#took out those same spurs only to have the same fate befall you at the hands the same team you had beaten in the finals the year before

[slamrink]

The Sisyphean Allegory Plays Basketball Tomorrow! 🔥

[strwxberrymilk]

“Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”

Pairing: Werewolf John Marston x Reader

Word count: 3,362

Happy Valentine’s day! Here’s my fic for the always lovely @littlestarofthewest from the @rdrsecretcupid2020 event!! You said you liked tropes and mythical creatures, so I hope you like confessions of love and werewolves!! 

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Summer winds danced through the trees, their sunlit branches trembling, gently moved by the warm breeze. Crickets began chirping along with songbirds as the sun sank over the heartlands, calling sweetly to the coming dusk. Creamy wisps of clouds delicately kissed the horizon, beckoning forth a warm glow over the lands, coating cliffs, and wildflowers in its radiance. The Dakota River was turned into liquid gold and the meadows seemed less like grass and more like twenty-four-carat threads waltzing in place. The campsite basked in the golden hour, hushed if only for a moment, by the setting sun. She sat there on an old fallen log, journaling and taking in the half-light of day. The breeze swirled through her hair and onto sun-kissed skin as she tucked wild strands behind her ear. Her pencil scraped purposefully at the paper, marking down her fleeting thoughts as the day came to an end.

Tonight would be the first full moon since she had been bitten those weeks ago. The freezing dampness of Colter was testing in itself, but with the hapless attack from an O’driscoll scout, the journey was frightful. She had been on guard duty when the beast came from the trees, roaring madly, sending spittle flying through the cold air, and clamping its razor-filled maw around her throat. Luckily, the men came just in time, hurdled into action from the sound of the beast- shooting the creature dead and getting the girl inside. There was no mistaking her fate then. In fact, most of the people who ran with the Van Der Linde gang were all too familiar with the curse that would soon befall the young woman, having to deal with it themselves as well. She healed quickly from the wounds, biding her time until the moon would finally rise, uncovered and full. And it seemed that a night full of firsts would arise with the setting sun.

He watched her sitting on that log, basking in her radiance, starry-eyed and captivated by the way that the light caressed her skin and how the dust in the air danced a halo around her. How he longed to be the sunlight on her skin, craving to be sweetly buried in those locks, holding her to him, with full dominion over her body and affections. She was to be his, and his alone- it was what he ached for, what he needed in order to feel whole again. Since the day they met, John Marston had an eye for the lady. Much to Dutch and Hosea’s chagrin, John had immediately imprinted upon her the second their gazes met. This bond that had suddenly drawn the two together held a more significant meaning than john had known at first, only recognizing that she was his destiny after a talk with Hosea. The girl was clueless, however. Merely thinking that the young man just enjoyed her company some. Maybe he thought of her as a sister that needed his protection or a damsel in need of saving- because in her mind, surely this tall, dark, and villainously handsome man couldn’t feel the same way about her. So, she pushed down these hot and blooming fantasies of romance every time she spent a moment with John.

The girl shut her journal with an inward sigh, slouching, resting her elbows on her knees. Her eyes fluttered shut with a long exhale, worried about the night to come. John was leaned against a nearby tree, watching, spell-bound by her entirety, and just how gorgeous she looked. He pushed off of the rough bark when he saw the clear anxiety in her posture, spurs clinking as he headed towards her. “Evening miss (___),” he called, stopping to stand next to the log. The girl snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes weary and thoughtful. “Oh, hello John,” She quickly looked back at the landscape, feeling her cheeks heat up under his gaze. “What’re you up to?” The question hardly squeaked out from her lips as she nervously played with her pencil, refusing to meet his eyes. John huffed, bringing his hands to rest on his gun belt, turning to watch as the sun made its final descent behind the distant mountains. “Well I noticed you looked worried, so I came to see how you were,” He glanced at her in his periphery, “-Since I know it’s gonna be your first night is all.” He added quickly, mumbling slightly, shaking his head. The girl sighed, swallowing her feelings once more and turned to face him completely in her seat, “Hah, well you’re right. I am really worried John. I-I mean I’ve never gone through anything like this before, especially not alone.” Nervously laughing she continued, “I really am frightened.” John moved to sit beside her, resting with one elbow on his thigh. She could now see his face fully, handsomely drenched in the afterglow of twilight, black wisps falling into his eyes. His lips were pulled into a tight line and his brows furrowed, “(___), I’m gonna be honest with you. It’s not easy. In reality, it will be painful, and damn difficult. It was, even for me.” He placed a heavy hand onto her smaller ones, squeezing slightly in re-assurance, “But you’re a strong, fine woman. You’ll manage just fine I’m sure.” John grinned a toothy smile and chuckled as the young woman laughed as well. “Thank you, John, I- uh- That means a lot to me.” She glanced down before finding herself lost in those coal brown eyes, staring longingly at his scars, tracing down his face and to his lips. A soft sort of tension ebbed between them and through the beginning night, making their silence quite awkward. Noticing this, John cleared his throat and spoke up, “Say, why don’t we go grab some dinner and get you settled?” He stood up and held out a hand to the girl. Smiling sweetly, she took his hand and walked with him back to the center of camp.

They sat together at a table and ate their stew, chatting about things other than their lycanthropy. After dinner, John and the girl rested around the campfire with the rest of the gang, all more quiet than usual out of respect for the girl’s first moon, and by Dutch’s orders. It was easy for them to empathize with her since all first turns are involuntary and happen no matter what, on the first full moon after one is bitten. After a wolf’s first moon, they are free to choose when to turn or not, voluntarily shifting at will, not tied to their beastly form when those bright nights come. After a while, the girl grew more exhausted, feeling hot under the rays of the rising moon, and asked john to bid her goodnight. He walked her back to her own tent, re-assuring her that everything will be alright and that she should try to sleep and get some rest while she can. With a kiss to her delicate hand, He wished her a peaceful first moon. The girl heaved and entered her tent. As the flaps closed behind her, the girl began to undress. She was sweating already, and her clothing clung to her, nearly drenched. Being left in just her drawers and chemise the girl lied down onto her bedroll, panting, exhausted and growing more agitated as time went on.

She slept for a short while as the camp around her calmed to a hush and only embers sizzled where the roaring fire once sat. The moon rose higher into the night sky, stars twinkling sporadically in the deep black depths. Crickets stopped their singing and no rabbit even dared to exit its burrow; the earth knew that it was time. With a gasp, she woke, suddenly and painfully- her skin burned with heat and her chest ached. Pure instinct ran through her veins, as she lifted herself from the ground, stumbling out of the tent and into camp. Nobody was out now, all stowed away, sleeping soundly in their bedrolls. She wheezed as her feet carried her out into the forest. Her heart began to race, every time she waltzed into a patch of moonlight, promptly carrying her faster downhill. Her skin felt like it was on fire, searing deep into her bones, making her cry out in pain. Her yells were the only sound that echoed in the trees, becoming more erratic and desperate as she stumbled towards a clearing in her moon-drunk stupor. All she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears as she cleared the tree line. Stepping into the moonlight sent waves of chills down her skin, cooling the heat that ached her. The pure ecstasy that direct moonlight poured into her was indescribable. She whimpered as pain overtook her short-lived pleasure, breath hitching as she hunched over. Her entire body was trembling severely, and tears welled in her eyes. Bones began to shift and crack horridly as she writhed in pain, screaming out into the night air. Her once soft and manicured hands grew into large wolf-like paws with long unmanaged claws hanging atop. Her spine elongated and ruptured, stretching and pulling. Her chest moved in the opposite direction, ripping through her underclothes, leaving her bare. The girl’s legs grew longer and bent wildly, breaking and contorting into those akin to a canine. Her bare feet morphed into large paws, making her stumble, catching herself on the ground with her arms. The girl’s once petite frame was now hulking and covered in thick fur. The worst pain was in her face and jaw, cracking and relocating, making her shriek in pain. The moon was at its peak now, casting its midnight rays below into the valley and onto the girl. Her screams turned to beastly roars as the shifting came to its end. Whimpering and writhing in the dewy grass she looked up to the moon. This final action, a gesture of submission and connection sent a rush of primal strength into her. She rose now, standing tall and greeted the moon with a hauntingly beautiful howl. She sang away the pain, tilting her head back and flattening her ears. This is how she was supposed to feel. To be liberated by the moon’s benevolent grasp.

John bolted awake in his tent. He heard her song so clearly, even in his sleep, calling to him. This siren song beckoned him fourth, setting his heart on fire. He threw himself out of his tent, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He knew that the bond that nature had secured between them would call to him eventually, but just how quickly and wholly instinct took over was jarring to him. He scented the air, nostrils flaring, and pupils blown, searching for the girl- his girl. His lanky form bounded through the forest floor, stomping over thickets through the underbrush. Most times he was confident in his will to keep from turning when exposed to the moon’s rays, but when his ears pricked at the again enchanting howl that sang from the she-wolf, her scent drifting back up the hill, he felt his continence slip from his grasp. Stumbling forward he growled as his own beastly form began to manifest, shifting from man to wolf. His once slim torso now broad and coated in inky black fur, heaved deeply as he tried to regain some sort of restraint. With his senses, now heightened, he could feel the girl close by. His massive paws padded quietly as he stalked through the underbrush, head swiveling and ears twitching, looking for an indicator of her location. nose to the wind, his stride came to a stop as the tree line thinned into a clearing. The moment his eyes found her, gaining her bearings in the meadow, he felt more human as a wolf than he ever had before. She stood gazing upwards, her fur sparkling in the moon’s rays, tail waving slightly under her long, muscular legs. A fire sparked in his loins, churning butterflies in his gut- feet carrying him out into the open air to meet her.

She hadn’t noticed him approach, focus fixated on the night sky. His steps broke the silence, causing her to snap her attention to him. The girl wasn’t used to her new senses, nose scrunching as she took in his scent, it was unfamiliar yet known, something she remembered but now dripping in musk. Fear swam down her spine, hackles raised, and ears pinned snarling a warning to the dark-furred male. She backed up slightly, tucking her tail, crouching defensively. The male was shocked, not knowing why she didn’t recognize him. He let out a small sound between a whimper and a bark, ears lying flat submissively, stepping forward. Shadows uncovered the wolf as he slinked forward into the moonlight, head hanging low and eyes locked onto hers. The deep scars that cut into his fur were now visible in the misty silver rays and his eyes, stark red against midnight brows, pierced like a beacon through the air and into her. Her ears flicked forward in question, head bobbing backward. This night could not get any weirder, she thought, she had expected her first moon to be strange, yes, but she knew that face; It couldn’t be anyone but john. She let him approach, stepping closer herself, calling out a quiet whimper in question to the male, ‘john?’ The larger canine broke from his submissive stance, bouncing slightly and happy to be recognized by the she-wolf. His tail began to wag rapidly, and he grinned, ‘I’m here (___), it’s me.’ Along with her demeanor, the tension broke and she sprang forward, closing the gap between them and tackled John to the ground. She laughed in relief, ‘Man am I glad to see you! I don’t know what I would’ve done if some other folks had found me so quick!’ She pressed the bridge of her muzzle to his chin and breathed in a deep whiff of his scent, which became clear to her in recognition of the man whom she pined over. John grunted, out of wind from the sudden hug, and chuckled, ‘well you did look like you were ‘bout to kill me right there. If I ain’t know you, I would’ve tucked tail and ran, you sure showed like a seasoned wolf already.’ The girl rolled off of him, reaching her feet and cocked her head to one side. ‘What’d you mean ‘if I ain’t know you?’ How did you know it was me, not like anyone’s seen me turned before?’ Her brows were furrowed, and she gazed around as if to look for anyone else there with them. ‘well,’ John said, standing up, ‘I could smell you, but really it was that beautiful call of yours. I knew that nobody else could sing so sweetly to me-‘ He stopped suddenly. The words falling out of his mouth far too quickly. John wasn’t quite how to tell her how strongly he felt, but damn he knew it needed to be more romantic than word vomit. John huffed, ‘Anyways, let’s get you back home. Or at least closer to camp. folks around here ain’t used to seeing things like us.’ He gestured back to the tree line and placed a paw at the small of her back. She sent him a smile, her eyes, soft, gleaming gold in the moon’s light. They started into the forest, side by side. ‘And while we walk, I could explain some more things that you’ll start to experience? Having had your first moon and all.’ He questioned, looking down at the girl. Humming, she answered, ‘That sounds wonderful, thank you, John.’

Through the night, the two young werewolves padded through trees and over thickets, conversing quietly. He described his first moon to the girl, and how he learned all he knew from Dutch. How scents work, how to track prey as a wolf, how ranking works. The moon was sinking low now, barely kissing the tops of distant trees. The wind settled into a slow breeze as the caterwauling crickets hushed to a whisper, and twinkling stars began to fade. It was when they got onto the topic of packs and ranking that imprinting came up.  The two stopped just outside of camp. John’s throat was dry as he described the ‘at first sight’ bond that takes place between destined mates. He stated that, ‘It feels like when you’re apart from them, that you’re suffocating.’ The girl was quiet for a long moment before asking, ‘And that you would give the world just to hold them? for even one second?’ She refused to look at him, worried that if she did, he’d know exactly what her question was. John took in a deep breath before exhaling, ‘I never knew how I should tell you this. But I think right now is as good as tomorrow and as any day. (___) from the second I met you all that time ago, I knew that you were meant to belong to me.’ He took the girl’s smaller paws into his and gave them a gentle squeeze, eyes lingering on her face, taking in her ethereal beauty. Even as a wolf, he thought she was the image of perfection itself. The girl was shocked, mouth hanging open. Her head shook as she looked up to meet his eyes. ‘are you toying with me, John Marston?’ Her eyes welled up with tears. In her mind, there was no way that this man, who treated her with such chivalry, who was so handsome, fiercely loyal, and genuine could feel the same way about her that she does of him. John’s eyes looked worried as he pulled her into his chest, claws raking through her soft fur. ‘I always questioned it or dismissed it, but tonight- when I heard you howl- it just solidified it to me.’ He breathed deeply, looking down and stroking her cheek, ‘We are meant to be with one another, (___). We’re supposed the be mates.’ The girl lifted her head from his broad, inky chest and grasped onto the hand that remained on her furred cheek. he stammered mouth opening and closing before finally admitting, ‘I love you.’ She choked out a sigh of relief before returning his confession, ‘I love you too.’ He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers, holding each other tightly in the dying moonlight. His next words were those of ancient origin, that was said between every pair of courting wolves, symbolic and true in meaning. ‘I vow to protect you, love you, provide for you in any way that I can.’ He whispered to her, earnestly. The girl smiled before answering, ‘I vow to serve you, comfort you, and provide for you in any way that I can.’

The pair pulled away from one another as the beginning signs of day spread along the land. ‘we should get you inside before you turn back. You’re gonna be exhausted- just like I was after my first moon.’ John called, taking her hand in his own. In the east, the sun peeked from behind the horizon and songbirds sang to the coming light. The sky was yellow and blue, beckoning day to come once more. The new couple, giddy and spry, traipsed paw in paw into the awakening camp. The only other souls awake at that early hour were Dutch and Arthur, who sat just outside Dutch’s tent, drinking their coffee and talking quietly. They snapped their heads in the direction of the two wolves that came into view. Dutch smiled touched and knowing while Arthur grinned and nodded before taking another sip of his hot coffee. The girl yawned as she carefully entered her tent, John following close behind. She lied down atop the furs and blankets on the floor, tail wrapping around her bent legs, and beckoned John to do the same. ‘Stay with me?’ she asked, humming quietly. He curled up beside her, holding the girl close to his chest, laying his head down just above hers. ‘Always (___), always.’

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I apologize that i couldn’t get this posted sooner! This weekend was chaotic and i couldn’t get to my laptop. I really hope you enjoyed it, I’m a fairly inexperienced writer and this was my first insert fic. I know it doesn’t live up to your god-like writing skills but I gave it a shot anyways! 

Have an amazing week sugarplum!! <3