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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 8 months

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Meet Me On The Courtyard | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Spencer getting shot in Texas, mentions of stalkers, fluff!

Words: 3.418

After living in his apartment for years, Spencer thought he would’ve seen about everything and everyone.

But he would’ve remembered seeing her.

At first, Spencer thought he was dreaming, too tired from the case he had just gotten home from that it made him delusional. She was dancing across her living room in shorts and a baggy T-shirt, her hair scraped back into the messiest of buns, and a glass of wine swirling around in her hand.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he watched her for a good minute until he realized how creepy he must look.

Ever since seeing her for the first time, his eyes kept glancing back to the apartment across the courtyard. It brought a smile to his face to see her dancing around her place or pacing as she called her friends or simply mulling about her place. Witnessing as she went about her day, he felt more and more connected to her, which made him sound like a creepy voyeur.

He didn’t quite know how to approach her. Knocking on her door wasn’t quite the option as that would come off as creepy and he didn’t have any luck of bumping into her in the lobby of their apartment building.

On one of his rare days off, Spencer sat in his apartment, reading a book with the window open. He was laser-focused on the words he was reading until the sweet, melodic sounds of someone singing along loudly interrupted that. Confused, yet almost certain about who it was, he placed a finger between his book to keep his spot and made his way over to the window. His gut instinct was proven right once again. The girl from the apartment across from his was cleaning her apartment with her music blasting and her singing along.

“You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyeAnd I got that red lip classic thing that you likeAnd when we go crashing down, we come back every time'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of sty–”

The last note came out in a shriek as her eyes landed on the guy across the courtyard, startled by the sudden figure in the window across from her. Spencer’s own eyes widened as he realized he had made her jump before holding up his hands in an attempt at an apology.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he said, making sure to enunciate as she probably wouldn’t be able to hear him.

The bubbly Taylor Swift song continued in the background as she clutched at her heart, trying to get it to calm down. Spencer took the time to reach for a notepad and a pen, and wrote down a message to her.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you!”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment before holding her finger up and reaching for something on the side. When she turned her head back towards him, she placed a pair of glasses on her nose to be able to read the message. Her answer came in the form of a shrug of her shoulders.

At least she wasn’t repulsed by him.

Spencer quickly scribbled down his next message, making sure to make his letters big enough for her to read.

“I’m not a creepy stalker, promise.”

A laugh bubbled up from her chest, though he couldn’t hear it due to the distance between them and the Taylor Swift song blasting in her apartment. He felt his lips curl up into a smile. He couldn’t wait to hear that laugh in real life.

The girl held her finger up again and disappeared for a good five seconds before returning with a notepad of her own. As she wrote down her own message, Spencer noticed how a tingle traveled from his stomach all the way to his toes and to the back of his neck. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“All creepy stalkers say that”

She had drawn a winky face at the end of the sentence. Throwing his head back, Spencer let out a loud, genuine laugh.

“Why are you talking to me then?” he wrote next.

With a smile on her face, the girl wrote down an answer. “I have seen you around, Mr. FBI.”

An involuntary blush crept up his cheeks. She had seen him around. She knew he was an FBI Agent. She had kept an eye on him as much as he had kept an eye out on her. The idea in itself sounded completely insane to him, but then again Spencer had once fallen in love with a girl he had never seen before. The fact that he was so infatuated with this girl without knowing her name wasn’t all that surprising, considering.

“I’m Spencer.” Spencer wrote and drew a smiley face behind his name.

She gave him a cutesy wave while the corners of her mouth seemed to be stuck in that ever glowing smile. “I’m Y/N.”

Spencer offered her a wave as well, his smile mirroring hers. There was something about her that drew him to her. He wasn’t sure what it was. The smile, the bubbly persona he had witnessed over the last couple of weeks, her willingness to talk to him, her keeping an eye on him without him even noticing. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to talk to her. Face-to-face.

Giddily, he ducked down to write his next message and when he came back up to show it to her, the message she held out for him was the exact same as what he had written for her.

“Meet me on the courtyard?”

His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as he scrambled to get downstairs. His book long forgotten, he quickly put on shoes and grabbed his keys before rushing down to the courtyard where he finally saw her from up close. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined her being.

She had exchanged her shorts for a pair of jeans and the T-shirt tucked in messily. Her messy bun had come out, allowing her locks to cascade over her shoulders like a waterfall. It was only then when Spencer noticed how beautiful her eyes were. Her eyes rivaled the sun, shimmering so brightly and provided him with so much warmth.

“Hi,” she greeted with a tender, nervous smile.

“Hey,” he greeted back before motioning towards the stone bench beside them.

Chuckling, y/n took a seat and Spencer quickly followed, making sure to keep some distance between them. He didn’t want to scare her by sitting too close. They didn’t know each other at all, so giving up his personal space so soon wasn’t in the cards for him yet.

“You have a beautiful singing voice,” he complimented, remembering her rendition of Style.

Before she looked down at her hands in her lap, Spencer caught a glimpse of her flustered cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said. “I-I used to be in choir when I was a kid, so… I suppose I did learn a thing or two when I was there.” Her eyes flicked up to his. “Sorry if I disturbed… Whatever you were doing.”

Shaking his head, Spencer told her, “No, you didn’t. I was reading, but it was a nice distraction.”

“What were you reading?” She sounded genuinely interested.

“Something Wicked This Way Comes,” he replied honestly and her eyes brightened even more than he thought was possible. “I-It’s one of my favorites.”

Her hand landed on his forearm in excitement as she said, “It’s mine too!” and then lapsed into her honest review of the book. Spencer clung onto every word, relaxed at the lilt of her voice and answered any and all questions she had about his opinion on the book.

When she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, Spencer realized how late it had gotten. The sun had started to set, casting a gloomy shadow over the courtyard. Talking to her seemed to have made the time slip away. Spencer didn’t want it to end, but neither of them had brought a sweater, so they were doomed to retreat back to their apartments sooner than either of them wanted.

“You cold?” he asked and fought the urge to wrap his arms around her.

She nodded her head. “Yeah, a little. But it’s fine,” she said as she suppressed a yawn.

A chuckle rolled off his lips. “It’s fine if you wanna go inside. We’ve been talking for hours and I have to be in the office pretty early tomorrow anyway.”

She offered him a thankful smile as she got up from the bench and he followed her example. The two of them made their way back into the lobby where she turned to him. “It was nice talking to you, Spencer. I would like to pick your genius brain more often.”

“I’d like that,” Spencer said, his smile quickly mirroring hers again.

After giving him a quick wave and that ever-present smile of hers, she turned on her heel and walked up the stairs to her side of the building. Spencer stayed put and watched her for a little while until he couldn’t see her anymore before retreating to his own apartment.

Never in his life had he met someone who shared his opinions on books, who rivaled his rambling, whose intelligence made his IQ waver. In his mind, he thanked Taylor Swift for bringing them together. If it weren’t for her, Spencer doubted they would’ve ever started talking.

That night sparked a series of events. Ever since that day, they’d meet in the courtyard every single day. Sometimes in the morning and then either one of them would roll up with fresh coffee, sometimes in the evening with cups of calming tea.

Their meetups quickly evolved from the cold courtyard to one of their apartments. They’d watch movies, read the same books so they could talk about it afterwards even though he always finished long before she did, they made dinner for one another, …

Whatever the day was, they’d spend it together and talk about everything and anything they could think of. Talking to her had to be his favorite way to pass time. Life suddenly made complete sense whenever Spencer was around her. No matter what sort of horror he had witnessed on the cases he worked, it all seemed to vanish from his memory whenever he met up with her again.

And whenever Spencer was gone, she’d make sure his plants survived his absence, she got his mail so the mailbox wouldn’t overflow. Whenever she was gone for work, he would do the exact same for her.

In the span of a few months, Y/N became Spencer’s best friend, and he couldn’t deny the feelings that had grown in his heart.

Though he would never tell her that.

After living in her apartment for a good year, y/n thought she would’ve seen about everything and everyone.

But she would’ve remembered seeing him.

She’d catch glimpses of him across the yard in his apartment, mulling about his house with a book in his hand. Every time she did, she wondered what book he was reading and what he thought of it. There was something about him that drew her attention.

The day she caught him looking at her when she was dancing around her living room whilst cleaning and belting along to Taylor Swift, was the best day. She loved how easy it was to talk to him and how intelligent he was. She loved picking his brain and listening to all the facts he knew about the most random things.

Becoming friends with Spencer Reid was about the best thing that could’ve happened to her.

He was there for her on her bad days as much as she was there for his. When the two of them spent time together, time seemed to just slow down and everything around them vanished. When it was the two of them together, nothing else mattered.

Over the course of a couple of months, y/n couldn’t deny the chills she got with every single touch, how her brilliance simply turned to dust whenever he merely smiled at her.

While Spencer was out on a case in Texas, y/n went down to his apartment often after work to water his plants and get his mail out. Though he told her not to do it, y/n was happy to. Sometimes, she’d even leave little sticky notes or she’d leave him the book she’d just read, so he could read it too.

She was in his apartment when she received a call from Jennifer Jarau, Spencer’s co-worker. Y/N had seen Spencer’s co-workers a couple of times before, but never had they called her before. Her heart plummeted to her stomach. The fact that JJ was calling her didn’t scream ‘good news’.

“JJ?” Y/N spoke into the phone, her voice dripping with confusion.

JJ sighed, “Y/N… I, uhm… Spence, he–”

The mail slipped out of her hands, envelopes scattering everywhere. Her mind was racing with questions and scenarios. She couldn’t imagine what was going on with Spencer, but she knew her best friend was hurting and she wasn’t there.

“What happened?” she asked and without hesitation, she headed back to her own place while JJ explained what had happened.

There wasn’t much y/n understood about what happened. All she heard was ‘open fire’, ‘gun shot’, ‘Spence got hit in the neck’, ‘surgery’. It was enough for her to understand she needed to head to Texas.

“Text me which hospital he’s in. I’m coming to Texas,” y/n told JJ and after JJ’s agreement, y/n hung up and rushed out of her apartment with everything she needed. With her heart beating in her throat, y/n took the next best flight over to Texas and rushed towards the hospital JJ had texted her.

Y/N wasn’t even too sure where she was going. With fear and anxiety selectively blinding her, she made a beeline for the front desk.

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. I’m looking for Spencer Reid,” she told the woman behind the desk.

“Y/N!” JJ’s familiar voice called and as y/n turned around, JJ ran up to her with worry flooding her eyes. The blonde wrapped her arms around her, allowing her lungs to deflate with the breath she had been holding.

“How is he? Is he okay?” y/n asked in one breath.

“Yeah, he’s just out of surgery. You can go see him.”

A single tear rolled down y/n’s cheek before she stepped away from JJ. “Thank you for calling me.”

“Spence asked for you,” JJ told her honestly. “When-when he was in the ambulance. He asked for you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, y/n tried a careful smile. She was scared if she allowed her lips to fully curl up, it would take Spencer away from her.

“Go,” JJ encouraged, softly pushing her towards Spencer’s room.

With a nervous pep in her step, y/n made her way towards Spencer. She could feel the nerves bundle up in her chest. Though she knew what had happened, she didn’t know how she was going to find him. She halted in the doorway, her eyes landing on Spencer, who was lying in the hospital bed with a gauze patched to the right side of his neck. He looked peaceful as he slept, though I noticed the bags under his eyes. Somehow, he still managed to look beautiful.

“Y/N,” Penelope whispered when her eyes landed on me. Alex turned in her chair, offering me a kind smile whilst the peppy blonde embraced me in a tight hug.

“How’s he doing?” she asked, entering the room further with Penelope to move closer to Spencer.

“Very tired and drowsy from the painkillers,” Alex replied. “He’s in and out of it.”

Y/N simply nodded her head, telling Spencer’s co-workers that she did hear them but didn’t have the energy to really respond. Alex and Penelope exchanged glances without y/n even noticing, and they got up and left the room to leave her alone with Spencer.

Inching closer towards the patient, y/n wiped away a tear before using the same hand to stroke his hair out of his face. “God dammit, Spence,” she whispered, sniffling.

Spencer’s lashes fluttered against his cheeks before she was allowed a peek at his honey-colored eyes again. A lazy smile landed on his lips. “Y/N,” he mumbled and shifted slightly, but then immediately hissed at how painful the movement was.

“Hey, relax,” she cooed. Her hand moved back through his hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that I see you.” His voice sounded thick with sleep as he stopped her hand from going through his hair and kissed her palm. “Can’t believe you came.”

Wiping her thumb against his cheek, she offered him a sad smile. “Of course I came. You got hurt.”

“I love you,” he admitted drowsily before falling back to sleep.

Y/N’s heart skipped a few beats at the sweet confession coming from his sleepy lips. Though he could still mean the words in a platonic way, it still made her insides go putty.

The admission haunted her mind for a good day until she got him home safe and sound, and she could ask about it. A bundle of nerves settled in her chest as she placed Spencer’s bag down and helped him settle on the sofa.

“How are you feeling?” she asked sweetly as she handed him a glass of water and his painkillers.

Spencer groaned a little before taking the medication. “I’m all right, you know, considering.” He offered her a tender smile. “Thank you for being here.” Reaching over, Spencer enveloped her hand in his, entwining their fingers together.

“Spence… Can I ask you something?” Spencer hummed in response. “In the hospital… You told me… You told me you loved me. I-I’m just not sure what to make of it?”

The corners of his mouth curled up. “Do you remember the first time we met? How I was looking at you through the window like a true stalker?”

“Gave me a heart attack,” y/n chuckled, trying to read his honey eyes to try and figure out where he was going with this.

“I had stolen a couple glimpses at you before that, too. When you were just mulling about your apartment or when you danced around the living room with a glass of wine or when you cooked… I didn’t know your name and I hadn’t seen you up close yet, but from watching you just live your life, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I’ve been infatuated with you ever since and getting to know you – actually getting to know you, up close and personal – it just made that infatuation grow to a love so pure and so grand, that I couldn’t keep that secret to myself anymore. I’ve fallen in love with you, y/n. And you don’t need to feel compelled to say it back. It’s fine if you don’t. I just– I figured you should know.”

Tears lined y/n’s eyes as she listened to him talk. No one in her short life had ever told her words quite as beautiful as his. It warmed her heart and melted it into a puddle. She had been so scared to tell him how she really felt, scared he wouldn’t feel the same, scared it would ruin the friendship. All while he was feeling the exact same thing.

“I love you too, Spence.” The words came out in a whisper as though it was a secret.

“You don’t have to–”

“I have to,” she cut him off quickly. “Because it’s true. You’re not the only one with stalker-tendencies, Mr. FBI,” y/n joked, causing him to let out a laugh, only for him to hiss in pain straight after.

“Laughing hurts,” he whined. “Don’t make me laugh again.”

Smiling, y/n leaned in closer and as her lips ghosted his, she whispered, “I can’t make such promises.”

And then y/n kissed her best friend on the couch of his apartment. The one right across from hers.

If they hadn’t decided to meet on the courtyard so many months ago, neither of them would experience the bliss that was kissing one another.

And all because of a Taylor Swift song.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds

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whiskeynwriting · 9 months

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Pretty Boy

John “Soap” McTavish x Scottish!Female Reader

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, size kink for SURE, oral sex (f receiving, brief mention of m receiving), squirting, PDA, fluffiessss, aftercare, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, some hair pulling (baby boy receiving), biting/marking, possessive Johnny (BABY)

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A/N: Johnny is younger here and early in his military life, maybe two-ish years 🥰 There’s also some Scottish Gaelic in here! As always, with the translations (:

Thank you @thesleepingmusicneek for beta-reading once again 😊

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John “Soap” McTavish Masterlist

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It’s comforting, coming here, especially under the pretense of genuine fun. No longer visiting just to drink away your worries, indulging to simply forget. No, the first six months were filled with that, and afterwards, you’d had enough. You needed to live.

Pushing yourself to be active within your town’s nightlife was difficult at first. Before he left, there wasn’t a night where you’d make an appearance here without him. That extroverted energy was so abundant that it flowed to you, too. But being here alone is nice, it’s new, and serves as a fairly decent distraction. It’s also helped you cope with meeting new people, friends and those with the possibility of being something more. You’ve yet to entertain that idea yet, though, the… something more. That, you still couldn’t get past.

“Hey, love! Drinking tonight?”

“Why else would I be here?” Returning with your own question, the bartender grins.

With a shrug, Duncan responds, “Could be my good looks.”

“Yeah, yer bum’s oot the windae.” In short, yeah right. He often made you laugh, always being one to joke. “I’ll have some Scotch.” And just as he walks away, you specify, “Speyside.”

The atmosphere is lively tonight, as it often was on a Friday. In this particular pub, the lights dimmed when night rolled around, offering a moody ambiance. The music didn’t slow, though, the band only continued the same spirited songs. Here, you felt welcomed, you felt like you belonged. Surrounded by your heritage, traditional tunes and familiar faces, tart liquor and raucous voices. Smiling and conversing with your friends came easy, the small town allowing you to know just about everybody in the vicinity.

Friends from secondary school were enough of a distraction, pulling you aside for shots and dances. Even strangers made their way into your groups, becoming kin by the night’s end.

“His name’s Alex!”

Glancing over at the red-haired man, you force a smile on your lips. “Good to know.”

“He’s fancied you for a while, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know…” It couldn’t be more obvious, and neither could your disinterest.

The mere thought of fucking another man was honestly repulsing to you. And sure, you don’t have to fuck him, but that’s certainly where any night with Alex will head. Besides, you’re still so used to him, your Johnny. It hasn’t even been that long since you last had him. Longer than usual, but short enough to still remember.

“I’m gonna, uh…” Eyes darting to the side, you gulp. “Go to the bathroom.”

She feels bad, your friend, knowing she pressured you a bit. But she can’t help it, she just wants you to get over him. And everyone here agrees. There’s little chance of him coming back, you should just get used to that. And maybe you will, in your own time.

With slow steps, you take your time getting to the washroom, trying your best to keep your spirits light. It’s a night out, after all, this should be fun. And it was before that eejit came along to ruin it. He didn’t even do anything but he honestly doesn’t have to. He’s made enough unwelcome advances to deter you.

Just as you’re beginning to dwell in your sadness, you pass by the wall of polaroids lining this short hallway. It was Duncan’s idea, taking photos of all the regular patrons. Instantly, you’re drawn toward the picture of both you and him, that night a memory you still hold dearly to your chest. The pair of you look like absolute fools, you’re surprised you remember anything from that night.

“Now, right now!”

Your ribs ached from laughter as he pulled you in his direction, stumbling over your own feet like a little baby.

“Wait!” A hiccup popped from your throat, which made Johnny snicker. “I’m fair puckled!” Holding your stomach, you took in a few lungfuls of air, regaining your breath. But Johnny didn’t care.

“C’mon, bonnie.” He insisted, hauling an arm around your shoulder.

With your chuckles subsiding, you stood beside him, posing for Duncan to take your picture. Reaching down, Johnny grabbed your jaw with his dominant hand, pinching your cheeks and bringing your head closer to him. Your hands clinged to his side as he placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, and that’s just when the photo was taken. Johnny all over you, pressing his lips to your face while your eyes pinched shut with a happy grin.

“My sweet bonnie.” He always said.

After your trip, you return to the bar, sick and tired of dancing and interacting. Inside, you’re not sure how to feel. The memories you have of Johnny are bittersweet. So much love and friendship, for all of it to dissipate into simply… nothing. Or at least, that’s what your friends would have you believe.

“Two glasses of Scotch, Dunc.”

As soon as that voice hits the air, your eyes widen, instantly flashing over to Duncan’s. While towel-drying one of the bsr’s glasses, he grins, giving you a knowing nod.

“Speyside.” The voice then specifies, finally prompting you to turn your head.

And standing beside you, leaning against the bar’s edge, is a taller, broad man. Arms lined with tan and sculpted muscles, smile bright and blue eyes even brighter. But the part that stands out the most, the part that makes him… him, is that longer stripe of hair running across the top of his head.

“Johnny!” Squealing his name, you throw yourself into his arms, already open and waiting.

“Bonnie,” That deep chuckle vibrates through his chest and into your own, smile growing evermore. The familiar scent of sweet patchouli wafts from his body, chiseled muscles holding you against his chest. Your entire body tenses with excitement, butterflies erupting in your belly when he tucks his head into your neck - he still loves me.

“You’re back.” Your tone wavers a bit as you say it, feeling his nose nuzzle lightly against your skin. Lifting your hand, your fingers brush through the longer air at the nape of his neck, standing on your tip-toes to fully encircle your arms around him. His body feels firm, sturdy and muscular, even more so than before.

“Yeah,” He says with a soft voice, rubbing your back fondly. “Few months late, but who’s countin’?”

Leaning back, you scoff, giving his hardened chest a little smack. “Me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny quips, rolling his eyes as he pulls you back in. “All in the past. I’m home now, baby.”

With the way you’re speaking to each other, you’d think you were still together. But that’s not how things are, not anymore. Not… officially. But with him returning home every six months, you’d come to expect these “surprise” arrivals.

“I was starting to think you’d never come back.” Admitting quietly, you release a contented breath. This time around, six months turned to ten, and your hopes were quickly deflated. And the advice and comments of your friends didn’t help.

“Hey,” He chastises lightly, frowning. “Don’t give up on me that easily.”

Sliding the glasses onto the bartop, Duncan pushes one toward you, and one toward him. With stars in your eyes, you watch Johnny lift the glass, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a swig. His biceps flex slightly as he lifts and lowers the cup, the gray fabric around his midsection hugging him tightly. The way his dark jeans tighten around his hips and ass also draws your attention, already obsessed with him all over again. And that mohawk, that signature look all gelled up and styled. A fairly new hairdo he’s kept for nearly a year now, and you’d be lying to say you don’t fancy it.

Taking a seat beside you at the bar, Johnny converses with Duncan, catching up with his old friend. And Lord, all you can do is stare; how you missed him. Even after so many months apart, you find him captivating - that dazzling smile, those beautiful, bright blue eyes. How could one man be so goddamn handsome? So pretty?

“Been keeping after her while I’m gone, Dunc?” Johnny quips, eyeing you from the side.

“Aye,” He nods, chuckling. “She’s been sendin’ all the boys home with their tails between their legs.”

“Ohh,” Fully turning toward you, he raises his brows. “Have you now?”

The boy's small compliments make a light heat warm your cheeks, and Johnny can tell. Reaching out, he taps your chin, giving you a small wink.

“Can’t blame them for tryin’ though, can I? Still just as beautiful, lass…” Leaning forward, he smooths his dominant hand over the top of your thigh, adding in with a quieter tone, “And just as fit.”

Your jaw drops into a wide grin, scoffing. “John Malcolm.” Scolding him playfully, you reach out, tapping the bulging muscle of his arm. And you suddenly find yourself wishing to touch it, hold his arm and squeeze it.

Duncan leaves the two of you be, knowing how long you’ve waited for this. He’s honestly the only one that still held out hope. The rest of your friends take account of Johnny’s presence, choosing to stay to themselves, as well. Looks like they were proven wrong.

“So, is life better in the military?” There’s a bit of humor in your voice, and a dash of flirtation on your lips. And while you try to make yourself seem confident and enticing, the fact that his hand still hasn’t moved from your thigh has you melting.

He shrugs, smiling. “I think so, yeah. Still missin’ you, though, lass.”

“Yeah, sure.” Looking back down at your glass, the warmth in your cheeks has now spread to your ears and neck. You hope he’s telling the truth. “What’s your rank now?”

“Corporal.” Pride positively blooms within him, happy that you asked. “Hoping to rise to Sergeant.”

“Impressive.” Tilting your head, you offer him a cheeky expression, eyeing him up and down.

“Still like what you see?” Johnny teases, fingers stroking the fabric of your jeans.

“Very much so.” It’s like every time he came home, he was that much bigger, that much stronger. It might sound silly, maybe even primitive, but Johnny seemed like such a man now. You’ve seen him grow since primary school, nearly your entire childhood spent together. And to see how he’s grown, it’s not only impressive, it’s wildly attractive.

There’s nothing more Johnny missed from civilian life than you, and that’s the truth. But when he was on base and training, he didn’t have much time to think about you. Mainly, these thoughts came into his mind at night, when he was lonely, or horny. A lot of the time, both.

Round after round, Johnny pays for your drinks, not letting you out of his sight. He’s scooted his seat closer to yours to where your legs are touching, his hand still on your thigh. Every now and then, he’s squeezing it, movements becoming firmer and firmer until he’s leaning in toward your cheek. Sloppily, he kisses your skin, pressing his lips into the plumpness of your cute cheek while grinning. He’s just so in love with you, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Johnny,” Laughing, your body tingles with happiness.

“Wha?” He questions, not backing away even a single inch. “Not want me to? Got some other lad’s eyes on you?”

“Fuck no.” Instantly, you’re turning your head to face him. “Only you.”

Those azure eyes flutter between your own eager orbs and your slightly parted lips, allowing your hands to lift to his face and bring him in. Familiar lips meet in the middle, pressing fondly together, one warm hand rising to your cheek as he moves with your kiss. This is so easy, comforting. There’s excitement to it for sure, but nothing entirely new. You’re falling into him, into his endless embrace.

“Missed you,” He whispers, mouthing at you. “Thought about you.”

At this point, you’re not even worried about anyone else seeing your overt public displays of affection. You kiss him like it’s an addiction, tongue slipping across his lower lip when you hear his sweet admission.

There’s something about you that lights a fire in his depths. He knows who you are, just as stunning on the inside as you are on the out. Not only are you a pretty little thing, with gorgeous hair and a smile that could kill, but you’re sexy as all hell, too. You’re the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen, even throughout his teen years, his life in the military, he’s never met anyone that even compares. And he can’t get enough of you, can’t believe you fell for him, too.

He’s not sure when he’ll tell you, if he’ll tell you, but he keeps a small booklet of pictures with you in it. No longer than a day or so goes by without him looking at it, and he’s thrilled to see that the real image is still better than the photos. At times, while laying in his cot at night, he wonders if someone else has finally gotten a hold of you, has finally swooped in and taken advantage of his absence. And clearly, others have tried, but you haven’t let them. They're not him.

Swallowing, you take in a short breath, eager to ask him your usual question. “Are you spending the night?”

Just like always, he responds with, “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

By the time your feet are hitting the pavement, it’s late, the night growing chilly. But you can barely feel it, what with the energy rolling through your body. And the heat from Johnny’s hand only comforts you further, palm dwarfing your own with thick fingers wrapping around your much smaller ones.

“You been lonesome while I’m gone?” His tone hints at a bit of sarcasm, but you know there’s genuine curiosity behind it.

“Mostly.” And when he hears the sincerity in your voice, he’s pulling his hand away from yours and looping that same arm around your shoulders. Here, he pulls you in, giving the side of your head a kiss.

“I’m here, now.”

“Only for a little bit.” You grumble in response, only slightly tipsy. Maybe more.

Johnny’s quiet for a moment, sighing. “Don’t worry about that.” He’ll talk to you about it later.

Glancing over at you, he peers down, his height giving him quite the advantage when looking down your already low shirt. Your cleavage damn near makes him drool, forcing a rush of blood to the sensitive space beneath his pants. And he thinks he’s being sly about it until you look up with a smirk.

“Still fancy me that much, Johnny?” Again, you’re trying to act cocky, display your confidence to him. But on the inside, you’re burning up. All you want is for him to compliment and praise you, make you feel small and warm beneath him, just like he used to. And he knows that.

Turning, Johnny pushes himself against you, leading you backward into one of the side alleys along the street. It takes your breath away, a small gasp puffing past your lips when your back hits the brick. With his hands falling to your outer arms, Johnny releases a heavy breath, head ducking down toward your mouth. Meeting him halfway, you tilt your chin up, feeling the crash of his lips. One of those broad palms finds its way to your jaw, holding you in place while he licks over your lips. His movements are much more passionate than before, back when he kissed you in the bar. It feels hurried and heated, like he needed you right here and now.

“Of course I do.” He says between breaths, mouth opening to slide against your own.

His lips are soft and smooth, the taste of his tongue sweet like candy. And these sloppy kisses are John’s forte, all tongue and spit and it’s all so familiar to you. Heart jumping against your ribs, you feel Johnny’s free hand find your chest, softly massaging your tits.

“John,” Exhaling airily, you reach up with both hands, sliding them over his wide shoulders.

“Wearin’ such a low shirt, lass.” He whispers into your ear, lips brushing against the skin.

It makes you feel vulnerable, the way his hand sneaks beneath the fabric, brushing your shirt up just a pinch within the alley’s darkness. Here, he cups you over your bra, fingers massaging you firmly.

“Missed these.” Mouthing at your neck, he hears you whine when his teeth drag across the crux of it, tongue laving over the hot skin. And he makes his own strangled noise when your nails dig into the back of his neck.

“You’re so much bigger…” Whispering as if you’d be heard, you mumble against his lips, fingers reaching for the longer hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yeah?” That surely strokes his ego, pretty grin shining in the moonlight.

“Mhm,” Nodding, you bring him in again, laying your tongue out into his mouth.

“Christ,” He shivers, bicep bulging as his hand cups your face. “Let’s get you home.”

Dizzily, you stumble after him, feeling the firm pull of his hand in yours once again. With a lovesick grin on your face, you let Johnny lead you back to your flat. And the rest of the walk is easy enough, only being a few more blocks.

With a smirk, his hand slides into the back pocket of your jeans, fishing out your keys. Unlocking your door, his hand on your lower back guides you inside, shutting it in an instant. With already half-lidded eyes, he turns to you, licking his lower lip and reaching for you again. This time, your back meets the wall with a much softer embrace, Johnny’s arms looping around your midsection. Hands lowering, he finds the curves of your perfect backside, squeezing you gently while his lips return to you.

Here, in the comfort of your home, John begins to consume you, soft and slow. With one, passionate grab on your ass, he’s moaning, hot breath washing over your features. Trailing your fingers up, they tangle into the strands near the back of his neck, and he groans. Your nails scratch lightly over his skin, fingers pulling gently on his hair.

“Yeah…” Johnny’s liquor-soaked tongue continues to refamiliarize itself with your own, mouthing at you with sloppy licks and sucks. “Miss your fingers on me.”

“Miss feeling you, baby.” It’s like he gets more fit every time you see him, muscles expanding, body growing. His firm chest and stomach, strong back and arms, and that pretty face. “Johnny,”

Before you can speak any further, the hand not on your face falls to your jeans, cupping you eagerly. It forces a gasp from your mouth, immediately swallowed by him.

“Wanna taste you, bonnie.”

“Ugh,” Rolling your eyes up, your head falls back onto the wall as he begins sliding down. You were wondering when he’d ask.

This, in your opinion, is what he was best at. Sex with Johnny was always intense, passionate and heated, whether it was slow or fast. But using his mouth, that’s definitely his most valuable weapon.

Thick fingers undo the button on your jeans, opening your zipper to reveal your purple, cotton panties. And he moans audibly, fully settling on his knees so he can lean in to kiss them. Soft lips press to your covered mound, your hands falling naturally to his head.

“Sweetest taste,” He mumbles, mouthing at the fabric and pushing your jeans down to your ankles. Hooking his fingers into the hemline of your panties, you feel his tongue lave over the fabric, just barely separated from him.

“Johnny… please.”

He doesn’t listen, nor does he respond; he’s going at his own pace.

The humid fan of Johnny’s breath wafts across your smooth skin, pooling your panties on the ground, just above your jeans. Tilting your head down, you become still, waiting for his movement. With your fingers sifting through the longer stripe of hair at the top of his head, he leans in, sticking his tongue out and running it up your seam to poke teasingly at the peak of your sex.

“B-Baby,”

The excitement that shoots through your body is addicting, feeling him lick tenderly at the crease between your outer lips, tongue diving deeper with every stroke. He can’t fully get to you from this angle, not in the way he wants to, but he likes this. The teasing nature of it is getting him harder than ever, tip already leaking in his pants. So, he licks into you, fingers pressing into your thighs as he begins to pull them apart. Well, as much as he can while your feet are still trapped in your pants.

“John…” Already fisting his mohawk, you wiggle your feet, trying to ask him to take them off the rest of the way.

Hurriedly, he gives in, breaths heavy and fast as he removes your shoes, jeans, and panties from your feet. Quickly tossing them further behind his knelt form, he returns, forcing one of your legs up onto his shoulder. The strength behind his movements has you inhaling sharply, your calf draping down his back as he moves in. Instantly, he’s stuffing his tongue inside, licking directly into your channel. The way his tongue strokes you is languid, firm, caressing your inner skin fondly.

The feeling of being exposed in your own home is foreign to you, your legs open wide for him in the middle of your entryway. But you’re getting used to this again, used to him.

Flattening his tongue, he rubs it up your lips until he reaches your clit, the talented muscle swirling around it. Pausing, Johnny takes a beat to suck two fingers into his mouth before prodding the tips of them at your center.

“Yes,” Shoving your hips toward him, the back of your head hits the wall again, pulling him in by his pretty brown hair.

Smoothly, his fingers sink into you, your soldier moaning from the sting of your fingers and nails. From the moment he got his mouth on you, his receptive buds tingled from your taste. How he fucking missed it. He’d reminisce on these moments back on base, mouth watering from the memory of your taste. It made him drool, saliva currently pooling from the corners of his mouth. Sloppily, it runs down his chin, listening to the wet squelch of your cunt as it sucks his fingers in again and again. He pumps them into you steadily, beginning to curl them when hitting deep.

Lowering his tongue, he laps at your wet folds before returning to suck your engorged clitoris into his mouth. He suckles on it, whimpering softly when you buck your hips against him. With his free hand, he urges you on, cupping and squeezing your ass to push you further toward him.

“Oh my god, yes.” Rolling your hips, you grind yourself down onto his face, feeling his short stubble scratch along the insides of your thighs.

He lets you ride his face, rutting over his mouth like it’s the last time you’ll ever get the chance to. Continuing to mouth at your juicy pleasure center, Johnny moans roughly against you, listening to your own wanton breaths.

While prodding at your core, he hits something special, shooting euphoria throughout your entire body. It forces your pelvis forward, body chasing its high. You can feel it rising, the heat coiling in your belly.

“Bleedin’ Jesus,” Johnny exhales, eyes closed as he devours you. “Dripping on my face, lass.”

“Johnny,” Whining above his kneeling form makes him grin, a low groan emanating from his chest.

“Give it to me,” He suddenly demands, voice lower and more authoritative. “Right in my mouth.”

His words have you quivering, stomach muscles convulsing as you curl down toward him. A shrill gasp spills from your mouth, watching those dazzling azure eyes open to stare up at you from between your legs. Punching his fingers into your cunt, the hot air of his moans floats directly over you, soaking into your skin. And then he’s opening his mouth, just as you begin to gush.

“John,” Your hips flinch from the force of it, Johnny’s free hand holding you up against the wall. His hand grips your waist, fingers bruising your skin.

Pleasure bursts through your body, shivering from your hips all the way up to your chest. And he holds you through it, through every twitch and quiver, through every high whine and tiny whimper. And Johnny just adores the way you hold onto him, fisting his hair while you ride out your high on his handsome face.

Johnny’s mouth remains open against your cunt, fingers slowing their pace as he swallows down your cum. Breath escaping him, he gives in to the incredible pulse below his belt, hips jerking ever so slightly. Dragging his fingers from your center, he drops his shoulder, allowing your leg to slide off of him. And then he’s standing, pressing his body against you before grabbing onto your face. In a much hungrier pace than before, he kisses you, holding the hinge of your jaw open and moaning when you let him lick inside.

Still dizzy from your high, you can just barely make out the wetness on his skin, your slick covering his lips and chin and cheeks. The taste of your release lingers on his tongue, lips sloppy as he swaps his spit with your own.

Something about Johnny coming home to have the sweetest, nastiest sex of his life just felt invigorating to you. Every time, it’s just as good as the last, if not even better.

“Fuck me,” That thick, deep voice, it gets you every time.

In the heat of it all, Johnny’s hands are lowering to your thighs, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his toned waist. Clinging to the sturdiness of his body, you hold his beautiful face, bringing his mouth back to you while he begins rolling his hips between your legs. Johnny’s moans, soft and sweet, a genuine melody, flow freely into the surrounding air while he grinds against you. He lets you lead the kiss, focusing on himself for just a minute. The wetness from your cunt wets the front of his pants, girth twitching beneath its confines. Desperately, he rubs himself against you, head lowering to rest against your neck. From the noises he’s making, the intense grunts and groans, you’d think he was fully fucking you.

“Johnny, baby,” You can feel him throbbing against your naked skin, and you want him. “Please.”

Allowing your entire weight to fall onto him, he picks you up from the wall, turning to stride toward your bedroom. Nothing about your flat has changed, not a single detail amiss since he last saw it. At times, he thinks of this place as his own home. Sure, he visits family, his mom, his sisters, but this is where he stays. Here, with you.

Kicking your door the rest of the way open, he walks inside, mouthing along the slope of your neck. He listens to your girlish sigh as he lays you on your bed, lifting your shirt off in the process. And you expect him to lay over you, return his attention to you, but he doesn’t. Standing at his full height, Johnny rips off his shirt before those strong hands fall to his zipper and belt.

Left in only your bra, you watch him, lifting yourself up onto your forearms to lean back against them. In his hurry, he doesn’t see your wanting stare. But upon realization of it, he grins.

“Look any different from the last time?” He asks, cocky as ever.

“Always.” Reaching out, you lay a hand across his abdomen, more defined than it was almost a year ago.

Johnny’s abs made your mouth fucking water, his toned muscles and firm pecs. And his v-line, fuck did that get you going. Hair scatters his entire abdomen and it just makes you want to lick him. He’s so well-built, so pretty and fit. He’s just so perfect.

Sitting upright, you lean in, hands falling to his sides as your lips find his skin. Warm and smooth beneath your mouth, you kiss him, tongue laying out to lick along the lines of definition.

“Christ, I missed you.” Shaking his head, he runs a hand over your hair, admiring you.

He hadn’t finished undoing his pants, so you take up the task yourself. His belt is easy enough, granting you access to his zipper. Sliding it down, you’re greeted with navy blue boxers, the front dampened from his excitement.

“You want it?” Johnny whispers, staring down at you with lidded eyes, petting your hair.

Your answer comes in the form of your next action, pulling him gently from his boxers. In your hand, he’s warm, thick and heavy. A glistening drop of precum falls from his tip, your thumb catching it before rubbing over his sensitive skin.

“Later,” He then decides, licking his lower lip with a swallow. “You can spoil me tomorrow.”

“What if I want to now?” Your voice is tender and sweet, eyes peeking up at him.

“You don’t have a choice.” Grinning widely, he dips down toward you, taking your chin in his hand.

Rising with his gentle tug, you return to your feet, leaning up into his kiss. Pressing into you, Johnny pushes your body onto the bed, lips never leaving. Easily, his hands slide around your back, undoing the clips of your bra while he moves to mouth at your neck.

“Let me see ‘em,” He whispers, dragging the edge of his teeth over your collarbone.

He drags the straps down your arms, discarding the last piece of clothing carelessly onto the floor. Your room is dark, the light switches empty of touch. But Johnny can still see you, the streetlamp outside your window illuminating his view.

While caressing your waist with those strong, calloused hands, Johnny stares at your chest. That warm tongue makes a home for itself between your breasts, licking up the sweet valley of your cleavage. Breathing steadily, you let him enjoy you like this, indulging in you all over again. Turning his head, he sucks on the slopes of them, teasing his tongue around your nipple until you whine.

“Baby, come oonnn.”

With a smirk, he’s wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled peaks, smooshing his face against your soft flesh. He sucks on you tenderly, lips moving in little, pulsing motions. Every now and then, his tongue will come out, laying flat against you. And the best thing about this, were the sounds he made. Boyish moans fall from his lips as he continues, completely losing himself in this.

Slowly, your legs wrap around his naked waist, warm and firm against your thighs as you pull him further in. The second you feel the weight of him hit your inner thigh, you’re releasing an airy gasp, feeling his shaft slide between your exposed lips.

“Oh, Christ…” Dropping his forehead down, he rests it against the center of your chest. Nestled between your velvety folds, he twitches, stomach muscles tightening with excitement.

With careful motions, he moves his hips, sliding himself against your entrance but not yet diving in. His stiffened length prompts your body’s aroused reaction, wetness coating his shaft while the noise of it spills into the room. Back and forth, his hips sway, listening to your timid breaths, your gorgeous body shuddering every time he runs over the peak of your sex.

“I just wanna lose myself in you…” Johnny whispers into the darkness fondly, tip catching at your entrance.

While your breasts offer him a comfortable resting place, he wants to be closer to you, closer to that pretty face. So, he lifts his head, pressing his hairline against your temple as he begins to slide in. Smooth and slow, he breaches you, one of your arms looping around his neck for support while your other hand grabs at his bicep. In unison, your lips part, moans slipping between the nonexistent space between the two of you.

The stretch is gentle, welcoming. There’s just something so specific about this, about the way you open up for him, the way your sex overtly accepts him. You welcome him in like you’ve been waiting for this very moment since the last time he left, which isn’t far from the truth.

Burying himself entirely in your tight heat, he throbs forcefully, uncontrollably. Once his pelvis meets your own, spreading your legs even further around him, your fingers find his hair once again. Running your digits through that feathery stripe of hair makes him sigh, a happy smile blooming right beside your cheek.

“Mm…” Johnny hums pleasantly, nose rubbing against you ever so gently. He could be so sweet, he was always sweet.

The hairs at his base scratch kindly at your delicate skin, your very center fluttering from the contact. Pressing further between your legs, John grinds himself into you, kissing your cheek while you adjust to his size. You’ve taken him countless times and still, his girth always seemed to surprise you. Even more satisfying was his length, never ceasing to hit the deepest parts of you.

“You always feel so good, mo leannan…” You’re whispering to him, the Gaelic words making his heart beat with overwhelming affection. (My sweetheart)

“I come back for you,” He suddenly says, huffing out a harsh breath. “Every time, it’s for you.”

When he says this, he begins to move, creating a steady yet languid pace. Upon his first reentry, he groans openly into your ear, that deep voice creating the loveliest sounds. Johnny’s moans were always so beautiful, not too rushed or frantic, but smooth and deep.

Lovingly, his head ducks down to your neck, reveling in the way you hold onto him. One of the things Johnny enjoys most about sex is the closeness, the body heat. The hand you had on his bicep loops beneath his arm, scratching slightly at his back while your other arm stays wrapped around his neck. You can feel every bit of him this way, every flexing muscle, every firm plane of skin.

“Jesus,” Your lover grunts, left hand sliding up the mattress to hold the back of your head.

Hot and clenching, you pull him in, stroke after stroke. And it’s killing him. You feel ethereal, like everything he needs, everything he’s been missing.

Hitting a particularly sensitive spot, you cry out a bit louder for him, soft moans turning into high whines and little whimpers. Fingernails dig into his sculpted back, feeling Johnny angle his hips just right.

“Yeah, right there…” Mumbling into your neck, he mouths at you, wrapping his right arm around your lower back. Here, he lifts your hips, encouraging you to meet his thrusts. And you instantly do.

With one arm holding your back, and the other beneath your head, he keeps you close to him, chests pressing together, stomach rubbing against the other’s. Already, he feels flush, panting and moaning from the way your entire body squeezes him, especially when your ankles hook around his lower back. That turns him wild, fucking himself into you like he’ll never get the chance to again, pressing his lips to your cheek before moving his head to find your lips.

“J-John, baby…” The small whimpers slipping past your lips prompts a certain cluster of emotions to form within him. You’re so special to him, so sweet and delicate, his perfect lass. And all at once, regret swirls inside his gut, regret for leaving you, for not taking care of you. He wants to, wants to give you everything he can, and he hasn’t been doing that.

Thrusting into you without abandon forces the breath from his lungs, breathing into your space, feeling your own wafts of warm air. Your kisses are passionate, gasps falling into the other’s mouth while your tongues dance together in messy patterns. It’s intoxicating, this feeling with him, the sensation you create when together.

Strong hips continue to pump his swollen length into you, head hitting the deepest parts of your being, shaft keeping you spread.

“Don’t, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” The way you sound, it’s everything he’s dreamed of since being gone.

“Beautiful fuckin’ thing,” He suddenly huffs, shaking his head. His eyes don’t open as he speaks, entirely lost in the feeling of you. “Mine, always mine. No matter where I go, how long it’s been…”

“Johnny…” There hasn’t been a moment during his past visits where he’s admitted something like this. It was too hard to admit while he was constantly away. You both agreed to part ways, ending your “official” relationship. And even though he always returns to you, it’s never prompted a continuation of what you once had.

Before you can register what’s happening, he’s pulling out of you and planting his hands on your hips. Flipping you onto your stomach, he slides back in, earning a shrill gasp from your end. With his hands flat on the bed, his hips bounce against your ass, breaths punching from his chest. Something comes over him, he can feel it and you can, too. Leaning down, Johnny’s mouth finds your skin, biting at your back. What first appears as gentle nips turn into mouthfuls of skin, digging his teeth in hard enough to leave marks - you’re his. The subtle sting, the rush of adrenaline it creates, it’s overwhelming. From this angle, he feels even bigger than before, the slap of his pelvis against your backside ringing throughout your bedroom. Leaning further in, Johnny kisses along your shoulder and neck, your skin wet from him and your own sweat. And then his dominant hand is sliding across your hip, lowering to grab a fistful of your ass.

Caressing his forehead against the back of your neck, he whispers, “Bonnie bell,” Entirely out of breath, Johnny admits again, “I missed you.”

Reaching around, you fist the hair along the back of his head, dry moans scratching their way through your throat. Shakily, you respond, “I n-need you.”

“You have me,” He’s confident in promising this to you. “You have me, baby.”

The sweet moment fades when you feel him throb against your inner walls, shoving your face down into the pillows as you whimper for him.

“So fuckin’ wet…” John whispers, eyes closed as he begins to feel that dull heat rise within his depths.

“Will you cum? Inside me?” He can barely hear you, your voice muffled by the pillows. But he answers anyway.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

As soon as you ask, he feels it hit him, that powerful wave of pleasure. It wreaks havoc on Johnny’s body, convulsing above you as he drops to your back. His hips twitch from pleasure, shaking with every milky rope that spurts from him. And once his chest hits your back, he’s wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you impossibly close, clinging to you in an almost painfully tight embrace.

Your fingers massage his head sweetly, stroking through his hair kindly. His mouth falls openly against your neck, soft and damp. John’s body is hot above your own, his warmth leaking into you with every one of his euphoric moans. He feels the pleasure of it fill every limb, every vein; this type of high, it’s nowhere else he can find.

It’s ages before he’s pulling out, allowing himself to soften inside your sickeningly sweet pussy. His mouth drags across the entirety of your neck, your shoulders and back, releasing soft moans as he displays his adoration for you. Dropping to your backside, he mouths at it, finally able to worship his most adored feature on you. With both hands, he grabs you, massages you and pulls you apart while licking up the curves. Johnny sucks his mark onto you, planting a deep bruise. And while it’s erotic, it’s sensual, too. Deeply sweet in his own way.

“Mo ghrádh…” A jolt thrums throughout your chest when you hear him speak these simple words. My love.

“You stay.” He then says to you softly, turning to leave the room. And you know exactly what he’s doing. And when he’s back, he’s instructing gently, “Up.”

Smiling, you lift your hips for him, feeling the cool wipe of a cloth between your legs. Every time, without fail, he’d clean you, show his gratitude in this way. And while he knew you went to the bathroom after you two were done, he still wanted to do this for you. Even while you were busy doing that, he took your water bottle from your nightstand, filling it before putting it back. He just wants to make you comfortable, wants you to know you’re cared for. And by the time you came back, you were met with the sight of your Johnny baby, your pretty boy, all cuddled up in your bed.

“C’mere,” He calls quietly, a sleepy smile on his lips as he lifts the covers.

Hopping eagerly into bed, you cuddle happily within the embrace of Johnny’s strong arms. Wrapping around you, he pulls you in, allowing you to relax against his chest. You always snuggled this way, facing each other, heads resting against the other’s as you dozed off together. And he finds himself feeling the most at peace this way, in these moments. There wasn’t a time he felt closer to you.

It was something he always liked, something that made him smile and giggle. The way your hands caressed his head, fingers sliding up through his tall strands as you styled them, it just made him so happy. With his new profession, Johnny felt the need to be serious almost constantly. He had an image to uphold, after all. He’s the best at what he does, and is only continuing to sharpen his skills. But with you, he could let go. He could be himself again. And the real Johnny, he was goofy. He was silly and sweet, curious about the world with a childlike innocence that made your heart flutter with emotion.

“I’ve heard this one so many times.” Whispering, your smile forms fondly in the early morning light.

Raking your fingers through Johnny’s hair, you pause to scoop a bit more gel from the jar, styling his mohawk. Sitting comfortably on his lap, Johnny rests back against the headboard of your bed, watching you work with a sleepy grin. Both of those kind hands run up and down your thighs, squeezing you every now and then.

“It’s one of my favorites.” He says, replying to your comment about the song he’d put on.

Just inches from his beautiful face, you feel the breath of his words form along your lips; prompting you to ask kindly, “Doesn’t it get boring, though? Listening to the same songs over and over again?”

“Nah,” He grins, shaking his head but stopping when you frown at him, your fingers stilling in his longer locks. “All the best ones remind me of you.”

“Johnny,” You reply, touched by his admission. But he just shrugs.

“I see you in all my favorite songs.”

He’d woken up beside you this morning, limbs tangled with yours, the taste of your cunt still on his tongue. And he reveled in that, the sensation nurturing his already rising erection, the one that rose nearly every morning. But most important about this morning, was the fact that he gets to spend it with you.

Since highschool, you’d been inseparable. Lovebirds since you were fifteen, stealing glances at each other until he got the nerve to make a real move. And after that, you were hooked. Even when he left, after so many years together, he was never truly out of your head. From the first time you met, the first time you held hands, the first time you kissed… everything was special from the very moment you laid your eyes on him. This is the most intricate, romantic, and passionate relationship either of you had been in.

It haunted you, watching him leave and knowing that your sweet boy, your Johnny baby, was going off to train and fight. And most importantly, leave you. But you can’t think about that, not when he’s right here with you.

“Mo ghrádh…” He mutters again, staring up at you with absolute adoration.

All you do is smile at those words, shaking your head with slight disbelief. But he wants more, he’s calling for your attention.

“Sweet cailín,” Johnny coos, both hands lifting to your cheeks. (Sweet girl)

“What, baby?” Your voice is just as small and sweet as his when you respond.

Bringing you in with a gentle pull, Johnny reunites your lips, the kiss tender and brief. But then another follows, and another, until you’re molding yourself to him all over again.

“Have you had anyone inside you, bonnie?” He suddenly asks, the question entirely unexpected. “Since I last left?” It’s said quietly, carefully; he’s afraid of the answer, but is quickly reassured.

“No.” Holding onto him with your arms looped around his neck, you give him your full attention, having completely forgotten about his hair. “Only you, Johnny.”

“Really?”

“Yes… have… have you?”

“No, no one.” His response is quick, expressed through a deep release of breath. Running a hand down your back, he admits, “Can’t bring myself to.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, dove?” He misses that nickname, so common and simple but so sweet when spoken by you.

“I love you.” Saying it feels like an enormous release, your emotional wellbeing blossoming just from being able to tell him again. “I still do.”

He smiles, head moving gently against you. “Don’t think I could ever not love you.”

“Johnny,” Sucking in an emotional breath, you decide to be fully vulnerable with him, with your best friend. “I w-want, I miss you.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know…” Johnny thought breaking things off was the best thing for the two of you, he really did, but he’s learning now that that’s far from the truth. And seeing you like this, so vulnerable and wanting, it’s crushing him.

Pushing yourself forward against his chest, you sigh, turning your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. Broad hands run lovingly up and down your back, soothing you.

“I miss being yours.” Comes your small whisper, breath floating over his neck.

A sudden surge of possessiveness comes over him, strong arms squeezing you tight. “You are mine.”

“Not like I used to be, Johnny…” Sadness consumes you entirely, the emotion ruining your delightful morning. But it would’ve come out sooner or later, and right now, it’s practically spilling from your heart. “Would, would you ever want that? Again?”

For a moment, he stays quiet. He’s trying to figure out how he should word this.

“I wouldn’t expect anything new from you, I promise I wouldn’t.” Desperation seeps from your pores but you’re past the point of caring. You’re in love with him, you can’t help it. “I know you can’t talk to me while you’re gone. It’s just, I… I miss it.

“You know…” He finally says, “I’m kinda sick ‘o that, anyways.”

“What do you mean?” Sliding one hand down his chest, your pointer finger runs over him, creating little patterns.

“Bein’ without you.”

A bright grin slowly cracks across your face when he says it. “Really?”

He shrugs, grinning himself. “Always miss you. Always think about the lads here, someone comin’ into swoop you up. I cannae let that happen, bonnie.”

Lifting your head, you find that cute little smirk. Jesus, how the hell is he so pretty?

“There’s no one here that could ever replace you.” One hand then finds his cheek, his chiseled jawline.

“This doesn’t mean I’ll be home more often though, lass. Still goin’ ta be busy on base.”

Shrugging, you answer simply with, “I figured. I mean, it won’t be any different.”

“Except that I’ll write to you, when I can. I will.”

“I’ll write back.” Smiling brightly, you almost can’t contain your giddiness. “Sometimes… it feels like we never even broke up.”

“Yeah,” Johnny smiles widely, “But I like that.”

For just a second, you’re silent, smiling like a fool in front of him. “Yeah… me too.” A timid grin then pulls at your lips, eyes dipping down to watch your finger move over his chest. “Always knowing you’re around… always coming back to me.”

“And I always will.” He says quickly, lifting your chin for you to look at him, capitalizing on his statement.

“Promise me?”

“Yeah, bonnie bell.” Barely tilting his chin, Johnny presses his lips to your own. “I promise.”

#John McTavish #John “Soap” McTavish #Soap cod #cod mw2 #cod fanfiction #John McTavish x you #John McTavish x reader #John McTavish x female reader #John McTavish smut #John McTavish fluff

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sugamehhq · 3 months

Text

Worried For No Reason (Johnshi)

More Au writing :))

Having been left to himself to get situated in his new home, Johnny felt lost. His other half had decided to leave him with the angels instead of taking him to his family like he said he would. Kenshi had stayed with Johnny for a night before taking off back home the next morning. It was strange. Johnny barely had time to process his sudden fleeing. The demon woke up, planted a kiss on his forehead, then bolted for the door.

The two angels he shared his room with looked from the door, back to him, then to each other, as if to question if something was wrong. Johnny, barely knowing these two angels, gave them a glance. He hoped they understood nothing was wrong, at least not between them.

The angel was left alone that day.

When he woke up alone another morning, he began to consider heading to the other side. Sure, he was fine without the demon, but where did he storm off to, and why with such hurry in his steps?

As considered, Johnny took the day to venture off towards the demon’s territory.

He’d been in the area at least once or twice as a low rank, trying to find somewhere that didn’t give him the ick. Unfortunately, seeing certain types of demons at the time didn’t help his search for comfort.

The angel set foot in the warm area. The plain he entered was bare, nothing to be seen for miles. Not a single demon was marching. In a way it was worrying. Was he going to get ambushed? Did something happen to the demons? Should he fear for himself, or his lover’s kind?

Regardless, the angel moved forward.

He repeated this for a few days, one of these days going slightly different than the last.

“Hey pipsqueak,” a voice rang in the angel’s ears.

“Pipsqueak?” he questioned, looking around.

“Long time no see loverboy,” the voice laughed.

“Where are you?”

His question was answered when a blonde came crashing down beside him.

Sonya.

The angel’s feathers ruffled, startled.

“Relax, I’m not going to do anything to you,” Sonya dusted herself off before standing with her hand on her hip.

“You,” Johnny replied, almost in awe.

“Don’t stare too hard, Kenshi wouldn’t be too pleased.”

Johnny blinked a few times, his face flushing embarrassed.

“What’re you doing here anyways? I thought Kenshi was with you,” Sonya leaned forward.

The angel’s wings slightly covered his face, intimidated by her presence.

“He left a few days ago with no warning. I’ve been looking for him since.”

The demon raised a brow, “And you just can’t live without him huh.”

Johnny fully covered his face at this point. First he’s slapped in the face with the existence of Sonya, now he’s being teased by her about his partner.

“Can we go back to step one here, how are you not uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable? Why would I be uncomfortable?” Sonya stepped back, confused.

“You don’t remember-”

“If you’re about to bring up our past, yes I remember. However I think only YOU find this uncomfortable,” the blonde laughed, “I thought we had ended as good friends.”

“Right, yeah, friends,” Johnny internally face palmed.

His mind was short circuiting, suddenly being struck with casual conversation with his ex from years prior was not what he intended on doing this day. He just wanted to find his partner and get out.

“So I’m assuming you don’t know where he is then,” he sighed, revealing his burning face.

“Even if I did, I respect his wishes to be alone,” she crossed her arms, studying his face.

The confused expression he gave her was amusing.

“Yes I know where he is dumbass.”

The angel’s wings stretched while he awkwardly stood there, waiting for the demon to show him the way.

She hesitated, taking in his figure.

“Love the gold by the way,” she smiled.

To that, Johnny returned the smile.

He could tell she genuinely meant it, she was happy for him, and he loved it.

“He figured you’d come looking for him, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me leading the way,” she turned her back to the angel before taking off in a random direction.

“If he figured I’d come looking for him, then why didn’t he come back?”

Johnny was confused.

He could tell Kenshi was nervous about something despite their distance, but he couldn’t figure out what or why. The only assumption was about meeting his family, but even that he initially showed confidence. So what was the issue, and why didn’t he stick around for them to fix it together?

After a long walk down the plains of the higher up demon territory, Sonya paused outside of a small opening.

“He should be in here. He’s a little weird, so don’t mind the setting. I suggest you enter quietly as well, assuming he’s probably meditating or something weird like that. He does that sometimes.”

Meditation huh. In a strange cave-like area off the side of the higher up’s territory.

He really is an interesting guy.

The angel thanked the demon before slowly entering the cave. He wondered how it was comfortable in the area, seeing as he had to hunch slightly to walk in. To his surprise, the entrance opened up into a dimly lit room. His hand ran along the wall, feeling his way towards the center. He wasn’t sure where the light was coming from, but he followed it anyway. The angel paused briefly, attempting to map out in his mind how to approach the other if he was lost in thought. Before he could figure it out, his foot tripped over a loose rock on the floor.

A light blue glow snapped in his direction before quickly dissipating. He could hear shuffling a short distance ahead of him. Staying still, Johnny waited until it stopped. The angel started to consider turning to leave, but a voice, one he’s fond of, spoke out to him.

“Starlight,” the demon spoke quietly.

“That’s me,” Johnny replied, still unsure where to look.

“Come forward.”

He rubbed his eyes confused, as if he was to be seeing where to step, but he did as told.

To his surprise, he felt a hand around his calf.

“Sit.”

Johnny sat.

The two stayed quiet for longer than Johnny would’ve liked. He wanted answers, wanted to know what was wrong and how to fix it.

“Relax.”

“Is there something wrong?”

His response wasn’t intentional, he was just itching to get to the point.

Kenshi sighed, “Nothing serious. I just worked myself up thinking too hard. That’s all.”

“For several days straight?”

The demon stayed silent, looking for a way to respond.

“You’ve been anxious for days Kenshi,” Johnny mumbled slightly, his hand finding the other’s back.

Almost immediately, Kenshi’s shoulders relaxed at the touch of his mark. Johnny himself could feel the release of stress from the affection as well.

“You can talk to me, you know. There’s no reason for you to run and hide like this.”

“Habit, I guess,” the demon whispered, loud enough for the other to hear.

Johnny frowned at the statement, but understood. Getting used to having a genuine partner was truly strange.

He waited for Kenshi to tell him what the problem was, to see if it was something he could take into his own hands. When no response came, he leaned forward in an attempt to bring them closer.

Kenshi accepted the extra affection, enjoying what he should’ve had days prior. He began to regret running.

Several minutes felt like hours to Johnny. His urge to know was making him impatient, and Kenshi could tell. Feeling Johnny’s impatience was not mixing well with his nerves, he tried to express his thoughts.

“I’m worried you’ll have to prove yourself to my family,” his voice shook gently.

Johnny paused his messaging over the demon’s mark, allowing the nerves to creep back in.

“That’s what you’ve been anxious about?”

Kenshi nodded before realizing the angel couldn’t fully see him, “Yeah.”

To that, the angel laughed.

Kenshi was now the confused one. Why was that funny to him?

Johnny eventually resumed messaging the demon’s mark.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting them believe it or not.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Kenshi sat dumbfounded, but still nervous nonetheless. Without speaking, Johnny could tell the amount of concerns floating around his mind just by the silence that filled the small cave.

“If anything goes wrong, I will be right beside you. I doubt they’d throw you out-”

“It’s not about me getting released, it’s you.”

“Me?”

“I don’t want to be forced into burning-”

He choked on his words.

“I’m sure they’re not that harsh, are they?” Johnny tried to keep a positive view on the idea.

“You’d be surprised. I’ve seen it happen once or twice.”

Having expressed the main concern, Kenshi no longer wanted to speak on the matter. Johnny understood when his next few questions remained unanswered.

With some convincing, Johnny got Kenshi out of the small space. Kenshi followed the angel out of the demon’s territory and to the angel’s. He was led to Johnny’s shared room with the other angels.

“Looks like someone found his hellhound,” the other brown wing angel joked.

“Not funny Kung Lao,” the white wing pinched the other, earning a yelp.

Johnny smiled at the two before leading Kenshi to his side of the room.

It was decided the two would spend the rest of the day calming the demon’s nerves the best they could. The following morning they were to visit his family.

While Kenshi struggled to sleep throughout the night, Johnny slept comfortably having Kenshi by his side. The two got up and headed out the door, down to the demon’s territory.

“Lead the way doll,” the angel pulled Kenshi forward, urging him to walk.

Kenshi complied, but the nerves told Johnny how he didn’t want to.

What Kenshi wasn’t expecting when entering his family’s home, was the immediate praise Johnny received. Everyone was welcoming to him, no one gave him any dirty looks. In a way, it was only more off putting.

“Stay beside me,” his protective instincts kicked in finally.

“You don't have to tell me that,” Johnny laughed.

While walking the halls, Kenshi avoided contact with anyone he knew. His angel didn’t mind, but couldn’t help feeling a bit rude sprinting by the friendly faces of his partner’s family.

As they arrived, Kenshi threw open the door to the main room. Inside stood what Johnny could only assume was his mother and younger sister. Anyone else around was assumed to be aunts, uncles or some other distant relative.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Kenshi began to speak, his voice a little too loud.

Johnny’s hand found its way to the demon’s mark again, an attempt to lower his voice.

The demon resumed his words, properly introducing his angel to his family.

Unexpectedly, everyone was okay with it.

Johnny smiled when Kenshi slouched forward, the stress in his energy fading away.

“I told you it would be fine,” his angel softly spoke over his shoulder.

“I suppose I should listen to you from now on huh,” the demon huffed.

“Damn right, it took you long enough to learn.”

Kenshi rolled his eyes. Sighing, he threw himself to his angel, brown feathers fighting against the weight of his figure.

“Sorry,” he whispered into his shoulder before releasing his grip and walking towards his mother.

Johnny regained his balance, and smiled watching the demon mingle with his loved ones.

Only then did it hit him that he was now a part of this family, and he would do anything to protect them.

Some things I didn't really get to in the writing:

Kenshi's used to being alone when he feels certain ways, so him running was to be alone with his thoughts. He expected Johnny to come look for him, so he wasn't completely guilty about sprinting to go home.

Johnny was accepted by Kenshi's family very quickly due to the fact of being seen/having spoken to parts of the family on his few days in and out of the demon's territory (unknowingly).

Sonya and Johnny had a relationship years prior to Johnshi becoming a thing. Johnny thought they ended on a weird note, so seeing Sonya for the first time in a while was off putting for him when she doesn't feel awkward talking to him at all. (They loved each other yes, but Sonya realized it wasn't what she truly wanted at the time. Having seen how he's been treated however, she brought him up to Kenshi in hopes it would pique his interest since she knows Johnny is a genuine and sweet guy deserving of someone who would love him to the ends of the earth.)

The light blue glow will be addressed in the next writing I'm to post :))

Sorry, these are kind of rushed sounding. I for some reason only work at ungodly hours of the night and I'm tired. Hopefully the next one will be a little better than these last few :))

I'm also sorry for if I accidentally write any characters out of character. I've only recently got into writing MK fics so my bad-

Anyway here's a Sonya design !! Drawn by my beloved @s-icarus-hofmann of course. All love goes to them for the art.

I hope you enjoyed :))

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

WIBTA for insisting my husband's online friend sign some sort of lease or contract for moving into our house?

So my husband has a friend from a MMO that he met like 5 years ago. This guy moved across the country to get away from his toxic family and live with his partner there. This partner left him earlier this summer, shouldering him with the full financial responsibility for the apartment they used to share, which he could not afford alone. When he heard about this, my husband offered to help, because the friend doesn't have any closer connections and really doesn't want to return to his toxic family, if they'd even have him back. A couple years ago my husband and I bought a house, and it has a guest bedroom, and my husband offered it to him without asking me first. "If you can't find somewhere affordable in time let me know." He did tell me almost immediately afterwards, though. It's his nature to offer help when he has the means to do so, whether it's a friend or a stranger in the Walmart parking lot who needs their engine jumpstarted. I love that about him, but I feel like it's gone a bit far this time.

I've only spoken to this guy myself a couple times when I still played this MMO. We don't know what he looks like, and my husband only just recently learned his real name (he never felt the need to ask before.) But my husband trusts him, and I want to trust my husband. I still have my reservations, though, because I don't know him, and also because after years of living in crappy apartments and with crappy roommates, I highly valued finally having our own private home, where we can be as indiscreet as we like, stay up as late as we want on our days off, and have a place for our friends to crash for the couple nights a year when we can actually get together and get real drunk. But despite all this, I told my husband ok, as long as it's only temporary, and only if he doesn't find any other option before he has to vacate his current apartment. Because I didn't want to be the reason that someone my husband considers a friend to be homeless, or back with an abusive family. There is a verbal agreement/understanding that the friend needs to find a job here ASAP, start paying rent once he has a paycheck, and be looking for a place of his own while he's here.

Well, his friend wasn't able to find anything else, and my husband has already bought a plane ticket for him, and one box of his things has already arrived at our house in advance of his arrival, so it's too late to rescind the offer. I spoke to my mom and mother-in-law about it and they are EXTREMELY skeptical, being older people and all and not really understanding the idea of internet friendships. But after talking to them, I'm more anxious about this than I initially realized. Moms and I floated the idea of drafting some kind of contract or rent agreement or something, so that we have some sort of recourse if this person isn't trustworthy or things go pear shaped. But my husband insisted it isn't necessary to go that far, that this will definitely be a short term thing, but in this economy I really doubt that.

I know now I should've pressed the issue earlier. If I pushed against it hard enough I think my husband would have dropped it. But I also genuinely don't want to be the reason this guy's homeless. It's entirely possible he's a perfectly trustworthy guy and is as nice in person has he has been online. I thought a written agreement would be a fitting compromise since it's definitely too late to pull back without being the asshole for sure, but I want some measure of protection. I'd do some legal research first to make sure it's done correctly. But WIBTA if I insisted on that? what would tumblr do?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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fleursroses · 1 year

Text

Of boys and boxes

Holy shit I reached 250 followers yesterday!! Genuinely I want to thank you so much. So, in honour of that here's finally the fic I said I'd write back in like October (whoops). It's inspired by this post by @ggomos-maribat, so if you're wondering why you got tagged in this, it's because you asked to in case anyone wrote something for it. I hope it lives up to your expectations!!! I will also post this on AO3 and reblog with the link. But for now, enjoy <333

However Marinette thought it would be to be the Guardian of the Miracle Box, she couldn't exactly say it would even come close to reality. Sure, the whole thing surrounding Hawkmoth that got her in the situation in the first place generally sucked a lot, but in a way she knew what she could expect. Then Shadowmoth happened, and Monarch, who eventually all turned out to be Gabriel Agreste, the fucking dad of her longtime crush and partner Chat Noir. Yeah, talk about killing the mood.

Okay, if she was being honest, at that point the feelings for either had been fading for a while, mainly due to all the stress being Guardian put on her life. Sometimes she couldn't help but resent Fu for all that he, although not necessarily on purpose, had forced her to go through, from losing her childhood so early without any guidance, to making her feel like she wasn't allowed to have feelings without putting the world that was laid upon her thin shoulders at risk. It never felt fair though, because she knew Fu had had to go through the same thing. At least she still had some sort of support network.

Still, the whole thing left her too traumatised to really want to pursue Adrien any further, or anyone else for that matter. This was fine by her, and although he was a bit disappointed, Adrien understood and respected her feelings on this matter. She was glad she could still have him by her side, despite it not being the future they had both dreamed of.

However, being left with a bit too much time on her hands, Marinette had decided to focus more on her duties as guardian, wanting to fully uncover its secrets without the threat of having all the kwamis being stolen from her again hanging over her head. And as much as she wished Fu had trained her more, she didn't think he had known about... certain connections the miracle box had to various organisations either. Wasn't that just her luck?

It had been 3 years since Hawkmoth had been defeated, and Marinette had spent most of that time travelling all over the world. Every so often she would return to Paris again though, to meet up with her old friends. They would go out for drinks and Marinette would tell all about the classes she followed online to get a business degree, as well as tell about where she had been and what she had done as Guardian. She had to admit, it was nice to finally be able to talk about being Ladybug, even if the group who knew was still only really small. Or rather, it was nice to have the possibility. In reality, she was so used to being secretive, out of sheer habit she sometimes forgot to mention things other people would undoubtedly have told their friends.

It would go like this: One of the times she was back after a particularly long 5 months away, Marinette invited Adrien, Alya, Nino, Kagami and Chloé to hang out at the bakery with her. Just as she was telling a story about the crazy commission she had gotten from one of Jagged's friends, something she occasionally did to help keep her afloat while she was abroad, she got a call from an, to her friends, unfamiliar name. Apologizing to the group, who assured her it was fine, she answered. Her and the guy on the other end held a short civil conversation, ending with Marinette promising she would drop something of his by his place at her earliest convenience and then ended it just as quickly. When asked about the other guy, she just said "Oh that's just Damian, I met him in Tunisia," and then immediately went back to her story again, as if nothing had really happened.

Yet, this Damian continued to show up in conversations after that. Over time her friends gathered that although they had met in Tunisia, he was apparently American, had a big family and a preference for the same martial arts Marinette did. She didn't talk about him all that much, mostly just mentioned him every so often, like when Alya accompanied her to her favourite fabric store while she was still in the neighbourhood.

"And so this creep comes up to me all macho like I didn't just pepperspray one of his friends right in front of him- Wait Mari check this green satin out, don't you think it would look nice on Adrien?"

Marinette came over and inspected the fabric, and while picking up the roll noted "I think it's a bit too dark for him, but I think it would look really good on Damian instead. He has this weird thing about green as a family colour or whatever, maybe I can make him something?"

Alya looked curiously as Marinette whipped out her sketchpad and sketched out a whole suit while lost in thought. She didn't take it personally, she knew this was just how the other girl could sometimes get when particularly inspired. Interested, she noted that it had been the thought of Damian that did it this time. But then again, Marinette's mind sometimes worked in the strangest ways, and Alya knew better than to pry or interrupt her. So, she just picked up the story where she had left it, knowing it would eventually find its way into Marinette's brain.

"Anyway, at the end the dude was totally crying and I hadn't even done much yet, you'd totally be proud of me girl-"

In the end, Alya couldn't shake her curiosity. Trying to google the guy didn't help much when she didn't have a surname, and look, she just wanted to know the guy was alright. Not that she didn't trust Marinette's judgement, on the contrary, but it would be nice to have a bit more to go off on. Asking Marinette straight up didn't help much either, only getting her vague answers. But as she offhandedly mentioned it to her friends when Marinette was away again, she found they were also eager to bring up their curiosity.

"We don't even know what he looks like! But she likes him enough that she makes him fancy clothes of her own volition!" Chloé lamented dramatically. Although she would never admit it, she was a bit miffed she couldn't find out anything about Damian either. Even her sources couldn't tell her anything, and they usually never failed her.

"I think we should just be happy she is designing again, no matter the reason."

They all fell silent at Kagami's words, remembering how bad the period after Hawkmoth's defeat had been. It was only then Marinete's cracks had visibly begun to show to all of them, partly through several months void of the usual creative outlets and other emotions in general. It had been... rough, to say at the least.

"Still though. I don't think she has designed this much for one person since, disregarding Jagged's commissions. And she doesn't even talk about him! I mean, when I'm alone with her she always talks about all of you like you hung up the moon. I don't think she has talked about one person she likes as little as... as Luka."

Nino looked at his girlfriend incredulously. "Are you seriously suggesting Marinette has a crush on Damian? She barely ever even sees him."

Alya simply shrugs. "I mean, probably not, but it can't hurt to think of all bases, right? But okay, what do you think about this: he is a secret assassin and Marinette made him normal by the power of friendship and now she has to constantly like, check up on him to make sure he doesn't go back to the darkside. No, listen, hear me out-"

Somehow, although they didn't know it, reality had been even stranger. Or well, if they had met years ago Alya could maybe even have been right, but as it was Damian hadn't been part of the "dark side" for a very long time, nor was he in danger of going back. Maybe that would have been sort of preferable to Marinette, but she still supposed her situation wasn't that bad, even though, yes, she was technically speaking kind of stuck. Trying to explain this to her friends was... a feat.

This is all to say they had found out. It happened when she had invited all her friends over to New York to attend a fashion show she had been allowed to design a small piece for when accidentally gaining attention from yet another designer. When afterwards they were just taking a stroll through the city, all talking excitedly, a beautiful woman had come up to Marinette and taken her aside to talk without paying any heed to her friends. For some reason, they started talking in Mandarin. It wasn't a very long conversation, which ended by the woman patting Marinette on the head and walking away again.

When she turned around, she found all her friends staring at her, dumbfounded.

"What?"

"How the hell do you know Talia Head?" Chloé demanded.

Somehow, Marinette only looked at them blankly, like she had never heard that name in her life. Like she hadn't literally just been talking to the actual CEO of LexCorps. When Chloé told her this, recognition slowly dawned on the other girl.

"Right, Talia. I forgot she's doing that now. Hm. I wonder who she has designing for her, I should ask her..."

This time, she pulled out a notebook the others hadn't ever seen before, filling it with the strangest characters. There seemed to be some structure to it, possibly making it a language, but it wasn't one any of them had ever seen before.

Later, Marinette would chalk it up to her unfortunately being distracted, but when Alya asked her how she knew Talia then, if it apparently wasn't for her currently being one of the most well known business persons in the world, she just replied "She's my mother-in-law?" like this was a known fact.

As several voices shrieked "YOU'RE MARRIED??" Marinette suddenly remembered she had not, in fact, told her friends about her marriage yet.

"I mean, yes, more or less? It happened when I went to China again, and I met this League of uh. League of Assassins. But their leader knew a lot about the Miracle Box and he told me he would share everything with me if I married his grandson. Also that I would probably die if I didn't, but honestly I had hit a dead end so I really needed his knowledge, you know? It's fine though, I don't even know if it's like, legally binding. Also we didn't have to do anything besides be married, so. Pretty good deal actually!"

"HE WHAT-" "ASSASSINS?" "MARINETTE"

It took a lot of time for her friends to settle down, and to accept that she was fine and not under constant threat of being assassinated. It was a whole ordeal. Eventually though, it was Adrien who settled it by quietly asking her whether her husband at least treated her well.

"I mean, sure, I guess? He's chill. Also, I am provided with so much more knowledge now, I feel like you're not properly considering that pa-."

She was interrupted by a strange noise coming from her phone. She glanced down, fully prepared to ignore it for the more pressing matters at hand, but upon seeing who had texted her she decided to reply anyway.

"Hang on, he's texting me, I need to answer this."

Random American dude???

My family just found out that I got married. They're being really annoying about it.

Snorting, she texted back, knowing her friends were still watching her every move.

Vous

Funny how that works, my friends did too just now

I blame your mother tho

She then showed her phone to her friends. "See? Damian and I are fine."

It was Alya who made the connection first.

"Wait, if you've actually been married to Damian all along, and your mother in law is Talia Head…"

"MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG DID YOU MARRY DAMIAN FUCKING WAYNE?"

Taglist:

@nerd-nowandforever @prettykittytanjiro @toughluna @meira-3919 @taewinterbear95 @maanae @hammalammadamdam @swaggermcjagger @countessdragon @starscreamlover @snorlaxly-tired @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @kaitense1 @wildcardjoey @dramatic-squirrel @leftguard66 @mimblizzy @mikami1992 @tinybrie @theg0ddesspersephone @psychicdelusionwerewolf @folk-ever-lore

#maribat #daminette #maridami #mlb x dc #maribat fic #fleur writes

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2dmenenthusiast · 2 years

Text

"It's certainly Heaven if you're here, Darlin'."

(John Marston x Gn!Reader)

Holy shit it's finished!!! I literally started this fic back in MARCH. But you know what it's my longest fic ever and I'm proud of it. Also There is SMUT in this bad boy, so it might be ass, just a warning. But I hope ya'll enjoy!

ALSO Abigail is with everyone at the end but I genuinely forgot to add her lmaoo

Reblogs and feedback are always encouraged and appreciated!!

Summary: You're life with John was constantly filled with ups and downs. Hopefully you can both make it together in one piece.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings/other info: SMUT (if you want to skip it, it's right after John says I love you for the first time), description of injury, swearing, uhh Arthur and Kieran live because I said so, reader is gender nuetral as always.

“Hey, would you- ow!”

“Well stop flinching, ya fool!”

John sighed as you scolded him, lightly slapping at his chest before continuing to sew up the gashes on his face. He winced every time the needle pushed through his skin, the hand that rested on your knee squeezing every so often as he tried not to think about the pain.

“I’m almost finished,” you muttered, carefully pushing his soaked hair out of his face and rolling the needle between your thumb and finger a few times, making sure you had a good hold on it since your fingers felt numb from the cold. He watched you as you worked, eyes trained on the way your lips pressed together when you concentrated, your brows slightly furrowed. If he felt shitty before, he felt even more so now. He could deal with Abigail scolding him for being stupid, but he couldn’t take the worried look you had when his injured body was pulled off of Javier’s horse and into the house, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. But you didn’t cry. You turned to Jack and let him know his daddy was going to be okay, put on a brave face so his boy wouldn’t worry about his idiot of a father. You were… something else.

Gently lifting John’s head, you carefully wrapped gauze around his wounds once you finished stitching him up, making sure it was secure around his head. “Now, for the rest of our time up here, do you think you could possibly not get yourself into any more trouble?” you asked, resting your hand on John’s chest.

“‘Course, Darlin’. Don’t think I could manage to get up to much while I’m laying here.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d figure out a way.”

Your lips quirked up in a smile, a sight John loved to see, and he brought a hand up to rest it over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Think you could stay for a bit?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think about it. “Well, considering we’re snowed in on top of a mountain, I don’t suppose there’s anything better for me to do.”

John scoffed, shaking his head and immediately regretting it. “Shut up.”

“You’re gonna have to make me, cowboy.” There was that teasing lilt to your voice that always had John’s heart racing, and if he weren’t bedridden at the moment, he’d kiss that smug look off your face.

“Oh, you best believe I will once I’m up and about again.”

You laughed, the sound like wind chimes in his ears. “Alright. I guess I’ll have to take you up on that.”

John let out a hum, and you pushed down on his shoulder when he tried to sit up from the bed to kiss you, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

You’re hurt.

He just shrugged, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward.

I don’t care.

You shook your head with a smile as you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lips, being mindful of his injuries. Of course, you were oblivious to the prying eyes in the cabin that just watched the short unspoken exchange. Abigail smiled to herself and looked back at the fire.

Damn fool, she thought.

Your time in Horseshoe Overlook was finally starting to ignite some hope in you as the gang sang around the campfire to celebrate Sean’s return. Javier was strumming on his guitar, but you could barely hear it over the loud caterwauling of your friends. You laughed when the Irishman tripped over a nearby log as he drunkenly stumbled around, but the contents of his bottle was soon all over your shirt, and you let out a gasp when the cold liquid seeped through the fabric and touched your skin. Sean profusely apologized, slurred syllables coming out to try and form coherent sentences. You waved him off with a smile and told him not to worry about it. He was home, he should celebrate.

Standing from your seat, you left the warmth of the fire and walked over to your tent, a shiver rolling up your spine. A pair of arms were suddenly around your waist, and you let out a yelp when you were lifted from the ground and someone’s face was pressed into your shoulder.

“John!” Your hands quickly gripped his arms, fingers digging into the sleeves of his union suit as he set you down. He chuckled against your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin before he let out a soft hum and tightened his arms around you.

“Where you been?”

“Uh, by the fire?”

Another hum, and you slightly tensed when his lips pressed against your neck before relaxing back into his chest.

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah well, Sean spilled his beer on me, I was gonna go get changed.”

Laying a few more kisses on your neck, John let go of you before grabbing your hand and leading you to your shared tent. Pulling back the flap, he let you in first and made sure to close the tent behind you both so you could undress without prying eyes, and you made quick work of unbuttoning your shirt, eager to get something warmer on. As you searched for something clean to wear, you sucked in sharply when you felt John’s rough hands on your shoulders, the noise devolving into a soft moan when he dug his thumbs into your tense muscles. His deft fingers made their way down your spine, memorizing every freckle and mole and mark like he hadn’t already done so a thousand other times. Once his hands reached your hips, he spun you around and hooked his fingers in the belt loops of your pants, pulling you close so you fell against his chest.

“Jeez, someone’s a little touchy when they’re drunk, hm?” you teased, hands coming up to push your fingers through his hair.

He leaned forward, his forehead gently knocking against yours. “Mm, well, when you look so lovely, how can I resist?”

You let out a chuckle, pushing at his chest. “Stop trying to be romantic, Marston. It doesn’t suit you.”

“M’serious.” There was a sudden stillness in the air as John pulled back to get a proper look at you, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw. “I think you’re… wonderful.”

Warmth blossomed in your chest and you smiled, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind his ear before pressing your lips to his uninjured cheek.

“Well, maybe romance is something you’re good at, cowboy.”

“Don’t know much about that. Just that it’s easier when it comes to you.”

“Wow. You know, I think that might be the sappiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, ‘cause you’re never gonna get to see me like this again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely keeping a tally.”

You yelped when John pinched your behind, and he promptly silenced you with a less than gentle kiss, his hand resting on the back of your neck as you looped your arms around his shoulders. He was all teeth and tongue as his nose clumsily knocked against your own, hands quickly wandering down and making quick work on unbuttoning your pants. You let out a sharp gasp into his mouth when his hand unceremoniously shoved down the front of your trousers, and he swallowed every desperate sound you made with eager lips.

“Fuck. John-”

"Woah! Guess this tent was occupied! You're a bloody animal, John Marston!"

John was quick to shield you from Sean and Karen, facing his back to them and using his body to hide your own. You let your head fall against his chest, your face heating up from embarrassment.

“Hey!- Would you get the hell outta here?!”

Sean whistled and wiggled his eyebrows, making light of the humiliating situation before grabbing Karen’s hand and stumbling off somewhere else so they could have their privacy after drunkenly invading yours. Once they were gone, you let out a groan and pushed away from John, grabbing the first clean shirt you saw and quickly slipping it on.

“I don’t even wanna think about what they were gonna do in our tent,” you muttered as you fastened the buttons.

John shrugged. “I imagine it was what we were about to do.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your balled up, ruined shirt and throwing it at his face as you laughed. “Don’t think I’m so easy, Marston. Gonna take a lot more than your drunken confessions of love to get me in bed.”

“You say that like I haven’t done less to get you in bed.”

You pinned him with a stare, one that had John chuckling before he threw your shirt to the side and held out his hand. “C’mon.”

Letting out a sigh, you accepted his outstretched hand and let him drag you back to the festivities, leading you back to the fire where mostly everyone seemed to congregate. Sitting down, he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you hummed along to the familiar raunchy tune everyone was singing. But John wasn’t focussed on the song, he was focussed on you, watching you sing with a smile on your face, slightly swaying in his lap. He watched the way the fire danced in your eyes and listened to your lovely voice join in with the other’s. He swore that one day, it wouldn’t take being in a drunken stupor to have the courage to say those sappy confessions to you.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay to pull a job right now?”

“It’s just some cattle we’re gonna be handlin’. Not robbing a bank,” John said, pulling on his boots.

You stood a few feet away from him, brows furrowed in a worried expression as you fidgeted with your hands. “I know, it’s just… anything could happen. I mean, I know we need the money, and I’m just worrying, but everything’s just been so hectic lately and I-”

“Darlin’.”

You sighed, clenching and unclenching your hands before forcing your shoulders to relax. “Right, sorry. It’s fine. I know you’ll be fine.”

John wanted to smile at how much you seemed to fret over him. Ever since he got injured, it was rare to see you not by his side. He knew that was partially why you were so worried. The fact that he was going to do this job, and you weren’t going to be with him. But you knew that eventually he had to get himself back out there. He couldn’t be on bed rest forever. Dutch wouldn’t let him. But more so, he wouldn’t let himself.

“I’ll be back tonight, alright? I’m takin’ Arthur with me, so things should go smoothly.”

You scoffed. “Right, hopefully before one of you ends up putting a bullet in the other. The pair of you act like stubborn children when you’re around each other.”

John sighed, standing up from his cot before coming closer, running his hands up and down your arms to try and give you some comfort. “Listen, if I’m not back by sundown, you have all the right to holler at me about how dumb or reckless or inconsiderate I am, and whatever else you manage to come up with in the meantime, alright?”

“... You forgot stubborn.”

He just chuckled, his heart swelling with adoration for you. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the way you worried about him. He placed a kiss against your hairline and gave your arms a squeeze before exiting his tent, you following after him. You watched as he mounted his horse and left camp, letting out a deep breath before walking over to Abigail’s tent. Jack was sitting on the ground next to her, playing with his wooden toys.

“That fool finally leave?” she asked, and you chuckled as you sat down next to her, leaning back on your hands.

“Yeah. I swear, Abigail, I don’t know how you put up with him as long as you did. He can be so… so-”

“Infuriating? Idiotic? Stupid? Shall I go on?”

You laughed, tilting your head and mindlessly watching her son play. “A combination of all of those things, I guess.”

Abigail just shrugged, looking at the pair of Jack’s pants in her hands and continuing to sew the hole in them. “Well, you think he’s bad now, he was even worse back then. A dumb fool when I had Jack. But I will say… he’s gotten better in the past few months.”

“Maybe. I’ve been hounding him about spending more time with his son. Not that it’s really my place but… I don’t know. I like what we are, and I like that you and I have a good relationship. I’d never forget that you and Jack are still his family and a part of his life. I’m just- I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.”

“Hold on now,” she set down the pair of pants, giving you her full attention, “has that idiot said something to make you feel like that?”

“Well… no. But I-”

“Darlin’, If you ever overstep, believe me, I will tell you if you are. You acknowledge that Jack and I are part of his life, well, I acknowledge that you’re part of his. And I-” She sighed, looking over at Jack for a moment as she pressed her lips together, thinking of what to say. “I’m glad that he has someone like you to kick him in the right direction when he starts down that stupid path of his. John and I, we made our peace a long time ago, and I wouldn’t put you in between any leftover nonsense we have. It’s mostly just about Jack now, anyways, and I can see that you care for the boy more than his own father does sometimes.” When she looked back at you, she reached over and placed a hand on your knee. “You’re good for him. And… I’m more than happy to realize the fact that you’re a part of this family, too.”

There were tears in your eyes when she finished speaking, her reassuring words wrapping around your heart and squeezing like a warm embrace. You could see what John saw in Abigail. She was beautiful and strong, didn’t take any nonsense from others. You were glad to call her your friend. Smiling, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, lightly sniffling.

“Wow, John was a real fool to let someone like you go,” you said, and Abigail laughed before continuing to sew up Jack’s pants.

“Believe me, if he does anything to screw up what you two have, he will not hear the end of it from me.”

Rage couldn’t possibly begin to describe the emotion bubbling up inside of you as you stormed through camp, fists clenched tightly at your sides and eyes sweeping over everyone, trying to find a specific face. You could see Micah coming towards you out of your peripherals, wearing that sleazy smirk on his face like your anger awoke something in him. Your lip tugged up in an almost snarl when he opened his mouth to speak, but you quickly rushed past him, making a point to ram your shoulder into his as you walked by. You didn’t have time nor the energy to deal with Micah’s bullshit antics right now. You already had one idiot cowboy to deal with.

“Marston!”

Heads shot up in your direction at your voice, hands pausing in their chores to try and get a proper listen at what was happening. You could hardly care about all that though when the lithe man you were looking for stepped out of the Shady Belle home, a brow raised in question as he came down the steps.

“Darlin’, you alright?”

You jerked back when John tried to reach out to touch you, raising a finger at him. “Don’t you pull that with me, right now. Don’t try and act dumb even if you’re a god damn master at it. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

There was a brief pause as his gaze made its way around the individual faces of the gang before eventually coming back to yours, like he would find the answer to your question in their expressions. “I… What are you talkin’ about?”

“Christ, Jack, you insufferable ass! You couldn’t be bothered to tell me he was gone?! You couldn’t find the time to slip that into casual conversation?!”

John got that look on his face that he always did when he started to put his guard up: that hard look in his eyes and his jaw set, shoulders squared as he deflected every word you threw at him. You fucking hated it. Hated that he was about to pull that bullshit tough act that he always did, especially with you.

“When the hell was I supposed to tell you? You’ve barely been at camp these past three days!”

“I was here all last night! You’re the one who’s been avoiding me, turning the other way whenever I try to even get close to you! I-” Tears of anger quickly welled up in your eyes, blinking a few times to try to keep them from falling. You didn’t catch the way John’s expression faltered for a moment. “I could’ve helped. The Braithwaite’s, I should’ve been there!”

John knew you were right. You were just as much family to Jack as the rest of the gang was, maybe even more so. He knew what you were saying made sense, and that you had every right to be upset. But nobody ever said John was able to see reason through his stubbornness.

“What does it matter, anyway? He’s not your child. You’re not his family! What concerns my family shouldn’t be any of your damn business!”

It felt as if you had been stabbed. Like he had carved a hole in your body where he could reach between your ribs and tear your heart out . Your breath hitched in your throat, a rogue tear quickly falling before you could make any effort to stop it. The camp around you stilled, the silence deafening as John’s words rang in your ears, and you sniffled, slowly nodding to yourself.

“Okay. If that’s how you see it… You don’t have to worry about me being in your business anymore.”

There was a brief moment where he just stared at you, a million thoughts echoing in his head, but by the time he opened his mouth to say anything, you were already gone, making your way back to your horse and riding out of camp. He watched your retreating figure until he couldn’t make you out anymore, letting out a sigh as he turned away, and he briefly caught the stares of everyone around camp before they all went about their own tasks, pretending as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

Well, he supposed him making a fool out of himself wasn’t so unordinary after all.

***

“Come on, everyone! Let’s celebrate!”

There were cheers following Dutch’s exclamation, the gang gathering around the campfire and singing joyfully while Javier played a cheery tune on his guitar. You were glad Jack was back, glad that he was reunited with the people that loved and cared for him deeply.

You watched the celebration from afar, leaning against a tree as you observed everyone’s smiling faces. Of course, you wanted to join in, but everytime you gathered the courage to finally sit down with everyone, you would make out John’s face in the crowd and immediately sink in on yourself, his words from earlier repeating in your head.

His family was none of your business.

Despite those reassuring words Abigail said to you all those months ago, you wondered if you were ever part of their family. If John cared for you enough to even consider you as such. All those shared moments in private, whispered confessions between chaste kisses, the almost ‘I love you’s’ that were never said, but were conveyed through loving actions; did they mean anything to him? Were they just a forgetful blip in his life that he’d leave behind, along with any remnants of you?

The way he seemed to hold your entire world in his hands made you feel pathetic. How he hung the stars and moon, like you were some lovesick idiot who went sweet on a man who probably didn’t need you. You let him take your heart, something you once so preciously guarded behind stone walls that he managed to tear down with that dry wit and rebellious nature of his. What a fool you’ve been, to even think that there would ever be a future with a man such as John Marston.

“Hey.”

Snapping your head up, you cleared your throat and straightened your posture as Arthur made his way over to you, fingers lazily hooked into his belt. You felt tense as he leaned against the tree next to you, his shoulder grazing yours.

“Ya know, you don’t have to put on a brave face in front of me. I’ve known you long enough to know you’re fakin’ it.”

You sighed at his words, your body immediately slumping back against the tree as you let your body relax. “I’m uh, I’m guessing you heard that entire shit show at camp earlier?”

Arthur huffed. “Yeah, had to deal with the aftermath, too. Between getting Jack and figuring out how he was gonna apologize to you, that boy’s mind was a mess the entire ride there and back.”

You snorted, the idea of John being so distraught over you seeming almost unbelievable.

“Well, I bet most of that was because of his son. I can only imagine what he must’ve been going through.”

The quiet ambiance quickly filled the gaps in conversation, the singing from the gang combining with the loud chirping of the crickets. All it did was make you think. How could John not see that you cared for Jack too? That you’d give anything to see that boy safe and happy?

“You were right, you know. To be upset. Hell, I’m sure he’s heard enough from me and Abigail about how much of an idiot he’s been around you.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t have to do that. His son went missing, I can understand why he was acting that way, or why he said the things he did-”

“Doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.”

“I pushed him, Arthur. He was going through something, and I got angry and made it all about me when I could’ve just talked to him after everything was said and done… this is my fault.”

“Hey,” Arthur turned to fully face you, leveling you with that stare of his that made you feel like a kid, “that boy is your family, too, and you had every right to worry about him. Don’t let what John said change that fact.”

Letting out a sigh, you leaned forward and rested your head against Arthur’s chest, feeling exhausted from the long day. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, a hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Thanks, Arthur.”

“Of course, kid.” There was a crunch in the grass, and you and Arthur looked up to see John slowly coming over to you. “Speak of the devil.” Pulling away, he gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and stared at John as he passed him, the younger man holding eye contact until he was out of his sight.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked down at your mud covered boots as John got closer. When he cleared his throat, you didn’t look up at him. There was a sigh, and then-

“M’sorry.”

You slowly raised your head, taking in John’s appearance. He looked exhausted, the fact that his son went missing clearly weighing on him. But he seemed more relaxed that Jack was back, even though at the moment he looked like an anxious wreck in front of you. You remained silent as you watched him, and John shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I wanted to keep listening to this half-assed apology you’re trying to give me.”

John scoffed and shook his head. “C’mon. Don’t be like that.”

“Don't be like what, John?” you pushed off the tree, walking towards him, “Don’t act like what you said hurt me? Like I haven’t been thinking about it all day?” He opened his mouth to speak, but you raised your hand to stop him and sighed. “Listen, I- I know how I acted earlier was dumb. I should’ve just talked to you about it. But… I care about you, okay? And Jack and Abigail, I would do anything for them. I’d do anything for you. God, I’m such a damn fool for you, John, I feel silly just thinking about it. What you said earlier? I just- I wanna know if you meant it. If you really want me out of your business, if you don’t want me getting between you and your family, I’ll stop. And then we can end… whatever this is, if you want.”

John’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer to you, and you hoped he couldn’t see how tears were on the verge of slipping down your face at the mere thought of him not wanting to be with you anymore. You weren’t so lucky though, as John reached out to wipe away the tears that had gathered under your eyes. He hated seeing your cry, especially when he was the one that caused it.

“Darlin’, of course I don’t wanna stop this. I- shit, I’m sorry I even made you think of somethin’ like that. And I’m sorry I said all those horrible things to you today. None of it was true. You are family, and whatever happens to Jack is as much your concern as it is mine and Abigail’s. I’m sorry for saying it wasn’t. So,” he huffed, running a hand through his hair, “I guess what I’m sayin’ is, I want you in my business, if you wanna be, that is.”

Your lips slowly split into a smile, and you moved to throw your arms around John’s shoulders. “John Marston, I would love nothing more than to be all up in your business,” you said with a laugh, and John’s mouth quirked up in that little half smile that you loved so much.

“Shuddup.”

You hummed, eyes trained on his lips before you leaned forward and kissed him, his arms coming up to wrap around you as the party continued on in the background.

“Fuck!”

Ducking behind cover, you brought your hand up to your shoulder with a pained grunt, pulling it back to reveal your blood covered palm. That was gonna be a bitch to get out later. You tried pushing the pain aside as you reloaded your pistol, popping your head out and nailing an O'driscoll right in the head.

Fuck this cursed, swamp infested state!

There was a shout of your name, and you looked over to see John behind a wagon, looking at you with concern evident in his expression. You waved him off, letting him know you’d be fine. Your exchange was interrupted when you heard a blood curdling scream, and you lifted your head to see that an O’Driscoll had Mary-Beth by the arm, dragging her away as she tried to fight him off.

You didn’t hesitate as you ran from cover towards her, shouting at her to get down and lifting your gun, putting three bullets in the bastard’s chest. He fell with a heavy thud, and Mary-Beth turned to you with a terrified expression before you shoved her towards where the rest of the gang had huddled for safety, telling her to run. You tried to follow her when an arm roughly curled around your waist, hauling you back as you kicked and yelled. You tried to point your gun towards them, but it was quickly knocked out of your hand before something cold and sharp was pressed against your neck.

“Don’t try anythin’ funny now, yeah? You won’t wanna find out what happens then,” he said, his hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.

You cringed at the stench of him, body thrashing and driving your foot into his shin. He let you go with a howl of pain. Spinning to face him, you surged forward and tackled him to the ground, barely giving him any time to react as your fist came down over and over again. But he began to swing wildly with his knife, and the blade sunk deep into your thigh. You cried out, white hot pain surging through your leg, and the momentary distraction gave him the upper hand, throwing you off him and yanking the knife out of your skin.

“Hooo-wee! We got a feisty one here, boys! Too bad we can’t have more fun witchya,” he said, tongue running over his cracked lips.

Your lip raised in a snarl as you tried to fight him off using all your remaining strength, but he was determined, bringing the knife up and aiming for your chest. Panic surged through you, hands shooting out to grab at his wrist. You couldn’t die like this. At the hands of a fucking O’Driscoll?! A shot rang out before he could bring the knife down, blood spraying over your face and his brains blowing out the back of his head. You quickly pushed his limp body off of you as John desperately called out to you.

You almost collapsed from the pain in your leg when you tried to stand, bringing your hand down to put pressure on it, but fuck it was deep, and it hurt like hell.

Your voice was hoarse when you called John’s name, and he was by your side in an instant, eyes frantically searching over you.

“Come on, we gotta get you outta here.”

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he helped you stand. He was quick to get you to safety, lifting you up into the back of one of the wagons.

“Shit, you’re hurt pretty bad.”

“I’ll live, you go finish them off.”

“Darlin’-”

“Go! I’ll be fine.”

He looked at you for a moment, your words rolling around in his head for a moment before he sighed and nodded, leaning down to give you a searing kiss. He hopped out of the wagon, immediately firing at the remaining O’Driscoll’s, and you looked around you for something to cover your wound with. Letting out a groan when you found nothing, you pulled out your knife and moved to the edge of the wagon, wincing as you got up onto your knees. Brining your knife up, you cut out a piece of the canvas cover of the wagon. Grimshaw would be upset, but you’d take her wrath over bleeding out any day.

Or, wait-

No, don’t be stupid!

Shaking your head, you tied the cloth tightly around your thigh with a groan, teeth tightly clenched as you leaned back. You hoped this all would be over soon.

Your prayers were answered when the gunfire ceased, and you cautiously poked your head out of the back of the wagon to see the rest of the O’Driscoll’s were dead, much to your relief. You attempted to get out of the wagon, but were quickly stopped when Charles came rushing over to you.

“Woah, woah, woah. Take it slow,” he said, reaching out to you.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles carefully lifted you by your hips and set you down on the muddy ground, letting you use him as a crutch as you walked towards the gang.

“Oh, shit, kid,” Arthur grimaced when he noticed you. You waved him off.

“I’m okay.”

“Okay?! You’ve been shot and stabbed, for Christ's sake!”

“Wow, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as John came rushing over to you, taking Charles’s place as your human crutch.

“Come on, we gotta get outta here now. Before more of those bastards show up,” Dutch said.

The man began barking out orders to the gang, and John helped you back to the wagon, making sure to grab some medical supplies along the way.

“Here, I’m gonna have Abigail come and patch you up.”

“Good idea, knowing you, you’d probably put another hole in me.” John sighed, giving you a pointed look that had you shrugging your shoulders and immediately regretting it as you were quickly reminded of the bullet lodged in one of them.

“Christ, could you stop for two seconds?”

You raised a brow. “Stop what?”

“Stop!- Shit, stop making me worry about you. You could’ve died today. Ain’t nothin’ to be making jokes about.”

“John, I’m fine-”

“But you almost weren’t! How can you be so casual about this? The person I love almost dies, and you’re just-”

“You love me?”

John froze, lips parting like he was trying to find the right words to say. John Marston was never certain about a lot of things, but one thing he was sure about was just how much he loved you. He loved you so much it physically hurt, his heart wrenching whenever you cried, his mood lifting when you’d smile at him. He felt almost blessed just to breathe your air, to be able to hold you and kiss you. The fact that he got to call you his was unfathomable to him. Yet here he was, your face gently cradled in his hands like you’d shatter the moment he was too rough with you. Clearly John did something right in his life to end up so fortunate to have you in it.

Wetting his lips, John brushed his thumb over your cheek, smearing the blood on your face that hadn’t completely dried yet.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Darlin’.”

Bottom lip quivering, you threw your arms around him, not caring about the screaming pain in your shoulder. It felt like any words you wanted to say had been stolen from you, too overwhelmed to properly express just how much you felt. The only thing you could do was mutter a quiet, “I love you, too,” into his neck, his arms carefully winding around you.

We’re gonna be okay.

You can’t remember the last time you got to relax like this. The last time you felt this good.

You muffled a gasp into John’s shoulder when he hit you with a particularly hard thrust, reaching places deep inside you that you couldn’t even recall anyone else having discovered. Maybe it was the fact that you almost died a few days ago, but holy fuck, he was something else in that moment.

You tried to keep quiet as to not alert the rest of the camp, but god he felt so fucking good inside of you. You could barely contain your moans that so desperately wanted to slip out every time he pulled out and pushed himself back in. And when he reached down between your bodies and began playing with the most sensitive part of you, you almost lost it right then and there.

“Fuck, Darlin’. I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep squeezin’ me like that,” John groaned, lips pressed against your pulse as you keened.

He’d been extra handsy tonight, too. Always touching some part of you whether it be his hand pressed against your lower back or his side brushing against yours when he stood close to you. You couldn’t get away from him all day. He followed your figure with hungry eyes when you did literally anything around camp. When you finally noticed, you knew you were in for it. He was fucking burning for you when you retreated to your tent for the night, pawing at your clothes the second the tent flap closed behind him. He was so eager, he ripped a few buttons off your shirt trying to pull it off you, but you didn’t have it in you to yell at him. You were just as desperate as he was.

“C’mon. I wanna hear you.”

You shook your head, burying your face into his neck. Beaver Hollow was cramped. It felt like all of you were living right on top of each other. There was no way no one would hear.

His hand came down and gripped the back of your thigh, pushing your leg up and spreading you further apart, and he let out a grunt when he felt your teeth sink into his shoulder. Pulling back, his other hand came up to grip your jaw, stilling his hips as he forced you to look at him.

“You holdin’ out on me, sweetheart?”

His hips rolled tightly against your own, your jaw dropping open as your head fell back against the bedroll.

“Don’t- mmh- Don’t fuckin’ tease me, Marston.” He chuckled against your collar bone. He was being cute, but he still wasn’t fucking moving. “I swear to god, if you don’t move right now I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

He snorted that time, only slightly relieving you with the smallest movement of his hips. You didn’t even really mind if you finished, having already come minutes before when he had gone down on you like a man starved. But you were fucking aching for more than just his mouth, and his cock just fit inside you so nicely-

You scrambled to slap your hand over your mouth when he suddenly resumed his thrusts, your back arching up from the bedroll as a rough hand dragged down your front. You choked on a moan when he sat back on his knees and lifted you up into his lap, his hands guiding your hips. Your hand pressed flat against his solid chest, the fingers on your other hand curling into his hair and tugging him forward to sloppily force his lips against yours.

“Fuck!” you gasped, unable to contain the moan that came tumbling out as you held onto him for dear life.

All hopes of being quiet were lost after that, delicious moans pouring out of you that had John picking up the pace so you could both reach your end. You were a bit confused when he laid you back down and pressed his hand against your mouth, his motions stopping, and you whined for him to continue. You arched your hips up desperately, but quickly understood why he stopped when you heard footsteps getting closer to your tent. You silently prayed for them to go away, but your widened eyes met with John’s when you felt him slowly begin to move, and you quickly shook your head against his hand.

He ignored you, slowly pushing in and out, and the feeling had you biting into the flesh of his hand. He didn’t move it, your hands coming up to grip his wrist. You were worried, but the risk of getting caught, the way John felt inside you, it had you cumming in seconds. John was right behind you with a quiet groan, the feeling of you finishing with him inside you sending him over the edge, and the steps slowly retreated.

He gently pulled out with a sigh and collapsed beside you, both of you working to catch your breath.

“God, I really hope that wasn’t Micah,” you muttered breathlessly.

“Eugh. Don’t make me think about him right now.”

You laughed, and John pinched your side. “Guess we’ll see what he says tomorrow, then.”

It went without saying, Beaver Hollow was without a doubt your least favorite camp spot. It was dark, creepy, and there were possible cannibals lurking throughout the woods. However, despite all those things, the starry night sky was a breathtaking sight.

“Ooh, and that one, that one’s Orion.” you said, pointing up at the sky.

John chuckled from his spot beside you. “You sure know a lot about this stuff, huh?”

You shrugged, lightly squeezing his hand that rested between you. “Not really. I just know the little bit my mother taught me. Orion’s always been my favorite.”

You heard John let out a hum as you continued to look at the stars, unaware of the fact that he had shifted his gaze over to you. There was something about the way you’d talk about things you were interested in that had warmth swirling around in his chest. The way your eyes would light up and you’d get this smile on your face that rivaled the stars you thought of so dearly. He’d never admit it, but that smile was his favorite sight to see after a long day, even if it meant only seeing it after being lectured over how much of an inconsiderate fool he’d been earlier. Still, it was always worth it.

The distant chattering of the gang and the loud chirping of crickets filled the silence between you, a gentle breeze shaking the leaves of the trees and causing a chill to run through you. After a little while, you finally looked over to meet John’s eyes.

“You know, the view is up there,” you said.

John turned on his side, propping his elbow up so he could rest his head in his hand, “Yeah, but I got a better one next to me.”

You scoffed, reaching over and slapping his shoulder as he chuckled, and you turned to face him as well. "Well, you're not so bad to look at yourself," you muttered, reaching out to play with the loose thread of his shirt.

John immediately shook his head. "I'm an ugly bastard, no need to lie to me. I know these scars aren't exactly nice to look at."

"Oh, quite the contrary, actually," you said, moving your hand to carefully run your fingers over said scars. You started at his lip, your thumb brushing over it, before mapping out the ones on his cheek. "You know, some people find scars incredibly sexy."

John raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. And one of those said people just happen to be me." You leaned forward before he could respond with some self deprecating joke and pressed your lips to his, continuing to caress his scarred cheek.

He hummed into the kiss, hand slowly trailing down your back before he rolled over, and you laughed against his mouth as you fell on top of him. Pressing a hand against his chest, the other came up to rest against his cheek as you trailed kisses over his jaw, and his hands fell to your hips, his hold possessive and wanting. You softly gasped when his fingers made their way under your shirt, his skin rough and warm. You pulled away before it could go any further, and John let out a displeased sigh that had you chuckling.

“I know, I know. But, we’re not exactly alone,” you said, glancing up at the rest of the gang, some sitting by the fire, and the rest sound asleep.

“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before.”

You pinched his side before laying your head against his chest, feeling him shake underneath you as he laughed. “Well, yeah, but that was different. It was the middle of the night and everyone was already asleep. Not every single person in camp had the potential to hear us.”

“You sure about that? I mean, with how loud you are-”

“Marston, you finish that sentence and I will never let you touch me again.”

He let out another laugh that had you smiling. You always loved his laugh, the sound being so foreign these days. You wished he had more reasons to be happy. You wished that for all of you. You closed your eyes as John ran his hand up and down your back, and you listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“John… Do you think we’ll make it out of this? I mean, things aren’t exactly looking up from here. Everything with Dutch, I just-"

"Hey, we're gonna get outta here. You, me, Jack, Abigail, and Arthur, we're gonna be safe."

He was right. You wanted him to be right. It was hard to imagine, though, when everything seemed to be crumbling around you. The Pinkertons and the O'Driscoll's constantly appearing, killing your friends. Dutch’s ideals and beliefs blurred day by day as his greed and his need to win grew. How could you possibly see a positive end to all this chaos? Despite all that, you tried to focus on the here and now, your body held safely in John’s arms, where you felt safest.

"I miss them," you whispered, your eyes welling up at the thought of all the friends you lost. Your family.

"Me too, Darlin'. Me too."

You knew that you should’ve left with the others. God, you fucking knew. You had talked about it with John before, about taking off in the middle of the night, taking Arthur, Abigail, and Jack with you, but he was on the fence. It was always a “maybe,” or “eventually,” and you felt like ripping your hair out. The pressure you felt to leave only increased when John got taken by the law and Dutch did absolutely nothing but scheme with Micah all day. He constantly made empty promises to you and Abigail that he would get him back, but after days of waiting for the man to make good on his word, you grew restless, enlisting the help of Arthur and Sadie to go rescue him.

“I had a goddamn plan!” Dutch had yelled, and you were so furious, you didn’t even think when you got right in his face and jabbed your finger into his chest.

“And what was that, huh?! Wait a few more days until all you brought back was a fucking corpse?! There was talk of hangin’ him!”

“There was talk of hanging him. Talk!”

You almost drew your gun right then and there, teeth bared as you moved forward, but Arthur gripped your arm and pulled you back. Your head snapped towards Micah when you heard him chuckle, that stupid smirk on his face that you wanted nothing more than to wipe off.

“Whatever. You’re just lucky that you have your fucking pet snake here to protect you.”

Ever since then, there had been a clear tension between you and Dutch, so when he recruited you to go on this train job, you were shocked at first. After your fight you thought he’d want nothing to do with you. But when you thought about it, Dutch didn’t want you on the job because he liked you. No, he wanted you because you were strong and damn good with a gun. To him, you were just another body, a tool to help him get his greedy hands on what he wanted most.

You let out a grunt as you threw yourself onto the train cart from Javier’s horse, rolling onto your side and quickly hauling yourself up on your feet. “God, this is such fucking bullshit!” you muttered, loading bullets into your pistol.

“The train’s being robbed!”

Your head whirled, and you saw a man standing on top of the hill. Goddammit. “Let’s get this show on the road, gentlemen!” you yelled, John making quick work of unlatching the burning car, and you busied yourself with helping Arthur set up the Maxim gun.

You jostled with the explosion of the car, catching Arthur’s shoulder to steady yourself. Looking over at John, relief flooded you when you saw that he was uninjured. You took a step towards him when-

BANG!

“John!”

He stumbled back with the shot, your arm shooting out to try and grab him. Your fingers briefly brushed against his before he fell off the train. You didn’t think as you went to jump after him, but there was a strong arm around your torso pulling you back. You kicked and screamed, trying to get out of Arthur’s hold.

“Kid, no! You wanna get yourself killed?!”

You beat your fist down against his arm. “Let me go! Fuck, I have to help him! Arthur-!”

With enough force, you were able to twist yourself out of his grip, breathing erratically and your hands violently shaking. Arthur held his hands out, trying to get you to calm down, but his words fell on deaf ears when your eyes landed on the man on top of the cart. With a strangled cry, you raised your pistol and emptied it into the man, tears clouding your vision. You pulled the trigger a few more times and heard nothing but empty clicks, and your body collapsed forward onto your hands and knees. Dutch said something about getting John, but you barely registered the words, blood rushing in your ears and heart hammering against your chest. You couldn’t think, could barely even breathe. Arthur placed a hand on your shoulder and you pulled away like his touch burned you. You felt fucking sick. There was a white hot rage that bubbled up inside you and made your insides churn, and you willed your body to stand on shaking legs. Your teeth were clenched so tightly that your jaw started to ache, and as Arthur spoke to Bill, you grabbed your shotgun from your back and began moving up the train without them, hearing him shout for you.

You tore through every lawman in your way, tears rolling down your face as you channeled all your anger and grief into each shot you took. A man came running at you, and you swung your shotgun at his head, his body crumpling down at your feet. You pressed the barrel against his head and squeezed the trigger, blood splattering all over your clothes. You didn’t care, never once bothering to duck into cover, even as the lawmen riding in on their horses started shooting at you. You were too hurt to care, too angry.

As you moved further up the train, a man suddenly came out from behind a wooden crate and slammed into you with a shout, causing you to drop your gun as you stumbled into the wall. You huffed through your nose, your aching shoulder taking most of the blow, and quickly pulled your knife from your thigh. You didn’t feel scared or intimidated, not even as the man raised his gun in an attempt to shoot you. You were just fucking pissed.

You moved in before he could take the shot, swiping the gun out of his hand and using your body to slam him into the wall. Your arm was across his throat, his eyes widening in fear, and you thrust your knife up into his gut, the blade sinking satisfyingly into his flesh. You watched as the life drained from his eyes, blood gurgling up his throat and spilling out of his mouth before you finally let him fall to the ground.

“Kid!”

Arthur gripped your arm and pulled you back from the body, looking over your blood covered form as Sadie came up behind him.

“Come on! We gotta hurry.” She brushed past you both, and you gave Arthur a nod before pulling away from him and following after Sadie towards the armored car, avoiding the man’s concerned gaze. You just wanted to get off this godforsaken train and find John.

***

If I never have to do a train robbery again, I will die happy.

Your sore limbs screamed at you as you lifted yourself up from the dirt, letting out a pained groan. You could mark down ‘jumping off of a moving train’ as one of your absolute least favorite things to do.

“You okay?”

You glanced over at Arthur, a hefty bag of money resting on his shoulder. You nodded, brushing the dirt off of your clothes. “Just peachy.”

Grabbing your own bag, you followed Bill, Sadie and Arthur down the tracks, the sound of Hooves beating against the dirt getting closer until Dutch, Micah, and Javier stopped in front of you on their horses. There was something missing that you quickly noticed. Someone.

“Where’s John?” Arthur asked.

Dutch shook his head. “I tried. I tried.”

“He didn’t make it,” Micah added. “That patrol killed him.”

The heavy bag fell to your feet, and everyone’s eyes landed on you. Arthur could practically feel the rage radiating off of you, his eyes not able to catch how fast your hand moved as you unholstered your gun and aimed it directly at Micah’s head. No one made a single move after that for a few seconds until Micah’s idiot buddies finally regained their senses and scrambled for their own weapons, pointing them at you. Ordinarily, Micah probably wouldn’t have been phased by the action. He spent so much time spewing his mouth and pissing people off, he most likely couldn’t count how many times in a day a gun had been pointed at him. But the look on your face, that pure, unbridled rage that swirled behind your eyes, it made him nervous.

“You're full of shit.” you spat.

Micah glanced over at Dutch before letting out a chuckle, raising his hands. “Now, I assure you-”

“Both of you! You fucking bastards!”

“Kid, don’t-”

You ignored Arthur’s soft pleas, shifting your gun to Dutch. “You tried?! So you just left him? Is that it?! You fucking left him to die, and were so concerened with saving your own pathetic skin that you couldn’t even grab his body?!”

“There wasn’t time! We had to run! Goddammit, don’t you think I-”

“I don’t think you did anything, Dutch! I think you’re a god damned liar and a traitor!”

Gun shaking in your hand, you finally lowered it after a moment, a broken sob clawing its way up your throat. He can’t be dead. He can’t be. Sadie softly uttered your name and took a cautious step towards you. Concern was written all over her face, gently placing a hand on the center of your back. Sadie showed more care for you in that moment than Dutch had in the past month. And you were abruptly reminded of the fact that, no, Dutch didn’t care about anyone but himself and his own personal gain. Maybe, maybe there was a time long ago when we would’ve gladly given his life for any one of you sorry fools. But now? Any love he had left for you had been weeded out. Speeding over to your horse, you mounted up and connected your gaze with Arthur’s. You didn’t have to say anything for him to know what you were about to do, and his simple nod told you everything you needed to know.

Be careful.

Taking a deep breath, your hands tightened on the reins and you spurred your horse into a gallop, not looking back when Dutch angrily shouted your name. You didn’t care what he’d do to you when you got back to camp, you needed to know for sure what John’s fate was. And if he was dead…

If he’s dead, I’ll fucking kill him!

You followed the train tracks and tried to remember where he fell, looking out for any unique landmarks. How could they just leave him? After everything he’s been through with this gang, his whole life dedicated to what Dutch stood for, and he fucking left him. It was heartbreaking watching the man you once valued as a leader devolve into the power hungry fanatic he was today. He preached honor and loyalty.

Faith.

Fuck faith.

Fuck him.

You wiped an angry tear away from your face and urged your horse to go faster, muttering apologies for how hard you were pushing her, but you couldn’t spare a moment. What if John was bleeding out, alone and in pain? What if he was desperately calling out for you?

What if, what if, what if.

Stopping your horse around where you thought John fell, you dismounted and made your way down the hill, gun held tightly in your hand. “John?!” You waited for a moment, listening closely for a response. When you got none, you searched further and shouted his name again. You tried to prepare yourself for the possibility that he was in fact dead, the thought weighing heavy on your heart. What would you do if that was the case? Where would you go? How could you possibly live your life without that fool in it every day?

You felt like collapsing after minutes of searching with no luck. Your body fell against a nearby tree, and you cried. You cried until your throat hurt and your nose was stuffed, hand coming up to wipe away your snot and tears.

What am I gonna tell Jack and Abigail?

Something cracked, a branch maybe, and your head shot up at the sound. You pushed yourself off the tree, quickly making your way towards the sound and-

“Oh my, god!”

There John was, collapsed against a tree trunk and gripping his shoulder, blood soaking his shirt. You were in front of him in the blink of an eye, kneeling on the dirt and tearing the sleeve off your shirt. He looked so out of it. His eyes were shut tightly as he let out occasional groans from the pain, but you were just glad that he was alive. You were quick to patch up his wound the best you could, taking a half full health cure out of your satchel and urging him to drink it. He coughed as it went down.

“Are you real?”

Your hands paused, and you looked at his face. God, he looked exhausted. With a smile, you reached a hand up and brushed his hair behind his ear, palm resting against his cheek. Your heart ached for John. He had been through so much, and there was nothing you could do to change the fact that the man who had taken him in when he was just a kid, the man who was supposed to protect him, had left him for dead. You couldn't take his pain away, couldn’t say or do anything that would change what happened to him. The fact that you couldn’t keep him from hurting, it killed you.

When you kissed him, it was gentle at first, but grew more desperate when it finally sunk in that he was actually alive. He was here, with you. You pulled away with a shaky breath, lips pressed together in a sad smile.

“You think this is Heaven, Marston?”

He gave you that boyish grin, hand falling on your thigh and squeezing. “It’s certainly Heaven if you’re here, Darlin’.”

It caught you off guard how sweet he could be with a bullet lodged in him, and you laughed before kissing him again. His face was held so gently in your hands, like you might break him if you moved too suddenly or kissed him too hard. That gentleness was thrown out the window when he hauled you into his lap, letting out a noise of protest against his lips.

“John- you're hurt.”

He buried his face in your neck, his stubble tickling as he trailed featherlight kisses over your skin.

“I thought I’d never see you again. Grant a dying man his last wish.”

“You’re not dying, John.”

“Almost.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling his face away from your neck with a smile before softly connecting your lips again. And again. And again. He chased your lips when you pulled away. He just didn’t want you getting away from him, it seemed.

“You scare me like that again, and I’ll put you in the ground myself. You got it, Marston?”

He just smiled, not paying attention to anything but your lips as he leaned in again. “Whatever you say.”

While you got to share one small, blissful moment with John now, you couldn’t imagine how things would unravel once you both got back to camp and faced Dutch with the man he claimed was dead.

Christ, it was fucking hot. The sun beat down on you as you carried hay into the horse's stall, setting it down with a grunt before taking off your glove and wiping the back of your hand over your sweaty forehead. You couldn’t wait for a nice, long bath.

Maybe a certain someone would consider taking one with you.

You quickly shook your head at the thought, slapping at your cheeks a few times as you felt them heat up.

“Should I be concerned as to why you’re hittin’ yourself?”

You gasped and spun around at the sudden voice, glaring at Arthur’s smug expression.

“Jesus, way to give someone a freaking heart attack,” you muttered, thwacking your glove against his chest as you passed him. He just shrugged with a small chuckle, following after you.

“You make it too easy, kid.”

You hummed, picking up another bail of hay and thrusting it towards him. He quickly grabbed onto it with a quiet grunt. “You gonna help out or stand around torturin’ me?”

“Hey, you wanna talk to someone about pulling their weight, go harass Uncle.”

“Oh, I have plans for him,” you said, hands placed on your hips as you gave Arthur a knowing smirk.

“Well, I can’t wait then.”

Your smile grew as you parted ways from him, walking across Beecher's Hope to find Uncle sitting on the porch in his usual shady spot. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to laze around. Work on the ranch was hard sometimes, and on blistering days like today, it could really take all the energy out of you. Except Uncle seemed to never have energy, considering you’d probably see a sasquatch before you ever saw him do any work.

“Hey, old man.” You kicked at his boot, causing him to abruptly stir awake, which he clearly didn’t appreciate.

“What- Aw hell, what do ya want now? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, really? Because I could’ve sworn it looked like you were doing nothing!”

“Alright, alright! Christ, you’re just as bad as those two imbeciles,” Uncle said, finally standing from his slumped position against the wood support beam with a dramatic groan.

“Hardly, considering I don’t threaten to gut you in your sleep nearly as much.” Walking towards the barn, you grabbed the pitchfork hanging up and handed it over. “You want some work in the shade? Shovel the horse stalls.”

His gaze frantically shifted from you to the pitchfork, and he shook his head. “Aw, Hell no! You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you’d rather subject yourself to the mercy Arthur and John are gonna show you?”

Uncle didn’t say anything for a minute, looking at the pitchfork in his hand before grumbling to himself and trudging off, and a satisfied smirk tugged at your lips. Taking off your other glove, you lightly slapped them against your thigh as you made your way towards the corral, kicking up loose dirt in your path.

You caught a glimpse of Jack leaning against a tree with a thick book in his hand and wanted to smile. You remembered when he was just a little boy all those years ago, kicking up a fuss whenever Hosea would sit down with him to read. Now, you couldn’t imagine Jack doing anything else with his free time, his face constantly stuffed in a book, barely paying attention to the world around him. He lifted his head when he felt you staring and gave you a small wave paired with a smile. You returned the gesture, letting him go back to his reading before walking away. Hosea would be proud.

Your thoughts strayed at the thought of the older man, a wave of sadness hitting you as your steps faltered. God, he would’ve loved to see this. His family living a good life, more honest than he ever lived his. You imagined how proud he’d be of everyone, especially Arthur. You could see it day by day, the urge he feels to go back to his old ways like a dog trained. You watched as he fought his thoughts, listened as he expressed his worry of overstaying his welcome.

“You’re family, Arthur. Hell, you’re the reason we’re all here in the first place. You can stay here as long as you’d like.”

The corral was soon in your sights, a slight pep in your step as your beloved horse came into view. Kieran stood beside him, a brush in his hand as he gently patted his neck. Despite mosts original feelings about Kieran, he had become a loved and valued member of your family. He had always tried so hard to fit in with the gang, constantly walking on eggshells or mostly keeping his mouth shut so he didn’t unintentionally piss anyone off. You felt for him. But since coming to Beachers Hope, he seemed more relaxed. Perfectly content as he worked with the horses. There was a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, and you wanted to make sure it never went out again.

“How’s he been doing?” you asked, sidling up to both of them.

Kieran smiled at your presence. “He’s been good! Those herbs I gave him yesterday really seem to be helping.”

Orion bumped his nose into your shoulder, and you gently brushed your hand against his forehead with a chuckle. “You’re a lifesaver, Kieran.” The man’s eyes slightly widened at your praise, and he quickly let out a flurry of rushed sentences as his face flushed. You smiled, silencing him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, thank you. You’re really helping us out around here.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood stock still as his eyes roamed your face. He eventually let out a small hum and looked away, resuming brushing the dirt off of Orion’s coat. You let out an amused huff through your nose before leaving Kieran to his own devices. He couldn’t handle the slightest praise if his life depended on it.

“I think you almost gave him a heart attack.”

Charles bumped you with his shoulder, and you let out a hum.

“You should see him when that kind of stuff comes out of Arthur’s mouth. It’s like he’s seen a ghost.”

Charles' deep laugh resonated through your ears and sparked warmth in your chest. You liked it when he was carefree like this. Not skulking around by himself or hiding where no one could find him.

“It’s new for him, too. He looked like a bumbling fool the first time he tried to say something nice to him.”

You snorted, leaning against the fence of the corral and placing your foot on top of the rail. You both watched the animals meander around for a bit, Charles excusing himself to go take care of something. You didn’t really catch the end of what he said when John came into view carrying a bale of hay. You could see the flexed muscles of his arms underneath his shirt, sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck and disappeared under the fabric, and he quickly found your eyes with his own before your thoughts could drift further. You cleared your throat like it would somehow get rid of all the thoughts you were having and climbed the fence, dirt kicking up when you landed on the other side. Setting down the bale, John straightened up and hooked his thumbs into his belt, his lips lifting in a knowing smirk.

“Don’t make me slap you, Marston.”

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well you were gonna,” you muttered, fingers slipping underneath the front of his belt and tugging him forward, his chest knocking into yours. He raised a curious eyebrow.

“You running a little hot, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, fist colliding with his shoulder as you pulled away. “Rancher John has gotten a little cocky, I see.”

“And Gunslinger Martson wasn’t?”

“Oh, absolutely not. Gunslinger Marston was a hopeless fool who couldn’t say ‘I love you’ until I was almost dying.”

“I love you.”

Your head spun towards him, brows raised in slight shock. He shrugged.

“You’re not dying now.”

Your lips twitched up in a smile, stepping towards him again and gripping the front of his shirt. “You’re still a hopeless fool.”

He hummed as you slotted your lips against his, hands finding their home on your waist and tugging you closer until your front was pressed up against his. It was too hot to be this close, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin and sweat beading down your forehead. But you couldn’t pay any mind to that when John’s lips and hands felt so nice against you.

“Oh for cryin’ out loud, would you two get a room?” a distant Uncle yelled, and you pulled away from John’s lips. You didn’t move too far though, hands still pressed against his chest.

“Aren’t you supposed to be shoveling horse shit?”

You felt John shake with laughter, and Uncle just mumbled insults to himself as he threw the pitchfork in the dirt and stomped away. “Damn kids. Got no respect for their elders…”

Your head collapsed against John’s chest as you fell into a fit of giggles, his arms looping around you and pulling you close. Fingers curling into his shirt, you looked up and caught his gaze. “You done for the day?”

He nodded, and you pulled back to grab his hand, leading him towards the house. You toed off your muddy boots by the door once inside and laughed when John nearly tripped over his pants. He flicked your arm and walked past you into the bathroom. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you were already working on the buttons of your shirt as John prepared the bath.

“You wanna try out one of these fancy soaps you bought?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes at the way he said it.

“They are not ‘fancy,’ John.”

“Sure cost us a pretty penny.”

You shrugged your top off, throwing it on the chair in the corner. “Am I not allowed to smell good?”

He scoffed, standing up from the edge of the tub and pulling his shirt out of his pants. “No. I’m saying you smell good regardless of what you use.”

Tilting your head, you stepped into his space and helped him finish unbuttoning, placing small kisses against his chest as you pushed the fabric off his shoulders. Deft fingers slid down his abdomen before reaching his pants, and he let out a soft sigh when you unzipped them.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t gonna be any point to this bath if you keep going.”

Chuckling against his skin, you pulled away to let him finish undressing himself, shedding your own clothes. You dipped your foot into the water and sighed contentedly. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t unbearably hot either. Just that perfect middle ground that you could relax in after a long day. Sinking into the tub, you moved up a bit to let John sit behind you. You could practically feel the tension easing from his body when you leaned back against him, his arms lazily thrown around your middle and his nose buried in your hair.

You reminded yourself to thank Arthur for the thousandth time. Absolutely none of this would be possible if not for him. The fact that you were able to just sit and relax without waiting for some treacherous gang or the law to come barging down your door, that you could just simply live, it felt unreal. Jack, that lovely, sweet boy, finally had a bed to sleep in, and could read his books without worrying about moving to a new place again. It all felt like a blissful dream, and you were afraid of waking up any moment. But you would look at John sometimes and he would smile, really smile, and you’d be reminded that this was all real. His touch, his laughter, his love. It was real.

“You can keep buyin’ it, ya’know.”

“Hm?” you hummed, slightly turning your head back.

“The soaps. They smell… nice.”

Your face split into a wide grin as you twisted your body and pressed your lips to his, brushing his greasy hair back from his forehead.

“You’re a fool, John Marston.”

“Only for you, Darlin’. Only for you.”

#John marston x reader #John marston imagine #John marston oneshot #rdr2 imagine #red dead redemption 2 imagine #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #jim milton #john marston fanfic #rdr2 fanfic

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natriae · 11 months

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chapter 6

masterlist

2k words

It's been a week and you still haven't messaged Ushijima. What would you say anyway; 'sorry for ditching you. That was your son btw<3'. Deciding not to worry about that you moved on with your day.

Today you were getting ready to go meet Sakusa at a small restaurant that just opened in Tokyo. It had Miya in the name. Not a good sign. But he swore it was good, and it was the man's first branch of the restaurant. What you didn't realize though was that Sakusa lived in Osaka and took a 3 hour bullet train to meet you just for lunch. He definitely thinks this is a date…You weren't looking for a relationship right now. You were content with your life. Just you and Isa… and maybe a cat in the near future. You left the apartment and began walking the busy streets to Onigiri Miya.

Walking into the restaurant you immediately scolded him for not telling you till after he was already on the train about how far he lived. He laughed and said, "did you think Tokyo had two volleyball teams," his smirk seemed a bit condescending, but when you looked away embarrassed he returned to his resting face. "Okay but seriously I'm here to see my cousin. He's here for a bit so I thought I'd visit him," His usual cold demeanor had a lighter tone to it when talking about his cousin. Cute.

Once the two of you sat down you finally took in the restaurant. It was very cozy and it seems that Sakusa took the only Kotatsu (heated table) in the restaurant. There were cute red and black cushions the two of you sat on and it seemed like there were no real chair spots in the restaurant. It was cozy like the countryside you were used to. It reminds you of home. Reminds you of sitting in Waka's lap after practice to get some hayashi rice- stop thinking about him. You gently hit your head again and Sakusa scrunched his eyebrows looking at you.

"Sorry, habit," you said. Smiling lightly at the man. He was much more handsome when there weren't tears in your eyes. He was pale, and his hair looked quite soft. Much different from Ushijima. Ushijima was always tanned from being outside, either playing volleyball or gardening. He always looked so handsome in the summer when his tan would finally set. He'd really be glowing, but his hair was always cut short so it wasn't that soft. He also washed it everyday because of sweat, ew.

"Do you like Onigiri?" Sakusa asked.

"huh," you said. What's with you daydreaming more about Ushijima, he doesn't mean anything to you anymore.

"I asked if you liked Onigiri," Sakusa said. He leaned a bit closer to you and he had the cutest pout on his face. Yeah you could get used to this.

Leaning in a bit more you finally responded, "of course I do. It's Isamu's favorite food. I'll have to take him here someday," you said looking around the mostly wooden interior.

"has he lived in Tokyo his whole life?" Sakusa's eyebrow lifted up at that question pushing his two perfect moles together.

"Yeah, never gone back to Miyagi, but we like it here," You said, but Sakusa could tell it was like you were trying to convince yourself of the fact. There was something about the way you said it that screamed 'I wish I never had to leave home'.

He looked your face up and down seeing that you got lost in your thoughts again. He turned over to see Osamu making his way over to their table. Perfect timing. You looked up to see an Atsumu look alike. Oh right, their twins. Osamu looks much different. He probably changed the most out of anyone. His arms looked softer in his fitted black shirt, but it was obvious he still was strong. He had a bit of a belly now, but you're glad to see he was eating well. "Is there anything I can get started for ya?" The now black haired Miya asked you.

"I'll take the chef's special," you said.

"good choice because i'm the chef!" You couldn't deny that the Miya twins still had their cute charms. He seems to be genuinely enjoying his job. You remember he always looked depressed during games, and now there was a huge smile gracing his face. "What about ya omi?"

"My usual please," Sakusa said, like he couldn't believe Osamu was even asking him. He must have visited the one in Osaka a lot for him to already know his order. With that Osamu left and returned to the kitchen. You took the time to admire how straightforward Sakusa was, yet he still had manners. Like a better Wakatoshi. You really need to stop comparing everyone to him. Sighing you snuggling into the Kotatsu, and turn towards Sakusa. "What are you thinking about," Sakusa asked.

"nothing-"

" Ushijima? I saw your son talking to him at the game. Don't worry, I think he's to stupid to realize that's his son," Sakusa said, as if he was reading your mind. Nevermind, you don't like the straightforwardness. He had no reason to be in your business right now.

"hey don't talk about him like that," you responded genuinely angry, "but yeah I am. How do you know Isamu is his kid anyway," You asked, as much as you don't want Sakusa in your business you were curious.

"well, i'm not dumb like everyone else," he started but immediately switched up after seeing you agitated face, "after you left Ushijima asked everyone if they knew where you were, i stalked you for a bit, and one of your friend's posted Isa for his 1st birthday and i thought wow that kid's a mini Ushijima, and then I did the math and realized… that was a mini Ushijima. I never told him that I knew where you were," He said finishing his story, but it didn't seem like the whole truth. Trying to comprehend everything just said you couldn't help, but stay stuck on the 'he asked everyone if they knew where you were'.

Trying to muster up the courage you asked, "he was looking for me," don't cry y/n now isn't the time.

"Yeah, but I think he gave up pretty fast," at which Sakusa looked away from you for the first time and he shrugged his shoulders. A part of you found it hard to believe that Ushijima gave up so fast. When he had a goal he would see it though, but then the other half of you said that you could never trust him. You weren't his number one priority. Why would he try so hard?

At this Osamu came out of the kitchen holding two large plates. Definitely more than you ordered.

"Here ya go! Made some extra fer the little one," He quickly left after placing the plates down.

Snapping your head quickly to Sakusa you immediately questioned him, " did you tell him I had a son?" You were pissed. Why would he do that? He's really getting on your last nerve, maybe he isn't as nice as you thought he was.

" I didn't," he responded just as quickly, "maybe you should think about his idiotic brother that talked to your son at the game," You hate that he was right. He scoffed and continued, "not everyone is out to hurt you, y/n,". He was right. Not everyone is, but you have just been so on edge ever since leaving. The more time that passes the worse the consequences will get. You know, but it's too late now. Biting into you Onigiri you couldn't help but let out a sigh of happiness. You could cry over the Onigiri. It was perfect. Osamu must be magic because there is no reason for it to be this good. "It's good, right?" He asked, smiling a bit with his mouth full of food. You couldn't help but nod enthusiastically. Way more than good. You cannot wait to bring Isa here.

After the two of you enjoyed your meal you began to walk aimlessly down the street. There were so many shops and restaurants on this side of town. You wish you had more spending cash, so you and Isamu could go on more adventures like this. One's where you could get him more things that he wants, not just the necessities. You feel out of place. You can't afford any of this stuff. In your peripherals you could see Sakusa glancing at you every once in a while. He kept walking closer to you and his hand would brush yours. Eventually his right pinky hooked to the front of your left hand, but before he could move any further you heard someone yell your name. You knew it could be from no other than a fiery redhead. Before you could turn around someone was launching themselves at you back and latched on. A deep voice followed soon after telling the redhead to get off of you.

"y/n!" he shouted again. Completely ignoring Sakusa like he was a fly he just needed to swat away.

"Satori! omg your hair. Where did it go," He giggled at your reaction.

Putting a hand to his buzzed hair he said "ita kinda fell off," a small smirk present on his face.

"I thought you said you buzzed it?" Ushijima asked, clearly not understanding the joke.

Sakusa pushed Satori a bit and said, "hey, i'm still here," Satori had made a face at his intrusion, and Sakusa continued when he saw Ushijima standing there. He bowed and said, "ushijima," his voice got deeper when he said his name.

Ushijima did the same and the two six foot men glared at each other between you and Satori. "oh tennssionnn," Satori said, rolling his eyes and sucking in a breath between his teeth. Pushing Sakusa out of the way much harder than Sakusa did him he walked closer to you and explained how much he missed you. "Miracle boy and I spent years looking for you, why did you leave," Ushijima clearly hadn't told him the full story of your relationship.

"oh, Sakusa told me Ushijima gave up pretty quickly," Oh how wrong you were. You could tell by Ushijima scrunching his nose and the front of his eyebrows pointing down in anger. Satori too side eye'd Sakusa in anger. Grabbing your left shoulder, Satori lightly led you to start walking with him. "You know men, and all their lying, can't ever get a full story from them, huh. That's why I'm here. I knew there was a reason I needed to return from Paris," Satori said, looking off into the sky. Like he was much wiser than he actually was.

"you moved to Pari-" before you could finish, Satori shushed you and looked back up at the sky.

" Ushijima and I trekked a long way, metaphorically of course, after you left Ushijima spent every waking day morning you. He'd sleep at your parents house, and at one point he got on his knees to beg them to tell him where you were," Satori continued his dramatic story. If you were alone you wouldn't be able to tell if he was serious or if it was for effects, but you can see Ushijima watching the ground embarrassed and Sakusa rolling his eyes waiting for any moment to jump in. "Eventually I forced him to continue practicing to get his mind off things, and if he ran into you. You guys were destined…Now we must go. I've said too much" He grabbed Ushijima's forearm and dragged him away waving aggressively at the two of you. Sakusa's hands were now in his pockets, and he looked ready to cuss out Satori at any moment. Looking back in front of you you pulled out your phone to check the time and see if you had any messages. Not mentally prepared to indulge in all the information you were just given.

"you kno-" Sakusa had started.

"shit I need to pick up Isamu," You said, eyes widened at how little time you still have until his school ends. "bye Sakusa," you said while running the other direction.

tags: @mineta-phobic @rukia-uchiha-98 @ssc7514 @megumuro

thoughts? ALSL TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY IM ON A ROLL (i actually wanna get to the fluff so badly)

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu angst #kiyoomi sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #ushijima headcanons #ushijima imagine #ushijima fluff #ushijima fic #wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi fluff #ushijima angst #another chance

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ctitan98official · 2 months

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Anonymous: I would like to request a Donna x gender neutral Reader where the reader just blurt something like “I really want to marry you” meanwhile been oblivious to Donna reaction when she heard that. (This could happens while they are doing anything common, like washing dishes or cooking)

Cute T^T Just a short little drabble, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. Let’s get into it!

You found yourself washing dishes alongside Donna in the comfortable silence of her home. As you absentmindedly scrubbed a plate, the words slipped out of your mouth. “I can’t wait until I get to marry you,” You say. “I guess things won’t change much around here, but I really want to be able to call you my wife.”

Donna’s delicate hands paused in their task, the dish she was holding slipping from her grasp. She blinked, her dark eyes wide with astonishment. "Oh,” She stammered, her voice barely audible above the running water.

Your head snapped toward her at the sound of the dish clattering in the sink. “Whoa, you okay, babe?” You asked and shut off the water.

Donna couldn’t even look at you. She nodded slowly, clearing her throat. “I just… I didn’t expect you to say that, tesoro.”

You finally realized the weight of your words. You had been thinking about proposing for a long time, but had never said anything to Donna about marriage.

… Shit. You freaked her out, didn’t you? You eventually met Donna’s gaze as her breathing returned to normal.

Her cheeks were still tinged with a rosy hue, but her eyes held a mix of surprise and something else – Was it hope?

“I didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” You said, your voice softening. “But it’s true, Donna. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

She hesitated for a moment, her delicate fingers tracing circles on the rim of a porcelain plate. “Ever since I was little I dreamed of getting married to my true love, but… I gave up on that fantasy for a long time. Because I have my… quirks.”

You dried your hands with a dish towel and stepped closer, gently tilting her chin up to meet your gaze. “Donna, you’re unique, and that’s what makes you incredibly special to me,” You said sincerely. “Your quirks, your kindness, your strength – They’re all things I love about you.”

A shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she looked down, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark hair. “I never thought I’d hear someone say those things to me,” She confessed, her voice barely able to be heard. “I’m not used to… This.”

“Well, get used to it, babe,” You teased gently, hoping to ease the tension. “Because I’m not going anywhere. I want to be with you, Donna. Forever.”

She peeked up at you, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotion. Disbelief, bashfulness, and joy. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“I do,” You affirmed, cupping her cheek with your hand. “I love you, Donna, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, Donna’s lips curved into a genuine smile, her eyes sparkling with newfound happiness. “I love you too, cara mia,” She whispered, her voice filled with warmth. “And I’d be honored to spend my life with you.”

In that ordinary kitchen, surrounded by the scent of soap and the remnants of dinner, you shared a moment that would forever change your lives. You pulled Donna into a tender embrace and kissed her, sealing your love with a promise that felt as strong and enduring as the foundations of Beneviento Manor.

Masterlist

#Masterlist #donna beneviento #re8 #re8 village #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x y/n #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil #re8 shitpost

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black-moon-bunny · 1 year

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Revenge and Regret.

Sister y/n prepares herself for the night mass unknowing that she is being watched. After night mass and dinner everyone goes to sleep in the abbey. But not Swiss, the multi-ghoul has already planned his revenge, will this bring to him regrets? Will the sister fall into his trap? How this not so well thought plan will end?

Chapter one. Chapter two. Chapter 3 Chapter Four

Couples: Fem!Reader x Swiss, Cirrus x Sunshine.

Warnings: Y/N is used, Swiss is a bit of an asshole in this chapter also (I swear it gets better in the next). Voyeurism, Masturbation (Female) Smut, A little angst but not much just a tiny bit. NSFW, Minors DNI +18. All of the pictures were taken from the internet so credits to the people who made them.

Word Count: 5358.

A.N: First of all, I want to thank all of the wonderful comments and the support that the fic has had these last days. Second, I'm currently working on the third chapter, but I got a fever of 38-39 C° (I think is somewhere between 101 F° and 103° F ) and caught a cold (Yeah a cold, in summer. Well, here where I live it is summer right now) so i haven't gotten really far with it but I will post it as soon as I get better. Without anything more to add please enjoy this chapter.

For Sister y/n the rest of the day went by somewhat smoothly: Primo left her after their conversation and the day at the library went fine. Some sisters stopped by to chat with her, something about Cardinal Copia returning from his trip to the Vatican City where he was supposed to bought (or stole maybe) some books; some little gossip about Terzo’s confessional meetings with some sisters and things like that. She wanted to see Cardinal Copia. She had a soft spot for him, he was so sweet with her every time he went into the library, he was awkwardly charming, and she enjoyed his presence.

After the sisters left the library, she closed for the day and went to her room to prepare for the night mass. It was a warm summer night and Sister Imperator, after a long talk with the Cardinal and Papa Terzo, decided to be less strict with the dress requirements; she could wear something lighter than her tunic and veil. Night mass was for the sisters and brothers to go with their most comfortable clothing, so she decided to go with something light for the warmness of the night. A deep purple velvet dress, a little on the short side, and black platforms with silk stockings. She used her cross necklace and cross earrings with pride.

She joined a group of sisters on her way to the main chapel. Today Secondo oversaw the mass and sermon. She enjoyed Secondo’s sermons; he was so polite, and he talked with a lot of pasión about the work of the church in spreading the word of the darkness. He was genuinely scary, and she had little to no interactions with him, but he always was a gentleman. She looked forward to Papa Secondo mass. Sometimes when she wanted to give up, his sermons gave her new energy to keep going. He was mostly quiet, not like Terzo who walks all over the apse and the altar during his sermons, but he talked with passion and honor of the Emeritus name and with pride in the work of the clergy and himself.

She remembered the first time that she met him. A newcomer in the church in a private reunion with one of the Papas, to decide her future in the abbey.

She was outside the personal office of Secondo in the abbey, waiting to be called. She was nervous, almost terrified. Besides her excitement for being in the church and having found a new place for her in the world, this meeting was the official test for her. If she succeeded, she was going to be one of the many sisters in sin of the abbey and she was going to be assigned to a room and a job. If she failed, she could still help but she would be an outsider and would have to find a job and a place to live.

—Sister y/n, please come in…. — He was completely outstanding. His clothes, his papal paint; his presence intimidated her. She was amused, but also curious.

—Thank you, Papa, …

—Take a seat dear girl, I don’t bite. Terzo does, be careful with him. —He laughed a bit trying to ease her, she seemed tense. He could understand, being in front of any of the Emeritus was breathtaking for many.

—Thank you, Papa, … So, I should be glad then that I’m going to be interrogated by You, Papa and not by your brother? —She smiled a bit, she had already heard some tales about Emeritus the Third, Terzo.

—I think so and don’t worry, it is not an interrogation. Just some basic information that is needed and an interview just to find where you would be more apt to work. There are common works that each and one of the siblings participate in, for example cooking dinner, cleaning the abbey, and washing clothes. Each month we select a group of sisters and brothers for each one of those tasks and, at the end of the month, are replaced by others and so on. There are other jobs that are selected by their bosses, for example being personal assistant to someone from the clergy or taking care of the garden.

—The garden?

—Si, the garden. My older brother, Papa Emeritus the First has a huge garden, and he always handpicks the sisters or brothers who will be working in it.

—I get it. I’m looking forward to cooking, it’s one of my hobbies… A good meal can be everything that someone needs in times of hardship. —Her smile seemed too bright as she was talking about her likings.

—I will be looking forward to it then, Sister y/n. Well, tell me, how did you end up here, why did you come to us?

—Well, I used to live in a place by the coast, a small town. Had loving parents and everything. I was a teacher… and I had a normal life but, there was this annoying void in my life… I have never been a girl who went to churches or participate in any rite of some sort, but I always felt attracted to demonology and learning about as many religions as I could just for curiosity… I really enjoy books so, I spent most of my time reading… I have been always some sort of an outcast in my hometown, and in my work as teacher too, so I had plenty time to read… And then one day, I threw everything away, bought a ticket plane and travelled around… Then I heard about the Ghost project. I went to one of the rituals and fell in love with the idea of the church, the passion, and the music… It filled part of the void so quickly than I had no doubts, this was my path in life. —Her eyes became glossy as she was remembering some sad parts of her life. She loved being a teacher, but she was not accepted there. She loved her hometown, but she never fitted… She wanted from the bottom of her lonely heart to fit here in the church.

—When you are called by our master you feel it in your heart, he called you here. You belong here with us, don’t ever feel like you don’t belong because here you will always be welcomed. I’m glad you found your way home, your way to us. To him…—He pointed to the big painting of Lucifer that hanged above him. — Well, I have seen enough of you to know that you are going to be one of our most valuable assets here in the church grounds. You seem truly devoted to your calling, and for your job… Would you be fine working at the library? It is huge and needs a lot of maintenance and paperwork, but I think that you are going to love it.

—Yes! Of course, I would love to! I…—She felt some tears falling down her face, she felt so relieved… and so welcomed by Papa Secondo’s words. — I’m sorry… it’s just… I felt so relieved.

—Don’t worry sister, you are going to be great here. And if you have any problems, don’t hesitate to contact me. Let me guide you to the library and then I will leave you with Sister Imperator so you two have a talk about your room and some of the rules here.

From that first encounter, she could feel nothing more than admiration for Secondo. She always participated in his mass, she always tried to retrieve to him as much as she could with her hard work. Even after a year passed, she still felt the excitement of participating at Secondo’s mass.

Besides the excitement that Secondo’s sermons brought to her, she felt like she was being watched from everywhere and couldn’t keep her concentration. Was it the dress? No, it couldn’t be. Other sisters were wearing much more revealing clothes than she was. Maybe Sister Imperator found out of her incident with Swiss and was looking at her? No, she wasn’t. She was feeling a bit anxious, yet she kept trying to focus on the mass. Her suspicions were true though. Primo was looking at her a bit concerned about her behavior early in the day. He kept thinking that something sketchy was definitely going on between the sweet sister and the ravishing ghouls.

Swiss was looking at her also, damning her and her slutty purple dress, his hand in a fist pressing until his knuckles turned a pale grey. She still had a small scent, but her cologne ruined it. She looked gorgeous, the dress hugging her figure, her wide hips. Her thighs in the black silk stockings looked like a sin in itself. She even had a couple of tattoos. And that sweet doe-eyed face looking with admiration to Secondo, wide open. When she went to drink from the chalice, he felt a bit of envy of Secondo’s position: She was underneath the altar, slowly bending her knees looking up to the altar with her mouth slightly open and expecting for the wafer and the bitter wine from Secondo’s hand. Swiss wished to see her between his legs exactly in the same position. He felt like his pants tightened a bit and looked apart to distract himself. He needed to stick to his plan.

In addition, two other ghouls were watching her subtly from the chancel, where the ghouls usually seated for mass, Sodo and Aether. Sodo was intrigued by this sister. They spotted her after noticing Swiss looking at her and mumbling something under his breath. They were sure she was the sister from the library. She seemed interesting, she did not stand up from the rest of the siblings, but at the same time she looked different from the rest of the sisters. Maybe fitting with some others, they have met but not with the full spectrum of the clergy and siblings. She could pass under the radar but never be fully invisible. Sodo already knew some aspects of her, after listening to her singing, wandering outside her room next to the library.

But Aether never knew of her existence until Swiss’ rant now and thought the same. They wanted to know the mysterious sister who made Swiss react like an asshole, but before even trying to talk to her, she was gone as soon as the mass finished.

After mass, they were having dinner in the saloon. The tables were ready, and everyone began to seat. Swiss looked where y/n was seated and scanned the sisters next to her. He definitely knew a few and decided to play his plan smoothly as possible. After the main dish he stood from his seat and walked to where her entertainment for the night was, whispered something to her and left with a smirk. He noticed how y/n looked at him before leaving.

Dinner was over and everyone went to their chambers to sleep. Y/n returned to her room and undressed, getting on her flowy black nightgown but she wasn’t tired. She was confused and still horny, thinking about the events of the morning. She really wanted to fuck… It was almost a fucking year without any contact, and Swiss was a fucking ghoul. It was no secret for her that she felt deeply attracted to them and curious. But this new position given by Sister Imperator prohibited her from indulging in her desires. She lit the purple lights from her decoration, and dropped into her bed, bouncing on the mattress. She was reading a book of demonology and listening to soft jazz when she heard a soft female laugh followed by a growl from the wall that led to the library. Hell fucking no.

She put on her night robe and pressed her ear to the wall hearing a breathy female moan. Her hand moved a bit for a better position and accidentally moved a small mirror next to her closet. Behind it was revealed to her a small purple button. Was that one of the secrets? What was it? An alarm? Something to scare the intruders? She pressed it curiously and anxiously at the same time. It was her job to secure the library and impend night intrusions! If Imperator found out that someone was messing around and she did nothing, she was going to get in trouble.

After pressing the button, some tiles on the floor moved away, creating a passage under the floor with a small light to see where it leads. She decided to follow it, and, after a small walk, she was beneath a trap door in the floor of the library right behind her desk. Underneath the floor she felt more moans and gasps,

—You sure are enjoying this, aren’t you sister?

That voice… it was Swiss! That fucking asshole… So, everything that happened in the morning was a fucking trick to enter the library… but how did he enter? She was sure she had closed with the key and everything, and she would have heard if the door were forced open.

The moans were filling the room, the sound of skin slapping and fluids gushing. She could not deny that even given her position she was a bit aroused by the sounds.

—Look at you, so cockdrunk… So wet for me… Does it feel good? Sure, it is… You can barely talk, so dumb by my cock inside you… Squeezing me…

Y/n decided to lift the trap door slowly; She didn’t want to make any type of noise. She entered the room hiding behind her desk, poking her head out enough to see a bit in the darkness of the place. And the view was something brought up from her dirtiest fantasies.

Swiss was seated on the same armchair from before with the sister seated in his lap, her back pressed against her chest, his face on her neck biting and kissing. His hands lifting her legs as he pounded hard into her wet sex, his tail playing with her breasts. It was brutal, hard and filled with passion. She knew that she needed to stop them, it was her job, nonetheless. But it was so fucking horny, she felt like a teenager watching some porn hidden in her room, but a million times better.

—Don’t try to deny it, you whore… Come on, come for me… You know you need it. One more….

Swiss was fucking her as hard as he could, chasing his high, enjoying his revenge. He was sure that Sister y/n was going to hear all of the noise, he was not going to let her fucking rest. Despite his thirst for revenge, deep down he wanted to make her jealous, that it could have been her if she wanted, but no… Primo messed up the whole thing. He was feeling great, but he noticed how the scent of the sister he was fucking did not even come close to y/n’s scent. It was good but it wasn’t turning him crazy as he was before. It was weaker and not that sweet. He was losing a bit of concentration just thinking about y/n and how much he wanted this sister to be her. He kept going and moved one of his hands to her clit, pressing and caressing the button making the sister moan and tighten. He bite her neck making her moan his name over and over. He still had a lot of energy left to please her and fulfill his revenge.

While y/n was looking from behind the desk (how dirty he was), that sister was sure enjoying it. Maybe she could stop them at the end of their… session. She didn’t know either how the ghoul could react, he seemed stripped from all control and good behavior. Her body felt hot, the moans and growls of the ghouls were echoing in her head, her lungs felt heavy, and the musky scent of the ghoul was making her dizzy. She knew that she was getting horny by just watching.

Her legs opened a bit allowing her hand to touch her clothed pussy above the smooth fabric of her night gown slowly. That was wrong but she was turned on so fast by it. Her voyeuristic pleasure. She began to make circles above her clit, feeling the fabric getting wetter each time she pressed a bit. She choked a moan when she put her hand beneath her underwear directly over her pussy, and introduced two fingers inside mimicking the thrusts of the ghoul as best as she could. She couldn’t look away; every time that he thrusted into her, she saw how his dick stretched out her pussy and made her gush around his dick. How dirty it sounded also, the sloppy wet sounds, his moans, her moans, the skin slapping. As y/n pushed her fingers more and more deep inside her looking for that spot, her mind only could think of how it must feel having his dick inside her. She did not realize that she was looking straight to him. And that’s when it happened.

Swiss felt her scent from one moment to another, and he knew that it was not coming from the girl he was fucking. He took a deep breath trying to get as much of her scent as he could. That’s when he looked directly at the desk, and then his eyes found hers, her dazed look. She looked flustered and he was sure that she was masturbating while she watched them. How cute, how fucking horny also… So, she enjoyed watching? He was going to put on a whole show for her. The ghoul winked his green eye looking at y/n who almost passes out right there. She had been caught. As soon as he saw her reaction, he began to thrust into her with an almost animalistic force. He could feel how her scent grew ever stronger, overpowering the weak scent of the sister he was thrusting into.

She felt trapped. What is going on there with her fucking horniness and that damned ghoul? But the horniness was stronger than the guilt now and her fingers didn’t stop. She went harder squeezing her nipples with her free hand, moaning ever so slightly. She was close, and that was so messed up. Swiss never broke eye contact with her. He moaned and gasped but always kept total eye contact. He was thinking about fucking her while fucking the poor unsuspicious sister (but she couldn’t complain, she already had come twice and was almost there again). He moved the hand that was holding Sister’s leg, and grabbed her throat, biting her earlobe and moaning how close he was to her ear.

Y/n almost lose it right there, the way he was pounding into her while keeping full eye contact with her, her own fingers fucking the devil out of her hole. The moans and growls from the ghoul… For one moment she felt like it was only the two of them in the library. The other sister didn’t exist in the dirty game they were playing. With a few more hard thrusts from Swiss, he came pulling his cock out and letting his seed spread on the armchair with a mischievous smirk. She came at the same time dropping to the floor to avoid the stare of the ghoul. Her breathing was altered, her heart going like crazy, and she barely could feel her legs

After coming down from the bliss, the sister dressed again and left. She saw her struggle with the close door and then going up the second floor to disappear into the air guided by Swiss. Before leaving, Swiss told her “This is a one-time thing, don’t tell anyone… You don’t want to get in trouble”.

Y/n was trying to keep it together. After the bliss, the guilt felt heavier in her chest. That was risky. She could lose her job, she could get in so much trouble with the upper clergy (Maybe not with Terzo, he was a scandalous dirty whore). She could lose her own room, her private sanctuary! She also felt dirty, she knew that it was bad. She should have stopped them, but she lost control. She felt her whole body on fire just by hearing the ghoul moan. She was about to stand and leave for her room when the voice of the ghoul stopped her.

—So, a part of being a fucking tease, you are also a voyeur?... Such a dirty little sister, you are not a prude at all, are you?

—Shut up… You should be grateful that I didn’t call Sister Imperator right away…

—Could you? After getting off by watching us? Do you think I didn’t notice?... Your scent is intoxicating, I felt it right away… What is the matter, little bunny? You got jealous and came to take a look at what you were missing?

Swiss kept his human glare all the time while fucking the other sister, only letting his tail out, but talking with y/n made him drop the glare and going full ghoul. His mismatched eyes looking at her defiant but also intrigued by her next move, his fangs shining under the moonlight that passed through the windows.

—You wish… I was going to do my job! … And then… your scent… I fucking hate you. You made my body all flustered and I couldn’t stop my… self…Wait a damn minute, this was your plan? Messing around with me to get your entrance to the library? You tried to get in my skirt this morning just so you could come here and ruin my job at night?

The realization hit her; she was indeed part of a plan. A plan that could’ve easily had her expelled from the abbey for breaking the trust of S. Imperator. So, the ghoul was never interested in her. All the flirting, all of his questions. He just wanted a free pass to the library.

—Well, I was looking for something. And then I tried to seduce you. You looked so cute there, all shy and doe-eyed around me… How can one resist to you?

—Don’t lie, Swiss… You wanted this? Your chance to sneak in the library at night? You didn’t have to almost fuck me to get it, you know? Fucking asshole… It’s like being seduced by someone just for pity. You truly are a dickhead.

—Don't talk to me like that… You have no right to scold me, little bunny…—He growled getting closer to her, grabbing her by the waist and picking her from the floor to seat her over the desk looking at him — Maybe this little spectacle will show you that I’m not just a “Simple Ghoul”….

—What? I have never believed that! You overhead what I said to Papa Primo?... I just said that to leave him calmed and without suspicions! My job here and even my possibility to stay at the abbey depended of it. Sister Imperator trusts in me enough to take care of this place! And one of the untold rules is not screwing around with Terzo or the ghouls! —She looked directly at him, letting some of her anger out — I have worked a lot to even get this position —Well, the part of the hard work was true, but the position at first felt like a burden and she really only wanted to keep the room— Why I even thought about screwing it all up for a horny ass ghoul who just wanted a free night pass…—Her voice cracked a bit. She was exhausted and she really felt lonely at the library most of the time; she felt lonely even at the abbey with her sisters and brothers in sin. For a moment she believed that Swiss, even with his flirtatious nature, could be interested in talking with her. He seemed interested in reading, that’s why she showed him her favorite book!

Swiss felt a bit like an idiot. He was indeed putting her at risk with her job and she seemed really angry. And she was right with most of what she said… And he felt stupid. She was trying to save her job, not bashing him just because she felt like it. He screwed it up badly…

—Sister, I truly didn’t want to put you in trouble, I just… It was unfair to us. We were enjoying the library and we didn’t even touch the books! But then Imperator gave you this job and we were forced to leave our sanctuary… And I’m not the only one who thinks this! But I was the one who put you at risk… But after teasing you, I can swear that I did it purely for attraction! You seemed so cute and at the same time you…

—Swiss… I don’t want explanations, not now. I’m tired and… this whole thing was wrong. I shouldn’t have indulged in this situation. Just leave.

—Sister… I am truly…

—Just leave…—She went off the desk and fix her robe looking at him with almost no expression. From a whole rainbow to a scale of grey. She was still the same outcast, the same girl who did not fit enough to be even taken seriously for once.

Swiss took his mask and made a lame attempt to clean the mess he made, then he left. She did the same. She really felt exhausted and guilty. Was it worth the pleasure? She was going to get in so much trouble if Swiss opened his mouth…

As soon as she went back to her room, she turned on her music, her purple lights and collapsed on the bed. Even when she tried, she was unable to stop the tears that fell from her eyes. She felt so lonely… and so guilty. She knew that she was doing something bad! She knew that she could lose her job, but she was so touch-starved, so lonely… She wanted to feel desired, she wanted to feel as attractive as her sisters in sin who always seemed to get lucky. She was always behind… She covered herself with her blanket and fell asleep before turning down the music and the lights.

Swiss, on the way to the den, felt also guilty for his actions; not for everything he did, but for the way in which she spoke to him. She seemed genuinely hurt. He was indeed a dickhead with her, and she was nothing but sweet even when he was tempting her so hard. She was nice to him, showed him one of her favorite books and was so caring with her questions about books while he was trying to flirt with her… Her scent was still in her nostrils, erasing every trace of the sister he lured but making him feel even more guilty. His pride was too much but she was right in everything. He acted from pure spite.

As soon as he arrived at the den, he let himself drop to the sofa and took his mask off, tossing it on the floor without much care. Cirrus was having some coffee and reading a book on the table in front of the sofa. He looked pretty distraught, so she worried a bit.

—Swiss, did you do something wrong?...

—What!? No!… Well, yeah… Well, no… It’s complicated, Cirrus….

—It’s late, we have all night… But you look like shit, and guiltiness doesn’t suit you.

—She was not talking bad about me from spite… and I almost ruin her job… Well, most probably I ruined her job already…

—And she is…?

—Sister y/n, the girl who works at the library and that Imperator chose to take care of the library at night…

—You went to the library and threatened her or something? She is a cutie, but she has a temper. There is this thing though, she is always somewhat lonely, at least that is what the crows said —One of Cirrus’ hobbies was bird keeping. She had four crows: Fames, Pestis, Bellum and Mors. And they were her eyes on the abbey. She was one of the elder ghouls. Her mission while in the abbey was taking care of the ghouls and avoiding problems, but the ghouls were mostly unpredictable, and she enjoyed the gossip that the crows brought to her more than babysitting her bandmates.

—I tried to seduce her, but I caught up in a bit of a heat. Her scent, Cirrus, her scent made me lose control and after a moment, I just wanted to have her. I didn’t care about the library… but Primo interrupted us, and then when I found the second floor entrance, I heard her talking about how I was just a simple ghoul, how she was not affected by me and that I was one more of the ghouls on the abbey and I got mad… and screw over everything

—How?

—I broke into the library with a sister and fucked her and y/n went to stop us and saw me… and I put at risk her job…

—And now you feel guilty, I get it. Well… That was a dick move, you know? She has not many friends in the abbey, so she is not going to have help from anyone if Imperator kicks her out. She is not even from here; she left her birthplace to be here…

—I get it, Cirrus. I’m an asshole…

—And you should….

—Apologize? … I know but she hates me, so I don’t have a choice…

—Well, even if she does, you need to apologize. Bring her a gift, show her that you are sorry and don’t do that shit again…—She sighed and rubbed Swiss shoulder with care. The ghoul relaxed with her touch leaning into her. They all cared for each other even with their fights, even with their stupid arguments.

—Could I ask you a favor?... Can you persuade the rest? To leave the library alone? I don’t want her to lose her job…

—I will try, but you know how they are. You are like that too. But honestly, you need to apologize to her. She seems nice, and awfully lonely.

Swiss left to his room, he needed to rest… That’s when the fire ghoul dropped from the ceiling. He heard everything that Swiss said to Cirrus.

—So, she is awfully lonely, and Swiss is a jerk?…

—Why are you two so fixed on this sister? Is she sooo special?

—I don’t know, but she is something… When I was sneaking outside her room, I managed to catch a glimpse of her singing with some weird colorful lights shining through the door.

—And what do you think? Maybe she is a witch! —Cirrus was clearly joking, but to Sodo that seemed like a full possibility.

—Maybe! She seems nice also. Today at the dinner she was talking with some of the sisters about Secondo’s mass, she seemed really invested in it…

—You know, maybe I’m going to pass by the library tomorrow… Goodnight Sodo, don’t bother Aether if you don’t want to be hit again, and don’t go to sleep late. You have been using more energy than usual —Cirrus kissed his cheek and patted his head a couple of times before going to her room. She shared her bed with Sunshine, so she landed on the warm side of the bed, hugging her from behind — She has made a good impression already. Are you sure that Secondo’s vision was about her?— Cirrus whispered at Sunshine’s ear.

—I’m about… eighty percent sure… She seems to fit the mold… Come here babe, kiss me goodnight and go to sleep…

—Swiss and Sodo are really interested in her… But Swiss already screwed it up. I hope she forgives him, he seemed worried…

—She will. If Secondo was right… we are going to be first in line to see the birth of a new ghoulette… It is going to be nice to have another girl in the den… —I hope Secondo is right… Well, enough of this talk… Let’s go back to sleep, ok? —Cirrus kissed her slowly before going to sleep hugging her. Thinking to herself how interesting these couple of months were going to be.

A.N : Soooo I hope that this was a good chapter for you. I have two things to add, i hurt myself writing this a couple of times, the feelings of being an outcasted hit really hard. And second, Thanks again to my wonderful editor @saemttle who beta read this and help me with the editing. I wish that everyone who reads this enjoys and supports. Thank you so much.

A.N 2: I just needed to add girls love, so I thought to add Cirrus and Sunshine as a couple, I'm thinking on give the same treatment to Rain and Mountain because I always pair those two in my mind but who knows, let me know if you would like to see something like that.

#y/n x swiss #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss x reader #ghost bc fanfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #reader x swiss #ghost ghouls #ghost the band #swiss ghoul #swiss ghost #copia x reader #cardinal copia #copia x y/n #ghost bc fanfiction #multi ghoul #sodo x reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader

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