#Female Bell!Reader

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter One - The Blue Crayon 

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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Reader cries, first meeting jitters, brief talks of Bucky’s ‘old life’, mainly fluff 

Word Count - 1,836

Note - Releasing this is really scary, and nerve wracking. I'm worried people will hate my new writing style, or won't enjoy the slight changes to the plot/pace/overall creation. Please know that this means a lot to me, and has really given me back a piece of me I thought I lost. Enjoy, and I hope you love this as much as I do <3

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★ Prologue ★ 

After years of feeling out of place no matter where he went, and feeling like he didn’t belong no matter what he did to fit in, Bucky took a trip to a Cafe he remembered from his old days in Brooklyn. 

The interior looked the same as it had decades ago, the soft blue and green diner furniture was in pristine shape. The metal of the counter looked slightly more scratched and worn, but the whole place had the same feel it did when he first walked in years ago. 

While most cafes offered the same types of coffee and treats, none of them were anything like Cafe BigNSmall. Instead of being on a busy street open to just anyone, it was hidden away from prying eyes on a calm street, and was catered towards Littles and Caregivers. 

It was founded before Bucky was even born, a group of people looking for a place to meet up comfortably, but also create a safe space for other Littles and Caregivers that might also be in need of a community. 

Bucky had stumbled his way into a conversation years ago about Littles and Caregivers, at first he didn’t understand what the conversation was about, but after asking a few questions and being given the address to the hardly known, yet also famous, cafe his whole idea around the topic changed. And after a few visits with his best friend by his side the two of them realised that the community they had accidentally found was one they fit perfectly into. 

Bucky half expected the well hidden cafe to be gone, or at least moved to a different location after all these years, but as he walked along the familiar sidewalk and stopped in front of the building he used to visit weekly, a warm feeling spread along his chest. The feeling of finally finding someplace he knew, and some place that knew him, was the best feeling he had felt in a while. 

Even the ding of the welcome bell was the same, the coffee just as good as he remembered it, and the crunch of the leather covered diner booth sounded just as he had remembered it. 

The feeling of sitting at a table alone though was new, his days spent here were always spent with Steve and other people they had met along the way. But now he sat in his favourite booth with a bag full of activities, and a heart in need of a purpose. He realised that even though the building had stayed the same, he hadn’t. 

Weeks went by as he watched groups of Littles and Caregivers sit around tables and talk, colour, and laugh. He understood why people avoided him, if they knew who he was they had reason to walk away, and even if they didn’t know him as ‘The Winter Soldier” he was still dressed head to toe in black, stood at times a foot above everyone else, and always had an easily read as angry expression plastered on his face. 

It had been a month before anyone talked to him, and although he wished that he could have felt included sooner, he was happy that Y/n was the first person he met, even if it took weeks of waiting. 

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The sun was shining brightly through the wall of windows, Bucky’s booth drowning in light, the small plant that sat with a basket full of sugar and cream was no doubt enjoying the nice weather. 

Bucky’s coat sat next to him, his phone buzzing from time to time though he ignored it. Instead of calling Steve back, or making sure Sam didn’t need something he surveyed the room, making sure all exits were secure, and danger wasn’t present. 

He, in a way, had given up the idea that he would meet a Little, or even a friend, but decided that in the absence of someone he would spend his time as - unwanted, and unneeded, as well as unofficial - security for those who spent their days here with friends. 

As his eyes drifted to make sure his car parked on a side street was still in tack he heard a small shuffle next to him, then a small voice spoke. “Um, Mr?” He turned his head to see a girl with tear marks down her face staring at him. Her green shirt’s sleeves covered in wiped tears, her overalls slightly off her one shoulder. 

Bucky just stared at her for a second, waiting for her to fizzle away and reveal herself as a dream, or run in fear when she saw his face, but she didn’t. “Hi.” He cleared his throat, trying his best to put on a neutral tone and facial expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked, shuffling in his seat slightly, his nerves evident. 

“My, um.” Her left hand covered in her sleeve came back up to her face, rubbing her eye before she continued. “My crayon broke.” The girls lower lip wobbled now, bringing up what must have happened clearly causing her distress. “The nice cash lady said you, you migh’ have some crayons?” Her voiced lowered to a whisper now. 

Bucky smiled, the warmth he felt when he first stepped inside a month ago finally coming back. His backpack was filled with Little friendly activities and supplies for this reason exactly. “I do.” He answered, unzipping his backpack and pulling out his carton of 96 crayons. “What colour do you need, Bub?” The nickname slipped out on accident, but the girl in front of him didn’t seem to notice, too awe struck by the box of crayons in front of him. 

She sniffled before answering. “I need blue.” She said with a little more confidence. “Hold on.” She whispered, jogging back to what Bucky assumed was her table. “This one, please.” She pulled out two halves of a blue crayon from her box. Her crayon box was smaller than Bucky’s, only a handful of crayons inside, unlike his though her’s had a small sticker on it that read “Y/n.” 

“Y/n?” He asked, the girl snapping her head to him, her eyes wide. Bucky tapped the sticker on her box, Y/n flipping it over and realising how he now knew her name. “There’s too many blue crayons in this box to know what one you want.” He said, hoping it didn’t come off mean or like he was showing off his ‘better’ supplies. “Why don’t you take the box back to your table and use any of the crayons I have for the day.” He offers, hoping that his generosity could help earn Y/n’s trust over time. 

“Can I jus’ sit here?” Y/n asked, her hands fiddling with the box in her hands. 

“You want to sit here?” Bucky parrots her words back to her, hardly believing that she would want to sit with him. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay.” Her lower lip began to wobble again as she took a step back. “Unless, I’m sorry, I can go.” She said quickly, clearly taking Bucky’s surprise as anger. 

“You can sit here.” Bucky’s words were also spoken quickly, worried if he didn’t say anything right away she would run from him. “No one’s wanted to sit with me yet, I’m just surprised.” Y/n nodded her head and put her small box down on the table before walking back to hers. 

In a minute she had gathered all her things and made her way back to Bucky, her backpack now sitting on the other seat. “You sure that I can sit here?” Bucky noticed her slight change in speech, a clear sign of further regression. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He smiled, Y/n sitting down but still holding her colouring book to her chest, her back straight as a pin. “I’m glad you came over.” He says in hopes to reassure her he wants her here. “It’s nice to have a friend.” Y/n smiles at that, placing her book down, showing a half done colouring page. 

“I agree, bein’ lonely is sad.” She frowns. “Do you wanna colour with me?” Her tone is hopeful, looking at Bucky with a smile. 

“I’d love to.” He smiled back, pushing his coffee to the side and accepting the page Y/n tore out for him. The two of them colouring their respective pages in silence for an hour before Y/n sat up straight with the biggest smile Bucky had seen so far. 

“Done!” She practically yelled. Bucky had been done for a while now, adding his own doodles around the actual lines of the drawing. “Look.” She slides the book towards him, a coloured picture of a princess and her wildlife friends surrounding her staring back up at him. 

“This is really good, Bub.” Bucky coos, surprised at her ability to stay mainly in the lines of the original lines. 

“You can keep it.” She quickly squiggles something on the bottom, Bucky assuming it’s her form of a signature. 

“Thank y-” His words are cut off by the shrill of an alarm, Y/n digging her phone out of her backpack to turn it off, frowning as she places the phone on the table. 

“I have to go home now.” She frowns as she starts to pack up her bag, pausing to turn to Bucky. “Will you, can you.” She stumbles over her words. “Are you coming here tomorrow?” She eventually asks, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s. 

“Are you?” He counter asks. 

“Yes.” 

“Then I’ll be here tomorrow.” She smiles and finally looks at him. 

Y/n spends a few more minutes packing up her things before she stands. “Thank you Mr.” She holds her hand out for a handshake, Bucky’s back straightening as he realises he’ll have to shake her hand with his left. Instead of doing so he grabs her left hand with his right and shakes that one, her giggles worth the awkward situation. “Bye Mr.” She says, turning to leave, but Bucky keeps a hold of her hand. 

“Why don’t you keep these?” He says, pushing the box of crayons closer to her near the edge of the table. 

“Borrow them?” She asks. 

“No, I want you to keep them.” He nudges them her way a little more. “I think you’ll get much more use out of them than I ever would.” He smiles as he watches her’s grow bigger. Picking them up she does a little jump, her backpack jingling as she does. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She spins before whispering a ‘thank you’. 

Before Bucky could say goodbye, or ask for her phone number, she had already walked out of the building, walking down the sidewalk looking at the box of crayons in awe. The broken blue crayon still sat on the table, he smiled, picking it up and placing it in his pocket. The small thing a reminder of the best day he’s had in a long time. 

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #bucky #bucky x little!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes age regression #bucky barnes x little!reader #little fic

[harrywavycurly]

Idea for Eddie and southern!reader

“Babe can you go get the new weed eater out of the back of my truck?”

And it’s a baby goat

-CJ @cheesewritings

Hiii babes!! This made me laugh so hard because I once upon a time tried to fit a baby cow in my backseat, so I hope you enjoy this and I did it as texts because that’s just what popped in my head!💖

-find all things Eddie and his southern belle here✨

#southern texts #Eddie Munson x southern!reader #Eddie Munson x southern belle #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x wife!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson #my little dungeon master baby #stranger things au #boyfriend!eddie munson

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

What if Y/N and the Monkey King's met their future sons/daughters.

I'm gonna have (Y/N) As her snow white monkey form if that's okay with you.

(Lmk Wukong) He was napping when he was tackle to wake up by various voices. He look to see two monkey boys with white fur with gold eyes and a little orange monkey girl with blue eyes. They were all talking at the same time so he couldn't understand a word they said. But they do look familiar especially their smiles. They ones he rarely gets from his rather Grouchy Wife. Then his guess was confirm when you got back from the market and him with 3 monkey Cubs. They soon run to you and overwelm you with their little voices. Wukong has never been so blessed before and he hopes their more to come.

(MK Reborn Wukong) Those kids have to be one of the biggest demon brats on the planet. You meet them on your mountain when Wukong came by today. They were little angels to you mainly because you can kick their ass if they weren't. Their was a boy and a girl monkey they say your supposed to have another in a month or so and that shocked you. Wukong wasn't having it he refuse to believe them and mostly wanted to know where the hell did they come from. Until his daughter blamed her brother for their situation and now they're beating the snot out of each other. As Wukong tries to break it up you can't help but daydream about your future With your Two Feral kids and you're just as feral husband.

(HIB Wukong) His kids make him so tired. First of all this tells him that he Managed to get that close to you and get married have children with you. Now those said children are here trying to help him get with you in order to protect their family. His 3 Sons We're surprised to see how savage you can be, but his youngest and only daughter knew you like the back of her paw😏She knows you like him but are not sure how to approach him so she goes and talks to you herself. With the children's help you guys have a proper date and find that you have more in common then you think Misson Accomplished.

(Nezha Reborn wukong) Oh my god, oh my god, There is so many😨 why is there so Freaking many of you?! If it wasn't for the mask you will notice How much his eye is twitching. From what he heard these are his kids from the future after Accidentally getting sent back in time. Their was 5 boys and 2 Girls and apparently their was another one that hasn't been boen yet. He looks at you and you respond with that you always wanted a big family. He sort of wants to blame you. But his youngest daughter points out that he has no self control so that went out the window. All he can do now is sit and listen to the conversations As he feels his fur turn grayer than ever.

(Netflix Wukong) He has never been so happy in his life. Looking at all the small monkey cubs that is supposedly his family. His 2 Sons tell him that your supposed to have 2 daughters in the Winter so that's gonna be exciting. You were always unsure if you would ever be a good mother. But the cubs praises made you feel better and Wukong loved you more then ever now 🥰🥰🥰

Feel Free to Reblog😇👍

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #parenting #Wedding bells #murder husbands #female led husband #x female y/n #x wife reader #girlboss x malewife

[holylulusworld]

Deranged Marriage (13) - Wedding bells - FIN

Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x (Mafia daughter)! Reader

Warnings: language, strong/bratty reader, banter, sexual tension, enemies to lovers, still idiots in love, mentions of mafia business, implied smut, nakedness, fluff

Deranged Marriage masterlist

<< Part 12

“It’s a beautiful day, and I just fucked my bride,” Bucky singsongs as you watch him waltz around the bedroom. He gives you a wink. “Get up, doll. We are going to marry today.”

“Bucky, it’s too early to fuck with me,” you grumble. “I wanna sleep some more. Don’t think only as I allowed you to lick my pussy last night that you are forgiven.”

“Get. Out. Of. The. Bed.” Bucky points his index finger at you. “I’m not joking. We wasted enough time planning this wedding and hunting our enemies down. I want to make you mine officially too. Everyone must know your cute ass belongs to James Buchanan Barnes.”

“You mean your ass belongs to me,” you point out, and bury your face back into the pillow. “Now move your ass back here and sleep some more. I won’t marry you in your birth suit. I don’t even have a dress yet.”

“Aw, my grumpy dollface believes she’s in charge. Cute.” Bucky suddenly slaps your ass. You squeak and try to scramble away. “Get out of bed, Y/N. I won’t tell you again. Don’t make me wait.”

“I need a dress and a stylist. We didn’t send invitations. What kind of wedding shall this be, Barnes?”

“A shotgun wedding,” Bucky replies without missing a beat. “We will jump into my car, drive to Vegas and have the wedding you wanted.”

“Uh-I wanted a nice wedding, asshat. I won’t marry you without a dress, cake and all the shit mothers want for their daughters.” You sit up on the bed to glare at Bucky. “If you don’t give me a romantic wedding, you’ll never have sex with me in this century again.”

He smirks.

“I mean it, Bucky.”

He grabs the blanket and drags it off your body to his hungry eyes. Bucky licks his lips, and hums as you try to cover your modesty.

“Bucky,” you grunt. “I’m not joking. I want it all. The dress, cake, guests, a shit ton of flowers.”

“If you get up, we can talk about your dream wedding,” he pokes your naked ass with his index finger. “Come on, doll. I swear, you’ll love my surprise.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t like surprises. Not when it comes to you.”

“You’ll love that one.” He snickers. “Don’t you trust your beloved fiancé?”

“No.” 

“Y/N, trust me. You don’t want me to drag you out of bed today,” Bucky warns. “You won’t walk straight for a week when I get my hands on you this morning.”

You lick your lips. Is it worth it to rile Bucky up some more? “Come and get me. I want to see you put your hands on me while my daddy is around.”

“Remember, you asked for this.”

Bucky lunges forward. He tries to grab your ankles, but you are halfway out of bed before he gets the chance to touch you. You giggle and jump off the bed.

“Y/N!” He chases you around the bedroom, laughing as you are still stark naked. “You need to put clothes on!”

“Why?” you look over your shoulder. “Last night you didn’t mind seeing me naked. I won’t put clothes on.”

“Easy access,” he purrs, eyes dropping toward your crotch. “How about I give you another beard burn before I drag your naked ass out of the bedroom to show your daddy what a bad girl you are.”

Considering his offer, you look at Bucky’s mouth. He darts his tongue out, making you shudder as you remember how he went down on you last night.

“I want a real wedding, Bucky. Not some shotgun shit.” You pout. “If you want me to be yours, give me something to remember…”

It took Bucky two hours, his mouth, and three orgasms he pressed out of you to convince you to leave the bedroom.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispers in your ear. “No cheating.”

“Bucky, I swear if you try to trick me, I won’t suck your dick ever again,” you grumble.

Bucky insisted on putting a blindfold around your eyes. He let you down the stairs, and now you are standing in the entrance hall, feeling like a fool.

“Babe, please don’t talk about sex now,” Bucky whispers in your ear. “I want to survive our wedding day.”

Bucky removes the blindfold and pecks your cheek. 

You blink a few times as your father hands you two first-class tickets. “Daddy?”

“If you stay here for your wedding, all of our enemies will try to attack you,” your father says. “Bucky and I decided that you will have the wedding you always dreamed of. A wild wedding.”

“What do you mean, Daddy?” 

“I want for you what I never had.” He gives you a sad smile. “Safety and a normal life. I will rule this empire with a strong hand. And if you decide to take it over one day, it’s yours. If not, I’m happy for you.”

“Daddy,” you swallow thickly, “I don’t want normal or safety. All I want is to be the ruthless bitch I am. You know that I can take down any enemy. I’m not some housewife.”

“Y/N,” your father wants to argue but you hold up your hand. 

“No. I won’t leave my home, or you. We will have a fucking huge wedding, and” you smirk darkly, “if someone tries to kill me on my wedding day, they will regret their birth.”

You turn around to fist Bucky’s jacket, making him smirk. “And you will help me with all the preparations. We start with buying the perfect dress.”

Bucky laughs when you bring him down for a messy kiss. “All for you, my queen…”

In the coming weeks, Bucky will help you prepare for the perfect wedding. 

Two months later, your father will lead you down the aisle…

If he ever retires, your father knows you are going to rule his empire like the queen you are…

THE END...

Tags in reblog.

#Deranged Marriage (13) - Wedding bells - FIN #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #mafia au

[rehfan]

La Belle Dame avec Merci - Chapter 2: Keeping Up Appearances

Eddie Munson x Unpopular!AFAB!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only please - minor children DNI! – No Upsidedown; SLOW BURN; Eddie & Reader are both over 18; fake dating/relationship; reader is technically a virgin; mutual pining; Eddie has trust issues; emotional hurt/comfort; masturbation; emotional manipulation; reader is kinda shitty to Eddie; reader gets better; angst; more angst; Eddie’s mom is dead; small act of accidental physical violence; Uncle Wayne is the best

Tagged: @bluestuesday / @ali-r3n / @winchester-angel / @iletmytittiestitty-russ / <— let me know if you want to be added!!

DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER SITE. My words are mine and mine alone.

Inspired by @/hard-candy-writing ‘s ORIGINAL POST — I sincerely hope I do this justice.

Chapter 1 Tumblr Link -- AO3 LINK — Masterlist link

Eddie was still in a state of shock until the second bell rang and he was officially late for English class. He crept in and sat near the back, your kiss still tingling on his lips, your thighs still in his hands, the weight of you in his lap causing other things to wake up. His knee thrummed under the desk and he could barely pay attention to the creative writing assignment that Mr. Hutchinson was talking about. It was all he could do to try and think of serious things to calm his dick down: accidentally slamming his fingers in the van door, Wayne chewing him out about cigarette burns in the carpet, things like that. The last thing he wanted was to pop a boner during class.

Please, dear God, not here.

The next campaign, buying more guitar strings for Sweetheart, slamming his fingers in the van’s door - again. Any thought he could manage that had nothing to do with the taste of your watermelon Chapstick would be a good thing right now. Because he should definitely not be focusing on how you smelled and whether that was your shampoo or your soap or a perfume you used. Yep. For sure should not be dwelling on what underwear you had on underneath that prim skirt with the slit all the way up it.

Fuck.

He was going to see you again in biology. That was in forty-five minutes. Would you want to sit in his lap again? How could you? You were whole lab tables apart from one another. There was no way to move seats without it being a big deal. Jeff would feel abandoned and who was it? Gail? Gail who shared the lab table with you would probably be put out. But then, he may not even have to worry. It was highly likely that you’d freeze him out. After all, that little display was just improv for the party/jock crowd in the library. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the score.

Sighing deeply, he decided to write a story about an errant knight who had been seduced and charmed and then completely dumped by some woodland fairy.

Was he really going to allow you to run the show, though? To push him this way and that just to satisfy your own strategies? He didn’t want to be used. Not like his uncle’s last girlfriend had used Wayne. Not like his father had used his mother.

He changed the ending of his story. The knight was under a spell. It was broken when he saw her true reflection in the water of the lake. That wasn’t a woodland fairy. That was a witch who wanted him as a blood sacrifice. He threw her in the water and she fizzled, melted, and drowned, screaming in agony. He’d be damned if some deceitful witch was going to get the best of him, no matter how attractive.

~080~

Meanwhile, you sat in your French class, your head swimming with thoughts of brown eyes and curly hair. The scent of him clung to the edges of your brain, a blend of smoke and spice, mixed with the smell of his shampoo.

Well this was inconvenient. You really needed to pass Madame’s pop quiz or you’d ruin your perfect A grade for the semester so far. 90 percent or better or you were a loser. No compromise. You tried your damnedest to focus on the correct past tense conjugation of rêver without focusing on its ironic meaning; all your brain wanted to do was dream.

Those brown eyes… you had never in your life gone for a guy with dark eyes. You had always been a sucker for crystalline blue eyes and maybe some dark lashes, like Brian Bloom has or blond with blue-eyes like John Schneider. Eddie Munson was unlike either man. Not that you were holding your breath about meeting either Brian or John in your lifetime. But Eddie was just SO NOT your type and his sudden presence in your awareness was jarring.

What the hell had you done?

You finished your quiz, but re-read it just in case. Walking it to the front to drop it on the teacher’s desk only to sit back down and sigh, you felt every inch the tragic figure just waiting for class to end. You had probably fucked yourself over. There were only ten questions. You knew you probably screwed up more than one. Boys were clearly nothing but a distraction and here was your proof.

The bell rang again and you gathered your things only to stop in mid-motion at the realization that it was biology next. Would he expect more of the same? You sure as hell left him with a good indication that you were expecting to see him again. See you in biology, lover. Ugh. You cringed at the words.

Maria walked down the corridor with you speaking French like she always did when class was over. It was as if she thought the extra three minutes between classes was supposed to increase her knowledge of the language or something. Internally, you rolled your eyes, but kept smiling at your friend, replying in short answers. Jesus. You weren’t even kind to your actual friends. Who were you?

As you made your way down the hall, some of the kids were staring at you strangely. There was giggling as you passed a gaggle of preppie girls. Word was spreading. It hadn’t reached everyone yet, however. Maria would have pulled you into an empty classroom along the way just to interrogate you. No, it wasn’t everywhere. But it was building. You could feel it, thick in the air, like forest fire smoke. Like the cigarettes you had smelled on Eddie.

Fuck.

Get your head on straight!

Locker first, then class. You were almost late. That wasn’t like you, which showed how reticent you were to actually get to class. If you had the guts, you probably would have skipped. But you were as faithful as a bird dog; you couldn’t be devious. Not to a teacher, anyhow.

The class was almost full with kids coming in around you as you made your way to your normal lab bench. Gail wasn’t there. Was she sick today? You looked to the door in a blind panic for her. If that seat was empty, Eddie could sit there. Or worse: one of the jocks or party kids.

The teacher walked in. The door was going to close. Still no Gail.

“Uh, let’s break it up back there and get to work,” called Mr. Harris. You looked behind you to see Eddie and Jeff standing on either side of Gail who looked like she just lost an argument. You saw her nod at Eddie and take something from his hand. Eddie just grinned and snatched up his book and notebook.

You didn’t know if you were happy or sad, sick or well, dead or alive when Eddie Munson - with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face - plopped his things and himself right down beside you. He folded his arms on the lab table top and put his head down, face angled toward you.

“Hey, lover,’ he said, his voice a low rumble.

Why was there suddenly no air in the room?

Fucking hell. Get a grip!

Somewhere you found the fortitude to banter back. “Hey, cuddle-puppy,” you cooed sardonically, miraculously sounding like a human person with actual confidence. But you had to remind him that this wasn’t really real. Or were you just reminding yourself as his brown eyes melted you from the inside? “How’s my favorite co-conspirator?”

Eddie snickered a laugh. It was born of a nervousness he felt just sitting next to you. Jesus, he just called you ‘lover’! It was a bold move, even for him, but he had to show you he wasn’t scared of you. And when you called him a co-conspirator, that built a knot in his stomach he couldn’t explain. You wanted to continue this? Really? The knot turned sour. He didn’t need you or your lame-ass attempt at calling the cool kids’ bluff. Didn’t matter how pretty you were.

Mr. Harris cleared his throat and started the lesson. Today, you were dissecting frogs. But before you could begin, he had to make sure all of you turned in your permission slips. Eddie reached into his jacket inner pocket and drew his out, opening it up and waiting for Mr. Harris to come around. You noticed the signature.

“Your dad’s name is Wayne?” You were just making conversation. No harm meant by it. Still, you saw Eddie pause and side-eye you, clearly judging you and how best to answer.

Finally he said: “Uncle, actually.”

“Why didn’t your mom sign it?” Again, it was a natural enough question. Your mother had signed your slip and you had turned it in last week. Maybe his parents didn’t want him dissecting frogs and he had to go to another relative for assistance. You didn’t know. How were you supposed to? Eddie Munson was a stranger, really.

“She couldn’t,” he said as Harris took his slip from his fingers. “She’s too busy.”

“Busy? What does she do?”

“She’s the opposite of a helicopter parent.”

“Huh?”

“She took off when I was nine,” he said, watching for your reaction. Watching for the reaction that everyone gave him when they found out about his mom leaving him high and dry. And then dying. Of course, he could have just told you that she was dead, but plenty of people knew that: the school, the cops, Wayne. But no one knew that she died while running away from a man who used to beat the shit out of her. Died because of him chasing her in his car in the middle of winter. Died because she was brave enough to break away and just fucking run. But she couldn’t outrun a Buick. Wayne said she had had plans of coming back for Eddie, but that was a more complicated situation and too big a subject to cover just before the beginning of class.

“Oh.” 

And there it was: the look Eddie was so familiar with. The wide eyes, raised eyebrows of a person who couldn’t fathom that a mother could abandon their child. A certain satisfied cruelty settled inside him. His history with his mother was none of your business. This would keep you away from her, and therefore away from him.

“I’m so sorry about that, Eddie.”

And there was the predictable follow up: pity. Sad mournfulness for the poor orphaned boy whose mommy left him all alone. He nodded and continued to quietly regard you. He was watching you, observing like a scientist, distant and evaluating.

To break the awkwardness, you began: “But what about-“ You didn’t finish. You didn’t want to ask any more. His face was placid, but his eyes were still boring into you. You didn’t have the will to continue. Besides, class was starting and you had to pay attention. Prep trays and equipment were being passed around the class by Mr. Harris as well as some hand-picked students and you wanted to make sure you got what you were supposed to for the lesson. 

“But what about what?” Eddie prompted you. He was curious but cautious. Was this the witch plotting to spot weakness? He put up his mental defenses and waited.

“No, it’s none of my business. Sorry,” you said.

He leveled his gaze at you for another millisecond. Okay. Maybe you were still the fairy princess. He reached into his mental bag of holding and wielded the shield of humorous deflection and the cudgel of bravery. “Hey now, if we’re going to be co-conspirators, we’ve got to do a little soul-bearing, cupcake.” He tilted his head toward you briefly. “Go on, fire away.”

“What about your dad?” you asked, meekly. The next words poured from you and you felt yourself falling over yourself to navigate the situation and not make him angry. “Or am I getting too personal? I don’t mean to. Sorry if I am. I��m just curious. You can totally tell me to shut up now.” You could feel the blush creep up your ears.

Eddie smiled and ducked his head, cupping a hand to the back of his neck to hide it from you. God, you really were adorable. What in the everloving fuck was Eddie going to do with that?

“My dad couldn’t sign the permission slip because he’s busy being a guest of our fair state,” he said. He took in your puzzled look and whispered, smiling, “He’s in jail, babe. For a long long time.”

“So you live with your Uncle Wayne,” you concluded.

“Boy, you really are as smart as they say,” he said, his tone almost truly proud. Almost. That grin was back and you gave one back at him. Eddie liked that grin. He liked it a lot. 

The dead frog was the last thing to be deposited on your wax tray. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, removing his jacket and draping it on his stool before being seated once more. He pulled up his three-quarter sleeves to the elbow.

Tattoos. He has tattoos. You were NOT ready for tattoos. Jesus fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck. You wanted to lick them. And then you remembered where you were.

“See something you like, sugar?”

“What? No! No. Just- I’ve never seen a kid our age with tattoos. That’s all.” The blush you felt pinking your skin could be seen from space. You were sure of it. Jesus.

He leaned in again to talk to you. It seemed he always leaned in when he thought he had something clever to say; it was annoying and alluring at the same time. “Well I do have a few more years on all of the children here,” he said, “or don’t you remember that about me?”

You did. You just… forgot. Something about that niggled in your brain. “Wait. If you’re well over the age of consent, why did you even have to get a permission slip signed?”

He tilted his head. He had to admit, that was a really good question. But he shrugged and countered: “Why did you? Aren’t you eighteen already?”

“Huh, true,” you said. “Maybe it’s a school thing.” you shrugged back at him.

“Heh. Looks like the Establishment has managed to brainwash us already.” He shook his shaggy head. “Well, I feel foolish.”

You had to smile at that. “You are very anti-establishment, aren’t you?”

“You really are getting to know me, huh darlin’?”

“Well,” you replied, whispering conspiratorially again, “what kind of a fake lover would I be if I didn’t get to know my pookie-kins?”

He looked at you with a comically critical face. “I don’t know about you. You may be too smart for me. I usually go for the empty-headed bimbo types.”

“Ah yes… like a jock, only a girl? Body by Jake, brain by Mattel?” you asked. His eyebrows raised and he let out a laugh, short and sharp.

Mr. Harris cleared his throat. “If I may begin?” he asked. The lesson started. Eddie handed you the scalpel with a wink.

You twirled a finger in your hair and looked comically puzzled. “The pointy end goes in the frog, right?” you asked him, giving him your best bimbo impression. Eddie couldn’t help himself; he giggled. He actually fucking giggled. He knew there was more to your game. There had to be. He couldn’t ignore his instincts. But he also knew that you were funny. And smart. And beautiful. And funny, smart, and beautiful totally worked for him.

Fuck.

#fanfic #writing #joe quinn #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #joseph quinn #la belle dame avec merci #lbdam #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #slow burn

[irisinthemoon]

Until I Found You Pt. 1

[Pt. 1], [Pt. 2], [Pt. 3], [Pt. 4], [Pt. 5], [Pt. 6]

Since the event had came out, I had seen nothing but Yandere content of Rollo. Now, don't get me wrong, I like it but I also wanted to balance it out by adding in fluff and healthy relationships. Yes, this will have spoilers from the event, so beware. And while it is based on the event, there are some things I changed in order to make it fit better with the story line, so some will be my own creation. The Reader is not Yuu, she is her own person and have no connection to NRC. Thank you and please do read on!

Warning: Reader is hinted to have family issues, Reader is female, she is 18 years old since I am assuming Rollo is the same age considering that he is a third year and I wanted them to be around the same age range. This will be a series, but I am not sure in how long I will make it, probably all the way to Book 7 of the game. Two Oc's will be presented as the vice-president and secretary. Also, this is unedited, you may find grammar mistakes, hopefully not to many.

Characters: Rollo Flamm, Eliott Dupont (Vice-president), Jules Monet (secretary)

Summery: Being transported to a different world had not been part of [Name’s] plans, but neither was it to stay in it, yet here we are. She isn't complaining though, not when she has Rollo Flamm as company.

______________________________________________________________

Above into the horizon, you could just make out the first rays of sunlight kissing the night sky goodbye. The rays casted a warm and golden blanket around you, making you feel the warmth of the new day. This was how you started off your days in Noble Bell College, it was the only thing that you could consider normal in your terms. Even after being stuck in Twisted Wonderland for three months, you could not get used to the magic the city provided, or how their world was so different from yours. Sure, there had been similarities that brought you comfort, such as the sunrise you were witnessing. The sun’s warm rays kissed your cold skin gently, some of the heat bouncing off the golden bell that was behind you. 

The Bell of Salvation, it had been something you had stared in amazement the first time you saw it, even more when it rang and its magic swept the entire city in its protective embrace. While you may not be used to the magic of this world quite yet, you found comfort by just being in its presence. It was as if you had some connection to it, but you reasoned that it was mainly because it had been the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. 

Bringing the thin blanket closer to your body, you sigh. Even if this world was so much different than your old one, you didn’t mind it. It’s not like you lost much in your old world. Family or friends were nonexistent to you before coming to NBC. There would be no one to grieve you or to look for you, not that your parents would put the effort into it. You wouldn’t be surprised if they just named you an unsolved missing persons case. At this, you chuckles, who would have thought you would end up like that?

Not that it bothered you, on the contrary, it brought you amusement. You always thought you would go out in a normal and boring way. Maybe die of old age, maybe you could fall down some stairs and break your neck, or you could be run over by a moving vehicle. Those were things you were prepared to expect, but not jumping into another dimension. That was for story books, fictional worlds that blended in with the worn out pages of your favorite books. 

You tug on a loose piece of threat in your uniform, mind deep in thought. You had thought about finding a way home when you learned about your situation. And it had kept you somewhat motivated for a while before realizing that you were just wasting your time. It hadn’t hit you until last night as you poured over a book from the school’s library. Why were you even trying so hard to return back? Sure, it was the world you were born into, the one you belonged in. But, there were no sentimental attachments that made you want to go back quickly. You were an only child, your parents often left you alone while they traveled for work, and you didn’t have friends as you preferred the silence that accompanied you since birth.

Looking at the worn out notebook that the student president gave you for your personal notes, you sigh once more. Should you just tell the headmage that you wish to stay? The staff at school were helping you find a way home, and since you had no desire to continue the search, it would be better to stop them. You didn’t want to waste their time for something you don't even want.  But if you do stay, where would you go? 

You were a magicless person, just because you were suddenly transported into a magical world didn’t mean you got some magical powers. Not that you wanted magic, you would have no clue what to do with it. But back to the original point, you wouldn’t be able to stay at NBC as it was a school for future mages, there was no place for you in this school. You could stay in the City of Flowers as it was the only place you were actually familiar with, but then there was the situation of where you would live and how you would be able to earn money for yourself. 

You were lucky the school was the one taking care of your expenses as they had to make themselves responsible for you. Still, the majority of the reason the school was paying for you was because of the student president. You had lost count in how many times the older boy had helped you. From tutoring you so you could keep up with your classes to showing you around the city so you wouldn’t feel lost. 

And while you do appreciate his help and efforts, you couldn’t help but feel like he was putting you at arm's length. 

Rollo Flamm, student council president, honors student and roll model was an enigma to you. Ever since he found you underneath the Bell of Salvation, he had made it his personal mission to make sure you were comfortable and that you would be able to process the fact that you didn’t even exist in this world. He had been there every step of the way for the last three months, to which you truly were thankful. 

Without him, you would have been just as lost as you had been when you woke up. But no matter how much you tried to thank him, Rollo simply told you that it was his duty to protect those vulnerable and that if he could help, he would. You couldn’t help but feel like there was something more to it. However, it was none of your business, so you let it be.

Even if you wish to get to know the white haired boy more. 

Flipping one of the pages of your notebook, you read the messy handwriting. Some of it was readable, other parts not so much. Flipping to the next page, you pause at a small drawing you had done not so long ago. It was just some flowers, nothing too specific, but one always caught your attention. 

One that you couldn’t help but always draw in red ink.

Soft footsteps along with the creaking of the old wooden stairs snapped you out of your thoughts. Closing the journal and placing it inside your student robes, you cross your legs and wait for the familiar voice that always manages to ground you. The footsteps reach towards the latch, you hear the soft huff Rollo makes before the creak of the latch door greets you. 

“Good morning [name].” 

With a smile, you turn around and greet him. “Morning president, how are you this fine morning?” Your voice was carried by the gentle wind, causing it to bounce off the walls of the bell tower. Rollo gives you an unamused look, one that you had grown fond of. To others, it would have looked like he was irritated but you pride yourself in the fact that you could read people like one of your books.

“I’m quite fine, I see that you are the same as always.” Taking a seat in one of the chairs at the corner of the room, Rollo pulls out the familiar basket that you had come used to seeing. Standing up from the edge of the bell tower, you make your way towards the boy and take a seat across from him. You watch him in silence as he pulls out two loaves of bread, some cheese that is wrapped neatly in plastic, some fruit in a container, and finally, freshly made orange juice.  

Your eyes followed his hands as he divided the food equally. It was something they had ever since you came to NBC. You adored moments like these ones, it allowed you to spend more time with the boy before your classes began. Plus, even if you did manage to find time to see him, he was mostly busy with his duties as a student. Especially now that the Masquerade that he was planning was close.

Still, you were glad he made time for you. 

“Thank you for the meal.” You said softly, waiting for him to finish setting his own food. The first bite was always heaven on earth. Holding in a moan at the heavenly taste of the bread (which you knew he makes himself no matter how much he denies it), and chewing it slowly in order to fully appreciate his efforts. Rollo keeps a close eye on you, not that you notice much as your full attention was on the bread in your hands. 

Next, you opened the cheese carefully, knowing how much Rollo didn’t like making a mess of the food. Especially when it was in the bell tower he adored. With a plastic knife inside the basket, you cut off four thin slices, two for you and two for the boy. With a small mumble of thanks, Rollo adds it to his bread, you followed his steps. 

Another set of heavenly tastes explode in your mouth with the addition of the goat cheese (which you also knew he made). Both of you ate in silence, only the sound of the birds waking up along with the ruffling of leaves accompanied the both of you. You liked these mornings, even if they were quiet and Rollo didn’t speak much. To you it was perfect.

Finishing the rest of the food along with the orange juice, you clean your fingers off with a napkin offered by the white haired boy. And just like the other mornings before this one, you get to clean alongside him. The peaceful quiet and the morning air put you in good spirits, especially when you share them with him. 

“How have your studies been coming along?” The question makes you pause as you wipe the table from leftover crumbs. “They have been well for the most part. I managed to understand the material from last class thanks to you.” Smiling at him, you continue to clean your space. “That's good, if you ever need my assistance, don’t hesitate to reach me.”

You hum in agreement, warmth spreading in your chest. “And you?” You already know what his grades are. After all, Rollo is the top student in the academy and the student council president. You know he is smart, but it doesn't hurt to ask in return. “Same as always.” And his response is short as ever. 

Looking at him while he busied himself packing away the utensils you used, you let yourself really look at him. His skin looked pale as ever, but it wasn’t as if it was unhealthy. Even with his paleness, he still had a healthy glow. However, when you looked into his eyes, you noticed how his eyebags seemed darker. At this you frown, was he getting enough sleep? 

Knowing him, he was probably getting the bare minimum of rest. 

Suddenly, his green eyes glance up at you. “Have you been getting sleep?” You asked. Rollo merely huffs as he always does whenever you ask a question that seems meaningless to even ask. “I have, why do you ask?” You raised an unimpress eyebrow at him. “Because I know the Masquerade you have been planning is next week, I know you want the students from the other schools to have a good time. Adding on to the fact that you still have to keep up with your other responsibilities.”

Instead of calling him out on his bullshit, you simply hid your worry and asked him about the Masquerade as an excuse to ask him about his health. As you had made note about it earlier, Rollo is an enigma that keeps you at arms length. While he spends time with you, he doesn't bother getting to know you or lets you ask any questions regarding him other than ones related to school work. Still, you made it work somehow, even when it still left you more curious about him. 

“The Masquerade is going on as planned…” Rollo paused for a moment, his face gaining that familiar scowl he seems to always wear when something irritates him. “However, the costumes I had ordered for our guests won’t make it on time.” 

“Why is that?”

“The student incharge of sending the request apparently forgot to do the actual sending.” Rollo sighs with an eye roll. “And now it’s too late to send the request.” His green eyes shone in the morning sunlight, allowing you to see just how pretty they were even with the anger swimming in them. To you they will always be as breathtaking as the first time you laid your eyes on them. “And then there is the matter of sending out the final invitations and finalizing the number of rooms we will spare for NRC and RSA students.” 

You watched carefully in how he began to pace in the small room in the bell tower. His black shoes made a sharp click-clack with each step he took. The red transparent sash-like on his hat swaying along with him. The rays of the sun just made his sharp features stand out even more, truly, no painting or picture would do him justice. 

You let Rollo rant even when he says he doesn't need to rant about his responsibilities. The sound of his voice soothes you, you liked the sound of his voice. Even when he talked about studies of your classes you shared, you truly didn’t care what the topic was about as long as you could hear him speak. 

“I can help you if you want.”

Startle, Rollo turns to look at you with those piercing green eyes. He blinks a few times, letting your words process in his head. “Help me?” He asked after a few seconds of silence. You nod your head, a smile on your lips. “I can help you with all three things if you want.” Rollo blinks again, the anger in his green eyes softening into a hidden amusement. “Will you be able to balance it out with your school work?”

You let out a small giggle, “Hey now, I know I may not have that fancy magic that students have here. But I am pretty capable of dealing with things such as invitations, reserving rooms for guests staying over for a couple of days, and designing costumes.” 

An unreadable emotion crossed Rollo’s eyes, the soft, hidden amusement vanished as the familiar anger took over. “You don’t need magic.” The bitterness in his tone startled you. While you were used to hearing him sound annoyed or angry, not once did you hear that kind of tone. Nor have you ever seen his eyes burn with so much distaste. “The students in this school along with the ones coming here all rely on magic like fools. Even with simple things such as writing or cooking, they always need the assistance of magic.” He turns to face the wall, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips before covering it with his purple handkerchief. 

You stare at him, uncertainty pooling in your gut. You had known Rollo had something against magic, even when he was a magic user himself. He didn’t voice it, but you could see it in the way he hardly used it unless it was necessary such as his classes or homework. And when he spoke of magic, he tended to avoid the conversation, even when Eliott and Jules, his vice-president and secretary, praised him for learning a difficult spell or told you of his unique magic. Rollo never once bragged about his magic. 

He simply covered the lower half of his face with a handkerchief and looked the other way.

You wanted to ask him about it, but never did. You could see and feel how that was a can of worms that Rollo was not going to open with anyone, less alone someone he just met. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to even open that can of worms, not if it meant pushing him or losing that little trust you work hard to earn from him. 

Instead, you did what you were best at.

“Well yeah, but I didn’t mean that I was useless without it. I just meant that I know how to do those kinds of things since back home, I used to help my parents with stuff like that.” Coming from a rich family meant making events to put the family in a good light. Which made you responsible for helping with invitations and booking rooms for the guests that would come along. 

“Writing invitations and making last minute bookings are no problem for me. As for the costumes, I can make them! I’ve done that before!” The anger in Rollo’s eyes dimmed, “...Will it interfere with your school work?” You shake your head, “Nope, I finished everything ahead of time since I wanted to have the day free for the Masquerade.” A light blush covered your cheeks. You didn’t mention that the reason you wanted that day free was because you wanted to spend it with him.

“You mentioned that you had experience with it, how come?” Glad that Rollo was no longer angry, you begin explaining. “Well, my family is kinda like a big name in the fame industry. My mom is an actress while my dad is a singer. Both tend to throw parties every couple of months, so I get stuck with making invitations and bookings for the people invited. It’s not hard for me to find good places for them to stay in and I know how to handle clothing situations.” 

The lord only knows how much you struggled to get used to it. Even at a young age, your parents’ fame was suffocating. Everything you did was being watched by hundreds of eyes, not once did you have a moment for yourself. You couldn’t go to school like most kids your age, and homeschooling wasn’t as exciting. That was many of the reasons you liked it here in the City of Flowers. 

No one knew who you were, no one to target you because of your parents, no heavy responsibilities other than doing school work, and being able to hang out with classmates and friends. It was all you could wish for, and from what you could tell, friends help each other. And you wanted to help Rollo, sure, the moody french-man hasn’t called you a friend, but you could tell by his actions that he did like you, maybe tolerated you at best.

Plus, back then, the things you did bored you to death. You didn’t have much of a choice in doing them and your parents never asked you if you wanted to do them. They figured that it would be easier to give them to someone who wouldn’t be able to say no when their assistants were flooded with work. And it's not like you could use school work as an excuse to not do it.

Rollo looks deep in thought, his purple handkerchief no longer covering his face. “Hey, it’s fine if you don’t want me to do it. I mean, it’s a big celebration, one that I heard is done yearly. Plus, NRC and RSA students are being invited for the first time, things need to be perfect.” Fiddling with your fingers, you looked away, missing the soft look Rollo gave you.

“It’s fine, I trust in your abilities. However, are you sure you want to also take over the costumes?” By the time you looked back at him, Rollo was back into wearing his poker face. “Sure! I have done some before when I needed to wear something.” And it was the only thing you could do that made your parents proud. A fashion designer from the great [Last Name} family. 

“Just give me their measurements and I should be fine.” You added before the negative thoughts took over. Instead, you stand up and walk towards him, a carefree smile on your lips. “How hard can it be? I am sure it’s only a couple of people.” And just as he has done since you started your stay here, Rollo offers his left elbow. “Ever the gentleman.” Intertwining your elbow with his, both of you make your to the latch.

Rollo huffs in amusement as he opens it and lets you go first. He follows you after he closes the latch and once again offers his elbow to you. Taking it again, the two students make their way down the stairs and into the entrance of the bell tower. Humming a small tune under your breath, you finally let out the smile you had been trying to hide. 

Just as both of you walked down the flower path to your first class, the familiar chime of the Bell of Salvation rings. Warm and gentle magic washes over you like the summer breeze making you sigh in content. Rollo hums, a calm expression on his face. 

“Very well then, I will let you help me. We only need to send one more invitation as I took care of the others. For bookings, the students from NRC and RSA are to stay on campus in the left wing of the school, the rest of the guests will be staying in different hotels offered by the city.” You nod along, mentally memorizing the important details. 

“The list of guest will be sent to you by Jules, you will sort them out into rooms based on their importance.” By the time he finished explaining the way the booking process was going to work, the both of you had arrived at your first period. Students were already flooding the halls, some talking to friends, others trying to do some last studying before their quizzes or tests. 

Letting go of his arm, Rollo turns to face you, a small, barely there, smirk on his face. “As for the costumes, we will need a total of 13 for NRC students and 2 for RSA. With all of them combined, there will be a total of 15 costumes needed by the second to last day of the Masquerade as the actual ball will be held that day.” His smirk grew a little bigger once he saw your wide eyed expression.

“Worry not [name], I will make sure you have help along the process. We will also be purchasing the material you will need, so don’t be afraid to request more if you need to.” Opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish, you could simply stare at him in shock. “F-Fifteen?!”

Now, you may pride yourself in designing clothes of any kind, but there has to be a limit! You couldn’t possibly do 15 costumes in one week! Rollo holds his purple handkerchief up to his face, his shoulders shaking as he looks at you with amusement. “I jest, some of the students from the fashion club managed to do most of the costumes. Unfortunately, they got flooded with other requests from the city and were unable to start the last one”

At this, you relax, but smile nonetheless. It was rare when Rollo allowed himself to joke around. “Great seven, you had me scared for a moment.” Poking his chest with your index finger, you laughed. “But I can definitely help with the last one! Just give me the measurements along with a reference picture of the person who will wear it.”

Rollo nods, then pauses. “Picture…?” You nod with a small hum. “Yeah, I need to see how they look like in order to make the costume in their aesthetic. Plus, I need to be able to see which colors will fit them best.” Rollo frowns, a bitter resentment flashes in his green eyes. “...Very well,” Glancing at the clock hanging by the classroom entrance, he mumbles under his breath. 

“Just come to the council room once classes are over. I will tell you what you need to do in better detail.” Before you could question him in his sudden change in mood, Rollo gave you a head pat, bidded you goodbye, and turned to take his leave. “Um! S-See you at lunch!” You had spoken before even thinking. Some of the lingering students gave you a glance in confusion. Rollo turned around, huffed, then nodded. 

“Yes, see you at lunch [name].”

You took that as your cue to enter your classroom. Taking your usual seat at the back of the class, you sigh. Contrary to what many said about Rollo, he was very expressive. Not in the physical way, but his eyes always let out what he was feeling at the moment. He wasn’t always like this though, back when you had met him, Rollo was hard to read. It was thanks to him getting somewhat close to you that you managed to read him like a book. 

And even then, there were certain emotions you couldn’t decipher when it came to him. Still, it was progress, and who knows, maybe you will be able to get closer to him now that you will also be helping with the Masquared’s preparations. 

With a delighted hum, you prepared your material for class. 

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst rollo #twst rollo x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst masquerade #rollo flamm x reader #glorious masquerade #noble bell college #female reader

[monsterbeetlebug]

Never steal from Micah Bell

Fem reader

Tw: mentions of guns, violence, fire, blood, sexual tension.

Tilly came running into camp. She was full of panic. Eyes vide and out of breath. She started screaming that you had been kidnapped by a gang. They had been after all of you for some time. They managed to get their hands on you wanting to get info on where the Van der Linde gang was residing. Everyone dropped their stuff and came running to Tilly. Asking of everything she knew. Miss Grimshaw took her away to clean her up as the fellers started talking. Dutch, Hosea and Arthur was scrambling about to gather their stuff. They quickly turned around when they heard the sound of hoves racing away. They all stood frozen looking confused between each other as Micah raced away. He had never shown any interest or care to save anyone but himself. Micah rodes as fast as he could. Rage was fueling him. The reflection of the sunset was like flames in his eyes. There was no mercy to be shown. Nobody who steals from Micah Bell had a life ahead of them. His laugh erupted. He felt like he would go insane if anything happened to you. "Ain't no one stealin from me who gets to stay alive."

You were locked in a small shed. Left in the dark small room. They had roughed you up a bit trying to get you to speak. Your head hanging down as you focused on sounds outside. You had shot up as you heard an all too familiar laugh and yelling. Micah! The cold bastard actually cared enough about you to come and save you. "I'm going to burn this place to the ground! Time to meet with your maker boys!" His maniacal laughter came through as you heard glass breaking and shots fired. You could see the slight glow of fire from outside. There was screaming and gunshots all around.

Then suddenly, it fell silent. No talking. No footsteps. Only the crackling of fire growing. You feared the worst. Then, the door of the shed swung open. Your eyes widened, and relief filled you. There before you stood Micah. The glow and sparks from the fire wild behind him. The dark silhouette was disturbingly impressive. His eyes felt cold and dark. Blood was splattered across him. Luckily, it wasn't his own. You jolted up and ran towards him. You hugged yourself around his neck. He hugged back and patted you back. "You came for me, you cold bastard, you actually came." Micah let out a soft chuckle as you pulled apart. He looked at you with eyes that told more than his words. "Couldn't let them get away with stealing the only thing I care more for than my guns." You felt a tingling sensation go through you at his words. You hugged him tighter with your head under his chin. Smiling to yourself hearing those words. That evil asshole actually has some feelings beneath is vile exterior. Something he would never show to anyone else, especially not back at camp. He couldn't let them know he actually had a heart. He would never hear the end of it if they found out he was a human after all.

Micah grinned to himself feeling how close you held onto him. He held you just as thight back. Feeling relaxed knowing you where safe with him again. He slowly slid his hand down your back to place it on your butt. Softly squeezing. You felt a cribling inside. A warm feeling that was building. He placed a kiss on your head before he moved to kiss at your neck. He let out a hum of appreciation. Your breath got heavy as you closed your eyes. You could feel him grow harder against your stomach. He pulled away and placed a kiss on your forehead. A soft smirk visibleas he spoke. "C'mon, let's get you out of here, we'll finish this later doll."

He gave you a pat on your butt as he helped you up on his horse. Then suddenly you heard a stampede of hoves arriving. It was all the fellers from camp. Arriving just as you were about to leave this place. They saw you sat on top of Baylock like a trophy. All safe and content. Your cheeks stilled flushed red from Micah's actions. They looked at the burning camp behind you. Half the place was burned already, and things had begun falling down. Arthur looked angry at Micah. "What tha hell, Micah?! Was it really necessary to burn the place?" Micah led his horse towards them with a prideful saunter. His sleazy grin taking it's usual form. He leaned a bit back and put his hands out to his sides, exaggerating his words. "You're late to the show boys. Everything's dealt with, and I've saved our dear damsel in distress. But I didn't take you for a slow guy in a rescue Cowpoke, or should I say slowpoke instead?" Micah mocked Arthur as he passed by everyone. You couldn't help but find it funny. You tried your best to hide it so Arthur wouldn't get more upset than he already was.

Micah eventually hopped up behind you. Making sure you were sat close to him. You could feel his still hard member pressed up against your back. Making sure you could feel how much he craved you. As Baylock started trotting away and back home, he put a secure hand on your thigh. Stroking at your inner thigh. It made your warm tingle feel like a flame stared inside. Melting you closer to him. He needed to feel you to know you where there. That you where safe within his hand. He had a grin on his lips. With a rough but loving voice he spoke. "Let's get you home and taken care of princess."

#micah bell x reader #micah bell #Micah bell x femreader #rdr2 #rdr2 micah #rdr2 fluff #rdr2 smut #fluff #soft smut #short smut #x female reader #fem reader #x fem!reader #fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction

[sleepingdeath-light]

seeing their s/o’s scars hcs ; multiple princesses

requested by ; micheleamidalajedi (02/05/23)

fandom(s) ; disney animated films

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; belle, mulan, pocahontas, rapunzel, tiana

outline ; “Can I have headcanons of Rapunzel, Pocahontas, Tiana, Belle, and Mulan seeing Fem reader's scars (From abuse and or battle of some kind) and kissing them?”

warning(s) ; references to scarring on the reader’s body, ambiguous origin of injuries

Belle

her reaction mostly depends on how fresh your scars are

if they’re more recent and still in the process of healing, then she’ll take a warm wet rag and clean them before doing anything else

if they’re older and fully healed then she’ll mostly leave them be in that regard

she’ll run her fingertips along the highs and lows of your wounds, her touch as light as a feather as she huns thoughtfully

then, after a while, she’ll stop and bring her knuckles up to her lips and kiss them — looking into your eyes and smiling sweetly before moving to kiss each and every one she can

she doesn’t ask of their origin, she trusts that you’ll tell her if/when you’re ready, but she’ll treat them gently and will comfort you if that’s what you need of her

Mulan

her first instinct upon noticing your scars is to grab and inspect them, making sure that they healed well and aren’t causing you any pain

her inquiries also mirrors this as she tries to ensure that you’re okay

if you want to tell her how you got them, then she’s all ears and will listen intently to your story

if they’re from a battle of some sort, then she’ll show you her own war wounds and compare them — pointing to each one and sharing its storey (only embellishing sometimes)

if they were brought on by your own deliberate actions or the abuse of another person in your life, then she’ll offer you whatever comfort she can give

her voice is gentle and soft and calm as she reassures you and squashes your worries

and her touch is gentle and exploratory as she traces the ridges of each wound

then she’ll press her lips against the largest one she can see and promise that she’ll protect you — be that from yourself or from those around you — because that is what a partner does

Pocahontas

she probably noticed your scars before you thought to mention them, having inspected them and their progress as they healed over the course of your relationship

so when you finally bring them up, she’s hardly surprise and does bring up that she’d seen them before

she doesn’t expect you to explain anything and if you feel pressured to do so for whatever reason, then she’ll shake her head and shush you

you can speak about your past, but only if you want to do so — that’s something she’s insistent that you know and understand

but from then on, whenever one of your scars is visible to her, she’ll place a chaste kiss onto it before moving on — smiling throughout

Rapunzel

the moment she sees your scars she starts fretting over you and you can guarantee that if she still had her gift that she’d be trying to heal you

she works herself up into such a state that she’s the one crying and you have to calm her down — tell her that they’re old, that you’re fine now, you promise

once she calms down she insists on going through each and every mark, scar or blemish on your body and kissing it

she just wants to assure herself that you’re fine, is all

and that’s exactly what she does, meaning you’ll be spending your next hour or so trying not to giggle and flustering under her affection as she shows her appreciation for every mark on your body — from your ankles to the crown of your head

Tiana

she’s gotten her fair share of scars in life, usually due to a mishap in the kitchen or a tumble she took when she was younger

that’s to say she’s not going to balk when she notices a deep ridge or faint line scar on your body

it’s all a much of a muchness for her

if you have a cool story to tell then she’s all ears and is happy to exchange tales of childhood falls for fight stories over a hot bowl of gumbo

but she will make a point to kiss your scars whenever you’re being cute and domestic — along with any other bit of skin in reach

like if you’re dancing in the kitchen she’ll spin and dip you before kissing the marks on your jaw or on your face

or if you’re laying beside her and holding hands she might absentmindedly start kissing along your wrist and arm, catching any potential scars or blemishes along the way

any marks on your back are usually kissed as a consolation after a long day — like when you’re hunched over and achy or ill and she’s trying to comfort you

and so on

10/10 girlfriend, honestly

#sleepingdeath #female reader #fluff #fluff hcs #disney fluff #disney x reader #disney princesses x reader #rapunzel x reader #pocahontas x reader #tiana x reader #mulan x reader #disney princess fluff #belle x reader

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: A blissful sunny day after a long hard night. Ao3 Wattpad Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.9 Ch.10 AN: Longer chapter, ~7k words Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 8 - Or Down Affections Cloudless Sky

Kate woke the next morning to the quiet serenade of songbirds and the soft caress of a gentle breeze through the leaves. The day embraced her with warmth, a welcome comfort after a long exhausting night. Sitting up, she found herself on Arthur’s cot, but he was nowhere in sight. A twinge of guilt tugged at her for taking his bed. Her waist was bound in cloth, the pain from her wound lingered but it was nothing she was not used to by now. 

Her gaze drifted to the shoreline, where Belle and Lorena nibbled on cattails, exactly where they had been the night before. She sighed in relief, sensing that calm had returned and a semblance of normalcy had settled over the camp. The smell of eggs and pork filled the air, and her stomach made its hunger known. 

Heading towards the chuck wagon, Kate noted the camp was now organized, a silent testament to the efficiency of her companions. However, Micah was nowhere to be seen. She made a mental note to have a friendly discussion with him later. Seizing a plate, she settled at the wooden table to eat, only to be joined by Abigail moments later.

“Mind if I sit with you?” She asked politely. 

Kate shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Not at all,” she replied, gesturing for Abigail to join her.

Abigail smiled warmly as she settled onto a wooden crate, pulling Kate’s revolver from the pocket of her dress and sliding it across the table. “I just wanted to say thank you,” she admitted, her gratitude shining in her eyes, “for what you did for us last night.”

Kate accepted the revolver and holstered it, waving off Abigail’s thanks. “No thanks needed, Abigail. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Abigail sighed, her gaze drifting towards Jack in the distance, skipping rocks across the water. John was nearby, unloading the wagon while keeping a watchful eye on their son.

“I keep prayin’ for this all to end,” Abigail confessed, her voice tinged with weariness. “My boy deserves a better life than this.”

Kate empathized deeply with Abigail’s longing for a different life for her son. This was no environment to raise a child, but it was the hand they were dealt for survival. During her time here, however fleeting, Kate vowed to find a way to help them break free from this cycle of violence. They deserved a chance at a peaceful life, far removed from the shadows of death.

“I’m not a religious woman Abigail,” Kate began thoughtfully, “but in my life I’ve found that a prayer always has one of three answers; yes, not yet, and I have something else planned for you. I have faith that your boy will turn out just fine.” After all, he had the entire camp as his protectors, willing to sacrifice everything for his safety.

Abigail’s expression softened into a solemn smile. “I know that bravery is found in living,” she replied earnestly, “but sometimes I don’t feel very brave. I felt useless back there. If you hadn’t come along and given that rifle to John, I don’t know what would have happened.” She shuddered at the memories.

“That’s nonsense,” Kate retorted, squeezing Abigail's hand reassuringly, “you’re the bravest woman I know. There’s nothing more courageous than a mother willing to lay down her life for her son. And last night, I saw a strong woman fiercely protecting her child. I knew you would stop at nothing to defend your boy.”

Abigail’s smile deepened at Kate’s words, and she looked down bashfully as she placed her hand over Kate’s. “I hope that’s true.”

“I know that's true,” she interjected with conviction.

With a quiet laugh, Abigail stood to depart. “I think you would make a great mother, Kate,” she said, her words carrying genuine warmth. It meant a lot to Kate to hear such kindness, especially after everything she had been through. Her thoughts drifted back to Arthur and their conversation from the night before.

“Thank you,” Kate said sincerely. Before Abigail could leave, she added, “Have you seen Arthur this morning?”

“I think he’s sleeping against a tree over by the water,” Abigail pointed in his direction, and Kate could see the outline of his legs stretched out beneath a shady tree.

With an extra plate of breakfast and a cup of fresh coffee in hand, Kate made her way over to Arthur to express her gratitude for his service the previous night. As she approached, she was a little surprised to see that he was already awake, writing something in his journal. He closed it with a thunk when he noticed Kate’s figure approaching. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Arthur greeted with a warm smile.

Kate couldn't help but smile back. “Good morning, Arthur,” she said, bending down to hand him his food and drink.

“That for me?” Arthur exclaimed with surprise. She nodded as their hands met to pass the plate. His hunger was palpable. “Aw shucks, Kate, ya didn’t have to bring me breakfast,” he said bashfully, taking a grateful sip of coffee.

Kate settled into the sandy grass beneath the tree next to him, “it’s the least I can do, for patching me up last night,” she explained, “and for letting me steal your cot.” She added with a hint of embarrassment. She didn’t remember when she had fallen asleep. 

Arthur chuckled, taking a bite of his eggs, “don’t mention it. How ya feeling anyways?” He inquired about the bullet wound in her side. 

“I’ve been through worse,” she admitted with a bitter laugh, her hand grazing the side of her hip where he had squeezed the bullet through her flesh. 

Arthur sighed, and gave her a sympathetic look, “I’m so sorry Kate, that is a hard life,” he said sincerely, recalling her recount of her past. “No one deserves to go through that.”

Kate waved off his apology. “I’ve made my peace with it,” she professed, her eyes meeting his own, “but I owe you an apology for how I acted at the ranch.” Arthur wanted to speak up and tell her he was the one who should be apologizing, but he let her continue.

“For what it’s worth. I know what it’s like to hate yourself just as much as you hate the world. And whatever darkness your past carries, I do not think less of you for it.”

His face softened, and his heart pulsed. Arthur felt like he was looking into a reflection of himself, or what he could have been. He concluded last night that Kate is the bravest woman he had ever met, braver than he could ever be. And he greatly admired her for it. Darkness and damnation was nothing new to him, but he believed in his heart that he was already too damned to be brought back to the light. He is a person who has caused so much suffering, he believed he didn’t deserve happiness. He had fully convinced himself of his own cruelty. 

“Kate, I think I’m the one who owes you an apology. I -” he began. Suddenly, Arthur’s name was called from within the camp. His duties never ceased; even on quiet mornings. “Damnit,” he muttered. With a grunt he chugged the last of his coffee before standing. Turning to her he promised, “I’ll come find you later.”

Kate smiled sympathetically with a nod, offering him a parting reminder, “don’t keep hidden what matters Arthur, even from yourself.” 

He placed his hat on his head and tipped it to her in a warm gesture before taking off back into the camp. Kate settled against the tree and was about to close her eyes just as her loyal mare Lorena came trotting over to her side of the beach. Eager for attention. She chuckled at the sight, “how ya doin’ pretty girl.” 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

After valentine, we fled the country and headed even further south and east, camping by a lake. This is pretty much new country for me. If only we had fled west out of Blackwater, we could be free now, out where we belong beyond civilization with the savages and the animals. Here, we won’t ever be at home.

By some miracle, my mean nasty ugly self has yet to scare Kate away. Even after that debt collecting mess. That kinda work is revolting, and it shames me, and I think she is the first woman to ever see me and set me straight. Mary saw this side of me too, but she knew I would never change, so she left me. I could not offer her the life she deserved. Oh Mary, what a couple of fools we were. 

Kate said she came back for Abigail and her boy, from one mother to another. She wants peace for them too, away from this nonsense and lies. Ain’t that what we’re all seeking? Not sure I know myself anymore. Dutch don’t seem too worried that the law keeps finding us, I’m beginnin’ to doubt his wisdom. 

I had never seen a woman fight so brutally as Kate, and now I know why. I can handle the unkindness of existence. But to hear it from the lips of a good honest woman, it damn near broke my heart. I don’t know how she does it. After everything that life handed her, goodness comes naturally to her. Like she does not oppose GOOD vs EVIL as it rages within me. I’ve seen her rage and bloodlust and it frightens me, but she is ashamed of that part of herself. Perhaps we have more in common than I thought. 

Arthur made his way through camp in search of Dutch, a slight annoyance lingering from his interrupted conversations with Kate. Yet Kate seemed understanding; she knew he was a busy man and showed sympathy towards him. Last night, as he tenderly stitched her back together, he saw a different side of her—she had bared her heart and soul. He realized why it was important for him to know this side of her; she saw someone she could relate to. But Arthur believed he was beyond saving.

Unlike Kate, Arthur was born into the flame. Blood and violence had been his companions since childhood; he never experienced the loving embrace of a mother or father. A child born in the flame loves the fire and becomes its fuel, perpetuating its rage.

Kate, on the other hand, was burned by the flame. She had a loving family, a proper and honest life with her husband and child—all stripped away. Then, the fire engulfed her. She had to become the flame to ensure it would never burn her again.

Arthur found Dutch by the lakeshore on the opposite side of camp. "How are you doing, old friend?" Dutch asked, calling out to him.

"Fine," Arthur retorted, his frustration evident. Last night's events and Micah's actions toward Kate weighed heavily on him, and he felt Dutch bore some responsibility. Since arriving at the new hideout, Dutch hadn't even acknowledged Kate, let alone thanked her for her help.

"It's funny... us ending up down here," Dutch continued, his voice reflective. "My daddy died in a field in Pennsylvania fighting this lot. Did I ever tell you that?"

Arthur nodded wearily. "Many times, Dutch."

Dutch noticed his disinterest. "I see I'm boring you, Arthur."

He blew out a breath, his frustration simmering. "No, you're worrying me. We could've lost people last night. Why didn't you send some men back to help us?"

"We have lofty goals, Arthur," Dutch replied, his tone rehearsed. "Our primary objective was to escape the law."

“Our primary objective is to keep everyone safe!” Arthur's voice rose with anger. “Kate took a bullet for the Marston’s, that's more than I can say about you Dutch.” 

"Society is reforming, son," Dutch said, sounding like he was delivering a sermon. "We're trying to make it better, kinder, and truer. There will be casualties..."

"The world don’t want us no more. Why aren't we heading back west? What are we even doing here?" Arthur pressed.

Dutch sighed, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We are dreamers in a world of facts, Arthur. But come on, let me make it up to you, son."

Typical Dutch, always deflecting when he didn't have a direct answer. Everything was a strategic move in his mind, and he always had to be the one in control. Arthur followed as Dutch led him further down the beach, where a large rowboat was waiting ashore with Hosea and John standing nearby.

"We've got the day, and it's beautiful out. Thought it'd be nice to take my boys out fishin' like the good old times," Dutch said with a smile. "Hosea says there's a creek around here, probably full of fish."

Arthur tipped his hat to his father and brother as they approached. John looked just as perplexed as Arthur. They weren't kids anymore, and it had been ages since they did anything together that didn't involve something illegal.

"You don't look too rosy, old friend. I thought this warmer weather would—" Dutch began, turning to Hosea.

"My days of looking good are long over, Dutch," Hosea admitted with a chuckle, then turned to Arthur. "How's the young lady? Heard she got shot last night."

Arthur sighed. "She'll be alright. Nothing too bad. But I'm gonna have some words with that sack of shit Micah," he added bitterly.

"I'll do you one better and put a bullet between his eyes," John quipped, earning a chuckle from Arthur. "I owe Kate that much. She seriously did me a solid by lending me her rifle."

"Nobody's shootin’ nobody," Dutch's gravelly voice cut through. "Now c'mon, help an old man get this in the water." He gestured toward the wooden boat.

Arthur and John exchanged a look. Hosea rolled his eyes. "Always bursting the bubble, you. C'mon, boys, let's go catch some fish." He joined Dutch in pushing the boat into the water.

Together, they climbed aboard the wooden craft. John took up the oars and rowed toward the supposed creek Hosea had mentioned. As he rowed, Arthur took in the surrounding scenery. It was a beautiful, cloudless day, the sun beating down warmly. It had been a while since he could relax and enjoy himself, so he set aside his grievances with Dutch, if only for the afternoon.

Dutch was the first to break the silence, as usual. "You know, before any of them back there," he began, gesturing toward the other gang members, "it was just us. The curious couple and their two unruly sons." He chuckled with a grateful sigh. "This feels good, thanks for doing this with me, boys," Dutch added, his expression full of pride and gratitude as he looked at his two sons.

He continued, "I feel like we can really breathe here. As thick and soupy as this air is, it might even do your whistling pipes some good, Hosea."

Hearing Dutch comment on Hosea's health worried Arthur. Since they left Colter, Hosea's health had been declining. The harsh cold had taken its toll, and he feared his father figure was nearing his end. Hosea had a rattling cough that struck fear into Arthur's heart every time he heard it, imagining the worst as Hosea struggled for air.

"I was once in this country with Bessie," Hosea ignored Dutch's comment, lost in his memories of his late wife. "Oh, it feels like a lifetime ago."

“It was a lifetime ago,” Dutch chimed, “what a life we have lived. How well we have fought, especially you two.” His gaze finding Arthur and John’s. “With just a little more money, we’ll be out of here in no time. We just need to stay hidden.” 

Hosea raised a brow, “oh, is that so?” 

“I have a plan Hosea, I’ve got ideas hatching I just,” he hesitated a moment, “I need you with me, not against me. All of you.” 

Arthur nodded, “ ‘course Dutch.” 

“We’re always with you Dutch,” John piped in from the back of the boat. 

The unlikely family rowed the rest of the way in comfortable silence. They listened to the lapping of the water, the song of the seabirds, and felt the gentle breeze tickle their hair. It truly was a beautiful day for fishing. Arthur tilted his face to the sun and relaxed his shoulders. Moments like this made him believe that maybe things would turn out okay for them in the end.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate spent the morning tending to her mare, staying close to the shoreline, brushing and washing the blood from Lorena's coat. She hummed a quiet tune, feeling Lorena's affectionate sniffs on her face. Guilt gnawed at Kate for pushing Lorena too hard the previous night, though the horse seemed unfazed. Memories flooded back of when they first met.

Lorena was found in an abandoned barn, where she and River had chased down horse thieves. Just a frightened filly, barely a year old, she had been left tied up after the thieves fled in a hurry. It took Kate months to earn her trust, enduring every buck and bite. But the bond they forged was unbreakable—Lorena would stop at nothing for her rider, just as Kate would gladly lay down her life for her baby girl.

As Kate combed Lorena's dark mane, she noticed the mare's ears flickering back and forth, as if sensing something. Kate was about to ask her what was wrong when Sadie's voice erupted from within the camp.

“Say whatever you damn well please, but I tell you, if you ask me to chop one more vegetable I’m going to kill you!” She shouted, her frustration evident. 

Mr. Pearson answered her in equal anger, “and if you don’t stop hissing at me, I’m going to kill you!” He retorted. 

Kate spun on her heel and sprinted back into camp toward the chuck wagon. There, she found Sadie and Pearson squabbling, with Sadie brandishing a knife and Pearson looking ready to explode.

“Can’t somebody else help you cook for once? I ain’t your damn housewife!” Sadie shouted, pointing the tip of the knife at Pearson.

“You put that knife down or you’re going to be missing a hand, young lady!” Pearson roared back.

Kate approached the wagon, hands on her hips in disappointment. “What the hell is wrong with you two?” she shouted over them.

“I ain’t chopping vegetables for a living,” Sadie answered, slamming the knife down on the cutting board. She threw her hands up in frustration. “And I ain’t being lazy neither. I can work, but not like this!”

Kate sympathetically tilted her head. Despite their differences, she could understand Sadie's frustration. She'd gladly handle the simple duties and stay out of trouble, but Sadie thrived on adventure. You couldn’t keep a woman like her cooped up for long.

Sadie moved to the other side of the wagon, taking a deep breath before turning back to Pearson and Kate. “My husband and I shared the work, all of it,” she explained. “I tended to the fields, hunted, carried a gun, and used a knife.” Her voice rose in anger. “If you keep me here, I’ll skin this old coot and serve him for dinner!”

“Watch your damn mouth, you crazy goddamn fishwife!” Pearson retorted, pointing an accusing finger. Sadie looked ready to pounce.

It was about time Kate stepped between the two, “that’s enough!” She yelled, using her hands to distance the two feral cats from scrapping, she placed a hand on Sadies shoulder to hold her back. She turned her gaze to Pearson, “that includes you too.” 

The old man raised his hands in defeat with a grunt. Kate turned to Sadie. “Why don’t we ride into town today? See what we can stir up,” she suggested. “Need anything while we’re out, Pearson?”

The cook reached into his wagon and handed over two pieces of paper. “Here’s my list. Could you also post this letter for me?” Kate nodded, tucking the items into her satchel. With a tip of her hat, she let Pearson get back to work.

The two widows climbed into the empty supply wagon, Kate taking up the reins. Together, they departed from camp and made their way toward Rhodes.

“I guess I’m back to bein’ the mailwoman,” Sadie grumbled. “At least we get to go shoppin’.”

Kate chuckled, nudging her knee against Sadie's. “Oh, come on. It ain’t so bad. We just earned ourselves the entire afternoon to do as we please,” she said with a playful wink. Sadie met her gaze and grinned.

Once they were away from camp, Kate broached the conversation again. “You cooled down now?” she asked, her voice gentle and concerned.

“I guess,” Sadie sighed. “I just hate taking orders from that sweaty half-wit. Hey, what did you do with that letter?” she inquired.

Kate chortled, “oh so the mail woman is also reading people’s letters now?” She asked with a laugh, slightly concerned that she may have snooped in Arthur’s personal letter from Mary. 

“Not particularly, I just wanna see who that old bastards writin’ too.” 

Kate shook her head, sighing as Sadie eagerly took the letter. In a mockingly low voice, Sadie began to read aloud. “Dear Aunt Cathy,” she started, “I haven’t heard from you in some time, so I pray to the Lord above that your health has not deteriorated further…” Her mocking trailed off as she read the first half of the letter.

Kate sucked in an awkward breath. “Maybe you should, uh, stop there, Sadie.”

The woman pressed on, her eyes scanning over the pages. “Blah blah blah, it’s boring. Oh! Wait a sec, listen to this; since we last corresponded I have traveled widely, making no small name for myself. Before you ask, I am still yet to take a wife but I can assure you it’s not for lack of suitors…”

Kate snorted and quickly covered her mouth, unable to contain her laughter. Sadie’s infectious chuckles mixed with her own amusement. “You think he ever talked to a woman he didn’t pay for?” Sadie managed to say between laughs.

“I guess we’re all hiding behind something,” Kate replied, meeting Sadie’s amused gaze. The laughter bubbled up again, and soon they were both hysterical. The wagon veered off track as Kate was distracted, but she quickly yanked on the reins to right themselves.

“Oh, you are something else Sadie Adler,” Kate gasped, trying to compose herself.

Sadie chuckled and affectionately slapped Kate’s knee. “I think we’re running with a bunch of idiots dressed up like outlaws.” She handed the letter back to Kate as the wagon pulled into town. They guided the horses over to the general store and hopped down.

“I’ll mail this while you do the shopping,” Kate stated, nodding as they parted ways.

After all these years, Kate still held out hope that her aunt would someday write back to her. In every town she passed through, she asked the post office to mail a letter for her. She continued to write to her aunt, but she stopped receiving word back almost a decade ago. She could only assume her aunt was no longer living, but she enjoyed writing her letters nonetheless. 

It didn’t take long for them to finish their assigned errands; the post office was a short walk from the general store. As Kate walked back, she saw Sadie and the store clerk finishing up loading the wagon. Sadie had purchased a new outfit, her old worn-out jeans and top replaced by a nice pair of black dukes and a fresh yellow button-down. She looked more at ease after getting out of camp, but Kate suspected the fun wasn’t over yet.

"Alright, anything else we need to do here?" Sadie inquired, dusting her hands and placing them on her hips.

Kate smiled, “Care to join me for a drink?” She nodded towards the saloon up the street.

Sadie followed her gaze and turned back with a grin, “After you, Miss McCanon.”

The two widows settled on the porch of the saloon facing the sun, each with a chilled glass of spiked sweet tea. It wasn’t enough to get them drunk, just enough to take the edge off. It was a beautiful day, so why waste it running errands? Kate’s cheeks were flushed, both from the beating sun and her drink, but her heart felt light. After the hell they all went through last night, she felt she deserved this.

Sadie, equally deep in her glass, ran an idle finger around the rim. “You know, my Jake would’ve loved it here. He was always complaining ‘bout the cold, but I told him a hundred times we could move south and he refused,” she said, lost in the memory of her husband.

Kate nodded somberly, “My husband would’ve liked it here too. He was from Kentucky but moved to Boston when he was a kid. I know he missed the country dearly.”

After a moment, Kate asked a question that had been on her mind, “How come you and Jake never had children?” Despite rarely having time together, they enjoyed sharing pieces of their lives with one another. Kate had told Sadie about her husband and daughter over one of their many late-night poker games. It brought them closer, and they had more in common than she realized.

“We thought about it, but where we lived up in the Grizzlies, it was no place to raise a child,” Sadie explained, scanning the town and its bustling people. “Although, I think this country would’ve been great for us. The owner at the general store said they were building a school here.”

“Can’t say putting kids in school won’t make the world better,” Kate said with a somber sigh.

“At least it’s progress,” Sadie added.

“I’m not even sure I know what that word means anymore,” Kate retorted, taking a sip from her glass.

Sadie leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “This town is full of drunks, Kate. I’m not sure anybody here knows what that word means.” Kate looked over at Sadie and couldn't help but let out a laugh. The two girls chuckled as their laughter fed one another.

After an hour, they decided it was time to head back. Sadie took up the reins this time; she was a little tipsy, as were they both at this point. But it was nothing they couldn’t handle. After a few minutes of riding, they left the town perimeter and entered the plains again, when a few men on horses approached them.

"Hey there," one of the men called out, "what you ladies up to?"

“Just headin’ home,” Kate answered politely.

One of the men maneuvered his horse in front of the wagon, causing Sadie to pull the reins to a halt. “You’re in Lemoyne Raider country. You need to pay a toll to pass through here,” the man declared.

Lemoyne Raiders? Kate's mind raced as she connected the pieces from last night; these people must be from the same group that attacked them. Her demeanor shifted, and she gazed at the two men before her from under the brim of her hat.

“Oh, is that so?” she began coolly, “I don’t think I’ve heard of you.”

“We’re gonna need you to pull over this wagon right now,” the man on Sadie's side of the wagon demanded. Kate caught the flash of iron from his gun as it glinted in the sun. Sadie noticed it too; she turned her head to meet Kate’s gaze. They shared a moment of unspoken understanding, nodding ever so slightly. With a wink, Sadie signaled to make their move.

“Here’s your toll you son of a bitch!” Kate shouted. In unison the two women upholstered their revolvers and shot the men dead, on either side of the wagon.

The raiders tumbled out of their saddles as Sadie cracked the reins, sending the wagon careening forward at a relentless pace. More men appeared from behind, closing in on them along the dry, dusty road.

“Let’s keep this little squabble between us,” Kate chuckled to Sadie, preparing to deal with the raiders. She aimed her pistol and fired, missing her target. With a frustrated grunt, she took another shot, hitting a man in the shoulder this time. She made a mental note to retrieve her rifle from John when they returned.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Laughter echoed through the secluded creek, startling birds from the trees. Four fishing lines bobbed idly in the water as the two older gentlemen reminisced about embarrassing tales from their boys' younger days. Despite catching only a few perch and bass, the fish weren’t biting much, perhaps due to their wooden watercraft rocking from their rowdy chuckles. But they couldn’t care less; nothing could spoil such a pleasant afternoon.

"Remember when little John got so spooked holding a fish that he fell right out of the boat? Thank God Arthur was with us or the kid would've drowned!" Dutch chuckled heartily, slapping his knee.

John shook his head, laughing at the memory. "Yeah, well, at least I didn't go to the market, buy the three biggest bass, and try to pass them off like I caught 'em," he teased, nodding towards Arthur. "Dumbass didn't think we'd run into the guy who sold it to him!"

“Oh, not this again,” Arthur grinned, feigning annoyance. "Maybe I should toss you overboard right now, Marston. Let's see how fast you can swim to shore," he playfully threatened. "Oh, that's right, you still can't swim!" He chuckled heartily.

The four men shared another round of laughter. As their giggles died down, Hosea noted the time, “We’ve been out here a while, boys. What do you say we head back and get this cooked for dinner?”

The group nodded in agreement, and Hosea picked up the oars. He was about to lower them into the water when Arthur playfully tapped his arm. “Let me row, you two are getting too old for real labor,” he said with a grin. Remembering how weak Hosea was getting, Arthur wasn’t about to let him do the work. He wanted Hosea to enjoy the evening without tiring himself out.

“And you’re too dumb for anything else,” Hosea quipped back with a smile.

Arthur let out a hearty laugh as he took his seat and lowered the oars. “You’re still too quick for me, old man!”

Hosea playfully bopped him on the top of his head. “I just enjoy picking on children,” he winked. Their banter flowed effortlessly; Arthur always enjoyed spending time with Hosea. He loved Dutch too, but he saw Hosea more as a father figure. Hosea was his role model, and Arthur was his biggest fan.

“Well, I guess we didn’t have much luck fishing,” Dutch remarked after a moment, looking at their small haul.

“Bad luck and stupid fish,” John mused.

“Or maybe the fish had good luck and we’re just stupid,” Arthur added with a snicker.

As Arthur rowed steadily, following the shoreline back to camp, Hosea let out a sigh and gazed out at the water. After a moment, he spoke up. “How do you boys feel about a song?” 

The boys launched into a hearty old sea chanty led by Hosea, with Arthur and John joining in on the chorus. As they neared camp, laughter escaped them, a shared contentment settling in. Dutch and Hosea took the fish, signaling they would bring them to Pearson, while Arthur and John guided the boat to a secluded spot on the other side of camp to safeguard it from prying eyes.

Pushing the boat through the shallow waters, John broke the quiet. “I had fun today. Wasn’t sure what Hosea was up to dragging me out of bed this morning, but I actually enjoyed it.”

Arthur chuckled, a hint of playful jab in his voice. “Maybe now you’ll remember to take your own son fishing sometime.”

“Maybe, if someone wasn’t already taking him,” John shot back, irritation creeping into his tone.

Arthur straightened, his expression serious. “Don’t give me that shit, Marston,” he spat,” If you’re not stepping up, what’s the difference? You’ll just run off again.”

“Why are you so interested in my life? Don’t you have your own?” John retorted. 

Arthur sighed, his tone softer, “just figure yourself out John, you can’t be two people at once.”

John scoffed, a touch of bitterness coloring his voice. “You’re one to talk, Morgan! At least my kid is alive. Can’t say the same about yours.” He immediately regretted his words as Arthur’s eyes darkened, and he moved closer through the water.

“I am one to talk Marston,” Arthur replied, his conviction mixed with regret. “You left that boy, your family, for nearly a whole damn year!”

John grimaced, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. “You know it ain’t that simple. I wasn’t—” He paused, then continued with a lower voice. “I wasn’t ready to be a father.”

Arthur softened, sympathy in his tone. “And you think I was? Look how that turned out.”

“See? You and I are the same,” John remarked.

“No, we’re not,” Arthur countered with gravity. “You have a family, John. For the love of God, don’t abandon them.”

The boat finally rounded the bend, hidden from strangers’ view. Arthur said nothing more as he left John and headed into camp, his mind heavy with old memories and lingering regrets.

As Arthur made his way toward the fire, ready to settle in for the evening with a cold beer and fresh fish for dinner, rowdy laughter near the chuck wagon caught his attention. To his surprise, Kate and Sadie were busy unloading supplies for Pearson.

"What’s got you girls laughing like a couple of hyenas on caffeine?" Arthur asked with a smile, relieved to hear Kate’s laughter lifting his spirits. He found himself thinking of her more and more, even wishing to be the reason behind her smile.

Sadie chortled and exchanged a look with Kate. "Don’t worry ‘bout it, cowboy," she replied with a laugh. Pearson waved off the girls, and Sadie bid them farewell, mentioning she was off to freshen up before dinner. Kate turned back to Arthur with a smile, and the two of them made their way to the fire to catch up on their day's adventures.

"Heard you caught us some fish for dinner," Kate noted.

Arthur chuckled. "Well, it ain’t much, but it'll do. What were you up to today?"

Kate leaned back against the log, stretching her legs toward the fire. "Posted some mail, did a little shopping, got some drinks with Sadie…" She trailed off, then added, "and, uh, may have run into those raiders again." Arthur sat up, shooting her a worried look.

"Easy there, cowpoke," Kate reassured him, giggling. "Sadie and I took care of it. Just a couple of dumbasses trying to make a quick buck." She shook her head with annoyance.

As the rest of the gang members gathered around the fire with the setting sun, Arthur and Kate continued to chat about their day. The smell of fried fish filled the air, and everyone eagerly awaited dinner. Bottles of beer were passed around, and Kate accepted hers with gratitude. It felt like the perfect way to end the day—crisp drink, good food, and great company.

Javier settled in with his guitar, but before he could strum a tune, he turned his attention to Kate. "Why don’t you play us something tonight?" He offered her his guitar with both hands. Surprised by the gesture, Kate shook her head bashfully. "Oh c’mon, cariño, don’t be shy! Arthur told me you used to play."

Kate shot Arthur a teasing glance, and he held up his hands defensively. "Alright, I’ll give it a go," she caved.

As Kate tuned the wooden instrument to her liking, she caught sight of a familiar face entering camp—Micah. Arthur noticed him too and started to rise, but Kate gestured for him to stay put. "If you do all the talkin’ for me, Morgan, I’m gonna forget how to talk," she said with a reassuring grin. She slipped a small bone knife from her satchel, concealing it from the others. "Be right back," she said as she got up to intercept Micah before he could find Dutch.

With purposeful steps, Kate approached Micah. Threatening him in front of the entire camp wouldn’t work, and brute force had already been attempted—she needed a new approach.

"Micah!" Kate called out in a bogus friendly tone, drawing the attention of everyone around. She saw the confusion in his eyes, tinged with arrogance. "Well, looks like you’re still here. Guess I should apologize for my aberration," he said, his voice like a hissing snake.

Kate chuckled as she closed the distance between them. "No apology needed, Mr. Bell. It was just a misunderstanding," she said loud enough for the others to hear.

To his surprise, Kate draped her arm over his shoulder in a seemingly affectionate gesture, their heights nearly matching. Before Micah could react, he felt the sharp tip of something against his neck.

"Walk with me," Kate said in a low voice, her grip firm on his neck. She led them away from the camp, speaking directly into his ear, much like he had done to her when she first joined the gang.

"I’m not here to hand out gold stars for your sudden epiphany, Micah. Try me again, and I promise you, I will return the favor tenfold," she spat, the knife pressing dangerously against his jugular. One false move and he would be bleeding out in the dry grass. 

Micah chuckled, his demeanor shifting. "Is that an invitation?" he retorted dryly.

Kate brushed off his insinuation with a steely gaze. "I assure you, I've dealt with far scarier men than you. You're nothing but a coward hiding behind your pawns. I've faced men like you, tortured men like you. You relish in others' suffering, but you haven't known suffering yourself. And I won't show you mercy."

With that, she withdrew her hand, flicking it upwards in a swift but gentle motion that left a shallow cut on his chin, drawing blood. "Consider this your one and only warning."

With a dismissive flick of her boot, Kate pivoted on her heel and strode back toward the welcoming glow of the campfire, leaving Micah to nurse his wounded pride. As she moved away, she caught a glimpse of him rubbing his chin thoughtfully, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips, ““you and I would make a good team Kate.” She rolled her eyes and continued her walk. 

Seating herself beside the crackling flames, Kate casually picked up Javier's guitar, her movements deliberate yet nonchalant. The instrument felt familiar in her hands, providing a comforting distraction from the lingering tension.

Arthur leaned in close, his voice a low murmur against her ear. "How'd it go?" he inquired, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

Kate couldn't help but laugh, her confidence unwavering despite the encounter with Micah. "Oh, you know," she replied with a mischievous glint in her eye, "the usual threats and warnings. I might have mentioned something about plucking his eyeballs out and serving them for dinner... but I was only half serious." She shot Arthur a playful wink before turning her attention to the rest of the gang.

Seated comfortably around the fire, the gang members welcomed Kate's return with warm smiles and eager anticipation. She glanced around at her companions, a sense of camaraderie settling over the group.

"So, what'll it be tonight?" Kate asked, her fingers beginning to pluck at the guitar strings. 

As the flames danced and shadows flickered, memories of her father's cheerful tunes filled Kate's mind. She recalled a particular song he used to sing on balmy summer evenings, a lighthearted melody that brought joy even after the toughest of days. Adjusting her grip on the guitar, Kate launched into the familiar tune, her voice carrying over the crackling fire with a warmth that echoed the affection she felt for her makeshift family.

I dream in the morning, that she brings me water,

And I dream in the evening that she brings me wine.

Just a poor man’s daughter, from Puerto Peñasco.

South of the border, in old Mexico.

There’s a great hot desert, south of Mexicali.

And if you dont got water, you’d better not go. 

Tequila won’t get you across that desert,

To Evangelina, in old Mexico.

The fire I feel for the woman I love, is drivin’ me insane.

Knowing she’s waitin’, and I can’t get there. 

God only knows that I wracked my brain, to try to find a way, 

To reach that woman, in old Mexico.

Evangelina, I miss you so. 

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde #fluff #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #angst #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #john marston #hosea matthews #micah bell #javier escuella #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 community #red dead fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #mutual pining #eventual smut #eventual romance #arthur morgan x oc #oc x canon #original character #archive of our own

[imwall-e]

Until we meet again : Chapter 1

Pairing : TB!Arthur Morgan x Reader

Warning : MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAY THE GAME, major character dea•th, tuberculosis, angst, (tell me if I forgot some), reader but external POV

A/N : I wrote this a few months ago and finally decided to post it. I'm really proud of this chapter, my best work so far (imo). I first wrote it in French and mostly used Deepl to translate the text, and even if I re-read it, they may be some mistake so don't hesitate to tell me! This is not beta read. This is my first work for the Red Dead fandom and I hope it's good. Consider liking, rebloging or commenting if you like my work (and feel comfortable with that of course).

The atmosphere of Beaver Hollow was already being felt long before we arrived at the new camp. The area was dark, damp, stinking. It was as if it were haunted. Cursed. As for the cave, it was a concentration of all that, only worse. Once home to a local gang nicknamed The Rejects of Murfree, it bore indelible traces of the horrors it had harbored. The smell outside was unbearable, but inside was a vision of dread. Blood was visible from floor to ceiling, pieces of decomposing corpses smeared all the way down to its entrails. Impossible to settle inside.

Where just a few weeks earlier the gang had been celebrating their exit from the snowy mountains, and everyone was ready to give their all to make a new place a comfortable place to live, now there was no laughter to be heard. Not a smile was to be seen on any of the faces. Only whispers, distrust, fear and death reigned.

And Arthur… his coughing fits were becoming more violent, and more frequent. His skin was pale, contrasting with the blue of his eyes, which betrayed his illness and fatigue.

Outlawed, hunted by the Pinkertons or opposing gangs like the O'Driscolls, he'd been shot at many times. And yet, he was dying of tuberculosis. A fucking disease. After all, he'd probably earned it with the life he was leading… had led. His punishment for beating up Mr Downes. A good man, always ready to help others even though he didn't have much.

Arthur, who'd never done anything right. Or so he thought, but she was always there to remind him otherwise. After Mary, after Eliza, he never thought he'd fall in love again. Then she'd come along, and offered him more than he thought he deserved.

Arthur had met her while hunting. She was wearing a long white dress. At first, he thought he saw an angel. Then their eyes met. He saw the fear in her eyes and decided to put down his bow. He introduced himself and she gradually seemed to calm down. After a few minutes' silence, she finally told him her name. Her voice trembled, but she'd asked for his help: she was supposed to be getting married that very day to a man she'd never met. But what she was looking for was freedom.

She wanted to travel. To discover. To live. And Arthur had offered her all that. For five years, they'd been happy together. Arthur had even proposed to her while they were still in Blackwater. But they'd kept it a secret until things got better.

Unfortunately, the moment never arrived.

Micah was a traitor. And Dutch had blindly followed him, going so far as to question the words of John and Arthur. He'd rather believe a dangerous madman than those he considered his own sons.

Arthur should have left after the Blackwater massacre. Hosea had tried to warn him when they'd all fled to Colter. Or he should have let Micah hang at Strawberry. If only he'd been willing to open his eyes to what Dutch had become. To his true nature. If only.

But it was too late now, and there was no point in dwelling on the past. Now he had t o protect those who remained. Tilly had already taken Jack to safety. Abigail was safe thanks to him and Sadie, and the two women had left to join Tilly. Mary-Beth and Karen had probably escaped too. She was the only one left. And he knew exactly where she'd be safe.

He helped his young fiancée onto her mare, then settled down behind her. He wanted to smell her hair while he still could. He wanted to hold her close. However, time was running out and lingering was a luxury they couldn't afford. The person he was looking for was passing through the Annesburg area, but they'd better get moving fast. He nudged the horse's flank to move it forward, and whistled for the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings to follow.

The journey wasn't long, but it went by faster than he would have liked. A dilapidated house appeared in the distance. Arthur had exchanged a few letters with the man who had taken an interest in his bleak landscape, a man he had helped not long ago. He was standing outside, setting up his camera. His gaze wandered to them, and he soon recognized Arthur.

"Mr. Morgan! I'm so happy to see you again! As you may have noticed, I've given up taking pictures of wildlife. I'm now content with the magnificent landscapes" exclaimed Albert, warmly greeting the man who had helped and saved him on numerous occasions. But his familiar enthusiasm soon disappeared when he saw the young woman's tears and Arthur's sickly pallor. "What's the matter?" he asked worriedly, abandoning his camera.

"Mr. Mason, I need you to…" but Arthur was interrupted by a coughing fit causing him to cough up blood as he stepped to the ground. "I'm dying and I'd like you to take care of my fiancée."

The young woman tried to smile at Albert, but knowing that the man she loved would soon be leaving her was too much to bear. It dashed all memories, all hopes of a better life with her cowboy.

"I'm sorry I haven't written to inform you, but recent events haven't given me the opportunity," Arthur resumed after helping his beloved off his horse.

The tears continued to roll silently down the cheeks of the woman who was to become Mrs Morgan. She was silent now, staring into space.

"Mr Morgan…", Albert didn't know what to say. This kind man, who had come to his aid so many times, was going to die. He could see the sadness in the lovers' eyes. And Albert saw only one way he could do something for them: "Don't worry, I'll take care of mademoiselle."

Arthur was relieved: she would be safe. She would live. He turned to her: she seemed no more than a ghost. But she had to fight. For him. For her. For them.

"I love you, Princess," he began, taking her in his arms. "More than you can imagine. I wish I'd said it more often. I regret so many things. But I promise we'll meet again. Not in this life, unfortunately, but in another. I'll find you again."

"We… we… we didn't even have time to get married," she managed to articulate between sobs, the crying resuming in earnest following Arthur's words.

"It wasn't our time. Now you must stay with Albert. Live, princess. Do it for me. I'll always watch over you, but promise me you won't let yourself die."

"I… I promise, Arthur."

That was all he needed to hear. He had to go now. He had unfinished business with Micah, but also with Dutch.

The sun was setting as he rested his forehead against hers. His way of kissing her for the last time, wanting to avoid her contracting tuberculosis too. He squeezed her hands and heard her whisper "I love you, Arthur".

He gently let go of her hands and she kept her eyes closed, not wishing to watch him go. To tell the truth, she was so focused on remembering his scent, his laugh, his voice, that she didn't even hear him mount his mare and gallop away.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky had darkened. A storm was approaching. Arthur was gone. Only Albert remained, looking after the stallion carrying the young woman's belongings. He knew she wouldn't move immediately, but it was time to go. He'd better get back to the cabin he'd rented before nightfall.

"Mademoiselle, I'm sorry but we must leave now. Tomorrow we'll go to Rhodes, my house is close to the city."

"Of course," was all she could reply, her gaze fixed on the mountains.

The journey to the cabin Albert had reserved was silent. The storm was roaring in the distance. She held back from joining Arthur. But she had to keep her promise.

Without Arthur, life would be difficult. Her heart would be broken forever, but she had to try. And one day, they would be reunited. She had to believe that.

The rain finally came, falling on her cheeks and mingling with her tears. She couldn't stop thinking about all those mornings she'd wake up alone. She couldn't accept that he wasn't coming back. Ever.

"Mademoiselle?" Albert's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "We've arrived. You should try to eat something and get some sleep." He didn't know what to do or say.

She followed him silently. Inside, she sat by the window, where she could see the mountains near Beaver Hollow. Soon, she closed her eyes, tears still flowing.

Her mind took her to a river in the middle of the woods. The light wind gently moved the leaves on the trees. She was wearing a long white dress. A branch cracked, startling her. But it was only Arthur, wearing the hat he always wore and the blue shirt she loved so much.

"You're beautiful," he said, and she threw her arms around his neck. "Dance with me?" Was there an answer other than "yes"?

And, each immersed in the other's gaze, they danced. Without stopping, they talked about their future: having a ranch, raising horses, starting a family. A quiet life away from traitors and the Pinkertons. Just them.

"I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, princesses," he replied, kissing her tenderly. A deer passed by them. Then nothing.

When she opened her eyes again, she knew Arthur was gone.

It was nearly nine o'clock when Albert and the young woman began their journey to Rhodes.

"I think you'll like Rhodes very much, mademoiselle. It's much quieter and warmer since the Gray and Braithwaite families, two rival families, entered… well, since they left."

The young woman smiled at the mention. It brought back memories that were certainly recent, but seemed so long ago. But her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared as she recalled Sean's death.

Then came Kieran's turn. Hosea. Lenny. Eagle Flies. John. And Arthur.

Sensing that she wouldn't talk any more than she had the day before, Albert decided to talk to her about anything and everything, in the hope of distracting her from the sadness that overwhelmed her, even if only for a few minutes.

"The landscape is also much brighter. Annesburg offers beautiful scenery, but it's a very dark, eerie area. Rhodes is nicer, warmer."

Albert was right: the further they got from Annesburg, the fresher the air seemed, the more colorful and welcoming the surroundings.

She glanced back one last time, to where Arthur had remained. Her heart sank. She felt she was abandoning him. But she had to stay strong.

Finally, Rhodes appeared before them as the sun tinted the sky orange, ready to give way to the moon.

"Miss, look!"

A majestic deer had stopped in the middle of the road, staring at them with its big dark eyes.

"It's the first time I've seen one approach like that. They're usually very frightened," Albert continued.

The deer approached the young woman and rested its muzzle against her leg. She gently touched its large antlers, then the animal moved away, disappearing among the trees.

"Goodbye, Arthur."

I hope you liked this first chapter!

#red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #first red dead redemption fanfiction #angst #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption angst #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #fanfic #dutch van der linde #sadie adler #micah bell #john marston #charles smith #albert mason

[navybrat817]

Whip

Pairing: Motocross!Hal Carter x Female Reader Summary: Hal is smitten when he spots you at the tracks. Word Count: Almost 800 Warnings: Fluff, a touch of flirting, reader is a tad shy, motocross!Hal Carter (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Meet Cowboy and Belle! July has been a terrible month for me writing wise, but this is still something. Set in the world of Starting Gate, Lapper and Downshift, we'll see them again. Thanks to @book-dragon-13 for looking this over and helping with the nickname, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @firefly-graphics and banners by @maysdigitalarts. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world! ❤️

Hal Carter always wanted to make something of himself.

WIth his sunglistened skin, natural charm, and blue eyes that sparkled almost as bright as his smile, a few thought he should’ve been a model.

Most people in his town wrote him off as a lost cause because his dad was a bum. His own mom didn’t even believe he’d accomplish anything.

Maybe that was why he stole that dirt bike years ago.

There was no place in the world for a guy like him, so why not prove them right?

He didn’t expect to fall in love with riding or revel in the rush of adrenaline.

When he was on his bike, he didn’t feel judged. It was freedom.

But being free didn’t pay the bills, not to mention dirt bikes on public roads were illegal. 

He paid his dues and did what he could to become a racer. 

Odds and ends jobs helped him save up for equipment. He even managed to save up enough for a Motocross School a few towns over.

When he wasn’t working, he practiced on dirt roads and tracks.

Hal didn’t want to just be good. He wanted to make his mark.

What better way to stand out than to give the crowd something to make them look?

Freestyle tricks were his trademark and the thing that put him on the map. Nac-Nac, Kiss of Death, Tsunami, anything to draw a gasp from the crowd.

His Southern background and light showboating earned him the nickname Cowboy.

Some of the other riders liked to sing, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” whenever the pit lizards hovered around him and teased it was a shame he had to cover up his handsome face.

The attention was nice, but he knew those girls didn’t care about him. He wanted someone interested in more than a thrill.

The day he met you, you weren’t paying any attention to him. 

He hadn't seen you before. No, he would've remembered you.

You stood apart from the crowd as you packed up your camera, doing your best not to draw attention to yourself. You even lowered your head when Maddox looked your way.

He had to know your name.

Before he could stop himself, he weaved through the sea of people until he stood in front of you. Part of it was to keep Maddox from bothering you, but the other was to selfishly see you up close.

He was screwed the moment you lifted your gaze and looked into his eyes, his heart doing a funny summersault when you adjusted your bag on your shoulder and curled in slightly on yourself. 

“Hi. I’m Hal Carter,” he smiled, wiping his hand on his pants before he offered it to you. "Haven't seen you around the tracks."

“Hi,” you said softly, giving him your hand after a second. It was so soft. "First time here. Just took a few photos," you cleared your throat as you glanced away and pulled your hand back.

Hal was about to ask if you were okay before he remembered he remembered he was shirtless. "Oh, sorry. I usually put another shirt on before I mingle," he teased, gesturing to his abs. 

Another one of his trademarks was throwing his shirt into the crowd once he was done. He hoped you weren't uncomfortable.

"Yo, Hal! She gonna save a horse and ride a cowboy?" Maddox yelled his way as you stiffened.

"Fuck off, Maddox," one of the other guys snapped. 

Why? Why now? If you weren't uncomfortable before…

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” you said quickly.

“Wait,” Hal begged, careful not to invade your space as you took a step back. "You said you took some photos, right?"

You nodded, gripping the strap of your bag as a few people moved closer. He wanted nothing more than to put his arm around you and draw you away from everyone. 

"I'd love to see some of the shots from today if that's okay? No hard feelings if you don't wanna."

"Okay," you smiled bashfully as you dug a card out for him. "I hope they turn out well. Your tricks were great."

Why does that sweet look make me want to ruin and take care of you?

"Thanks. I'm sure they will," he grinned, glancing at the card as he brushed his thumb along your printed name. "Nice meeting you, Belle."

"T-That's not my name."

"Should be. You're the most beautiful girl here."

You shook your head a little when his grin widened. "Bye, Hal."

He wondered if the line was cheesy, but the shy smile he caught before you walked away gave him hope. 

Looking at the card, he couldn't wait to see you again. 

He just hoped he made a lasting impression. 

Excited to share more of our motocross boys when I can. Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat writes #hal carter x reader #hal carter x female reader #hal carter x you #hal carter x y/n #motocross!hal carter x reader #cowboy and belle #hal carter fanfiction #hal carter imagine #hal carter #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #dialed in #dialed in: motocross au #motocross au

[yourimagines]

Reader x drake bell

Sad, fluff

I wasn’t sure to write about him because what’s going on right now but here it is

If you need someone to talk to, I’m here 👋🏻

Idiot

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: Sadness, Love and Fluff

Drake POV

I was sitting on our couch, playing some sad tunes on my guitar as I was thinking about her. “I’m such an idiot..” I sighed and tried to forget about her. “You never guess who I saw!” Josh said while barging into our room. “Who?” I said annoyed while still playing on my guitar. “Y/n.” I stopped and looked up. “Y/n?!” He nods proudly and sits down on his bed. “Yep, she was at the cinema with her friends.” He said nonchalantly as I lay my guitar away. “You mean y/n who I dated?” He rolled his eyes at me. “Yes who else dummy.” I sighed and stood up from the couch. “She was there with her friends?” He nods and my hand went through my hair. “Oh man…did she said something to you?” He hums but stayed quiet after that. “What did she say Josh?!” He held his hands up as I walked over to him. “Easy, you only asked is she said something to me.” I pointed my finger at him and shook my head. “Don’t play stupid games now Josh, what did she say.” I was getting frustrated with him as he was playing dumb. “Okay okay, she ask how your were doing and if you were dating someone.” He lay down and looked at me. “I said, he’s still being an idiot and no.” I nodded and quickly grabbed my jacket. “Where are you going?” He sat right back up in his bed. “I need to see her and get her back.” I opened our bedroom door and quickly left.

I stopped at her parent’s house and walked up. “Should I knock or just climb up?” I asked myself, I looked at the door and shook my head. “Nahh…” I walked over to the side and looked up at her window. Her lights were on, that means she back from the cinema. I carefully started to climb up to her window. “It’s slippery out here.” I whispered as I grabbed the windowsill. I placed my foot a bit higher and almost fell down as my left hand slipped away. A weird yell came out of my mouth and I closed my eyes as I hung under the window. “Drake?” She whispered as I hung there awkwardly in the darkness under her window.

Y/N POV

He looked up and smiled. “Oh hey y/n.” “What are you doing there?” I tried not to laugh or smile at him because he always makes me laugh or smile. “Oh me? I’m just chilling.” He looked very uncomfortable but he gave his signature goofy face. “You’re such an idiot Drake.” I let out a laugh and hide my face. “Yeah…can I come in? I don’t feel my arms anymore.” I giggled and pushed my window completely open. “Only because you’re cute.”

He crawled into my room and fell down on the ground. “My arms hurt.” I shook my head and closed my window. “Why are you even here? I thought you were done with me.” I turned around and crossed my arms. He stands up and brushed his jeans off. “I wanted to see you…I’m an idiot remember.” I nodded as he stood there with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets. “Yeah you are an idiot.” He nods and looks down at his shoes. “I screwed it up with you and I’m sorry.” He looked up again, his eyes meet mine and I immediately knew that I still loved him. “Y/n, I’m here to ask you for one more chance…I know I’m an idiot but I really like you.” I started to smile and walked over to him. “Okay, one more chance and if you screw it up again I will leave you hanging out there.” He smiles and nods. “Believe me I won’t do it ever again, my arms hurt way too much.” We both laughed and I gave him a hug. “I missed you Drake.” I lay my head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat that I missed so much. “I missed you too baby.” He placed a kiss on my head and held me close while we were standing in the middle of my bedroom, hugging each other.

#imagines #imagine #drake x reader #Drake bell x reader #request #x reader #x y/n #y/n x character #x you #reader x character #y/n imagines #fluff x reader #character x reader #fanfiction #Drake and Josh imagine #request open #reader imagine #female reader

[takusan-no-ai]

Christmas Cradle

PAIRING: Belle/Jasmine/Megara/Mulan x Female Reader (Platonic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: They comfort (Y/N), their bestfriend, after she’s dumped on Christmas by her boyfriend.

When Belle learns of your sad breakup with your ex, she is nothing but compassionate for you; To an extent, she can understand what it’s like to be seen as less of value. Belle takes this time to help you see yourself for who you truly are, which is a young woman with a bright future ahead of her.

“Remember, when one door closes, another one opens.” She’ll encourage you to take this break up as time to enjoy yourself. Use your newfound freedom to relax and bask in everything life has to offer. Catch back up on things you’ve been meaning to do, and enjoy new things.

But overall, there is one thing Belle recommends the most for you to grow from such a heartbreak: spend time with your loved ones. The people that you trust most dearly, give you the best experiences in life, and know you best. “You’ll be over him before you can say Worcestershire!”

Jasmine is devastated when she hears the news of your unfortunate heartbreak, but quickly bounces up into mom mode, making sure you’re okay as if you were her own daughter. She’ll take you out on a day for pampering and relaxation. You’ll be getting a five star experience at all the best places.

Rajah and all the other beautiful animals that Jasmine cares for will gladly be your therapy animals if you need it. Smooches, hugs, pets and purrs are just a fraction of the comfort you’ll receive. This is especially great if you’re an animal lover.

Of course, what’s a better way to get over your ex than a good session of pranks on him! Aladdin will definitely be a major participant in this moment. Items will be placed on higher shelf’s, Magic Carpet will have its fair share of fun, and nothing like a dinner seasoned a tad too spicy. (Aladdin wanted to be more creative but Jasmine had to draw a line somewhere or else it’d turn illegal).

“He dumped you? On Christmas?! he dumped a princess like you! Oh he’s a sack of shit!” Megara has no filter, especially for exes. Between your low self esteem and her being overprotective, Megara was damn near ready to have Hercules send a “message” to your ex.

Megara tells you to focus on yourself, better your health, relax. To stop giving him the luxury of living rent free in your mind. She’s been there, done that, so her advice actually comes from a very delicate place of heart. And while she doesn’t mean to be so rash, you know it’s just her way of showing love.

She’ll take you to have a girls night out all throughout the village. Drinking, dancing, singing, eating, everything! Before you know it you’ll have already forgotten about the jerk.

Mulan can’t relate too much to your situation, but that’s never stopped her from being sympathetic. She’ll invite you to spend time with her and Shang during their training sessions. Building your strength will help calm your mind, spirit, and emotions. The calming atmosphere of her family’s garden definitely helps.

Mulan will also teach you to appreciate your true loved ones. Those that are willing to die for you, care for you in your weakest moments, and lend an ear when you need it. She’ll be very flattered if you consider her one of those people.

When all is said and done, she encourages you to find yourself, learn more about who you are and what you need. “Life is full of ups and downs, surprises and challenges. You’re a young woman with many years ahead of her. You’re smart, strong, capable, and emotionally sound. Don’t give into the weaknesses that surround you. And if you ever do, don’t be afraid to ask for help. We’ll always be here.”

- Fin

#headcanon #female reader #disney x reader #mulan fa x reader #mulan fa #belle #belle x reader #megara x reader #megara #jasmine x reader #jasmine

[darklordofthesimp]

The Beskar Beast IV (Din Djarin x Reader)

CHAPTER 4

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

A Beauty and The Beast Retelling.

The Beskar Beast of Nevarro was a creature both worshipped and feared, protecting the planet from its enemies. Every two years the town would offer a woman as a sacrifice for their continued protection. When your sister is chosen, you take her place to save her life and find yourself entangled with the Mandalorian beast and his curse.

AN: I'm in a slump and I hate this chapter and I've got so many ideas for future chapters I just gotta power through these so bear with me and please let me know your thoughts.

Rated: 16+

Warnings: Threats of Violence

When you had imagined what the Beskar Beast looked like, you’d always thought of the most skin-crawling features. You pictured lumpy green flesh and black eyes, twisted teeth and no hair because that’s what monsters should look like. They were supernatural creatures designed to hurt and terrify those around them, it was only fitting that they’d look the part. 

But this monster? He did not look like that. 

The helmet hit the table hard behind you, your eyes widening as the Beast caged you against the hardwood. Unruly brown hair fell across the creature's forehead, curling over his ears and against his cheek. You leaned back when he pulled close, gritted teeth flashing from beneath full lips.  His nose was sloped and strong and he was younger than you’d expected. The only thing that would have raised alarms had you seen him out in town was his eyes. 

A maroon gaze, framed by thick lashes, stared down at you. They were the colour of blood, the very thing he wanted from you, what he needed to consume. 

“This is what I am,” he murmured, dark brows furrowed. His voice was raw, free of the vocoder in his helmet and you felt your body flush. It held the same rasp but somehow now, it was much more intimate ot hear him speak. Quickly, you were reminded of the severity of the situation when he gritted his teeth. Alarm tugged on your spine as two sharp canines gleamed in the light from behind his lips. Fangs. 

He was beautiful. 

But there was something so, so wrong. 

Your body screamed at the sight of him, dumping adrenaline into your system and begging you to run. Nausea rose in your stomach and all you knew was that it was unsafe to be near him, that your life was in danger, growing with every second you stood there. 

“That feeling you have?” The Beast rasped with a knowing nod,“that feeling is your survival instincts telling you that you’re going to die if you don’t run.” 

Dark strands of hair brushed along his lashes as spoke, shadowing his eyes. The Beast appraised you for a long moment while you processed; as if this was also his first time seeing you. That blood-red gaze scoured your features just as you scanned his, devouring every inch of your image and committing it to memory. 

“But if you run,” he lowered his eyes, his fingers rapping against the hardwood behind you, “it triggers… something. I can’t stop myself from chasing.” 

You choked. If the sight of him kicked your flight instinct into gear, which in turn triggered his predator drive….  It was a trap. His very existence was a trap. He made you want to run because he needed it.

You knew then that this was a different kind of monster. 

He was not an ugly, demented creature, and not something that would appear in your nightmares. The Beskar Beast was much worse. He was designed to lure you in, to overcome your common sense and hijack your logic; he’d convince you to bare your neck to him- only for him to tear it out.

He was the kind of monster that beckoned you to death, he did not force you into it. 

The Beast made you crave it. 

That is why he’d said you would be afraid, not by his appearance, but by how you would feel. Your entire body was at war. 

A tear slipped from your lashes. 

The monster followed it with his gaze, he watched as it trailed your cheek and down your neck. He groaned softly at the bob of your throat before dragging his eyes to meet yours. They were darker now, dangerous quiet flooding the space between you. 

“Are you afraid?” The words were a whisper, beating against your lips as gentle as a breath. Another tear fell as you pleaded with your body to pull away from him, you begged your hands to strike at the creature. The Beast frowned, his thumb swiping at the droplet running from him while you remained frozen beneath his touch.

“Yes,” you shuddered. He blinked, that full mouth parting for a split second before his expression hardened once more.

“Good.” 

The Beast took a step back, taking his helmet with him as he did. He raised his finger to tap your chin and the second he made contact you could breathe again. Your knees wobbled beneath you and you gripped the table hard, forcing your body to stay upright. 

“You know not to run,” the Beast eyed you meaningfully, tucking his helmet beneath his arm. “It never turns out well.” 

You stared at the monster with growing horror. The women before you must have died that way, hunted down by a Mandalorian creature and drained of their blood. In an attempt to save their own life, they’d doomed it. You would not die like that, you’d die on your own terms.

“You’re cruel,” you whispered, braving a step towards the demon. His eyes glittered with surprise, brows shooting upward. “Kill me now and be done with this. Take what you need and free me.” 

His mouth turned hard and you watched the muscles of his jaw twitch. “We’re done here.” 

The Beast pulled the helmet back over his head, glaring down at you through his visor. Your heart raced at the prospect of those maroon eyes watching you without consequence. 

“Dinner is mandatory,” the creature stood tall as he spoke, creating distance between your bodies. “Whatever you do until then is up to you.”

“What about you?” You asked shakily. When the Beast tilted his head, you took that as your cue to continue. “How will you… collect?” 

“Collect?...” 

Your blood simmered beneath your skin as you gestured toward your neck vaguely. You didn’t know how else to put it and if you had to try you thought you might’ve thrown up.  The monster inhaled sharply. 

“Tomorrow.”

That was all that he deigned to say before he turned on his heels and disappeared into the darkness.

____

“It’s not a nice experience,” Cara winced, leaning back into her chair with a sigh. The intimidating woman had come knocking on your door the next morning armed with Peli and a tray of Tarine tea and porridge. You hadn’t known there were Tarine leaves on Nevarro and you couldn’t believe that the Beast of all people had managed to get his hands on it.

“Understatement of the century,” Peli scoffed, rubbing the back of her neck roughly. “He’s got sharp kriffin’ teeth- it freaks me out.” 

You dropped your face into your trembling hands, letting loose a groan from deep within your chest. Again you wondered how you’d managed to get yourself into this situation. 

“It won’t kill me though?” You asked, pulling your gaze from your palms. 

“Not if he can stop,” Peli shrugged. “He’s pretty good with that.” 

Pretty good? 

Your life hung in the balance and the best reassurance that you had was a half-assed shrug from a curly-haired menace.

“Has he done… that… to you?” You ventured carefully. It must be traumatic to have someone you serve tear into your throat and you didn’t want to trip any emotional wires. 

“What? Feed?” Cara guaffed. 

“Kriff no,” Peli waved her hand at you dismissively. “He can’t. It’s the one part of the curse I’m grateful for.” 

You sat up straight on the bed, wariness long forgotten. There was a curse? You wanted to push the subject but by the way the woman immediately sunk in her chair, you figured you’d be getting nothing out of her. Clearly, you weren’t meant to know about it… but it was so obviously relevant to your life. Why didn’t you deserve to know? 

As if on cue, Cara’s commlink sounded with a series of beeps. 

Your stomach dropped. 

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy and the prospect of this mysterious ‘curse’ was long forgotten. The Beast had said that he would be collecting his debt from you today, but you’d half expected him to ignore you after the dinner fiasco. 

“Well,” Peli clapped her hands, standing to her feet with a huff. “You look like a Hutt, go get dressed and clean up.” 

You didn’t miss the exchange of grim looks between her and Cara. 

As you got changed, you contemplated what the next hour might look like for you. And as you were ushered out of your room and into the hallway, their silence indicated that it would not be good. 

__

You had been expecting the dungeon or maybe a toneless room that made you more  nervous than the Beast. However, for the first time throughout the entirety of this ordeal, you were pleasantly surprised. 

It looked like a cozy lounge room you’d see in the homes from the wealthier district of town. There were no windows, instead the walls were adorned with stacked shelving and intricate artworks hanging delicately from the space in between.You hadn’t seen real parchment in so long, the books of old and stories that you could physically touch. Holo-libraries had taken over well before your time, it wasn’t often you’d see a real book. 

There was a cushy arrangement of lounges, all leather and all black with an array of pillows scattered across the cushions. Had you not known any better, you would have though that this was someone’s safe haven. Maybe a quiet place to seek reprieve. 

But if you had been called there then you suspected this room, bathed in candlelight and a false sense of security, had been the last thing many women had seen. 

“I need to explain how this will work.” 

You jumped, whirling to face the doorway behind you. The Beast stood there, leaning against the doorway with folded arms and a solemn expression. 

“Maker,” you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, “you scared me.” 

The creature shot you a withering look and had this not been such a dire situation, you might have laughed. You were surprised to see that he wore none of his armour, just a black modified flight suit. There was a thick belt slung around his waist and a multitude of pockets fitted to the clothing, definitely re-made to suit the specifics of his lifestyle. You assumed that’s what he was wearing beneath all of that beskar and a shot of electricity pinched your spine. 

It was strangely intimate seeing him like this, completely bare and on display. Clearly, you were not a threat to the mighty protector of Nevarro and you only wished that he was not such a threat to you.

As those maroon eyes slid over your figure slowly from his place by the door, you scrambled for words to offer. 

“Well, how would we do this then?” You stammered, crossing your arms over your chest. You then realised that you were subconsciously mimicking him and promptly clasped your hands behind your back. 

The Beast dropped his head as he pushed off from the door frame, lazily approaching you. That same nausea you had felt at dinner began to tug at the depths of your stomach and you gulped down the sudden rush of dizziness assaulting your head. You wanted to leave, it was an abrupt sense of urgency telling you to flee, to run as fast as you could and never look back. But you knew what that was and you would not be a victim to that game. So, you grit your teeth and forced yourself to stand still as the monster drew closer. 

“You should sit,” he nodded towards the couch beside you both, hand hovering above your back as he guided you down. 

“Well,” you beckoned him to continue, your nerve slowly fizzling out the longer you sat pinned beneath that blood-red gaze. “Is there a needle? A blood donation?” 

The Beast scoffed, flicking away a stray curl that lay twisted by his lashes. The move was so human you were shocked by how easily this creature could pass as one of you. 

“I will need to bite you,” he said, clenching his jaw. You knew that. You had been hopeful that the options you’d suggested might have been enough for him, but you weren’t stupid. Those fangs that waited behind full lips were not for decoration. 

“Will it hurt?” You whispered, wringing your hands together in your lap. The Beast watched the movement for a second before responding. 

“Yes,” the creature hesitated, “it will be excruciating.” 

“Will it kill me?” You shuddered. 

“Not if you don’t try to run.” 

You stared at him for a long moment, the urge to flee so strong that you almost convinced yourself that you might escape him if you really tried. 

“There’s a procedure for this,” the Beast almost sounded as though he were trying to comfort you. “You won’t die. I could even make it painless.” 

You perked up, suddenly the thought of having someone tearing into your neck didn’t seem so bad if there was a way to take out the pain in the equation. 

“You can do that?” You rasped, relief flooding your system. 

The Beast leaned back against the lounge and dropped his gaze. When his fingers twitched and tapped against his lap, you realised that this ‘saving grace’ may not be what you’d hoped. 

“I have the ability to numb you,” the Beast nodded. 

“How?” You ventured warily, almost afraid to know the answer. 

The monster looked less like a monster and more like a man as he coughed uncomfortably. When he finally looked at you, his gaze lowered from your eyes to your lips. 

“I-” the Beast’s voice trailed off. “My kiss.” 

You blinked dumbly.

“The kiss will numb you.”

__

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[rqgnarok]

more than just a short time — jamie whelan

fandom: law & order organized crime

wc: 2,579 

warnings: SPOILERS for the season finale of law & order organized crime, canonical character death, canon mention of hospitals and violence. very self deprecating talk from a disabled character. ANGST. ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. female!reader

summary: Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose?

author’s note at the end.

Jamie doesn’t wanna see her.

She’s on her way up, Bobby tells him gently. Jamie wishes the surge of relief that courses through him wasn’t mixed up with the abhorrent need to send her away, be as rude as possible to have her leave the room before she comes to terms with what he’s become.

He doesn’t. Jamie nods at Reyes and licks his lips. He feels his eyes burn when the door opens to (Y/N) walking in, clutching the strap of her purse like it’s a lifeline, eyes wide and terrified and determined all at once. Bobby cups her elbow in silent support as he leaves the room, and Jamie swallows the mean words that try to climb up his throat at the sight of someone else doing what he can’t; comfort her, touch her, be the steadiness she needs in a moment of chaos.

Neither of them speaks as they’re left alone, a bubble of something-not-quite-peace enveloping them and making the outside world a mere blur at the other side of the doors. It’s only them and the ticking clock, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, and the lack of color and life one expects from this specific wing at Bellevue. 

They’d met in a bar around four years ago. Jamie had just made detective and some of his buddies at the four-nine were adamant about at least buying him some drinks in celebration. Just after finishing his first beer, another one had been delivered to the table, the waiter pointing to where (Y/N) was sitting at the bar, smile sheepish and face flushed at being caught. 

She’d heard them celebrating and figured there was no harm in inviting the next round. Jamie leaned into her space with a charming grin and said something stupid about being harmed by meeting someone so beautiful and not asking for their name. To this day (Y/N) calls it the worst pickup line she’s ever heard, but it got him a laugh and a date that very same weekend. 

It’s been good. It’s been great – the last time Jamie was so infatuated by someone he’d been thirteen and crushing after the next-door neighbor. He fell so hard for (Y/N) and simply kept falling as they moved in together before their second anniversary and started looking for rings a couple of months before he transferred to Organized Crime.

The development of their relationship has been both a whirlwind and the most obvious thing Jamie’s ever lived through. Of course he was supposed to meet her. Of course he fell in love with her from the very first night. He hasn’t been able to imagine his life without her since their first date. 

Jamie doesn’t want her here. Jamie needs her by his side. These are two things that have to coexist now, his new reality far from the idea he had for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t tell her to go.

“Hi, sweetheart,” (Y/N) talks first, breaking the silence and the distance between them all at once as if snapping out of a spell. She drops her things in the chair left behind by Bobby and is by his bed in an instant, hands hovering all over him like she’s unsure of what parts of him she can touch without hurting him. 

Jamie wills for his fingers to twitch, for his hand to wake the fuck up and reach for her, help her cross those last few inches she isn’t daring to do on her own. 

He remains limp against the bed. (Y/N) finally touches him, her fingers against his cheek. It’s enough for Jamie to shudder with a cry, turning his head so he can soak in the touch. She’s warm and steady against his skin and Jamie mourns his situation for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“Jamie,” she says, murmured and weepy. Jamie’s eyes close in agony but it feels too much like being dead already, so he opens them again. The sight that greets him is devastating: his almost-fiánce-never-to-be-wife, asking him for something he can’t give her. The lifetime together he’s been waiting to promise in his proposal has gone up in smoke in the blink of an eye.

It was the right thing to do. Jamie knew– not even the blinding pain that shocked through his nerves had been enough of a distraction to the urgency in Stabler’s voice– that the second Kyle died, the chance to put down Shadowerk would go with him. 

There really was nothing he could’ve done. The bullet had reached his spine the moment it entered his body. He was dead the second he walked into that godforsaken camp.

But (Y/N) hadn’t known that when she kissed him goodbye that morning. She’d stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck and joined their mouths together, tasting of toothpaste and languidly using her tongue to make him late for work.

“Hi,” he says, voice dry, trying not to sound as miserable as he is and failing. 

He’d already canceled a vacation on her earlier that week. A pre-honeymoon, he’d started calling it in his mind, maybe finally the right time to propose. He worries for a ridiculous moment if (Y/N)’s gonna be able to get a refund out of that, fretting terribly for what’ll happen to her after he’s gone.

He knows she can take care of herself but she’s not supposed to have to. Not while he’s alive and breathing.

Jamie’s overcome with how badly he wishes he’d called in sick. That he let (Y/N) drag him back to bed like she almost did and throw caution to the wind, burrow himself in her arms and her laugh, and leave the curtains drawn shut, embracing the safety of the darkness. He was so afraid of letting Bell and Stabler down, of having Reyes go out there without someone that cared for him watching his back, and where did that get him?

Without his body. Without a future with the love of his life.

The love of his life who can never find out what he asked of Bobby. Even if she loves him enough to do it for him– Jamie loves her too much to even ask. He won’t do that. He’s already planning on making her a widow, having her do it is just cruel. He made a promise a long time ago that he wouldn’t let the job make him someone he didn’t recognize and he’s not about to start bailing on it now.

Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose? Jamie almost suggests they get a priest in here and use Bobby as a witness, but (Y/N) deserves better than that. And she’ll find it someday, Jamie’s sure of it, with an accountant or a banker or someone with a boring job who doesn’t leave the house to get shot at and get paid too little for it. 

“My day sucked,” he jokes weakly despite the inner monologue that’s rushing through his brain, trying to get her to smile and his voice cracking with emotion in the process. (Y/N) struggles with it but she manages an upward tilt of the lips, eyes wet. 

His pretty girl, so fucking resilient.

“I bet,” she tells him. She doesn’t stop touching him, which Jamie appreciates as much as he does the effort at light conversation. “Office coffee was that bad, huh.” 

Jamie’s laugh turns into a sob so quickly that he reasons it wasn’t really ever a laugh. His fragile good humor is gone in an instant, lip wobbling and features scrunching in agonized despair.

“I’m sorry,” he cries earnestly and without restraint for the first time since his mom died, probably. He shuts his eyes but it does nothing to stop the flow once it's started and (Y/N) can’t wipe all his tears fast enough. “We should’ve gone on vacation, I shouldn’t have gone to work at all, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” she cuts him off, equally as devastated. “Honey, it’s alright, it’s okay. You were doing the right thing, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

He keeps apologizing anyway, fervently. Jamie isn’t strong enough to stop when (Y/N) starts to cry, too. She just holds him as best she can while they cry together. “You don’t deserve this, you don’t need less than half a–”

“You’re alive,” (Y/N) insists fiercely through tears. Jamie doesn’t tell her how this can’t be much of a life. “You came home to me, baby. That’s all that matters to me, you understand?”

Jamie hums an affirmative and keeps crying, and (Y/N) keeps soothing her fingers over his cheeks, his mouth, his temple, his hair. Jamie’s tremendously grateful for her, even if the need to make himself small and let (Y/N) hold him will never be satisfied again. 

“You’re not half of anything,” she continues to reassure him without room for discussion. “You’re my everything. My whole entire life, Jamie–”

“I kept thinking of you,” he weeps, his breaths coming fast and hurried without the usual feeling of his abdomen pulling with the force of his grief. “All the time I’m out there, all I do is think of you, and I thought this time, I– I– I–”

She says his name helplessly, pressing a fervent kiss to his temple while some of her tears fall into Jamie’s hair, her breath stuttering. (Y/N) wraps herself around him as best she can without disturbing his injuries and the machines that are keeping him alive, leaving her in a most awkward position she doesn’t complain about once. Jamie’s love for her is too strong to be contained inside his body.  

“I love you,” he tells her after enough time has passed that Jamie’s almost certain he won’t break into another sob. His voice quivers but that’s about it, and he thinks he’s allowed. (Y/N)’s fingers tremble against his temple. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she answers without hesitation, her voice a little shaky, too. She scratches at his hair and Jamie’s shiver is cut down to his neck. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t think we’ll make it to Alaska,” he tries not to scoff in disappointment because he knows (Y/N) won’t like it, and she proves him right when she purses her lips like she does when trying to convince herself not to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t be stupid,” she says, but it’s so, so soft it sounds like a term of endearment. Idiot, like honey, sweetheart, baby . “I don’t care about that. We can get shitfaced and take pictures with your thumb on the lens at home, you know.”

“Hey,” he says, trying and failing not to think about wedding rings at the bottom of champagne glasses or hidden in chocolate mousse cakes. He’s always made fun of people who think proposing with a choking hazard is a good idea but Jamie now aches for that stupidity, that normalcy that won’t ever be for him. He refuses to propose in a hospital room when he can’t even put a ring on her hand himself. “We probably won’t get a refund out of that.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) soothes. Nothing is, but Jamie lets her try. Maybe she’ll have better luck at pretending than he did. “I don’t mind.” 

They fall into silence and he almost goes to sleep under her hands, pacified to unconsciousness half due to exhaustion and half due to her presence: the calm in the middle of the storm. Jamie isn’t mad anymore, can’t be when she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

“I love you,” he can’t tell her enough, sleepy and quiet. The rush of air she lets out is the only indication that (Y/N) heard him. 

Breathing’s getting harder, already a chore, and now the thought of the device running out of batteries or accidentally disconnecting from where it's keeping him alive makes him anxious. (Y/N)’s worried, he can tell even if she almost never voices it because she refuses to make him feel guilty about doing the job he loves. Jamie wishes she’d tell him off, scream and cry at him and not bottle it all up. It’ll only be worse when he–

He says, "Want every day with you," with sharp breaths between each word because he's too exhausted to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There's a ring in my locker at the station that I've been waiting for the right moment to give to you. He doesn't say, every moment is right when we're together and I'm sorry I'm only realizing that when I’m unable to breathe on my own.

(Y/N) smiles, shaky and watery, and the most gorgeous sight Jamie’s seen in his life. She knows, and Jamie knows she does. The knot that had built up the whole time he'd struggled to stay awake, waiting for her in this hospital bed, loosens.

It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be alright, even if she’ll miss him. She’ll grieve and move on knowing, without a doubt, that Jamie loved her like he’s never loved anyone before. It’s enough for him. He can only hope it’s enough for her, too. 

“Honey,” she rouses him gently from an accidental slumber hours later, the sun that gave little light to the room now gone behind the horizon, (Y/N)’s fingers still caressing his face. She looks exhausted and worried and the most beautiful Jamie’s ever seen her. Her smile is brittle and shaky. “Your dad’s here. I didn’t want to wake you up, but–”

“‘s okay,” he tells her. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she says softly, hesitation clouding her features only for a second before she’s leaning in for a kiss, firm and lingering. Jamie exhales into it, something in his chest unfurling at the touch. He hadn’t realized they hadn’t kissed yet. “I’ll bring him in.”

“Wait,” he says, managing a boyish grin with lidded eyes. “Do that again.”

(Y/N)’s smile is bright, and Jamie’s glad to taste it when she goes in for another kiss on his mouth and then moves on to his cheek, his nose, his chin, his forehead. “Insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“God help me, I do,” she pats his chest carefully. “Let me go get your dad before he wonders what we’re doing in here.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and once last time because he can’t help himself. “I love you.”

(Y/N) turns from where she already had one foot out the door, expression tender. “I love you back. See you in a minute.”

Later, after crying in the safety of his dad’s presence like a little boy and saying his goodbyes, Jamie closes his eyes as his breaths begin to recede. The shrill sound of his heart monitor, the panic that takes over the room when he stops breathing, he’s aware of none of it. 

Behind his lids isn’t death, but the Northern Lights and (Y/N) underneath them, showered in colors and smiling at him like she did that first night in a bar, young and unknowing. She offers him her hand and Jamie takes it. Nothing hurts.

 ________

this fic snuck up on me ngl but the season finale fucking wrecked me. i’m still thinking about writing a fix it.

short (considering my standards lol) and somewhat sweet? hope you enjoyed and if u want tell me what u think!

<3 

masterlist / ao3 / buy me a coffee

#leo writes #law and order #organized crime #l&o: oc #jamie whelan #bobby reyes #brent antonello #rick gonzalez #elliot stabler #chris meloni #ayanna bell #danielle moné truitt #jet slootmaekers #ainsley seiger #the most unnecessary death in the l&o universe and that's saying SOMETHING #mike dodds i am talking about you one day ill avenge you #law and order imagine #reader insert #female reader #jamie x reader #jamie whelan imagine #jamie whelan x reader #law and order x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

[taccobelle]

WELCOME TO MY BOOK CLUB 📚

First rule about The Book Club? talk about The Book Club!

Here in TaccoBelle's book club 📚 is where I will keep a collection of all my favorite recent reads and their authors, in no particular order!

I can't always help in more impactful ways, like commissions, but I can definitely share the content!

if you'd like to join my book club give send an ask! let's make a community of these awesome reads!!

Disclaimer: due to some suspicious and disgusting events happening on this site involving a minor, I feel the obligation to reinforce that most, if not all, of these stories are 18+. They contain content that is NOT suitable for minors, so please do not interact! Mature themes will/may be discussed in these stories that is definitely not appropriate for minors.

TaccoBelle's Book Club

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader

Author: @radioactiveparker

Summery: Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently. And when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

What to expect: Enemies to lovers / All Characters Are 18+ / Strong Language / Sex References / Mentions of Abuse (physical and emotional) / Cheating / Bad Relationships / Dysfunctional Families / Arguing / Materialism / Kleptomania / Stereotyping / Sexual Orientations / Drug Use / Mentions of Alcohol / Smoking / Pyromania and Fire / References to Demonianism and Satanism / References to Religious Beliefs / Social Alienation / Angst / Hurt-Comfort / Use of Y/N (like once or twice) / Eddie is a complete asshole

“A/N: This mini series is set in its own little world, so it does not follow the Stranger Things timeline, and I have taken some creative liberties with most characters. Yes, they are all still in high school (final year and 18+), and yes, some of the events don't match up - just forget everything you knew about Stranger Things, it's easier that way haha.”

My thoughts: I am in absolute love with this series and can’t wait for updates ! I am so obsessed with the Breaksfast Club narrative, the enemies to lovers, the popular girl x school freak. It’s so enticing and I am a sucker for it! But what the author does that I am loving is that they set themselves apart from the original movie, js the interaction of the reader with other characters, I won’t spoil it, but it’s a little heartbreaking 💔 from the little that I have read from the 3 chapters so far, it is great!

Not Very Noble

Author: @allthingsjoeq

Summery: Your kingdom is placed under threat of liquidation, the villagers crying out for help as each day they enter greater poverty. As their princess you have been chosen to amend the broken monarchy, creating a truce between the neighbouring royals, and fulfilling a marriage decided by the King. A low-ranking knight and Princess both from reverse backgrounds thrusted together against choice, they descend into a journey of Hate, Lust and Love all while caught in between a circle of lies.  

What to expect: Knight Eddie x Princess Reader Disclaimer: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, eventual fluff, light smut to come. Royal and medieval references but they may not all be 100% accurate.

My thoughts: I have a huge fascination with Medieval things, and think there isn’t nearly enough Eddie Munson Medieval themed AU’s and I think that’s a problem! This in particular is so well written, so beautifully put, it made me weep, and cry like a big baby from reading this, and it’s not even complete yet!!!!!! Y’all KNOW how much I buss down for an Enemies to Lovers trope 😩 I really hope they update this soon because I am patiently waiting 🥹

Not Wholly Evil

Author: @uglypastels

Summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

What to expect: "semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

My thoughts: I LOVE me some pirate au, I think it is so incredibly fitting for Eddie to be set in this role. It is still on-going so it only has 2 chapters, but that was enough to make me sign up for the tag list!! It’s is beautifully written, the descriptions are so good it makes me feel like I am IN the Hellfire ship. Super excited to see where this is take me, and I hope they update it soon because it’s my new obsession!

Turtle dove and the crow

Author: @blue-mossbird

Summary: You’ve known Edward Munson since he moved into the farm next door with his uncle - eight years old, odd, and utterly intriguing to you. For ten years, you’ve known him, and over that time, he’s become your best friend. But now, in the dreamy haze of August heat, you begin to know him in a different way. And in this process of knowing and becoming known, lives will be irrevocably changed.

What to expect: 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending. oral (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink.

My thoughts: holy shit my dudes, I think I found my new hyper fixation, to add to the list of stories I will check daily for updates! This is only the first episode and it already has me in a death grip 🫥 I am in love with 1940’s due to Bucky Barnes, and mixing Eddie in with that aesthetic threw me for a loop!! This is not the fic for you if you want cannon content, it is clearly set in another world, a different decade, and seems to me like it’s Eddie’s personality adapted for a 1940’s farm boy view, and I think I’m in love. Plus my fantasy of being a southern Belle (that’s my name if you didn’t know) is in an all time high with this. I can already picture all of the angst and all the crying in my bed at 2am this story will bring me, and I’m so excited 🤩

June Baby

Author: @luveline

Summary: you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors

What to expect: teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is Junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, Eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning, etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slow-burn friends to lovers, you wash Eddie’s hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

My thoughts: Honest to god, this is one o the best writing I have ever read on this app. The way Jade uses her words to describe the scenes, ughhhhhhh I can't explain, but Jade writes like a scene of a movie. It does not feel like the supporting characters don't feel like they seize to exist as soon as the main characters move on to a different scene. I love how the supporting characters are all incredibly detailed, feel like real people, and have real people reactions to things; weird, I know, haha. I love how much I adore this story so much. it does not feel like a simple fic, like I would invest in a start-up for this to be published into an actual book. It is so good, so sweet. I absolutely adore this story. It makes my heart do three summersaults per second every time Jade posts a new chapter, the characters have my fucking heart 🥺

Meet The Munsons

Author: @mypoisonedvine

Summary: you were barely acquaintances in high school, but his reputation as a delinquent and freak didn't exactly endear you to him. now he's moving in. at the risk of being too literal: oh, brother.

What to expect: kind of incest, but not really? male masturbation, swearing, mentions/implications of a deceased parent, reader is a tad judgmental but that's what character development is for!

My thoughts: I have read and re-read this story about three times. If I'm not mistaken, this is the only complete one on this list. I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! it made me so giddy. a grown woman giggling and kicking my feet like a little girl. I love the evolution of the characters and the way, slowly but surely, their feelings start to slip out, and by the end, you are totally like, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST HOLD HANDS, I BEG OF YOU. Not gonna lie, the "kind of incest" threw me off at first, but then you find out that they aren't actually related in no way possible; the reader's mom marries Uncle Wayne, and they are not raised together, so their not that weird situation of raised like siblings, which would make it really weird when they make out pretty heavily. Can't believe I'm defending incest.

The "Yes" Policy

Author: @pinkrelish

Summary: After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.

What to expect: slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine, but Eddie's just tired, reader and Eddie are mid-late 20's

My thoughts: This fic singlehandedly made me fall in love with the sunshine x grumpy trope, the thought of Eddie being a girl dad makes my heart double in size. Him being a single dad, Wayne being grandpapi is too cute! them doing their best to provide the best for their little princess, and the relationship between Miss Mouse and Adrie has my heart.

To Have and To Scold

Author: @icallhimjoey

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

What to expect: CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

My thoughts: I don’t usually like reading real person fics, like when the character is actually a real life person, I much prefer a fictional character because otherwise sometimes I get weirded out. That being said, I decided to give this fic a try, and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the story. I picked it up and couldn’t put the phone down till I finished! The characters are engaging, and story is so sweet 🫶🏼

Bad Idea

Author: @lunarzstarz

Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…

What to expect: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread) Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader

My thoughts: smut, plain smut. And I love it. Eddie is kind of a dickhead, not gonna lie, but then he starts to show signs of falling for the reader, regular shmegular lowkey toxic trope, but I love it!!!!

Crayons and Cassettes

Author: @comfort-writing

Summary: You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. She bonds with you instantly, and Eddie is trying not to do the same.

What to expect: his fic will be 18+ in later chapters, so minors DNI! In this chapter, it is mentioned that rumors about Eddie still linger. no use of y/n. I can think of nothing else for this chapter because it’s just an introductory one, but please let me know if I missed anything!

My thoughts: I have not finished this fic yet, but s far it is amazing!! Eddie is so nervous and so sweet, but still nerdy, and charming.

Honey I'm Home

Author: @trashmouth-richie

Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

What to expect: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace.

My thoughts: I honestly fell in love with this story, it is so mysterious, and so touching, funny, endearing, and most of all, a big tease. I fell in love with these characters, and their personalities, how they are together, and how the interact with one another. The idea of an older protective Eddie, that is conflicted with the thoughts of seeing Tooty as a little girl, but now she is a grown woman is mesmerizing to read, and Richie does an amazing job at writing it all so well.

Disjointed

Author: @boomhauer

Summary: Nurse!Reader is reunited with her high school crush in the emergency room. Faced with a lifetime worth of debt, she helps Eddie in the only way she can.

What to expect: Fake marriage. Friends to lovers. Medical trauma. Lemon/Smut. Angst. Slow burn. No Vecna!!

My thoughts: This a new type of fic for me, I had never read anything in the nursing realm, an amazing first! I appreciate the reality of it all, from what I understand the author has personally experienced some of these scenarios, and im guessing has been/is a nurse practitioner, so makes for an extremely believable, and amusing plot!!

Twenty Four Hours

Author: @ghost-proofbaby

What to expect: modern!Eddie Munson x fem!reader, uses female pronouns on occasion. strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

Summary: in which Eddie Munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty-four hours consecutively together? modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

My Thoughts: I love Enemies to Lovers trope!! This fic is full of stunning writing, amazing visual descriptions of feelings, and hot-ass characters! this made me cry on multiple occasions, in a good way! Though I am a crybaby. Eddie is such a sweetheart in this, and mean in some chapters, but it's all for the feels!!

Smoke Signals

Author: @eddies-house

What to expect: Grumpy!Eddie Munson x shy!reader, uses female pronouns on occasion, strong language, eventual smut, PTSD, trauma, talks about trauma, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, minors dni, set in a town other than Hawkings

Summary: Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

My Thoughts: I love Enemies to Lovers trope! That much isn't any news to you guys! This fic is so lovely written, I love how real the characters feel, and how immersed I was in reading this, I am so related to the character because I too am a crybaby. Eddie is such a sweetheart in this, I just want Bambi to hug and kiss him 🥹, and mean in some chapters, but it isn't in a toxic sort of way.

Begin Again

Author: @abibliophobiaa

What to expect: Eddie’s post-S4 trauma; panic attacks; nightmares; family member loss; grief; alcohol use; mild smut in later chapters, so 18+; additional warnings to be added. Eddie Munson x afab!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes

Summary: The year is 1988. After the loss of a beloved family member, you find yourself inheriting an old coffee shop. The quiet bartender at the Hideout across the street just so happens to catch your eye.

My Thoughts: you know that I love sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes! This fic is so nicely written, It has long chapters which I fiend for, I absolutely adore it when a fic has 20K words in one chapter, it only has 4 of them because it takes place as a chapter for each season, which is generous btw, wish I'd thought of this!

Beast of Burden

Author: @neonghostlights

What to expect: Fuckboy!Werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni

Summary: (doesn't really have a summary, but this post the author made pretty much sums up) "I’m thinking about fuckboy!werewolf Eddie. Let’s say he’s gotten around with every girl in Hawkins because he never thought he’d have a mate. That was until you, a human, showed up and proved him wrong. Now he has to find a way to prove himself to you."

My Thoughts: yeah! fucking sue me, I like werewolf fanfictions! I can't really blame it all on Twilight, except I absolutely will blame it all on Twilight. But I swear this is really cute, and I live for it!

#taccobelle #belle's book club #fanfiction #tumbler fan fiction #authors note #eddie munson #bookworm #stranger things #full masterlist #masterlist #eddie munson masterlist #pirates #pirate! Eddie Munson #1940’s! au Eddie Munson #pirate!eddie #eddie munson medieval au #enemies to lovers #slow burn #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x enemies! reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson mechanic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x innocent!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x afab reader #grumpy!Eddie Munson