at Lenny. Fuckin’ kid. Arthur’s got nothing against him, only that he’s making you laugh. In another life, maybe he had that kind of easy and casual energy you liked, relaxed and amusing even. But he doesn’t, as evidenced by Bill’s blustering. He had tuned the first half of it out (focused on your lips, the roundness of your cheeks) but Bill is trying to sputter out a response as half as scathing as his own. Bill’s angry look only makes Arthur give his arrogant smile.

“And who asked you, Arthur?” The moron’s whiny voice only serves to annoy Arthur and cover up another one of your intoxicating giggles. Your joy was something to behold and Bill’s petulance is nothing special.

“You’re makin’ everyone dumber just by talkin’, why don’t you just shut your goddamn mouth?” Arthur shoots a nasty look at the other man until he turns red. John tells Bill to let it go. Arthur had pushed it too far but he doesn’t give even half a shit. Arthur dusts his thigh off before taking a sip from the bottle of whiskey gone warm in his palm. When you’re still talking to Lenny, he stands, forgetting the bottle on an errant crate. He approaches, trying to catch snippets of your conversation.

“-how come you like that game so much? Doesn’t it hurt when you mess up?”

“Well, I just don’t mess up and when I do, I take it on the chin. Don’t think I’d be any good otherwise,”

Your light laugh at Lenny's words makes him boil inside. Your bright simper; looking up at Lenny while the younger man stands, straight and as tall as he can. Proud smile, as if he can tell he’s impressed you. It all crumbles when Arthur comes near enough to be noticed. A stiff greeting falls from Lenny’s mouth, you look over your shoulder. Unsure how to respond. Arthur clings to his control, avoiding the glance that he wants to take of you. His restraint holds fast when he wants it to.

“Damn near cut your finger off the last time, wouldn’t be so sure,” he pokes at Lenny’s ego, goading him. Keeping his voice mellow enough as to be construed as playful but he can’t hide his harshness. Lenny doesn’t take his bait.

“Whatever, Arthur. You ain’t exactly the expert, neither,” You look between the two, a small nervous look flickering in your gaze. Arthur smiles, unfazed by Lenny’s snappy return. He knows how intimidating he can be; can see how Lenny’s resolve breaks just a little. He’s got courage, a smart kid. Quick, too. But he’s too young to have the authority Arthur carries, maybe one day but not now.

“Go on n’ play your games, you could always use more practice,” Lenny glares but looks at you. It only makes Arthur cross his arms over his chest. As if you need protection from him, should he taint you by standing too close. You nod, telling Lenny to have a good evening. In that sweet voice, so kind. Once Lenny is sure you think you’ll be fine, he has an exasperated sigh before he goes off.

“Arthur…” Is the reluctant response you have. Being alone with him obviously makes you fidget, makes your fingers scrunch in the fabric of your skirts. He likes your tongue forming his name, you almost whisper it, he can hardly hear it over the chatter of the other people around you. What a brave girl, putting up with him all by yourself.

“How-how are you?” you’re on the verge of making a frown but you hold your airy smile upwards. Afraid he’ll try to point out any flaw. You don’t understand why he does the things he does, his reputation proceeds him. But the issue is, Arthur doesn’t have any flaws to point out with you. You’re almost too good for this den of thieves you live amongst. Almost. If you were, then he wouldn't get to see you every day. Perhaps you were just another unfortunate person with nowhere else to go but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s always been greedy like that. He looked forward to waking up, if only to catch glimpses of you doing your chores or reading books in the sun. It takes him a bit too long to answer, adjusting his hat, his own nerves a bit pushed at his proximity to you. Just breathing the same air as you puts him in a better mood. He stares into your eyes, trying to evoke a reaction from you. They glimmer, warm fire light caressing the softness of you.

“Alright, I guess,” whatever quickness his tongue has is diminished. Playing nice isn’t his strong suit. Fumbling through a decent conversation with you might be nice though. The more you let him stay around you without walking away with a huff like Lenny did, the better. He won’t admit your presence has him softening a little. “What’re you up to?” He’s only a little embarrassed at how stupid that question sounds.

“Well, I was talking to Lenny but…” your glance in the direction Lenny walked off to makes him tighten his fist. He puts his hands on his belt, leaning his weight on one leg. “Now, I’m talking to you,” When your glances brush over him, he can feel it as if you touched him, he can’t help the way his stomach drops a few inches lower. Get a hold of yourself, you damn fool.

He can tell you didn’t know quite what to say. Doesn’t matter, he could listen to just about anything you have to say to the placating rhythm of the evening, the chirp of crickets, the wind in the trees.

“That so?” Idiot is his first thought. But the smile that breaks on your face; it's worth the humiliation curdling somewhere in him. Your shy nod, the shift in you, moved by him. He doesn't care if he’s assigning meaning where there isn’t any. He digs for more, looking for signs, imagined or not. Unconsciously, he drifts closer to where you sit on a rickety wooden chair.

“I think so. I don’t know, we don’t talk very often,” your voice is a precious sound. And so is the flutter of your eyelashes when you blink. Slow; now that you’ve let your guard down just a little. He watches intently, every movement you make.

“Damn shame, darlin’,” it is a shame. He figured he didn’t stand a chance but he can’t keep you from having a hold over him. Even when he isn’t here, his thoughts wander towards you. But now he looks for even a grain of affection in your eyes. He gathers more meaning from your words, the rising tone at the end of your sentence makes him think that you would like to talk to him more. He knows he’s deluding himself but he can kid himself just a little. His boot scrapes the dirt, ducking his eyes under the black brim of his hat. Just maybe, you’d engage him in more than an unnerved glance or a two word greeting.

At the name he calls you, your eyes widen just a bit, tilting your head, showing him your neck. Bad idea. He drinks in the sight. Is he disgusting for wanting to taste it? The skin of your neck, warm with your blood? The flattered and flustered raise of your fingers to your lips is exactly what he had wanted, he hadn’t known it but god, does it send satisfaction ringing throughout him; seeing the effect of him on you.

“Have I been missing out on something, Arthur?” Your tone is playful, but still reserved. Coming out of your shell now that he is reining in whatever drives him to push other people away with his harshness and his affronting demeanor. Just barely.

“Not really. Think it’s me; missin’ out on ya,” Lucky you, this is about as personable as Arthur can really get. But you seem to enjoy it. Your pretty smile and a hum that rivals the soothing nature of a cat’s purr; say so. He thinks of your contented murmur; how it would feel on his lips should you grace him with a kiss of yours. “Ain’t much for talkin’...”

“That’s not what I hear,” It is perhaps out of your mouth before you can think on it. Impulsive, just like him.

“And what have you heard?” it comes out more serious than he wants it to. More threatening. But he forces his posture to relax. As difficult as that is. You don’t flinch too much at least. Just lean back slightly.

“Well, I hear that…I’m not sure I should say..” The little reluctance you show is drawing him in. You're an angel, biting your thumb nail because of your nerves. Afraid to get someone in trouble. He crosses his arms over his chest again, leans against the nearest surface, a stationary wagon side.

“Jus’ tell me what they said, girl,” the way you follow his somewhat gentle command is more alluring than he should find it. Most people followed his direction without much question but it is something special when you look up at him, when you do as he says. Does something funny to his head. Mixes things up, stirring up his insides like Pearson’s godforsaken stew.

“They said-said you’re good with words. But you don’t always mean it. Those mean things you say,” you play with your hands, picking at the skin on your nails.

“Oh, I mean it. A lot of the time anyway. Why, I say somethin’ mean to you, princess?” At first you think you’ve activated whatever deep seated need Arthur has to make people dislike him. Your worried and panicked expression puts pressure on his chest. He doesn’t ever want you to look at him like that, not for real. Anything outside his idea of play just wouldn’t do. All he wants is that relaxed gesture of happiness you showed him. You shake your head; overexcited, but he speaks before you can muster a frightened response. He hadn’t said anything too bad with you, of that he’s sure but it can't hurt; offering you comfort. Arthur Morgan and comforting don’t often go in the same sentence. Despite his prickly reputation he gives you an easy grin, trying to keep his pride from turning it into a crooked smirk. Something he thought you might like, as he imagined you would.

“Cause I’m sure I didn’t mean it. Not with you,” He loves how quiet you get, pacified by his words. And that smile comes back; makes you look just fine.

thank you so much for reading!! i really am so grateful for the support i receive from this community. like i love yall smmmm !!🥺😭💖first time messing around in Arthur’s pov a lil so pls lmk any thots 🥰🥰🫶

#red writes #arthur morgan x reader #low honor arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #low honor arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption community #arthur morgan x female reader #x reader

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zelcii · 3 months ago

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do u right for luke castellan? if u do can u write some fluff for himmm? thank u, love ur writing

why | luke castellan

“if you want to stay as the counsellor of your cabin, you’re going to have to work harder,” mr. d said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“i’m sorry,” you deadpanned, frustration creeping into your voice. “what?”

chiron rolled his eyes at dionysus. “it’s nothing personal,” he replied dismissively. “we appreciate your efforts—”

“we just know that you can do better,” mr. d interrupted.

luke stood just outside the door, waiting for you, when he overheard the conversation. he didn’t think much of it, except for how wrong both chiron and mr. d were.

what surprised him the most was the meek, tired “yes, sir,” that slipped from your lips on the other side of the door.

as your boyfriend, luke has had the opportunity to watch you up close as you hustle through camp, over-organising activities, making sure every camper is accounted for. you’re always on the move, practically running the place, and sometimes he wonders if you ever take a minute to breathe. your dedication is impressive, no doubt, but it hurts him to see you wear yourself down with every unnecessary list, every forced smile you give chiron, and each desperate attempt to hold everything together on your own.

today is no different, of course. the kids are out exploring, their laughter echoing in the distance, while you sit at one of the empty tables with a can of soda, sluggishly jotting down yet another mundane task for the afternoon.

“hey, camper,” you say, barely looking up from your notebook as you take a sip of your strawberry soda.

“come,” he says, but it’s not really a question.

“what?” you glance up, surprise flickering in your eyes as he gently places a hand on your arm, urging you to stand.

“you heard me.” with one hand, he closes your notebook and tucks it under his arm, then grabs your can of soda and takes a sip.

“but—the kids?” you protest, frowning.

“eh. they won’t miss you.” he flashes you a grin, and with a stifled chuckle escaping you, the two of you make your way over to the empty dock, settling down with your legs dangling over the edge.

“how are you?” luke questions, you watch the way his slim waist slumps as he stretched his hands out behind him. “and i mean really.”

“good. haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you in a while though,” you smile, watching your reflection in the water beneath you.

“why?” the boy asked. you paused. there was a look in your eye as you went over your answer, a look that luke would never forget. you never thought of why exactly you’ve been busy all summer. probably because the answer seemed obvious to you.

“i’m working, luke?” you say, though you sound unsure. “why do you ask?”

the wood is warm beneath you as you stare out into the lake. you could see a group of campers staggered around the edges of the lake, a few taking a moment to dip into the coolness of the water. luke was leaned back on his hands, a lazy smile on his face as he watches the way your lips curl up at the sight of your kids.

“mr. d wasn’t the best this morning during senior council…” luke started, carefully watching the way your face twisted for your reaction. “i don’t know, i guess i get surprised when you let things like that slide.”

“what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. he looks almost unreal in the warm light of the setting sun, the golden rays casting a soft glow on the side of his face, making his eyes seem to shine just for you. he was a demigod for sure.

“an intervention,” he jokes, a hint of mischief in his tone.

you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss how the sunlight catches in your hair, turning it a soft gold. it’s a moment, a second of reluctance that tells him to think twice before he continues this conversation with you.

“look,” he says, his tone shifting slightly. he sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving yours, “i’ve noticed you’ve been working your ass off lately; more than most of us. so why’d you just take that shit from mr. d?”

for a minute, all you could do was stare at him, and all he could do was stare at you. he took note of how the meat on your bones seemed to lessen over the course of the summer, how your tired eyes sunk into your rosy cheeks, and how your lips glossed over with the same lip gloss you had since the sixth grade.

“i know… what it sounds like—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“do you even like being a counsellor?”

“of course, i do,” you say with no hesitation, your eyes hardening as you sounded slightly offended.

his expression softens, concern flickering across his face. “look, baby, i know it’s none of my business how you choose to waste your time, but you barely even sleep anymore.”

you take so much shit from chiron and mr. d and you never even once go against their orders, we haven’t had time alone since before summer, and you give so much of your time to people who don’t deserve it… i know that nobody asked you this before,”

“but do you ever wonder why?”

the question hangs between you, and for a moment, you’re silent, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. you look down at your hands, playing with the edges of your shorts. “why what?” you knew ‘why what.’

“why are you like this?” he prompts, holding eye contact.

“because…” you sigh, searching for the right words. “i don’t know… but chiron—”

“forget chiron,” he replies softly as he takes your hand in his. “you’re his best counsellor. he was probably just messing with you, sweetheart.”

you meet his gaze, and for the first time, you realise how much weight you’ve been holding. you sigh, looking at him; his eyes never leave yours.

“maybe you’re right,” you say slowly.

“of course, i’m right,” he scoffs, a smirk creeping onto his face, but the warmth in his eyes makes you want to kiss the smug look right off of it.

“big talk for a hermes, castellan,” you challenge, leaning in closer with a playful grin.

luke smirks, quick to respond. “that’s not the only big thing, baby.”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound ringing out like music in the morning air. it’s the hardest you’ve laughed since before summer camp, and in that moment, you realised just how much you’ve missed this.

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #x reader #percy series #pjo #percy jackson #fluff #fanfic #annabeth chase #dominic fike #spotify #charlie bushnell #pjo series #netflix

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psychesalcove · 6 months ago

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ֶָ֢ "it's nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today,"

hiiii! can i request a luke castellan x fem reader fic, the scenario being luke just woke up after the quest gone wrong (when he got the scar on his face) and reader is the first one he hears. she’s aphrodite’s daughter but she’s the one cleaning his wound in the infirmary. you can spin it however you like💗 just want some luke castellan fluff (w/ a bit of angst💗) where he confides in reader, and he cries but hides it by nuzzling in her neck, she’s just a comforting gf that feels her neck become damp.

luke castellan x daughter of aphrodte reader

my writes are completely race and body type friendly! feel free to interact my loves:)

part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event

-> want to participate in the event?

an: babes this is suchhh a cute idea for luke omg!! i love detailed asks its amazing n' your ideas are stunning, bueatiful, and everything!! i had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy! and again, sorry for not writing sooner, i was camping with my family and had no wifi lmao 😓 love ya 🩷 ps. I also did like a lot of writing for this,, so I hope u don't mind lovie!!

you hummed quietly to yourself as you wrapped up a child of ares arm; according to them, they had gotten distracted and accidentally went up against a sword. you patted their arm to signify you were finished. once they got up, you walked over to will.

'how's he doing?' you asked, leaning against the counter will was sitting at. luke, your boyfriend, had a rough go of it on a recent quest. you weren't all sure of what happened; as he passed out before he could get a coherent sentence said. you did catch some words: hermes. hurts. and some other ones that you couldn't quite make out.

will looked up from the pile of paperwork he was reading. 'better. he's still not 100%; but he's making recovery. i'm not exactly sure when he'll wake up,' he explained, briefly scanning the paperwork to make sure he said the correct information.

you hummed, eyes also going down to the paperwork to scan it over. 'do you think i should be with him, when he wakes up?' you asked, eyes going up to meet wills.

'i'll give you the rest of the day off, how about that?' he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. he could probably sense your anxiety about luke and his wellbeing. 'i think he'll be happy to see you,' will gave you a soft smile before his attention went back to his paper.

you thanked him and quickly made your way over to the back of the infirmary; where the private cots were. you gently pulled back the curtain and was met with the same sight that you saw last. luke was laying on the bed, bandages wrapped around his face due to the injury that was on his eye.

you quickly sat down in a chair, prepared to spend however long you would need to wait for luke to wake up.

—

as you looked out the window at camp; a light squeeze on your hand drew your attention back to luke. you smiled softly when you saw him staring back at you, even with one eye. 'hi hon,' you whispered gently, hand squeezing his back.

he didn't say anything, instead smiling a little at you as a response. you took that as he didn't want to talk; especially about the quest he just got back from. you opted to ask a question on a different topic.

'd'you want a hug?'you whispered again, hand still in his. all you got in response was a light nod of the head, a nod you would've missed if you weren't pouring all your attention into him. you removed your hand from his and quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding luke in a protective embrace.

his head quickly found its way to your neck; both of you being mindful of the bandages still on his face. as soon as both of you settled into the hold, lukes shoulders started shaking lightly. in cue, you felt wetness on your neck, along with lukes heavy breathing drying the wetness; though the tears were quickly being replaced by new ones.

you tightened your grip around him. luke rarely cried: you assumed it was the pressure of being a good role model for the younger campers, or even who he associated with at camp. you shuttered lightly at the thought of what must have happened on that quest for him to react like this.

before you could attempt comforting him, he spoke through his quiet sobs. 'im, i'm really sorry for this,' you heard him mumble quietly as his breath picked up even more.

you shook your head softly at him. 'luke, hon. you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. quests can be hard, they're made to be. its okay to be scared of them. it's natural, completely normal.' you said, hand starting to rub small circles onto his upper back in an attempt to comfort him.

you couldn't tell how long the two of you stayed in that position; you holding onto him like he was your lifeline and luke holding back just as hard. slowly though, his sobs started to subside, and his breathing returned to normal. throughout him crying, you decided not to try and get him to stop, knowing that this crying session was long overdue.

luke seemed to think that he calmed down enough, as he gently pulled out of the embrace. as the two of you stared at eachother, he opened his mouth. 'it's nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today,' he said, a small joking tone to it.

you smiled lightly. 'are you okay?' you asked, ignoring his past comment; knowing it was probably a way to steer the conversation around what just happened.

he sighed deeply, the eye that wasnt covered closing as he layed down again. 'yeah. m'sorry about my, uh. episode. the quest was just a lot.' he chuckled, opening his eye again. 'i love you,'he added, flashing you a quick smile.

you sighed, grabbing his hand and brining it into your embrace again. 'it's okay to have episodes like that love. it's human; you should honestly do it more often.'you hummed gently, rubbing circles onto his knuckles.

luke only nodded lightly in response; seemingly drifting off to sleep once again.

'i love you to, luke.' you mused, pushing up out of the chair and pressing a gentle kiss to his noninjured side of his face.

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https-furina · 1 year ago

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heres my apology for the trauma:

(i forgot who i asked for in the previoys ask) kazuha, xiao, heizou, aether, albedo and wanderer with fluff ideas

(im giving you the power to make the scenario wtv you want bc i traumatized u the most lmao)

✎ our time together. ft. albedo, aether, heizou, kazuha, wanderer, xiao & kaeya x fem!reader content: pure fluff, so much comfort after that angst you could suffocate, sickeningly sweet stuff. mentions of injuries in xiao’s part.

detective's notes. this is aly's attempt at therapy following that angst req - i did everyone who was in the original request that you can find here. i apologise in advance for xiao and kaeya, i think they’re ooc. not proofread.

albedo often has you admiring the sights of dragonspine with him whenever you take the time to visit him at the summit. on bright, sunny days, depending on the direction you face, you can gaze upon mondstadt, liyue or the ocean. it amazed you, to be surrounded by so many fantastic sights. and not only around dragonspine but the mountain itself hosts the most beautiful scenery. scenes of white snow, pure and blanketing the ground around your boyfriend's camp - it's innocent, wholesome. the snowflakes dance together with each other.

albedo loves to watch you admiring what is so common for him, snow drifting down almost every other day.

"love, it's snow," albedo chimes from where he's jotting down notes from a research experiment he'd conducted earlier in the day. you're sat by the campfire, eyes glazed over as you watch the snowflakes, "the city really doesn't get snow this much?" "the city doesn't get snow, bedo," you comment back, quick on your words and clouds of hot breath coming from your lips as you spoke, "the sentence should have ended there." your wit makes him chuckle under his breath, his gaze falling back to the cursive scribble in his notebook. every time you visited him it was almost like he got to witness your child-like state over and over again, never-ending and yet he cherished every moment of it. he cherished the way that a smile would slowly break out on your face no matter what you was doing when that very first snowflake lands on your sleeve. unfortunately, albedo often keeps you in the safety that is his camp, situated in an alcove not far from the summit of the mountain. it's sheltered and it encompasses the warmth from his fire perfectly. he's never had any qualms with it but he can see how your fingers itch, longing to touch at the cold that settles on the ground only to melt moments later when the sun glimpses from behind grey clouds. he basks in your innocent behaviour and how it glows in the campfire's orange light. with a gentle noise, the blond finds himself raising from his chair, joints stiff - it's only now he realises how long he'd been seated, writing about his experiments while you sat and watched the snow. "you want to go out in it, right?" he asks quietly as he wanders to your side, a cotton scarf in his hands as he wraps it around your neck, "we can't have you getting sick, i can only cook so much goulash." his voice is light, teasing but you're focused on his insinuations that you can in fact go out into the snow that you've been meticulously watching for hours now. he watches the realisation wash over your face, your eyes glittering as you stare at him - it's almost as if you're asking for permission. albedo chuckles, a cloud of breath falling from his lips as he does so before he nods. you've left the warmth of the camp before albedo can even process you getting up from your spot, spinning in circles as you let the snowflakes cover the fabric of your clothing. a faint smile appears on albedo's face, watching your excitement as you giggle in the snow made him fall in love with you even more than before.

aether absolutely loves travelling with you at his side. you're the light of his life, always finding the positives in the stickiest of situations where even he debates whether it's a dead end. this applies to his search for his twin sister, you're convinced he'll find her and you are quick to reassure him that you'll be there every step of the way! but adventuring is tiring and your feet are sore. aether treats you like a princess despite getting pushed around by civilians and archons alike wherever he goes.

it comes as no surprise when he is the one who proposes a campfire for the night, cooped up together on a woven blanket you insisted on bringing with you.

"aether," you mumble your boyfriend's name softly as you curl into his side, attempting to count the stars - it's futile but you tried anyways, "what do you think most of these people would do if they knew their archons were among them?" "mondstadt would think it's a harsh prank," he comments from where he's cooking food. there's a strong aroma of mint, chicken, radish with perhaps hints of calla lilies and fish, "imagine diluc's face if he knew it was venti." a laugh comes from you, looking over at the blond with a hint of admiration. he's deep in concentration with his cooking despite them being dishes he's made hundreds of times before - he's sure got the proficiency down at least. he glances at you and his sharp eyes soften. he loves your laugh, he finds it more musical than anything venti could play on the holy lyre or even anything that yun jin performs. to aether, your laugh is explosive and beautiful like yoimiya's fireworks and it's more illustrious than any aranara tale that sumeru could conjure up. you were his partner, a beacon of light and hope as you travel wherever he goes. sometimes he'll joke that you're his shadow, watching his back just as much as he has yours. a smile breaks out on his face suddenly. "what's that look for?" you pout, puffing your cheeks as aether shakes his head, turning back to the campfire. his calloused hands work meticulously on chicken and mushroom skewers and radish soups like their recipes are engraved into his memory. "am i not allowed to look at my girlfriend?" his question flushes your cheeks with warmth that crawls up your neck and makes butterflies crazy in your stomach. clearing your throat, you look away with a dramatic huff, no longer attempting to push aether for his prior facial expressions. aether makes a noise of amusement, holding out a skewer to you, "it's hot, don't burn your tongue." his words echo in your head, ones that would seem patronising to anyone else but to you, they meant the world. you knew that aether would fret over the smallest injuries - just like he did when you managed to get a papercut from a book you borrowed from xingqiu. he merely cared more than you could ever ask for in exchange for the positive aura you carry with you that keeps him sane.

heizou can disappear from days, perhaps even weeks at a time. he remains a hazard to anyone he comes across who aren't aware of his apparent disappearances when he gets a lead on a particularly pressing case. when he is around however, even if his head is buried in case files, he's by your side. he craves whatever touch he can get from you, always somehow finding a way to be touching you. it only gets worse after his peculiar disappearances.

it's no wonder that the next day after he suddenly turns up at your shared house again, a wide grin on his face that he's keeping his hand lingering on your skin.

"could it be premeditated? surely not," the detective mumbles, his face hidden in documents that you're sure his grip is crumpling, "but the change of clothes suggests otherwise - unless it's a case of panic..." "do you speak out loud at the station too?" you muse, one of your hands holding a novel from mondstadt whilst your other hand is playing with heizou's fingers, his hand on your thigh. heizou makes a soft noise, chuckling as he raises his head from the papers finally. "on the odd chance that i'm there? sometimes." he admits, grinning mischievously and you roll your eyes with a light scoff. his attitude to his work attendance was unbelievable sometimes, even more so than his ability to crack cases like they're precious geodes with goods inside of them. you click your tongue playfully, shaking your head as heizou raises the hand you're using to play with his idly, pressing his lips to your knuckles with a chuckle. you try to send him a pointed look, hoping to insinuate that his attitude wasn't acceptable but verdant eyes are looking at you with a teasing sparkle and you sigh, accepting that he was enjoying winding you up over the situation. "how old is that case anyways?" you ask curiously, tilting your head as you glance at your boyfriend. heizou lowers the documents, a drastic sigh escaping his lips. "only a few days but it happened within the tenryou commission," heizou explains, rubbing his temple with his spare hand, "madam kujou sara has the whole station working on it." you gently squeeze the hand heizou is holding, giving him a reassuring smile when he turns his gaze back to you. you knew the case would start eating him alive if he let it, to the point where he'd be mumbling theories even in his sleep. "don't overwork yourself, please." you sigh. it's soft and light, your hot breath fanning over heizou's skin when he moves his hand from yours to your cheek. where would he be without the rational mind of his own girlfriend to keep him in check?

kazuha loves being at sea with the crew of the alcor. captain beidou has been at his side numerous times and helped in his times of need but there is one more thing that kazuha loves more than the salty air of the ocean and that is you. he's known to skip the occasional adventure at sea to stay by your side a little longer, especially around both your birthday and his.

it turns out that when he does return from sea, all he ever wants is a homemade meal and the loving embrace of his partner.

"kazu-" you blink as you stare at the mound in the bedsheets, curled up nice and warm like a kitten - he hums, "was you sleeping?" the silky silver hair of your boyfriend peeks from the top of the sheets, his eyelashes half open as he lets out a small yawn, looking at where you stand at the bedroom door. he sends you a small smile, nodding. "just a nap, my love - what's wrong?" he rests his head back down on the pillows, arms moving to lay above the sheets so that you may see him better. the action makes you smile, leaning on the door frame as you admire him in such a relaxed moment, his voice mildly deep as he wakes up. "i was coming to ask if you wanted dinner," you admit sheepishly, eyes trailing over how his messy hair frames his face when he has it down, specific strands of red hanging above his eyes and catching in his long eyelashes, "are you hungry?" "maybe - can i ask for a hug before you go?" who are you to deny such a request from your boyfriend? you catch the way kazuha grins when you approach the bed, his arms tightly wrapping around your waist and pulling you down to him. you yelp, caught unaware as you fall on top of his body. there's however a few moments of silence as you sink into a calm state of mind, pressing the skin of your cheek to his bare chest when kazuha nuzzles his nose into your hair, exhaling softly. there's a solace that you only get when you're in his company and he can say likewise to you too, when he breathes in your scent and drinks it in like a wine. "i missed you," he comments quietly against your hair, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. a smile cracks onto your face, your eyelashes fluttering shut at his words. you had missed him too undoubtedly when he's been away for so long.

wanderer has had his hands full ever since lesser lord kusanali thrust him into studying at the akademiya - against his will, nonetheless and if someone cared enough to listen to his complaints, they'd hear his whines about the 'awful' work load they give students. it would take a few hours of listening to his sharp wit and grumbles to understand that he despises his academic studies this much because it limits his time with you - the girlfriend he says he "can't get rid of" because you "won't leave his side."

he has lesser lord kusanali promise that she won't rat him out whenever he turns up to the sanctuary of surasthana asking what girls like for gifts, giggles coming from the small archon.

"what the hell does this mean?" he mutters to himself, pads of his fingers pressed to his temple as his eyes scan over the text again. it's not going in, it simply just isn't. he's reread the paragraph ten times now and even though it's definitely in a language he understands and even more so a topic that he's already studied, it's not sticking the way academic materials are supposed to. he groans, eyelashes fluttering shut in frustration. he swears he's a changed man but the patience he has wears thin when it comes to studying. the house of daena is a considerably quiet place for a public library. there's the occasional bustle of students, their arms full of leatherbound tomes as they gossip amongst themselves - whether it is research related or not escapes the man from where he sits. he knows why he's so distraught and unable to focus but celestia forbid if he ever vocally admits it - it's been a few days since he could even see your face. he'd got himself tangled up in preparing for this exam to the point where he'd barely left the house of daena. that would be another thing he is not keen to admit aloud, his determination to receive praise from lesser lord kusanali regarding his efforts. "i knew i'd find you here," that voice... it's so familiar but why? his eyes open, his gaze sharp at whoever dared to disturb him when he was clearly so perturbed by his studies but they fall onto your form, a bag in your hands that smells like fresh pastries, "i passed kaveh on the way here and he voiced that you hadn't eaten lunch, love - so i stopped at puspa cafe." he clicks his tongue, a soft scoff coming his lips as you approach closer to the desk he was seated at, numerous books scattered wide open on differing pages. for someone who uttered nothing but complaints of his position in the vahumana darshan, he took his studies awfully serious. more so, you didn't miss the way his eyes rolled at the mention of the blond kshahrewar alumni who was always too expressive for his own good. "you didn't have to." he mumbles, a little reluctant to thank you but you knew what he meant when a smile crosses your face, placing the brown paper bag onto the desk beside his books. wanderer glances down your body before his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you onto his lap. "h-hey!" you squeak, eyes wide in surprise. he quirks a brow, amused before he rests his chin on your shoulder, returning back to the studying he'd previously struggled with. coincidentally, suddenly the words made sense and weren't so hazy in his mind. "just stay still." he sighs, a hand placed on the small of your back while the other one flips the yellowed pages in front of him. you have no choice but to slump your shoulders, hands idly playing in his hair - a rare opportunity considering he is usually wearing his hat - as your boyfriend continues to study.

xiao promised that auspicious blonde traveler that he'd be at their beck and call if only they said his name. you had no qualms with this, it was a scenario he also had applied to your relationship. at first he hadn't, being too scared of genuinely giving you love and affection to begin with but when he'd warmed, xiao promised to protect you with his life. you do however scold him when he returns back to his room at wangshu inn, some minor scrapes and injuries dotting his pale skin.

he would flinch at the slightest of your touches but there was always some sort of warm feeling resonating deep in his chest when his eyes glaze over how concerned you are in his stead.

there's a sharp wince that leaves his mouth through gritted teeth when you wipe the cut on his cheek. a frown adorns your face and xiao feels a stab of pity that you were once again nursing his wounds like a disappointed mother. he was starting to seriously debate if there was anything he wouldn't feel extreme guilt over when it came to you, you truly were too good for him in his eyes. "what are you thinking about?" you ask quietly, watching his brows knit together in a slight confusion, "your eyes always look so pitiful when i do this, love." xiao makes a soft noise in return, golden eyes flickering away to avoid eye contact. he'll look anywhere but you, not keen on how well you read him like a book even during his worst moments. even when it works against him, he treasures that you know him well. he's never been explicitly good at communicating - he might as well start writing his feelings on parchment - and your coincidental skill of just being able to read him fit that perfectly. "you care so much despite-" you click your tongue, a little irritated as your eyes turn sharp on your boyfriend. xiao sighs, tilting his head away when he feels you wipe the damp cloth across his cheek again. "someone has to care for you when you're off gallivanting being the hero in everyone else's story." your words tumble out without second thought. he's always at the ready when it comes to that blonde traveler's life or even yours and yet, nobody is at the ready for his own life. he knew that you was always going to be the one that cared and protected him when he didn't do it for himself. you were his home to come back to, the warmth of a fireplace and the golden glow of an oil lamp in the corner. you were the one who attended to his every scratch and cut, the one who placed kisses on his bruises and claimed your kiss was 'magic.' a small crack of a smile appears on xiao's face, his head nodding as he leans to press a delicate kiss to your lips.

kaeya may have his bad habits of occasionally slacking his work sometimes on the premise that he gets to spend time with you however when he does bury his head into the paperwork and commissions - only after you nag him - it becomes a challenge to get time together. if you even remotely complain, kaeya will cheekily shove back in your face that it was you who nagged him to get his work done.

he makes up for the time he loses with you while he's away at work, whether it be candlelit dinners over a bottle of red wine or picnics in the mondstadt summer sun, he's sure to cherish every moment he gets.

"that one looks like a bird." you comment, index finger pointing at a cloud as it floats past, light and fluffy in appearance against the blue backdrop of the sky. kaeya grins, shaking his head. "how in teyvat did you get a bird from that?" he asks curiously, glancing over at you with an eye so blue it challenges the tides of teyvat's oceans. you pout at the thought that kaeya hadn't seen the same outline of the cloud that you had, puffing your cheeks. "well... there's a wing and if you look over there that's a beak..." you're explaining it so vividly, hands waving around as a form of expressing yourself but kaeya isn't looking at the clouds. he's drinking in the sparkle in your eyes, the smile that widens on your face when you spot another cloud - this time you're certain it's a fish! kaeya lets out the occasional hum of encouragement, giving off the impression that he is most certainly listening to you but all it takes is one glance in his direction and you can see the half dazed look in his eye, swirling with distant dreams; ones where you have a family, a glittering ring on your finger and perhaps even a house in the city. "are you even listening to me?" you huff, a heat flushing up your neck and to your cheeks when your boyfriend doesn't pull that lovedrunk gaze away from you. a chuckle leaves soft lips, one of his gloved hands lacing with yours. "uh-huh, yeah, something about beaks and wings..." kaeya finds it adorable when you roll your eyes, looking away in a flustered state as he props himself on his elbows, leaning closer to you, "the clouds are pretty but you are much prettier." "kaeya i swear to-" he cuts you off, tutting with a cheeky grin. "swear to who? barbatos?" he hums, pressing a kiss to your head when you roll into his chest, hoping he'll give it a rest if you just comply and wrap around his finger, like you always do. and unsurprisingly, he does give in. he hooks an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close as his gaze finally turns up the faint hue of orange that the sky is fading into, the clouds dusted rosy pinks when the sun begins to set. he knows that soon the two of you will have to walk back down the cliff, back to mondstadt where you'll share a night curled up in bed for the first time in days before kaeya is back to work the next morning. in retaliation of these thoughts, the tips of his fingers press into the flesh of your upper arm more than usual and his brows knit together in a way he hopes you don't notice. but your eyes are closed, your face falling peaceful when you've drifted asleep to the rhythm of your boyfriend's heartbeat.

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axelsagewrites · 2 years ago

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Hello can u please do a Robb stark smut where they r in his tent at war they r married and it’s like cute playful like a break from reality and the war going on they they r just some teenagers in love

Robb Stark*I Miss You

Pairing: Robb x F!Reader

Summary: Robb's wife misses spending quality time with her husband when the war is raging and draws him back into bed

Warnings: Smut, piv sex, fingering, mostly fluffy (ig?) giggly sex,18+

Word count: 2021

Requested

Masterlist Here

The days were long, and the nights were not much better. The camp was largely asleep apart from some men keeping watch and of course your husband. Robb was sat at a table looking over battle plans as the candles flickered, lighting the dim tent. Despite your pleas for him to sleep he was still awake. You rolled over onto your front to watch as he studied the paper, how his jaw line looked in the soft candlelight and how his curls perfectly framed his face. His soft lips were slightly parted though occasionally he would nip the bottom one between his teeth in concentration.

You were perched half up on your arms, your head tilted as you admired your husband who eventually shot you a side way glance, “Are you okay love?” he asked, his eyes flickering back to the page.

“I miss you,”

Robb lifted his head, his eyebrows knitted in confusion, “I’m right here sweetheart,”

You ignored his words as you began to sit up more, “I miss you,” you repeated.

This time Robb turned in his chair to face you, ignoring the battle plans for a moment, “I’m right here love,” he said again but you grinned as you finally had his attention.

Your feet quickly padded across the tent floor to stand behind him, your arms draping over his shoulders and your nose nuzzling into his neck causing the boy to laugh, “I miss you,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“I’m right here dove,” Robb giggled, his hands moving to pull you around and into his lap straddling him. “How can you miss me when you have me?” he asked and you pouted, your head falling onto his chest. Robb laughed as he began to stroke your hair, “I’ll be done soon,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your head.

You sighed, pressing yourself closer to your husband, his arms wrapping around you tighter, “I just wish for five minutes where we didn’t have to think about this war,” you whispered. You felt Robbs chest heave as he let out a heavy sigh.

Robbs hands found your face, pulling it out of his chest. His hands held your cheeks as he forced your eyes to meet his, “I miss you too,” Robb confessed, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You looked into his eyes which were swelling with emotion.

For a moment you just wanted to be a husband and wife not a king or queen. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his as you had done a hundred times, but this time was like a race you were desperate to win. Robb’s hands fell from your cheeks to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze, which caused you to giggle into the kiss. Robb couldn’t stop his own laughter at your giggles.

His lips were curled into a perfect smile as he pressed messy kisses to yours, teeth clashing. Your hands trailed up to his curls, getting lost in the masses, “You have such pretty hair,” you smiled into the kiss.

Robb grinned as he stole another kiss, “Not as pretty as you love,” he praised. “You happy you got my attention now love?” he chuckled.

“Very,” you chirped as you got off his lap.

Robb quickly leapt from his chair, catching up and grabbing you around your waist from behind, “Where do you think you’re going?” His teeth nipped your ear before his lips fell to your neck. You giggled as his nose nuzzled into your skin and his teeth left tiny nips along your neck. “You wanted my attention now you’ve got it,” Robb spun you around to face him, your hands grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself.

His lips returned to your neck trailing kisses to your collar bones. You felt his smile in his kisses and laughed from the feeling. “Robb,” you said as you began to tug on his tunic, “I think you might be overdressed,”

Robb laughed as he pulled back from your skin, his eyes roaming your frame. A thin shift covered your body though did nothing to hide it while he still had his trousers, tunic, and undershirt on. “You think love? Maybe you could help me,” his eyes had the same spark in them they had on your wedding night.

You made quick work of his tunic before turning your attention to his trousers, helping him loosen them and letting him shrug them off. Robb was nothing but gentle with you which is why you let out a small yelp when he pushed you by your shoulders to fall on the bed of furs. “Hey!” you whined as you put on your best angry face.

It did not fool Robb who stood above you laughing, “Sorry sweetheart,” Robb quickly pulled his undershirt over his head, now fully exposed, before he began to crawl over you, “Let me make it up to you,” Robb was now settled above you, his lips falling to press kisses under your jaw as he began to trail them down your body.

You hummed as you pretending to consider his idea but giggled when his hand grazed your thigh, leading a feather light trail up your skin making it tingle at his touch. His hand arrived at your breast which he took into his hand and squeezed. You couldn’t stop the whine that fell from your lips.

His mouth had now reached your breasts, his path interrupted by your shift. “May I?” Robb asked as his fingers trailed the neckline of the fabric. You sat up and allowed him to pull it off your body, a blush flushing your face as his eyes roamed your body, “You’re so perfect,” Robb said before his eyes returned to your face. He laughed when he noticed your shy attempts to avoid his gaze, “We’re married and you’re still so shy,” Robbs finger began to trail around your nipple that hardened more under his touch.

“Shut up,” you giggled, pushing his chest but he didn’t even budge, “You’re so mean to me,”

Robb rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your pouted lips, “and you’re so dramatic love,” he teased, his lips falling to capture your other nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled round the perked bud, and you moaned at the feeling.

His other hand began to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. Your hand reached for his hair, gently running through it before gripping his curls when his teeth began to graze your nipple, a wet patch growing in between your thighs, “Fuck Robb,” you moaned.

He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop, a teasing grin placed on his lips, “Yes love?” he asked.

Your hands gripped his curls tighter, “I need you,”

Robb’s spare hand trailed your body, his fingers leaving goosebumps on your skin, before he began to run up a finger up your folds. You moaned at the sensation as Robb dipped his fingers in, “I love how wet you get for me,” he praised, his lips falling back to kiss your breast as you moaned, “and those pretty sounds you’re making,”

Finally, he slid two fingers into your wet core causing your breath to catch in your throat as he stretched you. He placed sloppy kisses to your breast and neck, leaving hickeys below where he knew your dress would cover. Once your body relaxed, he began to slowly curl his fingers, moving them gently in and out of your soaked cunt.

“You like that?” Robb asked in between leaving love bites to your chest.

you felt your stomach flutter and begin to tense up as he repositioned his hand so his thumb would begin to massage your cunt. “Yes,” you whined, “Please don’t stop,” your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sensations overtake you. His slow pumping and his assault on your chest left you a moaning mess under his touch. When his lips captured your nipple again, sucking gently on the peaked bud, you felt your cunt begin to squeeze around his fingers.

Robb ignored the cramp that began in his hand as he felt your body tense, your walls squeezing him. He tried to muffle the whiny moan that rippled from your mouth with his own lips, groaning into the kiss as your walls squeezed him tighter. The wave washed over you hard as you came crashing down around his fingers.

You whined, lips chasing his, when he removed his from yours. Robb kissed your throat before his eyes fell back on your face. You were breathless beneath him, and he enjoyed every moment, “I want to fuck you so bad,” he confessed.

Your eyelashes batter for a moment before your lips reached up to pull his into a brief but hungry kiss, “Do it then,” you said,

One of Robb’s hands shot to grab your hip, the other grabbing the base of his cock as he began to line up to your entrance that was already prepared for him. He ran his tip up the length of your folds, slowly pushing in and stretching you more than his fingers had. There was a slight burn, but it was softened by his affectionate kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

Robb paused for a moment; his eyes screwed shut as he eased into you. He held himself in place, his eyes opening and looking to you for permission. You pulled his head down to yours, capturing his lips, as you began to grind your hips up into his. As soon as Robb had your permission, he began to roll his hips to fill you deeper, pumping his cock into you at a slow and steady pace while keeping his lips on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss as his cock filled you completely. “Faster,” you panted, breaking the kiss.

Robb didn’t need to be told twice as his fingers dug into your hips, biting at your flesh, as he quickened his thrusts which send a wave of moans through your throat. Soft grunts fell from Robbs lips in between compliments and praises the noises you made and how you felt around him.

Robb removed one hand to lean over you, grabbing a pillow to shove under your hips. He gripped your hips, pulling them up slightly, and his cock began to hit new deeper positioning causing a white-hot feeling to spread through your stomach. This time Robb didn’t attempt to conceal your moans. He used one hand to hold himself up, licking the fingers on the other one to rub sloppy circles into your clit.

The feeling in your stomach grew at his touch and your fingers began to claw lines down his strong muscular back and shoulders. Robb sped up more as his peak approached causing you to grip his shoulders for some type of stability. He did his best to hold his own off as he chased yours.

As he felt your walls clench around his cock he almost came on the spot, “Fuck love if you don’t cum I will,” he groaned as his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. The knot had returned to your stomach, and it came undone when he his lips found your neck once again. Robb managed to ride out your peak before spilling inside you, his body heaving as he came. He shuddered as he emptied himself, his body tensing, before almost collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess.

Robb managed to roll off you, both of you now on your backs staring at the ceiling, “That was amazing,” he panted. You nodded, equally out of breath from it all.

You took his hand into yours, raising it to your lips to kiss the back of it. “I should miss you more often,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark fluff #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got #got imagine #robb got #robb stark x reader #request #game of thrones smut #robb stark smut

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aleenuhs · 9 months ago

Note

Arthur comforting crying/ upset reader

𖦹 Always Here

thank u anon <3

word count: 1,099

paring: Arthur x GN!reader

a lil bit of angst if u will.

You had accompanied Arthur, Charles, and Sadie on an outing to Saint Denis, to go play some poker at the Saloon.

Sadie had forced you to go, though you'd wanted to stay at camp finishing up your chores for the night.

But you went.

It was crowded and stuffy in the room, sitting across from the table they were playing at, eating some of the beef jerky you had in your pocket. A bit bored, you looked at the people in the room just watching, careful not to stare because people were easily offended by the gaze of another human being.

Arthur and the others were fully engrossed in their gameplay, which you'd opted out of cause you never understood it, or liked it for that matter. You wanted to go back to camp, not be here with a bunch of drunk men and working girls.

Your eyes fluttered, through all the noise, you somehow fell asleep for a bit.

When you woke back up, you were still sitting in the same chair. Surprisingly, you weren't robbed or anything bad.

You looked around the room again, spotting the table that Arthur, Charles and Sadie were once playing at, and they weren't there. Your heart rate immediately spiked, had they left without you?

You sprung up from the chair that you were sitting at and walked outside to see if they were out there, no clue where they'd went from the time you were awake, till now, not to mention, how long had you been asleep?

You walked around, in search for any of them, and no luck.

You knew Shady belle was within walking distance from where you were, but it was dangerous. And you didn't have your horse, so you couldn't ride back. The worst part was that they'd forgotten all about you, Sadie and Charles. But worst of all, Arthur had forgotten. It made you slightly angry that your own significant other would do such a thing. You walked up to a random person, who you saw had a pocket watch.

"Mister?" You spoke quietly, tapping him on the shoulder.

The man looked you up and down, before nodding.

"You know what time it is?"

"1:20."

Your eyes widened, "1:20, thank you." You repeated before walking off, damn it was late.

No stagecoaches were out at this time of night. What could you even do?

You walked around for a moment before you were met with a overwhelming urge to just walk all the way back to Shady Belle.

So you did. Holding yourself, as it was cold, you walked all the way back, shivering slightly. The tears left your eyes, but you didn't sob, no, they were silent tears.

When you arrived after 30 minutes of walking, you immediately walked into the house and went up to Arthurs room and stood before the bed, watching him sleep. he woke up to you. You looked wrecked, tear stained cheeks and bleary eyes, he could hardly see with just the small lantern lighting up the room.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up next to you. "Why aren't you in bed?" He asked, obliviously, maybe he was drunk.

You wanted to yell at him, but instead your words came out in a soft tone. "You left me, Arthur."

His eyes went back to their cold gaze. "Huh?"

"What is not to understand, Arthur? You left me at the saloon in Saint Denis!" Your words were more charged now, but not exactly yelling, just a bit more angry you felt.

"Jesus... Im sorry, I didn't mean to- er.. Leave you there darlin'." His eyes widening after he realized just what he had did. He gets up and puts his hands on your shoulders, and with this. You start to cry.

You don't even lift your head up to look at him, you play with your fingers.

His eyes fixed on how broken you looked, tears streaming down your face, he hardly knew what to do.

"I am so sorry." He speaks, almost silent. He brings you in, hugging you tightly, his big arms wrapped around you made you feel slightly better. But not entirely.

"I had to walk here, Arthur." You murmured.

His breath hitched. "Nobody... did anythin' to you, right?" He would curse himself if you said yes, but luckily, you shook your head. He sighed a breath of relief. "Good, but I truly am sorry, that I left you there, that we left you there."

You didn't respond, the tears still falling from your eyes. His warmth surrounds you, almost overheating your body. "Arthur promise me this won't happen again."

He looked at you, "I promise to try, I never intended for this to happen." He notices your lip trembling, he brings you even closer. "C'mere." He lays down on the bed signaling for you to join him there.

You hesitate for a moment, but end up laying right next to him, you nuzzled yourself right into his neck and sighed deeply. His calloused hand reached up to your face, fingers on your chin. "Look at me, darlin." He spoke softly, a difference in his voice, the voice that was usually brash and loud was somehow comforting you as you cried. "I love you, so much."

A smile reached your lips when he told you that. "I love you too."

"I will always be here for you, I can't believe I let myself do what I did back there." He admits. "I'm sure Sadie and Charles meant no harm by it as well."

You nod, knowing that there was no mailce behind this.

His hand runs up and down your back, soothing you, calming you down, taking away all your worries. He adjusted you, making sure that you were more than comfortable with him. He just held you.

At once, you were just sniffling, no more tears to shed. He had calmed you down, one of the only people who could.

He was truly the definition of duality, he could go from brutal to plain out kind and caring, and it was all for you. Everything he did, was for you, so you didn't have to worry. You could imagine that he was still constantly cursing himself now that he'd left you at the saloon, then walk all the way back to Shady Belle by yourself.

But now that you were safe in his arms, all those worries went away. "Shhh, shh. Rest, you can sleep now." He cooed, rubbing your neck and placing kisses on your forehead and nose.

You fell asleep shortly after.

a/n if u enjoyed it, smash the like and subscribe! jk, feel free to req more honey!

#red dead redemption 2 #fluff #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 2 months ago

Text

Onstage

What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!

When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)

Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?

Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”

Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.

Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.

“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.

Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.

That ship has sailed, Carol!

Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”

“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.

“How late did you guys stay up?”

“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”

He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.

It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.

Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—

“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.

“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.

You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.

Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”

“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being dumb.

Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”

You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.

And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.

“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”

Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?

This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.

You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…

Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.

“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”

“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”

Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.

“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).

Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.

Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.

“Wait. Really?”

“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.

“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.

“Sure can.”

“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.

“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”

“What the h—”

“—Bro, I know," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”

“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.

That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.

You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”

“Y/N.”

In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.

And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…

And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.

Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. More than stressful.

“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

Man, you’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”

Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”

“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”

He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”

“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.”

“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.

“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."

You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up, buttface.”

Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.

Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with their cattle.

“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”

Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”

“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.

T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.

“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”

“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.

You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”

He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”

“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.

He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.

Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.

That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.

The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.

Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.

Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.

And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine.

You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.

The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.

Huh, cool, your breathing feels a little better, too.

He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”

“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.

The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.

He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.

Glenn.

To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.

And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.

Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.

You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.

And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.

Ew, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin’ for you. Can you come upstairs?”

“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.

She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.

And you’re right.

Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.

The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.

“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”

“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—

—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so, small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”

Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”

“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!

“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.

Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”

For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.

She shakes her head.

You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.

“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well, we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.

Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.

They're sharing...all of those?

You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”

“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.

But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.

“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”

The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.

Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.

You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.

But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?

The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.

Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.

Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like longer.

Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.

The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.

When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”

When you pull away from her, she's insistent. “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”

“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.

“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”

“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.

“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”

“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’re well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.

Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!

Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.

“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”

Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!

Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).

Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.

Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.

“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.

With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”

She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”

Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.

The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.

Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?

The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.

“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”

“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.

“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.

Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”

Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”

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

Him

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

“I can’t hunt?”

“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or bring back what you hunted, for one, if you would even make it off the property without keeling over.”

Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.

Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”

“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.

Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.

Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”

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

You

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

Dude, you had a panic attack.

It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.

It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.

Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”

Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”

This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.

Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.

Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.

It’s been a week now since Shane's betrayal of her and Rick. Even you are still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.

Back to the moment, you next worried that what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too.

Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed, as if everyone and anyone, seen or unseen, was staring you down.

Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.

The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help. You felt so restless and, oddly, cornered.

And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down.

Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe.

Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”

Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but.

You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted to her that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said.

The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.

Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.

She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.

Over and over she coached you until things started to ease.

You looked around you. Your new sweater was hanging off your elbows. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.

“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.

“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”

“Were you wheezing?”

“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.

She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”

“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.

“Was it about Maggie?”

You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”

Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”

That's ridiculous! was your initial reaction, which is why, at first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

“It looked different from where I was. But even still, it didn’t have to be or feel ‘dramatic’ to have been one. You know that.” The nonjudgemental straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”

More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.

But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.

In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.

So what did you do?

You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.

“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.

So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.

“When he had what?”

She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." A look of pure guilt. "And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistakes! It's not fair to you.”

“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.

Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?

All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.

‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth that you can cast stones.

You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.

Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”

“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”

Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”

That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”

She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”

“I know, b-but—”

“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”

“But wh—”

“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.

And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.

In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”

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

Him

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

Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.

It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a screen all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.

Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.

If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.

Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.

His first view when he steps out into freedom is Glenn and the teenage boy kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.

The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.

Phew.

This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.

…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.

Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.

The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?

Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.

Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.

And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as she steps toward him.

“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.

She’s been very, um, attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.

There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and she wasn't coughing.

“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”

Closer. Great.

Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.

Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.

“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y/N and I tidied your tent.”

…

...

…they what?

He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.

His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff?? What gives y'all the right?

But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.

So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.

“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.

Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.

Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”

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

You

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

“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”

“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”

“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”

“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.

Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?

Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”

There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”

Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.

“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”

A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”

“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”

He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”

“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.

This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.

“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”

“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”

“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.

“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”

Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.

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

Him

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

As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.

His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.

And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.

In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!

Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.

But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.

Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.

So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.

All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.

“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.

She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.

“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks as shamefaced as can be.

Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.

He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch if he asked.

Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes.

“I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”

He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.

But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

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

You

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

“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.

“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.

“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”

“What appeal?”

“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”

Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”

You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.

Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.

But…okay: maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.

Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.

“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.

“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”

“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.

“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”

“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”

Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.

When Dale mentioned today’s date, you remembered it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.

Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”

Book?? To Daryl? But the concussion! “A book?”

“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.

It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.

“Oh shit.”

“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.

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

Him

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

For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” He ain't never seen her in a dress.

And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”

“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. Carefully, he unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.

“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”

Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand. His hand must be good and warm for it.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.

Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.

“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head using the feathers on his bolt.

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.

Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing thing that keeps happening to Daryl's face that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can make something up on the spot: “How you gonna search in that?”

“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”

Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?

Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.

“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?

Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.

Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”

Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”

She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.

Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?

“Can you point your toes three times?”

He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.

“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”

He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”

She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”

“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”

“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”

He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.

Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does, and his train of thought derails.

Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.

Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.

Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.

So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”

“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.

So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?

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

You

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

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. But like, the way he snuggled the chick, and how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? It was an accident! Ohh, but how he'd noticed your panicking so was all soothing and stuff...

Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing in your latest stage performance. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning!

Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And, hold up, there's no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

Eh, you've earned a B- so far at being chill. You've got to get that grade up.

So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!

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

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @oceanticspace ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ; @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @redjaylee ; @thegirlwiththepurpleshelves

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes! Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox. We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

Note

Hi would u be interested in writing something about Azriel being really soft with his mate and the IC find it cute but funny to see the scary spymaster acting like a love sick puppy?

Only you my girl

Azriel was known for being as quiet as the night. For being as cold as the deepest winter. To read him was nearly impossible. He was an observer. He collected information even when others thought there was nothing important to pinpoint at that exact moment. He sat in silence. He nodded when others talked, occasionally though. Said a word or two if the situation asked for it. But for the time, his presence in family gatherings was hazy. A true shadow this man was.

And then you came into his life. At first, his secretive nature had blossomed even more. Azriel got even quieter. Even more hard to read. The day he brought you over had been rather awkward. You were his lover - that's what was stated. Yet he sat there as if you weren't right beside him. While Cassian held Nesta close. Rhys's hands were resting on Feyre's. Azriel just couldn't and you knew it. This was new. He didn't know how. He wasn't sure if this was part of him. This vulnerable part of him could be shown.

It started slow. Azriel's hand-wound lingers on your thigh beneath the table. You didn't acknowledge it at first. Because Azriel and touch was like kid and medicine. The moment you point out the inevitable existence of one and another you get a negative correlation that leads to absolute opposite outcomes.

So you let him squeeze your thigh in peace. Then came the little rubs and him reaching for your hand. His chair would be scotched closer to yours. And so the little thing unfolded. You were glad that others never brought it up either. You knew how much they cared for the shadowsinger. Cassian had made it real clear that he didn't usually fight women but that if you were to hurt Azriel he would not be responsible for his actions to which you had nodded. They all had watched the spymaster suffering alone for long enough. Everyone was happy to get fed the crumbs of his open affection. Smiling tenderly when they were lucky to catch a glimpse of it.

But then came the trouble in the camps. The boys were barely home. At one point they had been away for more than a couple of days. That had broken something in Azriel though. It was the first time he had been away for a longer period of time. He was the last to come through the door. Barely dragged his feet. Tight frown on his face. Gears in his head turned so loudly it was hard to not hear it. You pushed off the wall. Moving past the other two couples lost in their conversation.

"Hey, big boy", you muttered, stepping closer, hands reaching to clasp Azriel's palms. "I hate it when you call me that", Azriel said flatly. Yet his mind had staggered for just a moment. "Right, forgot you preferred sugar plum more", you teased him, leaning against his chest more. That made a slight chuckle slip past Azriel's lips. Even if he rolled his eyes at your nicknames Azriel enjoyed them immensely, since no one had even cared enough to give him a loving nickname before.

The spymaster looked down at your much smaller frame. Hands still intertwined. The fact that he could hear your heartbeat so clearly calmed him down. Settled his demons. "Missed you", he muttered quietly, moving his hand to cup your cheek. "I missed you so much as well. The bed was so cold without you", you hummed, pressing your cheek deeper into his palm. Loving the feeling of his rougher skin. Azriel couldn't help but smile at your words, "That's the only thing you missed?", he teased. You gasped, shaking your head, "You horny...", "Oh, who said I was implying sex, I just meant my looks and charm", Azriel sassed, his words followed by a snort across the room.

Both of you instantly turned your gazes. Azriel's arms tightened against your body as you found four sets of eyes watching you. "Look at you joking around, huh", Cassian beamed, "Now we can tease him for being badly in love", Rhys added causing the rest of the family to chuckle. You bit your lip as you felt Azriel lower his head to your shoulder. "Leave my baby alone", you said, hand now combing through Azriel's tangled curls. "Oh, a baby", Cassian made baby sounds, whining till Nesta hit his chest.

"You never learned to play nice, huh?", you said to Cassian, but before the lord of bloodshed could answer you felt cold mist starting to swirl around you as Azriel winnowed with you still in his arms. "Tell me to eat his bacon in the morning", Azriel grumbled, bringing you even closer to him. Now more than ever I need to feel you in his arms. You chuckled, "I'll help you with that", you stated before wrapping yourself around your mate's frame.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar imagine

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angelcakestarlet · 1 year ago

Text

salvatore pt 2

richie jerimovich x reader

warnings: age gap, cheating (eventually) (guys it's for the plot i swear), drugs mentioned, swearing.

as requested here is part two!! thank u for the support cuties <3

"hands, fuckers! i need hands table 13, someone come on!" richie's voice echos through the bustling kitchen. it was a busy saturday night, the kitchen was in the weeds, and the restaurant was full as shit. the chicago bears were playing the packers tonight which meant men, drunk men, who would camp out the entire game sitting at the bar or at a table ordering one meal for the whole night. while your apron was stained and you hadn't reapplied lipgloss in the last three hours, you took a quick peak in the mirror and concluded you still looked good enough for that 20% tip. your cheeks were flushed from running around the restaurant getting beer refills and pitchers for nearly every damn table. you should've called off, honestly.

"I got hands!" you came up behind richie. he passed you the plates with a rag beneath them, "here wouldn't want you to burn yourself, sweetheart". you smiled at him, something about richie made your stomach drop in a way that made you feel guilty. every time he spoke to you, it churned your stomach. you knew it was wrong, the whole 'older man' ordeal, you knew that you should probably feel disgusted at his little remarks towards you. but if anything, that was the cherry on top. you walk out the kitchen, feeling his eyes burning into your back. tina smacks richie's shoulder, "staring at that girl like you wanna eat her" she scoffs disapprovingly. he smirks, eyes trailing you.

"alright guys i have the italian beef sandwich, fries on the side?" you ask the men in front of you wearing their grey bear jerseys, setting it down on the table. "they got you on the side too?" one of the guys snickers, shoving his elbow into his buddy. you fake a sweet laugh, "depends, there's an upcharge for me", anything for that tip. glancing up at the clock, "two more hours to go," you sigh. and for the next two hours, the game finishes up and people start slowly leaving the restaurant. you get those who linger, collecting their betting pool winnings or reaping their loses at the bar. you start getting ready to cash out, calculating your earnings for the day when richie creeps up behind you. "how'd you do today, doll?" referring to your tips racking up on the screen, "guess" you look over your shoulder at him. his face is glowing with a sheen of sweat, rag draped over his shoulder, chain having fallen beneath his shirt, he looked good. "a girl like you? i'm gonna say you made 200 tonight." "try 350," he peers over your shoulder, he lets out a whistle and you can feel his breath blow past your ear. "they like you out here huh?" you turn around to completely face him, his face merely inches away "why wouldn't they?" he chuckles at your response. "god you've got a mouth on you" you notice his eyes pan over you, his response makes you go red. you can only feign confident for so long, his words strike you somewhere deep inside. he notices your flushed state, smiles, and makes his way back to the kitchen. when the doors close behind him you realize you've been holding your breath.

you make your way to the office to check out with carmen, "how did you do today, y/n?" he's seated in his office chair, legs spread and obviously tired. "really good, i'm really liking it here, chef. thank you for the opportunity to work here" you smile hands behind your back, "that's good to hear, you let me know if anyone gives you any type of trouble alright? including fucking cousin over there." you laugh, "trust me, everyone's been really welcoming". once you're done cashing out, you take your purse and head out. outside you find yourself two lingering drunks from the game, "where are you heading to so fast? hold on," one of the guys approaches you, you roll your eyes and continue making your way down the sidewalk. "hey, i'm fucking talking you, you too good to respond or something" you can smell the alcohol coming from his breath as he comes up to tug on your wrist. "fuck off, don't touch me!" you shrug his wrist off, "is there a fucking problem here or something?" you hear richie's scruff voice behind you. before he gets to say anything else the guy backs away from you, you turn around to see richie lifting his white shirt just above his stomach to reveal his gun. the sight gives you that familiar feeling, you almost feel a shiver down your spine. "cause I don't think we would want any problems, right?" he gets closer to you, putting a finger through your belt loop to secure you. "you're right man, we're good, we're good." the guys shuffle away almost tripping over their feet. richie tugs on your belt loop, turning you to face him, "you okay, sweetheart? what are you doing walking home at this hour, do you want to get fucking taken by some jagoff?" he put his shirt back down, covering his gun. you stay a bit stunned, "let me give you a ride, come on." you grab his wrist lightly, "thank you, richie, fuck. um fuck..." you grip your hair, about to follow him to his car you see headlights behind you. "shit um... thank you for the offer, and for helping richie. i was just already waiting on-" you hesitate catching his eye as he looks off to the car pulling over in the distance. "I was waiting on my boyfriend." you peer behind you to see him behind the wheel, he usually picks you up from work. richie nods, smirking almost "your uh boyfriend shouldn't make his girl wait for him like that, especially at night. have a good night, doll" he rubs his chin, turns and makes his way to his car. you sigh, questioning your own moment of hesitation before saying 'boyfriend'. you stare at the silhouette of his tall stature walk away, envisioning the cold gun that rests between his jeans and his stomach and bite down on your lip.

"how was work, babe?"

#richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #the bear #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader

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sethsclearwater · 2 years ago

Text

requests: “could you do an imagine w embry (or any of the wolf pack boys) where their imprint doesn’t know abt the werewolf/vampire stuff and sees one of the pack members phase for the first time and freaks out a little bit? <3” and “can u pls do an imagine where embry and jacob get into a fight and they phase in front of reader and she totally freaks out and she’s paul’s imprint and he has to calm her down?”

warnings: paul getting on his knees for reader

notes: reader goes through all 5 stages of grief and then some lmao

word count: 1.8k

…

you found yourself at emily’s house, sitting outside on her porch with your boyfriend’s friends, waiting for emily and the rest of the girlfriends to get back from their trip to the grocery store. you had been dating paul for almost a year now and had been friends with his friend group for most of that time.

you were sitting on paul’s lap in one of the rocking chairs, curled in his lap as you listened to embry crack jokes about how he was making a fool of himself pining after bella. “jake man,” embry laughed, “you seriously gotta get it together. there’s no way they’re letting you stay in their tent - edward would be a clown if he let that fly.” he laughed again, referencing the camping trip the boys and the cullen family would soon be taking.

you giggled, attempting to hide your laughter in paul’s shirt. jacob rolled his eyes, getting up and walking off the porch and into the yard, “you don’t understand!” he yelled over his shoulder to embry who was still cracking himself up along with jared and quil, “she’s meant to be with me - i’m obviously the better choice than a leech!” he yelled and you missed the warning look sam shot him as you were too focused on how he looked like he was literally shaking he was so angry.

“she’s definitely not you clown!” embry called back, still getting a kick out of it. you sensed that something was wrong so you got off of paul’s lap, heading down the porch steps to follow him, paul calling after you when he realized what you were doing.

“jake-” you sighed, ignoring paul’s calls to you, only looking over your shoulder when you heard footsteps running down the porch followed by a loud growl. you looked back over to jake as he quite literally shifted into a giant wolf, almost exactly as the quileute legends had depicted at the council meetings. “paul,” you whispered anxiously, turning around and sprinting back towards the porch where paul was waiting looking just as shocked as you.

“paul!” you screamed again, running into his arms and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding your head to his chest as sobs racked through your body, neither of you sure how to respond to what you just witnessed.

“shhhhh…” he murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “you’re okay, you’re okay.” he cooed, slowly rocking you back and forth as you tried to catch your breath and figure out what was going on.

“what even was that- why did he-” you blubbered, looking up at paul as you let out another sob, fists tightening on his t-shirt as you held onto him tightly.

paul watched you sadly, continuing to hold you tightly to his chest as he tried to figure out what to say. he had zero plans of telling you about the wolves anytime soon, figuring the less you knew the better but now that all went to shit thanks to jacob.

“i didn’t want to tell you,” paul sighed, watching your facial expressions in an attempt to get a better reading of you but was left with nothing as you continued sobbing, tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks.

“you weren’t gonna tell me that your friend turns into a giant wolf?” you exclaimed, not sure whether you should be mad at him or grateful. he clearly didn’t want to tell you because of the absolutely horrific reaction he correctly anticipated you’d be having.

paul sighed again, “i didn’t want to stress you out about it,” he explained softly, “between your classes and work and everything i didn’t think there was a good time to tell you.”

you whimpered, not sure how to respond so you just buried your face in the crook of his arm, hugging him just as tightly as he was holding you. you thought about it then, how his friend group was all so close, all of them were always at the council meetings suspiciously after they had their “glow ups” as you called it (or steroids as the rest of la push called it). the more you thought of it, the more things started clicking into place and you turned your head to look over at jacob, who was still a massive wolf, and the rest of paul’s friend group were surrounding him and trying to calm him down.

you froze then, slowly releasing your grip on paul’s shirt as you squirmed out of his grip, cautiously stepping back from him. paul watched you wearily, and by the look on his face, he knew you figured it out.

“y/n,” your name fell off his lips, both of you anxiously waiting for the other to say something, “i’m sorry.” he said softly, stepping closer to you but you stepped back, your back now pressed up against emily’s porch.

“don’t touch me-” you whimpered, anxiously looking around as you tried to figure out what your options were. you quickly realized there was no way you were going to outrun an entire pack of massive wolves with anger management problems.

in your anxiety you missed the heartbroken look paul had on his face, equally unsure of how to calm you down without intimidating you. “i’m not gonna hurt you princess,” paul attempted to reassure you, frowning as you looked back to him, looking up with tears still rapidly streaming down your face.

seeing you weren’t calming down and, if anything, were working yourself up more, he raised his hands so you could see his palms, slowly lowering himself to the ground until he was on his knees in front of you. you watched the notoriously proud man cautiously, slowly taking in a deep breath with him as you tried to recenter yourself so you could catch your breath.

your bottom lip warbled as you tried to calm yourself down, “paul-” you sobbed his name after a moment, quickly dropping down so you could sit on his lap, wrapping yourself around him when you realized he was being genuine when he said he wasn’t going to hurt you. paul let out an audible exhale, quickly wrapping his arms around you and held you tightly to his chest.

“shhh…” he cooed, “take some deep breaths princess.” he murmured into your hair, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your side and shoulder as he held you close to him.

you nodded, sniffling as you worked at calming yourself through deep breaths like he suggested, “there you go,” he whispered as he felt your breathing start to even out after a minute, “good job kitten.” he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of your head.

after a few minutes you looked up at him, sliding your hands up his chest as you tried to figure out what to say, paul sensed your hesitence and slid one hand up your back and gently cupped your face in his hand, “are you okay?” he asked softly, watching as you slowly nodded, looking over to the rest of the boys who seemed to have calmed jacob down and were making their way back over to the two of you.

“none of them are gonna hurt you, i promise.” he reassured, sensing the jump in your heart rate when you saw the boys walking back over.

you slowly nodded again, looking back over to paul, “so you…” you trailed off, not sure how to ask your boyfriend if he turned into a massive werewolf.

“turn into a wolf? yea.” paul finished for you, thumb brushing the stray tears off your cheeks. “it was right after we started going out - i didn’t know how to tell you without scaring you.” he continued, offering you a sad smile when you nodded, wrapping your arms back around his neck and hugging him tightly to you.

you lifted your head when you heard the familiar sound of sam’s truck pulling into the driveway, emily and you made eye contact and she quickly jumped out of the truck, running over to you and paul. “oh honey,” she cooed, kneeling down in the dirt with you and paul. you leaned off paul for a moment to hug her which she quickly reciprocated. “he told you?” she asked softly, hugging you tighter when you nodded against her shoulder.

“finally!” kim and rachel’s voices came from behind you. you let out a weak laugh, letting go of emily and shifting in paul’s lap to straighten yourself out as you brushed away your stray tears with the back of your hand.

“what happened?” leah’s voice came from beside you as she kneeled next to her cousin, also watching you wearily.

“embry,” sam emphasized before continuing, “called jacob a clown and he shifted in front of her.” he explained as the rest of the boys came over, everyone sitting down by you and paul.

“sorry,” embry mumbled sheepishly, both of you letting out soft laughs at how stupid jacob’s anger was, “i didn’t think he was crazy like that!” embry added, causing a few laughs to erupt from everyone else.

paul gently ran his hand up your back, offering you a soft smile, “you feeling better?” he asked softly and you nodded, taking another deep breath with him.

“billy is gonna lose his mind when he hears what went down-” quil laughed, “the council meeting tonight is gonna be so much fun!” he exclaimed, the rest of the pack laughing in agreement.

you sniffled as you let out another giggle, “why don’t you two go back to your apartment and get ready and then we’ll meet you there?” emily suggested thoughtfully, giving your hip a soft squeeze.

paul nodded, “you okay with that?” he asked you softly, the corner of his lip pulling into a smile when you nodded, “okay let’s do that then.” he cooed, getting up with you in his arms.

you peeked over your shoulder, waving goodbye to the boys, embry, quil, and jared blowing you kisses causing you to giggle as paul led you over to his car.

by the time the council meeting came around that night you were able to calm yourself down, take a shower, and get changed into something comfortable so you could hear the legends with a new, more accurate perspective.

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whyse7vn · 2 years ago

Text

SEVEN -

[ ot7 x reader ]

sevendaysafreak

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: we are watching jungkook slowly become alpha

namjoon: can you be normal today

jk: do you really mean that bro…

tae: with all my heart..

oh my god i’m tearing up

this is what being a real man is about

jimin: begging for pussy??

jk: I DID NOT BEG??

hobi: you harassed that poor woman for a whole week

yoongi: all for a hand hold

y/n: crazy!

tae: okay??

but it was literally real as fuck so does it matter??

jimin: it was real fucking sad

jin: personally if i was her i would of called the police like sexual harassment hello???

yoongi: right

namjoon: it was a great song jungkook

jk: > //// <

i’m blushing

that was me blushing

and i giggled a little

smiling rn

hehehehehe

namjoon: a thank you would of done it

jk: thank u >.<

jimin: she should of punched him

jin: was there need for an explicit version like??

we got the point the first time

i didn’t need to hear how horny you were for a second time

hobi: he just wanted to swear

tae: no he’s just real as fuck you wouldn’t get it

jk: real as fuck

yoongi: ig it was real as fuck for jungkook

he begs for pussy on a daily

jk: proof?

hobi: by bts

y/n: i’ll leak our dms

jk: DON’T DON’T DON’T

i’m sowyy 😣

jimin: i’m gonna punch him

hobi: fucking seven days a week doesn’t seem right

is that not how you get an std?

jk: no?

yoongi: is that not when you fuck multiple people?

y/n: you fuck multiple people jk?

jk: NO?????

jimin: why is ur no a question

hobi: suspicious

jin: jungkook has crabs

tae: that’s a real man disease

y/n: that’s gross

jk: i’m real

jimin: real itchy

namjoon: can we not talk about stds pls

y/n: i bet jay park has a couple of those

jk: ???

jimin: REALLLL

jin: that’s why him and jk are friends bonded over the burn

jk: i’m not his friend anymore

y/n: character development okay!!!

yoongi: was that bcs he stole from you?

jk: stop talking to me rn

jimin: OMG GUYS

yk i had the worst dream ever yesterday tae was in it

tae: and?

jimin: wdym and

tae: i hope you die

namjoon: pls don’t wish death upon people tae

jimin: yeah tae

tae: all of you can fucking die idc!!!

not jungkook tho he real as fuck

y/n: say real as fuck one more time and i’ll snap ur neck

jin: hot asf

yoongi: ew?

tae: nobody wants to see us winning jk it’s sad 😞

jk: i’m sobbing 💔💔😞😞💔💔

tae: they literally told us to kill ourselves

namjoon: literally no one said that

jimin: in fact YOU said you hope i die

jk: he could of meant by natural causes

tae: right i would never tell you to kill ur self that’s sick and evil

yoongi: kys

tae: ur not going to heaven

yoongi: aw man 🙁

hobi: what if we put tae in the electric chair

jin: what if we put tae and jungkook in the electric chair

jk: wtf ☹️

tae: i could easily survive the electric chair it would feel good to me actually

y/n: i’ve been telling you guys for years we need to lock them up

do you actually read the bullshit they say on a daily it’s actually insane they need help

like professional help

jk: i didn’t even say anything

jimin: you don’t need to

we just know

namjoon: i agree

we could send them to a camp

or something

tae: why are you talking about us like we’re not RIGHT here

jungkook get them omg

jk: i can’t go to camp

too much raw air exposure is bad for my skin

and i have a dentist appointment soon

yoongi: raw air?

jin: how soon is ur appointment?

jk: so soon that i can’t go to camp

tae: JUNGKOOK STAND UR GROUND

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

REPEAT AFTER ME

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

namjoon: tae shut up

y/n: right

tae: i liked it better when you guys just ignored me in this gc

now all you do is be mean

jimin: maybe u deserve it

*you definitely deserve it

hobi: stop talking then idk

yoongi: i will gladly ignore you again

jk: i love you tae i’ll listen to you talk

jin: jungkook the biggest dick rider ever

tae: he’s my little dick rider 🥰😍❤️

hobi: yeah definitely stop talking

namjoon: okay!

y/n: oh my god

jimin: ???

yoongi: um

jin: this is what seven was really about

jk: bro..

tae: lol

jimin: you're really gorgeous i would deadass fight 3 mountain lions in a mcdonald's handicap bathroom stall with my hands tied behind my back and my only weapon is a shake weight glued to my forehead just to get a chance to get to know you and take u out tbh

jin: nurse he’s out again

jimin: wrong chat lol

tae: and you wanna put ME in the electric chair

ur all out of ur minds

namjoon: you were gonna send that to someone????

jimin: is it bad?

y/n: so unbelievably bad

jk: blushing

yoongi: wow

tae: yikes

hobi: bts never beating the rizzless allegations

y/n: who were you gonna send that too?

jk: was it me?

yoongi: that was flirting?

jin: probably the notes app

jimin: no one

jin: told you

notes app.

jk: it wasn’t me?

tae: i’ll be nice and give you some better lines jimin dw

jimin: the only lines you have are of coke

tae: nvm fuck you stay bitchless

namjoon: leave jimin alone

jimin: right leave me alone

namjoon: he’ll open up in his own time

jimin: i fucking won’t

you guys deserve to know NOTHING about me

yoongi: okay don’t care kys

jimin: i have a crush

jin: i’m hungry

hobi: is this the same crush you talked about like 4 weeks ago??

jk: on me?

sorry jimin i’m already in love with someone else

yoongi: didn’t ask

jk: i won’t tell you who it is it’s a secret

namjoon: a secret from who??

jk: what does that mean…

namjoon: don’t we all know…

jin: i SAID i’m hungry

jimin: all you do is eat like omg??

get a job or something??????

jin: i have a job

i serve face for a living i would suggest you look into it since you have so much free time to BULLY and HARASS others but with a face like urs idk if you’ll make the cut

y/n: wow

jimin: i’m not reading all that 💀

y/n: never use that emoji again ew

jimin: 💀💀💀💀💀

y/n: this is why whoever ur trying to rizz up probably thinks ur a loser

yoongi: is it taemin again?

tae: ew you run back to taemin every 4 months it’s kinda embarrassing

jimin: taehyung you actually need to shut ur mouth

breathing the same air as you is embarrassing

and at least i have someone to run back to you are actually genuinely bitchless

tae: u are taemin’s bitch

so technically ur as bitchless

yoongi: gay

jk: don’t be a homocrome

namjoon: stop talking

jimin: it’s not even taemin so shut the hell up

i’m not talking about this anymore

moving on

hobi: what is your mbti guys

jk: physical touch

namjoon: that wasn’t the question

y/n: just say ur horny and go omg

jin: don’t

seven was actually enough

i will hear NO more about jungkooks sex life

everything i have learnt has been without my consent

my lawyers will be in touch

jk: my lawyers are ur lawyers

jin: not anymore

jk: omg…

hobi: oh my oh my god

namjoon: jin stop facetiming me i’m not answering

jin: pls joon pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee

namjoon: i’m not sitting there for you to look at urself in the camera for an hour

i have things to do

jimin: that sounds like very jobless behaviour to me tbh

jin: you can’t be ugly and jealous pls pick a struggle

tae: and rizzless

hobi: i know ur not talking…

tae: ????

hobi: tae i need you to do some self reflection

tae: okay?

i’m hot as fuck

cool as fuck

and real as fuck

i feel well reflected ty for suggesting that hoseok

y/n: i told you i’m gonna snap ur neck if you said that again

start running

jin: coming to watch 🥰

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cowboyfromh3ll · 1 year ago

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Last time u did a sex hcs for the vanderlinde gang but u forgot our sassy pookie bear eagle flies(which is understandable considering her isn't part of the gang), so i think we should get him some smutty hcs just for him. Stuff like his fav positions, his fav place to do it, is he vanilla or not, if he's kinky what kind of kinks he has. Just stuff like that :3

Eagle Flies NSFW HC

My babygirl eagle flies, my beloved. Of course I'll write this for you.

Loves positions where he can see your ass so doggy, reverse cowgirl, your ass hanging off the bed, anything like that

I feel like he puts on a condom at first but half way through he takes it off and goes raw instead

I've said it before, but he loves car sex

His car windows r always foggy anytime you two are in there

Sometimes y'all will be parked up and he'll feign a sigh and stretch before reeling his chair back and looking at you suggestively

His back seats probably have several generations worth of children on em

Even though it's cramped he puts you in the same crazy positions

And yes he gets em deep cleaned don't worry

Also likes risk factor so he'll want to fuck no matter who's home or in the next room or outside the tent, it's honestly just more incentive for him to do it

I said before he'd want to try edging. When he has the patience, one of his favorite things to do will be to masturbate in front of eachother and keep edging until he can cum all over your face

I do think he'd be kinky but after a while of experimenting and figuring out what he likes, it's just based more on what you two feel like doing for the day

Into hair pulling, yank as hard as you can to see how loud he moans

Gets really into it and grips you real hard, like sometimes it gets uncomfortable

Would like it if you bit him or gave him hickeys. Would proudly wear them out in the open around camp or the general public. Just to show off that yes, he has a girlfriend. And yes, he gets some

Likes taking pictures of your face after he's cum on it or your pussy after he's finished inside. Saves em for when you're not around

That or you guys are making movies ifykwim

Likes it when you ride so he can grip your ass and guide you

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #writing #red dead fanfiction #eagle flies rdr2 #eagle flies hc #eagle flies x reader #eagle flies smut #eagle flies #eagle flies smut hc

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spotsandsocks · 1 month ago

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Hiiii Spotty 💕💕💕

I have a few more!

🎅+ blizzard

-❤️🪐

Ok.. in an effort to save you all from endless words today and get all my word prompts done by this merry Christmas Eve. I decided a little challenge was in order. So Saturn my lovely creative pal I’ve combined all the words you sent that I haven’t used into one fic that comes in around 800 words. Let’s see what you think.

The wind is remarkably loud, rattling the window frames of the cabin in a mildly alarming fashion. The gentle flurries of snow from this morning have turned into something much more intense. At least the fire is going strong and at least there’s blankets. The warmth of the one round his shoulder is comforting but he’s still a little cold. What he wouldn’t do for a hot cocoa or some cookies.

A shiver he can’t control catches Eddie’s attention.

“You still cold?”

He nods, “a bit. I’m fine though. Eddie’s eyes are still on him so he feels the need to keep talking. “I checked the weather before we lost the internet, they say it’s officially a blizzard now, should last a few hours.”

Eddie nods and looks away again. A few hours isn’t that bad. The radio is still working at least, it’s playing some kind of old time big band music that always makes him think about those black and white war movies and make his toes tap.

Maybe one day him and Eddie will be able to dance together. Buck thinks he’s like that. The thought comes out of nowhere but that’s been happening more often recently. He’s been thinking he’d like to do a lot of things with Eddie recently.

He’s not going to be doing any of those though. Instead he's reading the only book he was able to find on the shelf, it’s a kids picture book of ‘‘twas the night before Christmas’. Maddie used to read one like it to him when he was little. Buck wonders if Eddie ever read it to Chris or if he’ll get the chance to read it to his own child one day.

That thought makes him lift his eyes from the page to look at Eddie again. He’s also wrapped up in a blanket but nearer the fire, busy doing a crossword from a puzzle book, another left behind item in the cabin they rented for the weekend. The light from the fire is just enough to let him see and scribble down words. He’d refused to wear the pair of mittens they’d found in a drawer earlier to keep his hands warm and Buck can’t actually blame him; they did look a little crusty.

Suddenly Eddie looks up and when he finds Buck already looking at him it just makes him smile and Buck finds he doesn’t really mind having been caught staring.

Eddie’s mouth opens and Buck has a moment of insane hope then Eddie says.

“Six down - ‘inspiring or influencing people’ ten letters, second and third letters U- M”

Closing his riveting read Buck considers the clue, moving his way through the alphabet when he hits L he’s rather ironically illuminated.

“Luminaries”

Eddie’s eyebrows lift alongside a little pout and impressed nod. From his chair Buck has the sudden image of kissing that pout. The image flushes his cheeks but fortunately Eddie’s gone back to his puzzle book so he doesn’t notice.

He shivers again.

Eddie does notice that.

“You’re cold! Come closer to the fire.” Eddie moves to throw on another log. “You know it might be a good idea to sleep out here.”

“Together?” He gulps at the idea of curling up by a fire with Eddie.

“Yeah… need to keep warm don’t we.”

Blinking in the firelight Buck isn’t at all sure how he feels about that idea.

Eddie looks at him and there’s something in his eyes, a glimmer of hope maybe that gives Buck a drop of confidence.

“I think that’s a good idea. We could move the mattress from my room get some blankets. Kinda like a pillow fort but without the pillows.”

Eddie's face lights up. “Yeah, it sounds cozy.”

Clambering to his feet Eddie holds out a hand that Buck takes with a racing heart.

“Let’s get ready for bed then.”

It doesn’t take too long and the activity does keep them warm. Soon there’s a cozy looking camp by the fire and Eddie’s kicking off his shoes and climbing into the like of blankets.

“Come on you’ll get cold again.”

Nodding he copies Eddie and shucks off his shoes and clambers into the makeshift bed. It’s snug, they’re both quite large after all. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind the closeness so Buck thinks it’s ok to enjoy the warmth and intimacy.

“Warmer now”

He nods and makes a joke that changes his life.

“Well my nose is still cold but I can live with that.”

Eddie frowns, “a friend once told me you’re only as warm as your coldest part”

Buck laughs, he knows who told Eddie that. It was him on a star gazing trip.

“Sounds like a smart friend”

Eddie smiles. “He is, in fact he’s everything to me and I don’t think he should have a cold nose.”

Then Eddie kisses the tip of his nose.

“Anything else cold?”

Eddie’s eyes glow in the firelight. He looks nervous and hopeful and Buck can’t believe his luck. Finding Eddie’s hand under the blankets he squeezes it.

“My lips are pretty chilly.”

Eddie smiles, the twinkle in his eye declaring his love as he moves closer.

“Let’s see what we can do about that then.”

So illuminated by firelight, in the middle of a blizzard, wrapped in blankets and love Buck gets kissed by the man he loves and he’s pretty confident he’ll never ever be cold again.

#spottys christmas stocking #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #buddie fic #911 fic #911fic #the last one

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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hi could i ask for #11 with az fron the september prompt list?? i think itd be sooo cute with him!!!! feel free to ignore this if u dont wanna write it! thank u love u

A/N - I love this for our batboy! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Always

Summary - You knew how to bring Azriel back. Always

Warnings - Just some fluff :D

You saw it in his backside first, how his shoulders were hunched and his wings were tucked tight.

Azriel, being the ever-brooding Spymaster that he was, would give off certain signs that he was tense or stressed. Now to any other person, he could hide it so well and not have it been a huge deal. But to others who knew him well, very well, his stress would still be seen and the tension was evident along the tightness of the shoulders and the click of his jawline.

As for you, being his mate and the one true person you knew Azriel the best, his tension and stress were hugely seen.

On the plus side, there were plenty of tricks you’ve done in the past to help ease the tension and lower the stress. Similar things included getting him his favorite tea at night at the ready when he would slump home from the training camps, getting him a new book you knew would strike his interest, and even preparing a favorite meal of his from his childhood that his mother would make him on bad days. They all have worked splendidly, you seeing the look of adoration on his face and the stare of love in his eyes as he hugged and thanked you.

Other things included long walks together in the evening under the bright stars, getting a drink from Rita’s that was not too strong but enough to make him lean back in his chair so to speak, and a hike on the weekend would sometimes be better. Of course, getting him in bed and driving the stress out of him that way never failed.

But there was one last tactic you rarely used on him, a tactic that was linked to a secret that no one else knew about him. Not even Cassian or Rhysand knew this secret, and Azriel would be mortified if they did.

Azriel was ticklish.

You slipped into your bedroom, seeing Azriel already rubbing the back of his neck with a bit of agitation and some grimacing as his wings remained tight along his backside. Closing the door quietly, you hummed and crawled on top of the bed to be right behind him. Placing your hands along his shoulders, you felt him shiver, making you press a kiss against his head.

“How bad was the camp today?” You whispered, feeling him reach up with one hand to touch yours on his shoulder.

“They’re new recruits, trying to get them all on the same page is another kind of torture,” he hummed, squeezing your fingers in his scarred ones, “I think Cassian almost threw one of them off the mountain,”

“That’s why you have captains, Az. To train them, that's not your job anymore,” You gently reminded him.

“Our Captains are not doing their best, which is why I needed to step in a few times,” He explained, sighing in tiredness and a hint of heaviness, “I don’t wanna think about training anymore. I missed you, how was your day?”

You grinned at him asking you, your fingers staying on his shoulders as a way to distract him, though you already had a plan hatched in your mind, “Well, I worked on our garden today and we have a good batch of carrots and cucumbers for our stew that you like, Feyre is in talk with me about maybe visiting Winter Court for a day or two to talk about their Community Center, and then I was thinking—“

Your fingers went to his sides, tickling him mercilessly as he laughed and tumbled onto the bed as if you were not letting up. Just hearing his laugh along made your heart sing, knowing it was genuine and filled with life. Sometimes he would have to force a laugh from meetings with other High Lords from other Courts, just to be civil. You hated those kinds of laughs, nothing like him at all as his real laugh could bring you up from your lowest days. Hearing his laugh for the first time, his real laugh that he would only have with a handful of his close friends, was one of the first things that made you fall in love with him,

One of many things really.

After a few seconds of you tickling him, thinking that you would get the upper hand, Azriel used his own Spymaster tricks on you in a millisecond. Now you were the one pinned under him on your king-sized bed, his fingers getting at your ribs and behind your legs as your laugh was now the one filling the room. Although you knew he would never use intense force on you, you still felt useless in rolling out from under him.

Yet the trick worked, you seeing through your teary eyes that his wings were now hanging loosely at his sides, his shoulders were slumped with the tension flying away in the air, and even his bright hazel eyes were twinkling in delight as you were shaking and shrieking in laughter from his fingers along your skin.

“You give in?!” He asked over your laughing fit. You were giggling like mad, but you nodded your head as he finally backed off with his fingers. But before he could get too far away, you pulled him in by the back of his neck to kiss him softly. He melted against you, arms in your hold and kissing you back smoothly.

This side of Azriel was rare, but such a sight to see. Nothing bothering him, nothing stressing him out to the point of pulling his own hair out. He was at ease, the weight of his duties and the world in itself was nowhere near him. You would fight tooth and nail to make sure he would have this in his life.

Both of your lives.

You pulled away from his lip briefly to scan his eyes, waiting as he caught his breath before you spoke, “All is well, Az. Okay?”

He took in a long breath, smiling as he nodded his head, “Okay,”

There was no more talk of the stress he had that day, not after you two untangled from each other and had dinner in your little kitchen, and after you two took a shower together to wash off the day.

Finally, the stress never returned as you two embraced one another in your bed to let the sleep take over. You knew you would always find a way to help Azriel, no matter how far away he felt.

You’d bring him home. Always.

The End.

September Prompt Sessions

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #fanfiction #writing #acotar #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger

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johnmarstonswife · 17 days ago

Text

Partners in Crime till’ the Day we Die #2

꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ

Chapter two: Debts to be Paid

fandom : red dead redemption online & 2 pairing : sean macguire x f!reader word count : ~4,400 rating : mature warnings : minor coarse language, mentions of hanging and murder, opening spoilers for red dead online, gunfight/gun violence, stabbing summary : you learn more about your conviction and team up with an unexpected supporter, who brings you back on your feet in exchange for help taking down a mutual foe. leading you to start your first mission.

a/n : hii againn ! im back with a second chapter, which is significantly longer lol 🎉 again, thank you sososo MUCH for supporting my story and choosing to read it, it baffles me people actually go out their way to 😭 this chapter is also just story and lore, plus a mission !! i want this story to go slow and really go in depth with the background story before the romance 😻 so sean will be coming in later chapters <3 when he comes be ready for some good slow burn !!! — also the songs at some sections are what i imagine to play during those scenes so u can play them when u read <33

tag list : @heloixe @m1stea

꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓃗 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ

“Hello. Jessica LeClerk, how do you do?” The well groomed lady greets well mannered, her voice velvety and of high status as you and Horley walk up. She adjusted her seating; turning around in her comfortable, red desk chair. Sat at her embellished desk under some tent cover to shield her work space from the harsh desert sun. She was sure wealthy, and rich enough to have this clean, expensively furnished camp in the middle of Tumbleweed. Not to mention her pomaded, sleek, platinum hair; untouched by the surrounding environment and clothes without a single wrinkle.

So, this is the lady Mr. Horley lead you to meet at this pompous camp? Your mind practically swirled with questions, but you decided to be polite for once in a long while and wait until the appropriate time. Well, you had all the time in the world considering you’re freshly out of prison with nowhere to go.

But, before you could introduce yourself once again, she spoke. “What did you tell her?” Turning her attention to Mr. Horley. Facing back towards her neat workspace to supposedly organise her things back up to properly get up and greet you.

“Nothing. As we discussed.” Horley confirms with professionalism, taking a glance at you and back at Ms. LeClerk. She thanks him with a nod, moving up from her seat and swiftly makes her way towards you. Her shined shoes clacking and clicking on the wood planks below with each step. You were basically aching with questions still unanswered, examining every detail of Ms. LeClerk as if to fully grasp any information possible in this confusing situation.

“I do hope we haven’t inconvenienced you dreadfully… but seeing as you were due to be hanged in a week, I’m sure you don’t object too strongly.” She spoke with a huff, stopping in front of you. “I know you’re innocent— well, not perhaps exactly innocent… but not guilty of what you were accused.” LeClerk explained, you nodded along to her speech.

You were glad at the very least some people knew you didn’t commit what you were said to. But, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you weren’t particularly broken out legally and now surely some people are looking for you. Still, better than awaiting your death, though. Moreover, being broke out ‘legally’ doesn’t really swing right with you anyway. Previous to your conviction, you stole various horses under an unknown alias, ‘The Scarlet Cavalier of New Austin’ they called you; since you always wore that iconic red bandana you wore when stealing in the dead of night. Other than horse fencing, you pickpocketed and committed other small crimes to get by, that would’ve had you at the same penitentiary without this false accusation in the first place. So, you shouldn’t really be fussing about, considering that.

“I know you and those who were with you that died…” She continued, Horley going off some place else in camp. “were a little more than patsies, and that you were set up by one of three men, or a woman— possibly by all of them.” Ms. LeClerk sighs, you couldn’t help but think of why these criminals accused you for the crime they committed. Was it personal? Was it just because you were there and it was easy to lay the blame on you? Whatever it was, Mr. Horley and this Jessica LeClerk knew way more than you did. So, you decided you ought to listen rather than bombard with questions. “But that is all I know so far.” She finishes, her hands clasped together in front of her.

Horley walks up again, chiming in. “And one of these people also made Mrs. LeClerk a widow.” He added, turning his gaze to LeClerk again as she stared at you with determined eyes.

“And I will avenge my husband’s death, so help me God.” She said sharply, she sounded awfully vengeful, and rightfully so. “But I will not avenge it upon them who did not cause it…” Her gaze softened as she turned to face you again. “Or caused it unwillingly.” She sighed.

It seemed like she was one of the only ones who had any reasoning in this whole situation. Despite serving a greater loss than any lawman or law giver that put you to prison for, ‘justice’.

“Anyway, I’m sure this is all a touch confusing and melodramatic.” She shakes her head gently, fixing herself up before starting again.

“Uh, where are my manners?” She scolded herself. “Horley, please show our guest to their tent and— give them some fresh clothes to put on.” She instructs, telling Horley to serve you both refreshments afterwards. Horley doing so and leading you to a large, dusty green tent.

“You’ll find a change of clothes in there, alongside a few other items you might need— a lasso, a knife and a lantern, I believe.” He wavers you off before walking back to attended to something else an assistant would; you walking over to the gestured tent to change out of that awful striped uniform that made your blood boil whenever you looked down to see it— reminding you of the wrongful conviction you were served.

Walking into the tent, you moved your eyes to a clothing chest on the ground. Opening the brass latch, neatly folded clothing sat inside. You hummed to yourself as you look through your options. But, what caught your eye laid on top. An, albeit— worn, woven poncho. The design’s pattern was striped in colours of black, ivory-beige and terracotta red. It reminded you so much of the poncho you wore all the time back when you were a young girl living around Rio Bravo with your family in a small homestead. You remember getting it from your grandmother who passed awhile back. It was all too familiar.

You immediately take the poncho in your hands, bringing it up and opening it to inspect it. Perfect. You set it aside on the ground, digging around the wooden chest for the essentials. Eventually, finding a dark grey, striped button up and a pair of really nice, black, bandito, leather pants. Somewhere deep in the bottom of the chest had some suspenders and black riding gloves which you happily slipped on with the other clothing items. Finally, adorning a pair of dirty, black boots and collecting the items Horley told you to get.

Opening the canvas flaps of the tent, you make your way back to Mrs. LeClerk under that same tented area she was sat in. Still busy writing something and doing some sort of important work you assume.

“The clothes are nice. Lot of options there.” You smile gratefully. Still looking down at the new outfit you’re wearing; pleased that you’re not in an itchy, striped jumpsuit for once.

She turns in her seat again, gazing at your new attire you picked out. “Well, that looks more comfortable.” She nods with approval, before turning back. “Horley.” She acknowledges as Horley comes back with a tray holding two, well crafted glasses of some sort of undisclosed alcohol. Seeming like maybe a wine.

“Here, madam.” Mr. Horley presents the tray to you, you gladly take the glass in your hand and thank him. Mrs. LeClerk gets up from her seat once again to walk back up to where you and Horley stand.

“Your very good health. I suppose it beats dying, hm?” She comments, taking her glass from the tray between her fingers and taking a sip, her red lipstick staining the glass. You also take a sip, the rich, drying liquid graces your tongue, as it slides down your throat. You hadn’t had a drink, let alone alcohol in a while; it was quite refreshing.

As the two of you finish your sip, Horley begins to elaborate more on the situation. Explaining how Mrs. LeClerk’s husband was murdered by one of his business partners; Mrs. LeClerk chiming in, stating how she intends for you to find out who killed her husband— and pay them the same medicine. An assassin? A mercenary? You weren’t quite so sure, but what you did know, you intend to exact revenge. Because this husband-killer, was most likely the same one who framed you. Moreover, you had a debt to pay for Mrs. Jessica LeClerk and her assistant, Horley, for breaking you out.

She began again, “You’re the only person I could possibly trust… to do whatever it takes.” You nod, sure, you’ve done crimes in the past before being sent to prison; but, you haven’t killed anyone— on purpose. Well… maybe a few. Whatever it was, you’ll do it.

“Because, you and your accomplices— you’re the only other victim of their lies still alive.” She sighs, moving over to a round table next to her tented desk area, you and Horley following. “You see… you walked into that town at approximately the same time my husband was shot in the back, but by another gun.” She elaborated, setting herself down on a chair at that round table, placing her glass down.

You listened intently, trying to not miss a detail in her explanation. Continuing to nod your head to the appropriate times and sipping on the wine in your hand.

“Firing the same bullets to those you possessed, when you were arrested. These bullets.” She opens a small ammo box on the table, laying three of the rounds in her palm. Your eyebrows furrowed in response. Connecting the dots with each piece of information revealed by LeClerk. “This was their mistake.” She swiftly placed the bullets back into the ammo box and shut it. “You were rounded up and sentenced to death, all because you came to town and didn’t talk too much and seemed like you were nasty.” She retold, handing the ammo box to Horley as he hastily takes it away and returns with three cards in hand.

You still remember that day as clear as a summers day in Armadillo. Blackwater. It was the early afternoon as you rode into town, hopping off your horse and planning to make your way to the gunsmith and buy some new rounds— maybe pickpocket a few unsuspecting people here and there. And of course that unfolded. What if you never rode into town that day? You think of that every day. But, regret waits for no one. That’s something you always lived by. You guess you picked that up from your grandmother. Always teaching you that notion, not knowing what you would apply that to if she were here now.

Mrs. LeClerk shows you the cards, each one actually being a photo portrait of each person who conspired in her husband’s death.

“Mr. Jeremiah Shaw. Banker, real estate speculator, and crook.” She sets the card in between her index and thumb, pulling out another. “Mr. Amos Lancing. Ranch owner, speculator, and crook.” Stacking the photo on top the other. “Mrs, Grace Lancing, his wife. Society patroness, lover of the arts, crook… and my former best friend.” She wavers her hand at that statement, passing you each photo card as you also inspect them, trying to remember their faces and take as good of a look you could.

“Teddy Brown, her disgraced brother. Outlaw, wanted man and still in contact with them.” She hands you the last photo, looking back up to you. “All I ask of you is your help in finding out quite what happened.” She finishes, taking her glass and sipping the red wine out of it.

Horley walks back over, taking the photo cards from your hand, and replacing it with a warm metal bowl of stew. “Mrs. LeClerk would like to help you get back on your feet… get back to work.” Leaving again to presumably put away the photos.

“Whatever your work may be, I don’t judge” Mrs. LeClerk adds, whilst you take a spoonful of warm stew. One of your first real meals in a long while. The meaty flavour tasting divine— though anything would at this point. Swallowing as the warmth meets your stomach.

“Well, that’s a good thing.” You chuckle slightly to yourself, shaking your head softly and taking another spoon of gamey stew. Before seating yourself on the chair opposite Mrs. LeClerk and placing your bowl of stew down on the table.

She breaths with amusement before starting again. “You wanna rob? Rob. You wanna save innocent folk? Do that as well.” She says almost like a philosopher, which you could believe by the way she said it. “But you need me as much as I need you. I think we all understand each other.” She ends, resting her arms on the table as Horley enters once more.

“I hope we do.” He agrees, standing beside Mrs. LeClerk.

You nod, “I think we do.” an almost determined glint in your eyes that seemed to be transferred from her. A small, pleased smile draws on her well kept face.

“Good.” She breathes, clearly pleased as you finish up your stew and both of you get back on your feet, out of your seats, slowly walking to her tented workplace and stopping. “I look forward to rewarding you for killing those who made me a widow.” She ends, before going on about her husband. How he was a believer in the West and how he was killed by greed. Her tone reminiscent and solemn as she spoke about her late husband. It seemed she loved him a lot.

“I don’t care what your scruples are as to killing. I will take the full burden of that upon my shoulders.” She declares, her voice turning determined once again, you could practically feel the burgeoning flame radiating off her. She meant it. Truely. “Goodbye. For now.” Mrs. LeClerk concludes, turning around and walking back to her desk, stoping in her tracks and turning to Horley. “Then Horley, go introduce her to nice Mr Cripps.” She directs, turning around finally as Horley nods, turning the opposite direction and gesturing you to follow.

“I think you’ll like Cripps well enough. He’s long past his prime of course, but uh… he hasn’t gone entirely crazy just yet.” He jokes, though you’re not sure if he was actually or not. “And he will help you, better than most of his ilk.” He walks you to an half open tented area, seemingly an area for crates and what not. An old, grey bearded, bald man with scruffy clothes lays against the various barrels, crates and jugs, eyes closed. Seemingly resting or sleeping.

“Cripps.” Horley awakens the old man and he jolts awake slightly, blinking his eyes open. “Get up.” Horley helps Cripps on his feet, pulling him from his seated position on the ground as he greets you.

“Hello partner’, Horley.” Cripps chuckles, his voice gruff and friendly.

Horley introduces, “This is your new boss.” signalling to Crips than to you. Cripps spits in his gloved hand and sticks it out.

“Pleased to meet ya’ partner.” He greets, awaiting a handshake. He acted significantly more down-to-earth compared to both Mrs. LeClerk and Mr. Horley; though their intentions were the same. You take his hand wearily, trying to keep the grip as weak as possible. Though, Cripps grabs your hand firmly and shakes it, finally letting go as you quietly wipe your hand on your pants. Glad you had gloves on. “Cripps at yer’ service.”

“Pleased to meet you, Cripps.” You introduce yourself, nodding of acknowledgment at the welcoming man.

Horley steps in, “We’ll pay to get your camp established. Mrs. LeClerk is a generous benefactor.” He relays.

“Good to know— thank you.” You smile, grateful for the three of them taking you in and helping you back on your feet. Even if it was only for the unfortunate situation.

“And, uh— where we headin’?” Cripps queries, handing over a slightly stained map to you.

Unrolling the map, you peer at the options. But one area catches your eye before any other place on that map. A secluded area in Cholla Springs, New Austin. Just west of Lake Don Julio and South of Armadillo. It just so happened to also be on the border of Rio Bravo, where you grew up. You also happened to camp there before, when you were all over New Austin just before you got sent to Sisika. Fencing horses, accidentally getting into gunfights when you were caught pickpocketing, the whole lot; you camped out there. It was like home.

You place your finger west of Lake Don Julio on the the map. “How about here?” You suggest, looking up at the two of them.

“You like the desert I see.” Cripps jokes, nodding his head to the location.

You grin back, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “Grew up there, course’, it’s like my home.” Closing the map and handing it back to Cripps.

“Oh, and, uh, madam. While Cripps is establishing your camp… perhaps you could go to the station and see the clerk. Then head to see Clay Davies.” Horley advices. “He’s a horse thief—“

Clay Davies. How could you ever forget. You sold horses to them frequently since they were convenient. But god, they were unreasonable. Always knowing that you couldn’t sell anywhere else and getting the most sleaziest of deals from the two twins. Goddamn bastards.

“Yeah… I know the guy. Not a particularly nice one.” You respond, resting your hands on your hips as you are reminded of him. Your face ever so slightly sour, shaking your head.

“I see you already know him well.” Horley states, pausing for a second before starting again. “Then meet Cripps back at your camp.” He glances at you, then at Cripps. Finishing his directions.

“See ya’ shortly, boss.” Cripps signs off, saluting his hand as he walks away, swiftly getting to work. You nod him off as Horley wishes you good luck. And you’ll surely need it.

꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓆈 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ

How did you get here.

You sigh as silently as possible to yourself, clutching your old cattleman revolver, hiding behind a large rock lodged in the sandy dirt. A camp is before you— only a few feet away behind that rock you’re posted behind; housing a gang which you were sent by a post office clerk to take down as your first job.

The post office clerk’s name was Alden, a pretty shady fellow; you couldn’t tell if he was law abiding or not. But, he did tell you to murder a whole gang in Gaptooth Ridge because they’ve been causing trouble by stealing the post office’s stagecoaches. So, he isn’t particularly the most righteous clerk you’ve met. Though, the mission was for a good cause, and a fair amount of money too. Still, not really all that ethical. But— since when were you ethical?

He was definitely a strange one. Said something about not confiding with woman, but you seemed alright so he didn’t make a fuss. It’s not like killing was a gendered job anyway. Pretty alright guy except for that; gave you a handheld copy of the latest catalog. The shiny blue, Wheeler and Rawson cover was sure something to your eyes that were always used to dirt and weathered whatnot.

Nevertheless, you need to focus. Taking out a whole gang by yourself wasn’t going to be easy. Specially since you were pretty rusty since your last gunfight. That in account, you decided to go in stealthily— instead of all ‘guns a blazing’ like a crazed harlot in a saloon.

You peep your eyes out to the side of the rock, sandy dust particles floating in the air and hazing your vision. Most of the gang was around a put out campfire, some also walk around and doing chores. You manage to peer clearly at a gang member walking off to a somewhat secluded spot at a dense shrub. Pulling his fly down and revealing himself. The perfect kill presenting itself fresh on a platter for you.

Taking a deep breath of arid air in, you pull out your knife in a swift motion from your gun belt, the motion emitting a small ‘shing’ whilst you slowly creep out your hiding spot, crouching ever so slightly towards him. You were now inches behind him, and you weren’t going to wait and find out when he’s going to finish and turn around. Wrapping your arms hastily around his neck and muffling his mouth, feeling him struggle against your body as you shank him in the neck, turning limp; falling to the ground with the smallest thud masked by the sandy dirt below. You had to move fast now before they saw the body of their accomplice’s.

You briskly move behind a supply wagon, peaking over the corner and seeing a gang member walking around with a sack in his hands. Seemingly walking straight for the wagon you were covering your position at. They all just keep falling into place.

He makes his way around, you spring out and make the same work on him. The wheat sack falling on top of the body as he falls over with another thud. Two down, three more to go. The three left were spread out, though two of them were in the open and could spot each other and you if you tried anything sneaky. You decide to go for the last one that was isolated, behind the other wagon on the other side of the camp. But, this was a pretty open plain in the desert. There was no way for you to get to the other side without being spotted clear as day by the other two.

There was one way possible though. Another large rock sat behind a gang member who was just standing there. If you somehow were able to go around him behind that rock and go around again, you could be golden. But, it was a slim chance.

You go for it, upholstering your Cattleman just in case you were spotted and things got out of hand. Holding your breath, your heart was pounding hard. A bead of sweat ran down your forehead— whether that was the blistering hot weather or your nervousness, you couldn’t tell. You book it. Gritting your teeth and crouch-running your way in the open, praying to whatever god in the sky that you weren’t spotted. But, I guess those prayers didn’t reach as high as you hoped.

“Hey! Intruder!” The gang member roared, whipping around and equipping his pistol from his gun belt with earned practice, aiming straight for you. The other guy yelled something incoherent, both their voice hostile as the other one behind the wagon you originally went for, pops out and shouts a curse you couldn’t hear over the gunshots. Gunshots. Great.

The prayers did reach high enough for the first shots not to hit you, as you practically roll back behind that same rock and began shooting. God, you haven’t felt this in a while. This rush. The adrenaline coursing through your veins as your eyes narrow in, slamming the hammer of the revolver down and pulling the warm, metal trigger each time with a satisfying bang. Feeling the machinery recoil against your palm, a body shooting back in pain, the bullet you fire piercing through their chest as they fall to the ground with a shot. That’s one down, two to go.

You grunt, reloading your revolver you stupidly forgot to reload at the start. Before sticking your gun out again and aiming, your eyes narrowing in and firing straight into the enemy’s head, the body falling to its knees and flopping face first into the dirt. Pretty fine shot for being rusty.

Pulling the hammer down, you grit your teeth even harder than before, cursing as you pull the trigger, pointed at the last guy’s skull. “Bastards—“ you swear through gritted teeth, biting the inside of your lower lip as the bullet goes racing into the last one’s head with a final bang.

You pant, the adrenaline and your heart’s beats become slower, calming to a manageable pace. Holstering your revolver and getting up from your crouched position behind that rock, dusting your knees and walking into the middle of the camp. Glancing around at the place, before looting a few tonics and provisions from a table.

Unexpectedly, you hear a voice stutter out from a tent to your left, tucking the loot away into your satchel and stepping cautiously towards the tent, upholstering your revolver once more and wearily aim it towards the moving flaps.

“Okay… okay… you’re good…” The stray gang member steps out the tent with his hands up in front of him. His tone cautious with a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Don’t try anything funny.” You menace, glaring at the last remaining guy— unless there’s other cowards left in the other tents you don’t know of. You gesture the barrel of your gun to his body as he continues making small moments out the tent; his hands still not reaching.

“Y-you’re real good, friend.” He stutters, cautious and trying his best not to get shot like his friends. “Here— take this… it’s a map… just… be kind… don’t kill me, please?” He practically begs, slowly but steadily pulling out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.

You raise an eyebrow, you weren’t cold blooded. And you definitely weren’t going to kill this man who doesn’t want to kill you— even though that’s what Alden instructed. Killing a man begging for this life is wrong, it takes a different level of heartlessness that you do not possess. You’re not evil. You promised yourself that.

Lowering the gun, you place it back into your holster and snatch the paper from the man’s hand. “What is this? Map for what?” You demand firmly, tucking it in your back pocket and crossing your arms in front of you.

“It’s— it’s a treasure map… just… thank you!” The last bandit shouts with a strange mix of thankfulness, fear, and relief. Running off to who knows where. Just far away from you— you suppose.

You just shake your head and scoff softly out of disbelief, setting your hands on your hips and turning around. Gazing at the scene around you. Your eyes are drawn to the golden sun now transitioning into a warm orange, ever so gently beginning to set on the vast lands of New Austin. A large eagle flies overhead, sawing through the clear skies and towards the horizon. The arid air kissing your face as you let out a long sigh.

This will be a long one. A long what? Who knows. But this, this will be a journey— a long one.

꣑ৎ ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ 𓅃 ⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓⌓ ꣑ৎ

THANK YOU FOR READINGGG !! i hope the writing in this wasn’t too boring 😭 im honestly surprising myself with how much i written so it might not be amazing quality (especially since i wrote most of it at 3am) but i hope you still managed to enjoy ❤️❤️

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