#i ain’t never drawn him in my life

[lynnbutlertron]

doodles + a collab between me and the super awesome @kenziestham haaaii

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 190 }

labor of love.

kenji (ken) sato x fem.reader

ken sato had never known the joys of being pampered and cared for in his adult life-

that is, until the moment he meets you.

you were someone he believed he never truly deserved; a woman who was far too giving, far too kind for the likes of him. yet against all odds, you were someone who remained by his side, knowing of his struggles with taking on the responsibilities of ultraman while maintaining his status as a star baseball player.

you kept him grounded; filling his days with joy when the weight of own personal world was on the brink of collapse as you gave him an unconditional type of love. he never had to hide his emotions or his true self from you when things got hard-

and he loved you dearly for it.

coming home from practice with his team, ken parks his motorbike on his driveway, settled directly next to your car as he smiles at the sight of it. knowing you were already home fills his heart with joy as ken walks with a noticeable bounce in his step up to his house.

his keys weren’t even inserted into the keyhole when the front door suddenly opens, revealing your beautiful features to him. ken smiles, calling out your name with a fondness as you eagerly welcome him into your embrace. “kenji! you’re home…”

he chuckles and wraps his arms around you, stepping into the living room with you still clinging to him while locking the door in the process. “yeah, i’m home, babe.” he brushes his lips against your hair, watching as you scrunch up your nose in response.

“gross, ken, you smell musky and damp.”

feigning offense to your words, ken ends up wrapping the entirety of his limbs around your form, earning a series of giggles from you. filled with affection and a playfulness for you, ken ends up leaning the entirety of his weight on your back, making you let out a grunt as you dragged him with you into the bathroom.

“you’re such a big baby, ken…!”

“yeah? well i’m your big baby, sweets.” ken finally loosens up his hold on you, bringing you back into his powerful embrace when his eyes take in the sight of his bathtub filled to the brim with warm water.

ken could feel his muscles aching with need from the sight, the memory of his coach’s training regimen coming back to him in full force as he let out a loud groan. “babe, for real? you did all this for me?”

“of course i did, you big baby.” you hum while peeling off the rest of his clothes, not stopping until he was bare for you as you carefully lead him into the tub filled with piping hot water. as you help him get into the tub, ken lets out a hiss in response before visibly relaxing, letting out a sigh before submerging the entirety of his body beneath the waters.

“honey, you shouldn’t have… but i ain’t gonna start complaining now.”

your constant giggles were like music to ken’s ears as he felt your hands massaging at his shoulders, working out all the tension his muscles had developed during practice today. “baaaabbbby damn, this feels so good. you’re spoilin’ me too much.”

his voice was drawn out, letting out deep grunts and purrs of your name as you continued to treat him with your massages. when you were certain he was satisfied, you turn away from him and grab his trademark beer, cracking open the can for him while silently beckoning your beloved to take a hold of it.

“holy shit, what in the hell did i ever do to deserve you?”

you giggle again and give him a loving smile, carefully wetting his dark strands of hair before lathering it with his favorite shampoo. you work on massaging his scalp, basking in his groans before admitting to him, “what can i say? my beloved is a star baseball player and ultraman; of course i’d wish to spoil you, kenny.”

ken visibly blushes at the sound of your nickname for him. he lets out a gentle scoff, trying to hide his embarrassment by taking a sip of his beer. the smile was heard from your voice, and you continue to wash his hair until he was satisfied.

after helping him rinse off his hair, you carefully dress your boyfriend in his signature silk robe, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips before leading him back into the kitchen. “sit at the table and i’ll heat up dinner for you.”

ken hums, but stops you from moving when he grips at your wrist to press another chaste kiss against your lips. “you know how much i love you, right?”

“of course i know, you dweeb. i wouldn’t have stayed by your side if you weren’t as crazy about me as i am about you.”

ken rolls his eyes upon hearing your words, but couldn’t stop the blush from deepening against his cheeks. finally, he lets you go and allows you to heat up dinner, continuing to take casual sips of his beer all while eagerly waiting for your return.

within the next 15 minutes, you come back to the dining table and place a piping hot plate of omurice in front of him, drawn with a cute ketchup heart on top of it. feeling like he was on top of the world right now, he gives you a grateful smile before digging into his food, telling you how delicious it tasted as he practically devours his meal within seconds.

not only was his stomach full, but his heart as well. ken was filled to the brim with so much love for you that he honestly felt as though he were living in a dream. as if mesmerized by your tender love and care, ken simply follows you without saying a word, allowing you to take his hand before leading him back to your shared bedroom.

you slowly take off his silk robe, helping him get into his shirt and sweatpants before beckoning him to get into bed. he does so with a low grunt, his handsome features slowly upturned in a smirk before teasing you.

“heh… i’m surprised you haven’t pounced on me yet with the amount of times you’ve seen me naked…”

you roll your eyes at his attempts at seducing you, “don’t be ridiculous, ken, you’re exhausted and mentally drained right now.”

ken merely hums in response, his eyelids starting to grow heavier while yawning. once he was tucked in, you had every intention of finishing up some chores around the house when ken manages to stop you, his large hand gripping at your wrist. you look back at him with a smile, hearing him mutter to you, “mmm stay….”

“you want me to stay with you?”

cue ken giving you a sleepy nod.

“but i’ve got dishes to clean.”

“fuck the dishes.”

you let out a gasp when ken takes advantage of his strength to pull you back into bed with him. he lets out a satisfied hum, allowing you to rest your head on his broad chest. the sound of his calm heartbeat against your ear makes you visibly relax, finding comfort within his warmth while being surrounded by his scent.

“you’re spoiled, you know that, kenny?”

“hmph… y’love me anyways.”

you giggle and nod, pressing a kiss against his chest. “you’ve got me there, kenji.” was your whispered reply, but by now, you were certain that he had fallen asleep. you could feel the way his chest rose and fell in tune with his breathing, making you smile in response.

with a sigh, you cuddle your body closer to his, feeling your eyelids grow heavier before falling into a peaceful slumber. for the next several minutes, silence was heard, and only when ken was certain that you were in a deep sleep did he open one eye to look down at you. remaining ever so careful with his movements, he takes a hold of your left hand and makes a note of your ring finger, already imagining the perfect engagement ring for you.

he lets out a gentle whisper of your name before pressing a kiss against your left ring finger. “i hope you’re ready to be mine forever, babe, because there’s no way in hell i’m letting someone as good as you go.”

a.n. - ken is so cute tbh tbh, i can’t stop thinking about how cute and soft he looks in ultraman rising ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[forbidden-sin-bin]

Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 3

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… being the boyfriend of Zeus’ daughter is easy for Luke but their relationship is tested when a new arrival has his eyes set on someone in particular; Y/N.

“You’re in the wind, I’m in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

Warnings : Luke ain’t gonna betray anyone this time, don’t worry, not following plot, communication problems, relationship problems, Y/N and Luke are little rocky together, a little bit of angst

—

TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree

—

Life was good for Luke. He was still the most respected swordsman at camp, the Hermes cabin was as energetic as ever, and he had been dating his longtime crush for months now. Everything was perfect.

“Hey Sparky.” Luke said as he walked into Y/N’s cabin without a second thought. She was still lying in bed, glaring at him with her E/C eyes that he loved so much.

“It’s six in the morning. Get out or be quiet.” Y/N waved him off but he was persistent.

“You promised to train with me.” Luke frowned, hurrying over to kneel beside Y/N’s bed.

“Tomorrow.” She muttered, closing her eyes so she could sneak in a moment more of sleep.

“You said that yesterday. And the day before. At least hold my water bottle!”

Y/N couldn’t resist Luke when he looked at her with those puppy eyes. Eventually, she found herself standing in the centre of the arena dressed in loosely fitting armour and holding a heavy sword. “I never agreed to this.” She muttered, furrowing her eyebrows.

She wasn’t even fully dressed, still in her pjs under the armour, while Luke was ready to go. He took a huge gulp of cold water from his bottle, grinning.

“Just one round, Sparky. Fight me like you mean it and I’ll let you sit out.”

But fighting Luke was never an easy feat. Five minutes later, Y/N was still locked in a complicated battle with her brown-haired sweetheart.

“Slow down, will you? I just woke up.” She muttered, sloppily blocking a blow that was aimed at her chest. Luke merely chuckled, swinging his weapon even faster.

“Sorry, Sparky. But I’ve got to train somehow.”

“By almost maiming your girlfriend?!” Y/N exclaimed as she ducked. She quickly rolled across the ground and stood up behind Luke.

“Yeah. Something like that.” He sent her a mischievous wink as he spun around, metal clashing against metal. Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She liked to play dirty. In one of their first capture the flag matches, Y/N had bit Luke. And had drawn blood. That was the start to their close relationship.

“I’m tired, Luke.” She complained, slouching. “Let me rest.” Despite wanting to continue training, Luke let Y/N off easy. He knew he wouldn’t get another mock fight out of her in this state. She happily skipped over to the bench, lying down on it.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Luke’s lips as he stared at Y/N. Her head suddenly turned and Luke bashfully looked away. Nothing could make him shy… nothing but Y/N. She laughed at him, knowing the effect she had on Luke.

“I’m going to change. And maybe get some last-minute sleep. You wanna come or are you gonna stay here and train?” Y/N raised her eyebrows as she took her armor off. Luke was quick to drop his sword and unbuckle his chest-plate.

“I’ll come with.” He said. Y/N muffled her laughter and simply knocked Luke to the side with her hip.

“New kids sure are pouring in.” Y/N mumbled. Just yesterday, another boy had arrived. He was around Y/N and Luke’s age, which was uncommon for newcomers. How had he managed to avoid the monsters for so long?

“Remember when that girl tried flirting with me last week?” Luke asked, chuckling to himself. Y/N quietly snickered as she nodded her head.

Just last week, a new girl had began flirting with Luke. People tried to warn her but she didn’t listen. Y/N hadn’t even stepped out of her cabin before Clarisse pinned the newbie to the cold ground and forced her to stay away from Luke.

“Clarisse sure is working hard to prevent anybody interested from approaching us.” Y/N found it amusing because Clarisse never cared about couples until Y/N and Luke started dating.

“So. You up for training again tomorrow?” Luke questioned, changing the topic. Y/N playfully scoffed.

“Luke, you know your my second favourite boy… but no.” Y/N didn’t know how many more late nights and early mornings she could take.

“Second? Who’s first?” Luke sped up slightly, furrowing his eyebrows at Y/N.

“Percy.” She shrugged, “Sorry, Luke, but he’s a better breakfast buddy. And he doesn’t wake me up at the crack of dawn.”

Luke lightly pouted. He knew Y/N was joking but there was no way Percy was ranked above him. “I won’t wake you up early anymore.” He uttered, making Y/N pause.

“I guess I’ll have to change my list then. Percy’s been demoted to number two.”

Immediately, Luke’s eyes lit up. If he were a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging back and forth. Luke opened the cabin door, letting Y/N walk in first before he followed.

“We still have an hour before breakfast so Luke, don’t disturb me. Do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t wake me up.” Y/N sternly pointed at him and he mockingly saluted.

“Yes, ma’am.”

While Y/N lay down, Luke resorted to looking around the cabin. There wasn’t anything of significant interest apart from the closet shoved into a deserted corner, which Luke ignored. The last time he opened a mysterious closet, he was dragged into it. Of course, it was a prank meant for an Athena kid but they were too smart to fall for it. Especially when said closet was placed in the middle of a flower field.

Luke looked at Y/N, who was already sound asleep. He smiled, creeping over to the side of the bed. He found peaceful solitude in tracing his eyes over Y/N’s soft features. He would’ve stared at her for hours if she didn’t groggily wake up five minutes later.

“You’re distracting.” She groaned, glaring at Luke.

“I’m not even doing anything this time, Sparky!” Of course, as Y/N’s boyfriend plus friend, it was his job to annoy her. “How am I distracting?”

“Your staring is distracting. Come over here.” Y/N motioned to the spot beside her on the unusually large bed. Luke gleefully climbed in, immediately hugging Y/N. He was as affectionate as ever, even more so now that they were officially together.

Y/N hummed as Luke tilted her chin up, lightly kissing her. “Luke.” She mumbled against his lips, “I wanna sleep.”

“Five more minutes.” He uttered those famous words.

“Sleep now, act like a couple later.” Y/N pulled away, lying down on Luke’s chest. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply.

“Can I come with you when you teach the newbies to sword fight? I’m in the mood for watching you pummel them.”

Luke chuckled, hugging Y/N even tighter. “Sure, Sparky. I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

Y/N sat on the bench, beaming at Luke. His eyes remained glued to her despite one of the younger kids tripping over their own feet.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?”

She almost jumped when someone sat beside her. Suddenly, Luke’s face shifted. Y/N turned her head, glancing at the boy beside her.

“Oh. Yeah. Um, you’re one of the new kids, right?” Y/N questioned, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah. I just got here yesterday. I’m honestly still a little confused so it’d be great if you could show me around.” He smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“I guess I could try? I’m a little busy because of my duties as head counsellor. By default, of course. Because I’m the only one in my cabin.”

“Oh, who’s your godly parent?”

Y/N hesitated for a second before she cleared her throat. “… Zeus.” She wasn’t proud of having him as her father. He was unbearable, especially when he ignored her for so long then proceeded to act as if he hadn’t.

“That’s cool. Can you control lightning or something?”

“Perhaps. Percy has some water powers so maybe it applies to me too.” Y/N shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luke excuse himself from the campers across the arena.

Y/N watched him with bated breath as he approached her. “Hey. Is there something wrong with your armour?” He asked the boy beside Y/N. “Because we’re going to start mock fights soon. Clarisse will be monitoring.” Luke jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Ah, no. Everything’s good. Don’t worry. My armor’s fine.” The unnamed boy stood up, walking over to the rest of the group.

“What was that for?” Y/N softly asked, “He was only asking for some help.”

“He was flirting, Y/N.” Luke cooly replied, sitting down next to her. “I know guys like that. Their way of flirting is asking for help.”

“You don’t know that, Luke.”

“Yes. I do, Y/N.”

“The overprotective nature was cute at first, Luke. But you can’t assume every guy who talks to me is interested in me.”

“I see the way they look at you. I mean, how could they not? You’re beautiful and kind and great at fighting and on top of that, you’re Zeus daughter.”

“I chose you, Luke. Not any of the other guys desperate for my attention. You think I’m not jealous when I see girls giggling at you? Of course I am. But I know that you’re mine. And you have to know that my heart only belongs to you.”

Luke cracked a small grin. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just got jealous.”

“It’s okay, Luke. I’m sorry I called your overprotectiveness annoying. It’s not. I still think it’s cute. I was just caught up in the moment. I guess I just didn’t want to feel helpless. A daughter of Zeus should not be helpless.”

“You aren’t helpless. Whoever thinks that you are needs a major reality check.” Luke shook his head, glancing over at Clarisse. “You wanna get out of here?” He whispered, nudging Y/N.

“I, um, actually agreed to show him around.” Y/N mumbled, pointing over at the boy. Luke pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Okay.” He gently said, nodding his head. “I’ll keep Annabeth company while you show him around. But if he tries anything funny, I will punch him.” Luke warned.

“I know, Luke. I know.” She smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. She was partly hoping that the boy from before saw their interaction so he would put whatever sneaky schemes he had to rest.

“So, let me get this straight, Annabeth found out Percy was Poseidon’s child when Clarisse cornered him in a bathroom… and shoved his head into a toilet?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she picked another strawberry, placing it in the straw basket Luke was holding.

“Yeah. And then Percy practically attacked her with toilet water.” Luke chuckled to himself as he bit into a strawberry. “Annabeth told me all about it. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like Percy.” Y/N replied, plucking a few more berries. She handed one to Luke, who took it like a child being given candy.

“So, how was showing that boy around?”

“Well, I thought his name was Alston and it took about two hours for me to realise that his name was actually Allen. He never corrected me so I never knew.”

Luke huffed in amusement as he slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Sounds like you. Any idea of what cabin he’d gonna be in?”

“Ares.” Y/N immediately answered, taking Luke by surprise. “He’s hungry for power. He has a thirst for it. And he can’t seem to tear his eyes off the Ares kids, it’s like he’s drawn to them. What about you?”

“Good guess. Ares as well for me.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just copying me?”

Their playful banter went on for quite some time. It was normal for the couple to tease and push. That’s how they were before they started dating too.

“Have you ever tried chocolate on strawberries?” Luke asked, picking up another red berry.

“I’m not obsessed with them like you are, Luke.” Y/N was never much of a sugar person. She liked desserts for a certain extent and chocolate wasn’t her favourite like Luke’s was.

“How come I have a cute nickname for you and you don’t have one for me?” Luke questioned, gazing down at Y/N.

“I’m not big on pet names. And I could hardly call Sparky cute. Unless you want to be called messenger boy, don’t push it.”

“I’ll message you my heart.” Luke grinned as he pulled out a slip of paper that was stamped with a red heart.

“What’s this?” Y/N turned it over but Luke stopped her from opening it.

“Read it when I’m gone otherwise I’ll be too embarrassed. It’s just a little gift for my amazing girlfriend.” Luke quickly kissed her before he hurried off, taking the strawberries with him.

Y/N sat down in a sunny patch and opened the letter, staring at Luke’s neat handwriting. “A love letter…” She whispered, her eyes widening. She has received plenty of love letters before, mostly before she came to Camp, but Luke’s felt special. He was pouring his heart out to her through his inked words and messily drawn hearts.

“Hey Y/N. What ya reading?”

She held back a small scoff as Allen approached her, hands clasped behind her back.

“Something private.” She said, hoping he would get the hint. But he didn’t.

“Is it a love letter? Who still writes those, these days?” Allen plucked the letter from Y/N’s grasp and before she could stop him, he dunked it in a nearby puddle. “Oops.” He merely smirked.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N seethed, watching as the ink bled out from off the paper and Luke’s beloved words floated away.

“You’ll get another love letter. No need to be so uptight.” Allen laughed, not noticing how Y/N’s vision flashed red with anger. She was never one to get furious but Luke’s gifts meant the world to her.

“Are you crazy? Stupid? Perhaps mentally impaired? Why would you do that? Even if the letter didn’t mean much to me, you have no right to grab it and ruin it!” Y/N stood up, wobbling from side to side. Her body felt unusually heavy.

“It was just a joke, Y/N.” Allen reached out to touch her. He grasped her wrist but was suddenly flung back by an unknown force. As he lifted his hand, he yelped. It had been burnt, and badly. His skin was sizzling and some parts were even charred black.

“Don’t touch me again.” Y/N muttered, storming off. Allen clicked his tongue, watching her leave.

“Crazy bitch.” He muttered under his breath. He went to the infirmary and got his hand patched up before returning to the Hermes cabin.

“Yo, what happened to your hand?” Chris asked almost immediately. Luke’s eyes flickered over to the bandage that was wrapped around Allen’s hand.

“Y/N. The crazy girl went ballistic after her little love letter fell in water. I grabbed her and then she flung me back. I didn’t even know she could do that.” Allen scoffed.

Luke didn’t wait around to hear the rest. He was out of the cabin before Allen could say another word. He burst into Y/N’s room, making an instant beeline for her figure hiding beneath the blankets.

“Go away, Clarisse. I told you, I don’t want to talk.” Y/N said, shifting around.

“It’s not Clarisse, Sparky. What happened? Why’d you burn Allen?”

Y/N slowly slid the covers off her head. “I didn’t mean to. I was so angry that I didn’t know what was happening. He dunked your letter in water, Luke! So I snapped at him and he tried to stop me from leaving by grabbing me. And I don’t know how it happened, but I burnt him and sent him crashing into the strawberry bushes.

“Oh… are the strawberries okay?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows together, concerned.

“Luke,” Y/N glowered at him, “This is about me! Not the strawberries!” She hit his chest. “It’s not like it’s my fault he touched me. He deserved it anyway.”

“I know, Sparky. I know. I’ll take care of him. You just focus on calming down. It’s not your fault. I’ll write you a million letters if you need.” Luke hugged her, pressing a long kiss to the side of her head. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Thanks, Luke.” She mumbled, pressing her face deeper into his shirt.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N froze. She stiffly rested in Luke’s embrace, staring blankly at his bright orange shirt. An awkward silence rested between the pair and even though Luke didn’t comment on her lack of response, he still wondered why didn’t she reply?

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair how we’re always fighting against the Hermes and Athena cabin?” Clarisse said as she sharpened her sword. She clicked her tongue.

“It is a little unfair. Annabeth is always one step ahead of us.” Y/N sighed. She clenched her jaw when she spotted Allen walking towards her. “Oh, great. Jerk alert.” She whispered to Clarisse, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll leave you to beat him up.” The Ares girl replied, shoving her way past Allen.

“Y/N. Hey. I just wanna say that I’m sorry. I didn’t know the letter meant that much to you.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “Okay.” She murmured.

“Okay? That’s it? I apologised to you and all you say is okay?” Allen scoffed.

“Just because you apologised doesn’t mean I forgive you.” Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes in fear they would get stuck. She spent so much time being annoyed with people.

“Do you have to be such a bitch about it?” Allen snapped.

Y/N deeply inhaled. She stiffly smiled at Allen before standing up. “I have to go.” She uttered, brushing past the boy. But just like last time, he grabbed her hand and unfortunately for her, there was no electricity to save her.

“Accept my apology.” He said, gripping her arm so tight he may as well leave a bruise.

“I told you not to touch me.” Y/N tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he was relentless.

“Leave me alone, okay!” She exclaimed, lifting her other hand and slapping Allen’s check. “Stay away from me, you creep! Honestly!”

Y/N scoffed in disgust, storming off. She went to go find Luke, but she found him on the porch of the Aphrodite cabin, talking to the same girl that tested their relationship before it even started.

Y/N slowly licked her lips and looked away, fidgeting with her hands. She decided to leave Luke alone for now, ignoring the dull ache she felt in her chest.

After months of pure happiness, everything was coming crashing down. And there was nothing Y/N could do to stop it. She sighed, collapsing on her own wooden porch. A new game of capture the flag was going to start soon and she didn’t have time to brood.

“Hey, you good?” Clarisse asked as Y/N slid her helmet over her head and the first conch blew. Y/N simply smiled, nodding over at her best friend.

“Yeah. I’m good. Don’t worry about it, Clari.” She smiled again to reassure Clarisse. She glanced over at Luke and the Aphrodite girl, whose name was Lana. They were laughing together. They had been for the past few days. Y/N didn’t know if it was her or Luke but lately, they hadn’t been talking at all.

Clarisse followed her gaze and pieced everything together. “You can switch positions with someone else.” She offered because they both knew Luke was going to be the one to get the flag. “Today feels like an offence day for you anyway.”

Y/N silently smiled at Clarisse as she switched jobs with one of the Ares kids.

“Thanks, Clari.”

“No problem, baby. If it weren’t for Luke, I might’ve dated you myself.” Clarisse playfully smirked while Y/N laughed.

“If it weren’t for him, I might’ve taken you up on that offer.”

Communication was important in a relationship but for some reason, Y/N and Luke could never talk peacefully. It always turned into argument and one, if not both of them, would turn away hurt.

Y/N was ready to go by the time the second conch blew. Usually, she guarded her team’s flag but today, she was hunting through the woods. Each of her opponents were more surprised than the last to see her because it was always Luke’s job to duel against her. He was really the only one who could beat her.

“We surrender.” The blue leader said, hands help up. Y/N smiled, slinging her spear over her shoulder.

“Easy peasy.” She said to her teammates, who laughed with her. “This might be the quickest game yet. Let’s grab that flag and get outta here.”

Y/N didn’t know who she was expecting to be guarding the blue flag. Maybe Percy or Chris or even Annabeth herself. But not Luke.

He easily disarmed her teammates, leaving Y/N for last. “Rematch, Sparky?” He uttered, mockingly swinging his sword.

“Really? We don’t talk for a few days and that’s all you say?” Y/N replied as she blocked the blow.

“Well, last I recall, you’re always busy with Allen.”

“Not willingly. You know that.”

“What was he doing in the arena with you then?”

Y/N scoffed. “Annoying me. What are you and Lana always talking about?”

“Don’t turn this on me, Sparky.” Luke warned as he stepped to the side, barely avoiding Y/N’s weapon.

“We really need to figure our shit out, Luke. Maybe somewhere that’s not on a battlefield.”

Y/N and Luke were both headstrong and stubborn, which is what made communication so hard in the first place.

“Lana’s only a friend, Y/N. Barely that. I’m only helping her. What do you call Allen?”

“An obnoxious fly.” Y/N whacked Luke in the head, taking him by surprise.

“You seem closer than that. He’s always touching you.”

“And every time he does, I wish I could burn him. Are you sure you aren’t jealous?”

“Are you sure you aren’t? Your eyes are always on Lana.”

“Because she likes you, Luke. And she hasn’t gotten the hint that you’re taken.”

Y/N’s teammates exchanged looks and quietly crawled away from the now private conversation.

“Why don’t you trust me, Y/N? You know I’d never cheat on you.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he wiped away beads of sweat with the back of his hand.

“You have to trust me first. Why would I choose Allen over you? That seems like an unfair deal.”

“Maybe you just like the attention. I mean, you didn’t even say you love me back.” Luke shrugged, stepped back to avoid his leg from being slashed by Y/N’s blade.

“I’m not ready for that, Luke! You know what,” Y/N paused gripping her spear tightly. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of arguing and not trusting each other. A relationship requires trust and despite being friends before all this, we’re doing a lousy job of it. So…”

Y/N pursed her lips as she trailed off. “So, maybe we’re just trying to make something impossible work.”

Luke suddenly froze, realising the small argument was going somewhere he didn’t want it to. “You don’t mean that, Y/N.”

“… I do. Luke, we’ve been avoiding each other and over what? Stupid things. You’re blaming me for talking to guys and I’m getting mad at you for even looking at other girls. Luke, we’re not in a stable relationship. We’re both insecure and there’s no communication between us. Don’t you see it? I think the best thing to do here… is take a break.”

It was silent, save for the chirping birds. In the distance, Y/N could hear Clarisse let out a battle cry. Luke sighed, stepping aside. “Just… take the flag, Y/N. Take it. I don’t care about it anymore.”

“We’re going to talk about this later, Luke.”

“Yeah. I know, Sparky. Just… go.” He heaved another heavy sigh, almost shaking. Y/N gripped the flag, sparing Luke one more glance before she sprinted through the forest.

Luke watched as she not only stole the flag but also his heart with it.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hazbin Boys x reader- Comfort ❤️‍🩹

This is a request from an anon- hazbin boys comforting reader with depression/mental illness. Includes Lucifer, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and just a dab of Alastor. Original request here + a heart felt message from yours truly 💌

TW: depression, mental illness, sickeningly sweet fluff

Notes: gn!reader, NSFW during Angel’s part 18+ plz

Lucifer 🍎

Oh my goodnessssssss, prepare to be treated like absolute royalty.

I’m talking foot rubs, back rubs, playing with your hair

Not only will he make you food, he’ll literally try to feed you and offer you sweet praises when you do eat. Eating can be a real chore sometimes…

“Good job, my love. It’s gonna be okay…okay?”

I think Luci is pretty touchy in general, but when you’re down in the dumps, he gets extra clingy and touchy

He’ll pretty much constantly have a hand on you- holding your hand, a hand on your back, a gentle rub on your shoulder

Will unfurl his wings and drag you close to him in bed, wrapping his arms and silky feathers around you as he lulls you to sleep

Like imagine a midday depression nap all tangled up with Luci, curtains drawn so the room is nice and dark, the temp is perfect, the bed is hugging you just as good as your babe next to is. Ugh. Plz, I want this. I need this.

Will try to gently coax you out of bed and try to get you out of the house. He knows it won’t be easy for you but he thinks getting you cleaned up, dressed and out doing something fun you’ll feel a bit better. You’ll at least be distracted from your sadness for a bit.

He’s so kind and nonjudgmental too. He gets it completely. He has depression too. Even the king of hell deals with mental illness, okay? Mental illness does not discriminate

He’ll offer the best advice he can muster up, using his own experiences to help you out of your funk

All in all, he’s just an absolute sweet pea. So doting, so caring.

Angel Dust 🕸️

Also has mental illness, also gets it completely.

KING OF DISTRACTIONS

Angel is a sweet boy but I don’t think he’d be too great at offering advice…

So he does his best to distract you from your feelings, doing whatever it takes to get you to smile, even just for a second.

Will ask you what you want to do first, whatever will make you happy, he’ll go along with it.

If you insist on rotting in bed, he’ll probably respectfully pull you out of bed, tell you “this ain’t good for ya, babe” and force you to go do something fun, something relaxing, something for yourself

Sorry not sorry but he’ll def offer to cheer you up by fucking you, letting you fuck him, eating you out, sucking your dick. Go ahead, take your stress out on him, he can take it ;)

Also the king of self care.

SPA DAY SPA DAY SPA DAY

Will draw you and him a bath, rub your shoulders while you sit in the warm water together, will even wash your hair for you

Forces you to wear a face mask with him lmao

“C’mon, (Y/N)! Lemme paint ya nails! You’ll look sooooo cuuuuuute~”

Expect lots of touching and kisses with him at night, especially if you’re having trouble sleeping

Rubs your back, rubs your arms, will rub gentle circles on your butt if you’ll let him, kisses your head, kisses your cheeks, kisses your nose

ALL THE KISSESSSSSS 💋💋💋

Husk 🃏

Okay listen…this guy is obvi a great listener and he’s pretty good at giving advice. Honestly, he’s probably the best person to go to.

Husk is an old soul, he’s pretty wise, has a lot of life experience, death experience, his own experience with mental illness and even addiction.

He could just listen to you talk for hours, waiting for you to pause before he replies. He’d never interrupt. He’s so patient with you 🥹

Will keep a close eye on you and any new habits you’ve seemed to pick up. He fixes his own issues with booze but he’s the type to say “do as I say, not as I do”

Won’t let you spiral into addiction like he did…it’s not an option.

I think Husk would be a good mix of “Come here, give Husker a hug. It’s alright, hun. Let’s go take a little nap, yeah?” and “Hey, I know what’ll cheer ya up!” *proceeds to show you the coolest, craziest magic tricks*

He’s a good balance of comfort and distraction

Anything he can do to help, just say the word

Will tell you funny shit he’s seen the folks around the hotel do just to see you laugh for a moment

“One time, Angel was walking right in front of the bar at like 7 in the morning and tripped over literally nothing and face planted! I had the best seat in the house. It was hilarious.”

This is my own personal headcanon, idk why but I feel like Husk can cook really well. He’d totally make you food, even bring it to you in bed if you don’t feel like getting up

Will absolutely let you play with him like a kitten, won’t even be upset about it. Play with his ears, give him pets, let his fur be your stim toy, let his purr soothe your achy heart

Sir Pentious 🐍

Plzzzz, he’s such a simp. I love this slippery, special little guy 💚

Big on cuddles! Will cuddle you all day, all night if you want. Loves the physical contact, and loves it even more when he can feel you relax a bit against him.

Will make his eggs boys do anything for you. Whatever you want, you tell them and they’ll happily oblige.

Kinda random but I think he’d be the type to try and pull silly little pranks on ppl around the hotel just to get you to laugh. He’s such a silly goose omg

He doesn’t really understand what you’re going through so he’ll just keep asking you what he can do, how he can help, what you want, what you need from him.

He doesn’t get it but he’ll do anything for you.

When you’re feeling particularly lazy and it’s extra hard to leave your bed, he’ll literally carry you around. Just lounge in his arms, darling, he’ll take you wherever you need to go. Don’t need to go anywhere? Fine, you’re gonna come along with him to do his daily tasks. Sit in his lap and just watch as he works.

Just wants to keep you close. He can’t stand the thought of you being alone when you feel like this. No matter where he is or what he’s doing, he wants you close.

Unless you insist on having some alone time or needing some space. Again, whatever you need from him, you got it.

Although, he may get a little teary eyed and pouty when he leaves you. Can’t stop thinking about you all day and probably comes and checks on you several times.

Vox 🖥️

“CANCEL MY MEETINGS, HOLD ALL MY CALLS, TELL EVERYONE IM NOT RESPONDING TO EMAILS UNTIL TOMORROW!”

Guy needs to focus on his baby right now. You are his top priority, everything else can wait. You are just too precious to put on the back burner.

Will be sure to tell Val and Velvette to leave you two alone. He doesn’t want them upsetting you any more than you already are.

This man has his assistants waiting on you hand and foot. He’s gonna stay in your bed with you, cuddled up with tons of blankets, both in your pajamas as you watch movies while ordering his staff to bring you whatever it is you desire.

Will eventually yank you out of bed bc he can’t stay still for too long but you’re coming with him. Wants to keep you company always

In public, Vox isn’t the most romantic or touchy. He’s a busy man with a huge reputation to uphold. While he would never completely ignore you and he’s no ashamed to show some PDA with you, you sort of always find yourself following in his shadow when he’s hard at work.

Once he sees how much your mental health is affecting you, he becomes much more attentive, much more protective of you.

He’ll hold your hand or keep his arm around you when out and about. Will give you a gentle kiss and a prideful smile before getting on set for a news shoot.

If you’re having a particularly hard day, everyone get out of the way! Hes taking the day off, he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says or thinks.

You are too important to him. Without you, what good would all his accomplishments be? Without you, who would he share all this with?

He needs you to stick around 🩵

Alastor🩸

I think Alastor would be absolutely clueless but he’d try his best nonetheless!

He’d also be one to try and distract you.

Wanna go to cannibal town and visit Rosie? She’ll help cheer you up! She’s a great listener with tons of good advice to give

Will reluctantly invite you into his room and lead you to the half of it that looks like a swamp/forest. He will take off his coat and sit in the grass with you, staying silent but watching you look around in awe.

He’s got lots of cool powers and will summon or manifest little things here that he thinks will bring a smile to your face.

Summons little lightning bugs to carefully dance around your face, holds back from slaughtering a deer that’s approaching just so you can admire it from afar, will watch with a genuine smile as you lay back in the grass and relax to the sound of crickets chirping and light jazz music.

If you asked…he might give you a hug. Might.

Also sends his shadow to check up on you every so often but if you notice this, he will deny it with all his might.

[winchesterwild78]

Austin Nights

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Steve Carlson-mentioned, Radio Company Band mentioned.

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sexual contact, (cover it up), oral sex

A/N: The wonderful, amazing, beautiful, sweaty photos of Jensen at the Radio Company concerts gave me this idea. This is just pure SMUT and FANTASY! Sorry not sorry, but that man makes me FERAL! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d find a man dripping with sweat so attractive my common sense flies out the window and I’d be willing to lick him dry. 🤭 Sorry, so yeah, this story does not depict real life. (Much to my dismay. 😀) Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors. Do not copy or take my work.

Minors DNI 18+

The lights dimmed, casting long, dancing shadows across the intimate venue. The crowd roared as Radio Company took the stage, but for Jensen, he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who stood in the front row surrounded by her group of friends. 

He’d seen you laughing and dancing when Louden Swain was on stage, and he was instantly drawn to you. Backstage before Jensen and Steve took to the stage, Steve asked Jensen what had him so mesmerized. Jensen smiled and nodded his head towards you. 

He couldn’t tell what color eyes you had, but he knew they sparkled when you laughed. Finally the moment you had been waiting for, Radio Company was on about to play. You’d been a fan of Jensen’s for years, and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come see him in such an intimate setting. 

Your friends and you were able to snag tickets before they sold out, and you were waiting at the front row with baited breath. 

Steve and Jensen came on stage and introduced everyone in the band. You watched every move Jensen made and when the two of you locked eyes on each other, your breath hitched. Jensen would flash that killer smile, you’d blush and look away. Your friends were laughing when they saw you turn red. 

“I think Jensen’s checking you out, Y/N.” Your friend squealed. You laughed, “Yeah right, you’re dreaming.” 

As the night wore on the venue was getting hot and sweat was running down your body. Jensen was just as sweaty. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his damped hair, sweat trickling down his neck and dipping below the collar of his shirt. 

Jensen ran his fingers through his wet hair and the wet strands fell around the curves of his face. As he continued singing, goosebumps erupted on your skin and you could feel the arousal settling in your core. 

Jensen’s voice was magnetic and every note his sang pulled you closer to him. The two of you would lock eyes and you’d bite your lip. When Jensen sang “Ain’t No Telling” he stared at you the whole time. 

His body moved with perfect rhythm to each song and all you could think of was how his body would feel above or under yours. You clenched your thighs together, feeling your growing arousal. 

When Jensen started gyrating the room went wild. He moved his hips and body back and forth like he was taking you in the best possible way. You licked your lips and your breath quickened. 

As the concert came to an end you needed to find a way to cool off. You told your friends you’d meet them outside, and you went to the restroom. Standing at the sink, you splashed water on your face and chest. Your shirt was soaked from sweat and water, and you could clearly see your blue lace bra through the wet material. 

Walking out of the bathroom you ran into something solid, well, someone. It was Jensen. He grabbed your arms to prevent you from falling, and his touch sent electricity and goosebumps through your body. 

His smell was intoxicating, it was a mixture of his cologne, sweat, beer and mint gum. Your walls quivered with anticipation. “Hi, I’m Jensen, and you are?” He flashed his smile at you. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.” You shook his hand. “I’m sorry I ran into you. I should have been paying attention.” He smiled, “It’s okay darling. So did you enjoy the show tonight?” 

“Oh yes, very much. It was unbelievable. You sounded incredible.” You smiled softly at Jensen as he stepped closer to you. He cupped your face and leaned in closer. He was looking between your lips and your eyes. You licked your lips and leaned closer.

Jensen’s lips pressed softly against yours, his hands finding your hair, and your hands sliding behind his neck and your fingers running through his damp hair. He deepened the kiss by swiping his tongue over your lip, you parted your mouth allowing him entrance. 

As the kiss heated up, you moaned into his mouth. He backed you into a room, kicking the door shut with his foot and he locked it. Once inside The two of you started shedding clothes like they were on fire. Jensen pressed your naked body against the cold wall and a shiver went down your body. 

Jensen’s fingers were trailing down your body and his lips kissed down your neck to your breasts. His tongue flicked each nipple, causing it to harden. You could feel your arousal running down your thighs. 

Your head tilted back as Jensen’s fingers found your folds and slipped between them. “Oh Jensen,” You whispered. Jensen’s finger slipped inside you and you moaned. He began moving his thick digit in and out, hooking it up and hitting your g-spot. You moved your hips in time with his movements, chasing your release.

Jensen slipped in another finger, causing you to gasp. His movement became faster as he felt your walls tighten. “Oh God, yes!” He moaned. ��Tell me what you want sweetheart.” “You, please I want you to fill me up.” “Mmm, not yet baby girl, cum for me first. I want to feel you come undone on my fingers.”

You panted as Jensen hooked his fingers inside you and with each thrust he pushed you closer to your release. Jensen leaned into your ear “Cum for me baby, let go.” You came hard and he kept pumping, causing you to scream out in ecstasy.

Jensen kissed your lips with a smirk on his face, “That’s it baby, let it all go.” You felt yourself cum again and your legs started to tremble. 

Your body responded to his touch like no other man. You opened your eyes and took in his gorgeous toned body and saw his hardened length. You licked your lips with anticipation. The need to feel him inside you was growing with every second, but you really wanted to taste him too. 

You dropped to your knees, taking his length in your hand, you licked the pink tip of his engorged cock. He sucked in air and instinctively grabbed your head when you started sucking him down your throat. He started fucking your mouth fast, causing tears to well in your eyes. 

“Fuck, that feels so good!” Jensen moaned. You took him deep down your throat, using your tongue to lick and swirl around his shaft. As you pulled his cock out you let it pop a bit. A little string of spit and precum formed between your mouth and his cock. 

You looked up at him and his eyes were dark with lust. Jensen helped you up and pushed you back towards the couch. As your legs hit the couch, you fell down. You giggled and Jensen laughed. You laid back on the couch and Jensen climbed between your legs. 

He positioned his cock to your entrance and pushed in. Both of you gasped, your hands gripped his shoulders, and his head fell to the crook of your neck. “Damn sweetheart, you feel so incredible.” 

“Please, Jensen.” You begged. “Please what?” “I need you to move, I want to feel every inch of you, please.” “Mmm I like you begging.” He smirked. Jensen bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled out and pushed back in, pushing you further into the cushion. Your legs wrapped around him as he pushed deeper inside you. Every thrust, every inch pushing in and hitting that spot again. 

Jensen pulled you up with him and your legs were on either side of his thighs. You steadied yourself on his length by holding onto his broad shoulders. You started bouncing up and down, taking every inch of his cock deep inside. Each bounce you could feel Jensen’s cock hitting your cervix. Your breasts were bouncing and Jensen’s hands were gripping your hips tightly. You knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. His mouth sucked on your nipples as you threw your head back grinding your body into him. 

Jensen flipped you back over onto your back. Your body and his body were glistening with sweat. You could feel your release building again. The sound of panting and moans mingled in the air with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. “Oh fuck, Y/N, you feel so good. Your pussy stretching around me and taking every inch of me.” You felt your release close, “Jensen, I’m gonna cum.” “Me too, fuck! Cum with me.” With one final thrust, Jensen came as your release hit. Your walls clenching around his length, milking his hot seed out, as he coated your walls.

As Jensen began to soften, he pulled out. Spilling some of his seed out onto the couch. He grabbed some towels and cleaned you up, then him. He wiped the couch up and threw the towel to the side. 

“You were amazing, Y/N. Damn that felt good.” Your face was blushed with redness from heat and sex, “You weren’t half bad yourself, Ackles.” You grinned at him. 

“Oh, not half bad? Okay, I guess we’re gonna have to go another round then.” He smiled as he kissed your lips. You grinned, “I think I can handle that, but let’s go home first. I’d rather be in our bed.”

The two of you got dressed and before Jensen unlocked the door he kissed you again, “The kids are staying at Jared and Gen’s house tonight, so I’ve got you all to myself, Mrs. Ackles.” “Good, because I’m not finished with you yet, Mr. Ackles.” 

He laughed and kissed your forehead, grabbing your hand and walking with you towards the car. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jens.”

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[pedge-page]

I’m absolutely IN. LOVE. with ur Joel/baby Sarah/wife!Reader masterlist and all their wacky adventures 😍🤪! When u have the time and if u feel drawn to the suggestion, I hope to see reader and Joel have a cute hubby & wifey moment (either before or after Sarah, ur pick) and not just Joel having high blood pressure all the time 🤣. Have an awesome weekend!!! 😘

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: My Wife, My Love, My Life

notes: thank you for the request! Decided to make this one after Sarah is born but the focus towards the end is Joel and Reader.

Warnings: Oral m!receiving, blowjob, facial, very brief unprotective penetration

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You didn’t ever think this day would come. Not now, not so soon at least, but certainly you had hoped it would never come.

Yet as you packed your suitcase, your eyes welled with tears. Your bedroom, the one you’d shared with your husband for years for every single night you two were together, was about to be foreign. No longer sharing his warm embrace, his caresses and morning kisses.

 You were leaving him behind.

 Memoriese placate your mind, routines and dents of the bed were about to be disrupted for the first time, and your heart ached at the idea.

Worst yet, you were leaving your own daughter, your sweet little angel who was not even one year old. She’s too young, should you even be separated from her at this age? How badly would this scar her? How much would she remember her own mother, who showed nothing but love and care and smiles for her entire existence, how much would that penetrate her memory of you as you abandon your family—

“Are you crying’ again?” Joel asks from the doorway. “It’s only a week!”

You sniffle and toss your blazer into your bag, avoiding him. “I don’t wanna go.”

You’re just traveling for a brief work trip just for the week then you’ll be back this time next Sunday, but STILL. All of those things hold true(ish), and it still hurts to have to say goodbye—

“Would you relax, honey. Christ.”

Even if your husband doesn’t care, you know Sarah will feel the pain of her own Momma leaving her behind with no reason she can possibly come to understand—

 “You are so clingy and needy—“

JOEL WOULDYOUSHUTTHEFUCKUP I'MHAVINGAMOMENT, DAMNIT.

You sigh heavily and zip up the bag before lugging it to the ground. He raises his eyebrow as you storm by, his arms folded with a bemused smirk.

“Oh it’s funny to you? Guess you do want me gone—“

“It’s a week,” he reminds you firmly, his hands rubbing along bothy your arms. “It’s gonna be like a vacation for you!” 

His words of encouragement suck ass because your ideal vacation is with your family. No, this was more like hell. 

And Joel seemed to be loving every minute of it.

“Don’t forget ya moisturizer, oh and I packed ya some snacks for the plane. Plus some pepper spray, which you gotta put in your checked bag cuz they ain’t gonna let ya through security. Your passport is in your purse already…” 

He was practically ushering you straight out the door. Running around the house like road runner, athering everything ahead of time, getting your little carry on and security tag and even breakfast quickly made for you to ‘make you not worry about a thing’.

No. The fucker was getting rid of you for sure, and glad of it—

“Stop sitting there with that face,” he says.

You sit down and shove your eggs in your mouth. “What face?” You snap.

“The ‘he’s intentionally trying to get rid of you’ one you got on right now. Just want ya to be prepared is all.”

You quickly wipe your expression but scowl at him when he has his back turned. 

After breakfast, you kissed your baby goodbye. She was still sleeping soundly in her crib. Joel supervised you from the hall to make sure you didn’t try to sneak her into your purse so you could take her with you.

“Ok you have enough milk in the freezer and some already thawed in the fridge when she wakes up. You have teething rings, you know how to heat her bottle, you have her burp blanket—“ you list each one on your fingers as he backing you up to the car.

“Yes,yes,yes,yes! Honey, I got it all—“

“I bought groceries already for the week —“

“And if ya missed anything, I can go grab it myself. I can cook, you know that. Got ya in bed with my food before so—“

“Joel I’m serious.” You stop him. but as you think it over, you know he’s right. He’s like a pro at taking care of you and Sarah. You’re just trying to avoid the feeling that she’s gonna miss you gone. 

Maybe she won’t even notice you're gone…

Joel catches your eyes faltering, lips trembling as water shines in your eyes. 

“Nonono! It’s gonna be okay.” He hugs you, his soft hands securely stroking your back until he can feel you breathe slowly again.

“I know I know. I’m just. I’m gonna miss you both.”

“The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back,” he hums reassuringly. 

You pull away and frown. “Definitely looking forward to getting rid of me—“ you seethe under your breath.

“OH GET IN THE DAMN CAR.”

-

Joel just got the text from you that you on time and safely boarded onto the flight. He knows you’ll be out of contact with cell service for the majority of the week since you were going to be out of the states, so he’s glad you were able to message him this last time. 

And while no he was NOT glad you were leaving, he wasn’t complaining either. You needed some alone time. You were preggo monster for 9 months and now non stop mom ever since. He could tell from the bags under your eyes and short temper that you needed a little vacation. It didn’t matter if you realized it or not. This conference was a blessing in disguise. There would only be a few hours a day of work stuff, then you could go to the pool, the gym, get a massage, anything you wanted was included.

And he’d get some fantastic quiet time without your nagging just for a little. A mini vacation for him too for the first time in…well, ever.

A win-win for you both.

Sarah was just rousing from her sleep, stretching her arms wide with a big yawn and wiggly toes. He sends a quick pic of her with her hazy eyes before scooping her up.

“Ready for some food, girlie?” He nuzzles his face into her chest, and she giggles happily.

It takes probably 5 minutes of Sarah sucking down her bottle in her high chair on her own before she’s looking around the strangely vacant house.

“Mum-ma?” She asks curiously, just as Joel returns to dump some cereal on her tray.

“Mommy’s left to go go on a trip. Just you and me this week, kid.” He rubs her head affectionately.

Joel really didn’t expect Sarah to fully grasp anything he says, but evidently she did understand “mommy” and “left” and that was it.

Her face scrunches up and she immediately launches into the loudest cries known to man. 

Joel was prepared for this. “Okay, okay Sarah, I know, you miss Momma,” he grabs a host of items: her pacifer, her bunny stuffed animal, her favorite chocolate that you told Joel she couldn’t have but he whips out for energencies like this. Even with his smiling face level with her pained one, wiggling each item excitedly, nothing seemed to be doing the trick. If anything, she wailed longer and harsher, kicking the table and slamming her bottle down until it rattled to the floor.

He eventually picks her up and tries rocking and bouncing, but she just shakes her head furiously. Her face is all red, fat tears dampening her little cotton onesie, with one hand scrunching his shirt and pushing him off. “You get this drama queen shit from your mom,” he tuts.

He sets her down on the floor, and Sarah immediately starts crawling towards the garage door, pointing to Joel to open it.

“She ain’t there, baby. She’ll be back—“

She screams harder, aggressively patting the door and looking back at him like she’s pleading.

He scoops her up again and takes her to the living room. He’s running out of ideas to get her to settle. Checked her diaper just in case, rejected any food, all toys were no hope. He was gonna lose his hearing at this rate.

Joel thought it would take at least the rest of the day before she would notice but this shit might be harder than he thought. If she kept huffing and puffing to keep taking a scream, or shed any more waterfall of tears, he’d have to take her to the hospital for dehydration and shortness of breath.

Sarah crawls over to the couch and yanks on the dangling blanket, pulling down pillows all over top her. He chuckles as she disappears into the mound, but can see her little form navigating from the top. Finally, the sandworm baby stops moving, and he notices her crying desist.

“Oh shit. I already killed her.”

He gently pulls pillows away until he finds Sarah with her face down, diaper bum up and her nose buried in your favorite blanket. She was smelling your scent, and that seemed to calm her almost immediately. Joel sits down and pulls the blanket free, and Sarah panics, reaching out for it desperately. He hands it back to her, and she grips it tightly, pushing her face into the soft coziness. It was still slightly warm with your body heat. Since you use it every time you’re in the living room, it smelled exactly like you.

Sarah takes a deep breath, clearing her cries. She crawls into Joel’s lap and tugs as much of it as she can along with her, sitting down between his thighs and cuddling the blanket around her.

Joel grabs the other end and smells it, and your scent floods his brain with endorphins. “I miss her too, bubba.” He leans and plants a kiss on her head, giving her the pinky back into her now accepting mouth.

She continued to play with her toys on the floor, blanket right next to her everywhere she went. Sometimes, she would just pause and nuzzle her face into it, sighing deeply and then continuing. Even Spoon was feeling the effects. Curled up by the door, whining occasionally, but otherwise just guarding the entrance, waiting for your return. Joel even pitied the big girl and allowed her on the bed so she could curl up into your spot.

Sarah was on her best behavior as much as she could be. She only cried when she was hungry or needed changing. She understood there’s no humor in bullying Joel unless you were here to punish him. 

Things were going great so far for him. 

And Joel felt pretty relaxed too. He could catch up on some programs, get some work done, go to bed when he needed it. It was peaceful.

But it wasn’t until a few nights in that he noticed life wasn’t as dandy. And it wasn’t Sarah that was making it evident.

It was him.

-

As you board your flight back home, nothing brings you more peace of mind than imagining walking back into your house. 

Joel was right, this was somewhat of a mini vacation. And while it was nice, the bed wasn’t right. Didn’t matter how much money they spent on the king sized memory foam body conforming mattress with silk sheets and pressure release pillows. It just wasn’t the same as the 10 year old spring queen sized mattress that you and Joel had been cramming your asses on since you moved in together and the flat-no shape pillow that you had since you were in college. No amount of Michelin star chef prepared meals could match Joel’s empanadas and rice. 

There wasn’t even anything to compare to being curled up with Joel and Sarah on the couch, watching tv until you both fell asleep in his strong, secure arms.

So in the end, you were right (as always). And damned be Joel, but you wouldn’t be listening to him ever again. If you have to go on a trip again, you’ll just bring them along or quit your job. Easy peasy.

Part of you wonders if he was still having a superb time away from you. Doing all kinds of work around the house without you nagging or asking for dinner, or having him fetch a billion snacks for you because you’re too lazy to get up, or rub your feet or your back or your calves or your clit, or getting a blanket or turning on the fan…damn you were annoying as well. And he does it all. He’s probably gonna see you walk in and sigh disappointingly, joking that he wished it lasted longer. You wonder if he and Sarah now morphed into best of pals, and she no longer considered you her #1. 

Oh fuck, I’m gonna start crying on the damn plane.

 By the time you landed, you couldn’t get in touch with Joel. you had received a text selfie image of him and Sarah smiling with the caption “Can’t wait to see you!”. You smile to yourself. God, you’ll risk getting a ticket just to speed home right now.

1.5 hours after you drive home, you open the familiar door. The aroma of home surrounds you, and you couldn’t be happier.

As does a squealing baby being carried by your big ass husband, who both immediately attack you out of thin hair with warm hugs. Spoon wags excitedly beneath you.

You nuzzle yourself into Joel’s neck just as Sarah nuzzles herself into your chest. The four of you stand there for moment, eyes closed and silently grateful.

And wafting. 

Joel and Sarah’s noses and Spoon's especially were twitching and sucking in air against your skin and clothes, more so than hugging you.

“Oh are we…we are smelling me…” you say matter-of-factly but a little confused. Shit do I smell that bad??

He’s about to say something when you snatch Sarah and begin talking to her. She  comfortably hands on your hip as you two chat (well, more like you chat and she babbles excitedly but you return the audience). It was late, and as you rocked her to sleep in your arms, you set her down in her crib, rubbing her belly softly as she soothed to sleep.

You close the door behind you when another hand gently clasps yours.

Joel doesn’t say anything, which surprises you. He’s more stoic than usual. He takes you down the hall and into your bathroom and turns on the tub.

He starts shucking off your clothing without a word. Shirt over head, then bra clasp, pants unzipped and dragged down. you can’t even stop him, he’s so gentle yet determined. and truthfully, you didnt have it in you to give him return home sex he’d probably been missing.

“Joel,” you say softly, and he shivers. “Um, I’m a little tired, but I promise tomorrow I will—“

“Tub,” he commands. 

You tilt your head in confusion but step into the basin, now stark naked. The water is just perfect. You sink in until it’s level with your chest. Joel mixes in some suds and pulls his mini stool next to the edge, and begins massaging your shoulders.

“Oh honey you don’t need to do that,” you insist. “I got a massage when I was there…” 

He doesn’t say anything but keeps going. And it’s not until he really finds your sensitive areas that you realize you do, in fact, need this. You sigh contently as he works the particularly troublesome knots in your shoulders, then gently over your neck. His hands, god you miss those hands, feel like heaven. After a few moments of you letting out soft moans, he lathers your expensive ‘for rare occasion’ shampoo and begins slathering it in your hair. With exceptional care, he works his fingers in circles, and you can feel your eyes going cross eyed with the thorough job he’s spoiling you with. Your whole body feels relaxed like a warm sheet of butter folding into a decadent pastry.  You simmer and sink down even lower, indicating you’re incredibly tranquil. 

He still remains silent. You can’t see him as you face the opposite end of the bathroom. Just the two of your breathing falling in sync.

Once finished, he pats you dry with fresh and warm towels, carries you bridal style to your bed.

You think now maybe he’s gotten you ready and pliant so he can rail your back out of place, but instead, he lays you on your side of the bed and tucks you into the sheets.

He tosses his socks and plows into the bed on his side, crawling up to you and putting himself face down into your chest and neck. He takes the biggest, longest breath possible through his nose before letting it out with a satisfied hum. Closing his eyes, Joel allows himself to relax, surrounding himself with you, his hand protectively over your stomach and absent-mindedly swishing back and forth with his thumb.

You giggle, smelling his sweet brown curls and rolling his hair through your fingers. “Did my clingy needy husband miss me?” You tease.

He’s already snoring and drooling into your breasts.

-

Joel’s having an out of body experience right now, and he can’t tell if he’s dreaming. There’s a fantastic, tingling, pleasurable feeling dancing along his entire body. He stirs slightly, letting out an audible groan. Something is warm against him, wet and moving, and it feels like a massage from heaven. He can’t exactly piece together what it is, still floating through his subconscious trying to rouse him awake, but still so blissfully relaxed he can’t quite fully awaken yet. He was out so deep last night in your embrace. Surrounded by your presence, your smell, your touch and breath and love and body. 

His lashes flutter open, and the ceiling blur takes shape before him. He’s lying on his back in the bed, with something heavy against his lower half. sounds make their way to his ear, his own rugged gasps getting louder as the sensations more clearly are identified, sending signals of euphoria to his brain. He rasps out, eyes widening, and groggily tilts his chin down to see you; your mouth sloppily taking his hardened cock over and over, slurping the saliva and coating him with your talented tongue. You suck on his tip before working down his massive length, your other hand expertly jerking in rhythm what you can’t fit.

He chokes, still unsure if what he’s seeing and feeling is a dream. He hopes it’s not a dream. 

The sounds from his throat cause you to peer up. A slight warm, loving grin tugging at your lips to make eye contact with him as you give him the morning blow job of his life.

And that does it for him. He yelps, stomach tightening before hot ropes of his seed shoot out of his tip like a canon. You bare down and suction your lips to his pulsing dick, feeling each throb deposit his sticky hot cum into your mouth. You gulp and gulp over and over, not nearly quick enough as his cream overwhelms you and bulges out of your cheeks. Even after you’ve coughed, his cock doesn’t stop, splashing all over your face in ribbons, one after the other, as he lets out drawn out moans, eyes rolled back and head arched into the pillow. He’s seeing stars, ruining your face like a mud mask of his spent. By the time he’s finished, he looks back down to see your slightly shocked expression, mouth agape with cum pouring down your forehead and eyelids, cheeks and chin, back onto his stomach.

He’s struggling to return from cloud nine. Brain hasn’t been this foggy even when high and drunk. He feels like sinking into the mattress and retiring from life.

You finally chuckle at his current state. “You didn’t get off all week did you?” He shakes his head side to side, eyes closed. You crawl up next to him, using his bedside tissues to wipe your face clean.

“I hope you liked it, I couldn’t wait for you to wake up—“

“Quit your job,” he says quietly.

He opens his eyes and rolls over to kiss your forehead and lie on top of you, his body conforming to yours. You feel his face nudged into your neck again as his back relaxes. You give him a confused look.

“I’ll take on extra projects,” he continues plainly. “Work extended nights. Just don’t leave us like that again.”

You cup his face in your hands to look at you. He’s sincere, kissing your palms and rubbing his cheek into your touch like a puppy. 

You can’t help but smile.

“You missed me that much? Thought it was a mini vacation!”

He shakes his head. “It sucked,” he pouts like a child, hugging you tighter.

It was by the 4th night in that Joel realized it.

He prepared his solo meal quietly, served Sarah her mushy food quietly, and sat down at the table quietly. With only her little happy coos here and there, and him blowing on his own meal, he never realized just how quiet everything is without you.

Your chair was empty. Your side of the bed was cold. The house was so vacant without one person that it almost just feels like a building rather than a home. He realized he just gets up, feeds and talks to Sarah and spends time with her, then as soon as she’s in bed, he’s just. Existing. There. With nothing to do. He loved taking care Sarah, but she was pretty self sustaining. She was doing a hell of a lot better than he was. He tried busying himself with housework or TV or construction projects he had been wanting to do, but it all just felt like work. Like everything he did for himself was a chore. 

He didn’t want to do anything if you weren’t there to see him by the end of the day. 

He remembers when he used to thrive when he was living by himself. But he also realized… he hasn’t lived by himself in years. Since before he met you. 

“You know I can’t quit my job, right?”

He grumbles but nods into your breasts.

“And I don’t want you taking on extra projects. I want to see you at the end of the day too. Tell you this: if I get another conference, either my family comes, or I don’t go. Deal?”

“Deal.” He kisses your chest before shimmying his way up your body until he’s fully over top you. “Otherwise I’ll tear your boss a new asshol—“

“Joel.”

“I’m just saying. Everyone wants to keep ya from me—“

“Joel.”

“N’ as your husband and baby daddy, I have a right to say where you put that ass every night and it should be right up against my di—“

“Just kiss me already.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He captures your lips with his hungrily. You feel his knees nudging yours apart, slotting himself perfectly between your bodies. The freshly hardened tip of his cock breaches your entrance, but Joel doesnt even let you gasp. His lips remain sealed on yours.

 He wasn’t going to let you get away that easily again. Not even for a second. 

- - - -

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ HER FURY

ᯓ★ Reader has EXTREME emotional detachment/anger issues, enemies to lovers trope (?), John loves to rile up reader, angst (mention of r-word but it doesnt happen dw), slight gore?, lots of funny shi tho, intense smooching but nothing crazy 🤯, reader is fem!!! (Literally writing this instead of doing my assignment, didnt proof read I rushed)

ᯓ★

Pairing you and John up for any mission was a recipe for disaster. Yet Dutch doesn't seem to catch the memo about the chemistry between you both. You HATED John and he? He enjoys that you hate him. As a matter of fact, he gets the thrill out of pissing you off. Because everybody and I mean EVERYBODY at camp knows you have a bad temper. It's just some of them happen to value their life instead of testing your limits.

Nonetheless Dutch had asked of you and John to confront a company man in Saint Denis. The details were that he had a contract that you needed to steal from him. You didn't know much but all you knew was that he played the chief into giving up all his property to the him and with the crew needing help from the chief, this was the only way to do it.

You're never a complainer when it comes to being assigned a mission but since you're being paired up with John and not to mention being told to do it this early in the morning.

You were pissed.

"Can't believe I'm doing this in the morning... Out of everyone Dutch should know I'm not a morning person" You cursed before riding off with John matching your pace on his horse.

Hearing your muttered curses, he can't help but smirk.

"Ain't that the truth. I don’t think anyone in this gang is a mornin’ person" He said.

"Oh shut up" You simply replied.

John doesn't say anything but chuckle at your annoyance. Eventually you two made it to the city, you both dismounted your horses and tied them to a nearby hitching pole. Even in the early morning, the city of Saint Denis was already bustling with activity, horse-drawn wagons passed by, and people hustled and bustled about their business.

John and you made your way through the city, eyeing the people around you and listening for any clues about the man Dutch sent you to hunt down. As you made your way down the sidewalk, you couldn't help but glare at every businessman your eyes laid upon. The way they speak and act just manages to tick you off. This however caught John's attention.

"Ain't you just a ray of sunshine" He sarcastically said and it made you look at him with your brows narrowed.

"What?"

"What? You're scarin' the city folks, that's what"

You scoff.

"All these rich folks just make me all pissed off. Actin' all high and mighty like their lives are worth more than the poor. It's all about class 'til you're talking to someone beneath you"

John chuckled, his eyes following your gaze as you glared at the next businessman walking past you.

"I don’t blame ya. Most of these fools wouldn’t last a day out there tryin’ to survive. They ain’t got any idea what it’s really like" He said and you somehow found yourself nodding to his words.

Suddenly your eyes stopped at a figure hurrying outside a tailor shop. His appearance fitting the very description Dutch had provided you. You nudged John with your elbow and you jerked your head towards the target. John followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the man you pointed at. He studied him for a moment, taking in his features and behaviour.

"I think that's him" You said.

"Seems like it" he answered in a serious tone.

"He’s in a pretty big hurry to get somewhere, ain't he?" He pointed out the obvious.

"Well let's make sure he doesn't get there" Before you even finished talking you were already going after the man.

The two of you started following the man while making sure to keep some distance as to not raise any suspicion. Eventually, the man's route lead the two of you to a quieter part of the city, away from most of the people. John shot a glance your way, a silent question in his eyes of what to do next.

You don't say anything but the mischief on your face somehow answered that question in his head.

"Hey!!" You called out to the guy who's body tenses at your voice. Despite you trying to plaster on a smile, it just made you come off scary.

"What do you want? Money?" he asked gruffly, his hand reaching for something inside his pocket discreetly.

"Money? Is that what you think what my kind is always after?" You approached him slowly and John simply watched from a feet away, his arms crossed with a glimpse of amusement on his face.

He had to admit, this is always the best part of being paired up with you.

"I heard from a birdy that you've done something terrible... you wouldn't happen to be familiar with the chief now would you?" You placed a hand on his shoulder and from how the man's eyes widened slightly at your question and the hint of nervousness displayed on his face.

You knew this was the right guy.

"And who might you be? A-And why should I tell you anything about my business with the chief?" He asked, his tone guarded and wary with suspicion.

When your hands came down to smooth out the wrinkled fabric of his suit, he yelps at the sudden tuck of his tie. You laugh it off.

"I'm simply a nobody but I know damn well you tricked the chief into giving up half his property to your company. Now I don't care what you need it for but there's nothing more that I hate than a lying scum" You flash him a smile before grabbing him forcefully by the jaw. Your action causing him to panic.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about! Let me go!!" He stammered, his mask now slipping away to reveal his true self.

"Give me the contract sir and you won't be leaving here with a broken nose" You casually spoke and John stepped a feet closer to the scene.

"Just do what she says sir" John added and the man looks between the two of you before finally nodding quickly.

"O-Okay!! It's in my pocket!!" He said and you gave him a warning look before releasing your grip on him.

He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before taking out a crumpled piece of paper. You raise your eyebrow as you took it from him, then unfolding it to read the words written on it properly. Once you were sure it was the real thing, you turn to face John who has a small smirk on his face from observing the confrontation.

"Well, well... that was quite the performance darlin" He said, taking the contract from you the second you handed it to him.

"I ain't your darlin" You said as you walked past him and back onto the city streets. He chuckles softly while following you from behind.

"Oh, that's right. You ain’t my darlin’, you're just someone extremely stubborn and bossy who I gotta follow around all day" He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Glad we've got that cleared out"

Suddenly the sound of a whistle pierced through the air. John's expression darkened at the sight of the lawmen headed at the direction of the two of you.

"Great, now the law is after us. Figures" He remarked at the turns of events but you were already halfway getting onto your horse.

"Are you plannin' on staying?!" You shouted and he didn't need to be told twice as he quickly got on his horse.

The two of you quickly rode off and you checked over your shoulder to see several lawmen hot on your trail. Their guns firing as they tried to stop you from escaping. John, too, was firing his pistol as he rode, his aim steady and focused. You let out an annoyed groan before taking out your rifle and began shooting at the reinforcements coming from the left.

"Now I'm thinking if I should have killed the guy!" You shouted before shooting one square in the face.

John chuckled grimly as he watched you take out another lawman, his focus still on the ones from behind.

"Maybe you should've done us all a favor and put him out of his misery. Would've saved us a whole lot of trouble" He said and with half of them taken out and some on their way. You quickly looked around for an escape route.

"There!! The trees!!" You pointed.

John followed your lead, steering his horse into the trees as you both hid together. The two of you waited silently, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts as the lawmen rode past, their horses' hooves thundering against the ground. Once they were out of sight, John let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Well, that was a close call" he muttered, his voice a little out of breath.

"I suppose I should be thanking you for getting us into this mess in the first place, then?" He manages to say even after barely making it out. You shoot him a death glare.

"Now I'm wishing Dutch had picked Javier to come with me" You said before galloping the way back to camp.

John raises his brows out of shock at your sudden confession. Quickly and almost desperately, he catches up to you and rode alongside you.

"Oh, come on, I ain't that bad" he countered, his tone feigning offense.

"You're worse" You said and like always, you rode off in a haste, leaving him completely behind. He sighs as he watches you go.

-

Once you made it back to camp, John arrived right after you. He got off his horse and he watches as you hand Dutch the contract before heading to your tent. When he tries to say something to you, you gave him a middle finger with your back facing him. Clearly noticing you're not in a good mood, he shrugs and walked away.

John had an amused look on his face as he stood beside Arthur, the two of them watching you practically storming inside your tent.

"She's quite the firecracker, ain't she?" John said and it had Arthur chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Oh, that she does" he agreed with a smirk on his face.

"Although I gotta say, it's rather entertaining to see her riled up" He added.

Just then they see Uncle headed towards your tent. Clearly looking to ask you for something.

"This can go wrong in so many ways" Arthur observed.

The second Uncle made contact with your tent, that was it.

"GET OUT!!! GET THE FUCK OUT!!" You shouted and threw a candle that merely missed him by the head.

John and Arthur couldn't help but burst out laughing as they watched Uncle trip and fall on his way from your tent. Everybody knows that you hate getting your alone time interrupted, especially when you're tired or had just came back from a rough mission so anyone who tried to talk to you was practically asking for it.

"That poor bastard" John said, wiping a tear from his eye while Arthur's laughter was subsiding slowly.

"I gotta give him credit for trying though. He's either really brave or really stupid to approach when she's in a mood like that" Arthur chuckled.

Soon Javier joined the conversation, confusion and curiosity shown on his face.

"Well speak of the devil. Just in time to witness (Y/N) in all her glory" John said and Javier raised his brows in surprise.

"Ah, is she in a mood again? I thought I heard her yelling from all the way over there" Javier said and mirrored the other two who were standing and facing your tent.

"You heard right and apparently Uncle was unfortunate enough to be the first one to try and talk to her" John said with a slight smirk on his face.

"Poor bastard probably got an earful" Javier shaked his head with a chuckle.

"But I wonder why she's always so angry, there has to be a reason to her anger" Javier spoke and it sparked something inside John's mind.

He always figured it was something apart of your character so he never thought to view things like that.

"Who knows? Dutch found her in the woods alone, starved to bone and yet she still had the energy to fight. She was only 9 and she never told us why she was out there all alone" Arthur answered.

"Poor girl"

"Yeah"

As the two kept on talking. John was standing there with his arms crossed as he's completely lost in his mind. The one question he never thought he should pay more attention to.

Why were you angry?

-

The evening came fast. Everybody was busy doing their own thing and John was simply relaxing by the chair until he heard sounds of giggles. The voice was awfully familiar so he got up to follow the source of the sound. To his surprise he found you playing with Jack by the grass a bit further from camp. You were teaching him how to make a flower crown and John couldn't help but notice the one on top of Jack's head.

"Well, I'll be damned" John muttered.

"She's a natural isn't she?" He jumps slightly at Hosea who pretty much came out of nowhere.

"Looks like she's got a soft spot for the kid" He added as the two watch you laugh when Jack began stressing over the steps.

"More like a natural pain in my ass" John said and Hosea snorts. The sound catching your attention almost immediately, the second your neck snapped towards their direction. The two knew what was coming.

"THE HELL ARE YOU TWO LOOKIN' AT?!" You cursed while amusingly at the same time were covering Jack's ears.

The sight was enough to have John grin.

"I didn't know you were a real softie for the kid!" He said while Hosea decided to leave for the sake of his safety.

"I bet you even read bedtime stories to the boy"

"She does!!" Jack said and you couldn't contain the betrayal on your face when you turned to look at him. Seeing your face, John laughs.

"Can I get a piggyback ride auntie (Y/N)?" Jack asked so innocently that you couldn't stay mad at him. You simply nodded and he giggled with excitement as he settled onto your back.

"Say the thing!!" Jack said and you awkwardly looked at John from the corner of your eyes to see him looking all curious.

Ah... this is so embarrassing...

"All abroad the (Y/N) express..." You said with less energy than you usually do but regardless Jack was having the time of his life.

This just made John burst out into laughter. If he thought he hadn't seen it all, he does now.

"Damn kids got a good grip on you" He said, following you as you carried Jack around the camp. Your expression stoic while Jack was acting as though he was flying.

"Good I wouldn't want him to fall" Hearing you say that, John couldn't help but let a genuine smile slip.

"Of course you wouldn't" He said, his tone more softer and now less teasing.

The second it was night time, it was your turn to patrol the grounds. You walked around, rifle in hand as you were on high alert and watching for any potential dangers. It was peaceful you had to admit, just you and the sounds of the trees rustling through the wind.

You continued on your patrol until your ears perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned around almost in a blink of an eye, rifle drawn at the figure nearing towards you... only to see it was none other than John.

Of course it's John.

Why wouldn't it be John?

"Can't you just leave me alone?" You asked while he had both his hands raised up.

"Wow now, I just wanted to keep you company"

"God you're like a poodle. Wouldn't leave me alone" You said as you lowered your rifle and continued on the path of your patrol. He snickers at your words.

"A poodle? That's a new one"

You simply ignored him hoping that he'll go away but instead he followed you. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up, his tone a little softer than usual.

"So, what made you suddenly decide to take Jack on your back and act all motherly-like?" He asked and you were hoping he would drop that topic by now.

"What do you mean? I'm always like that" You response made John raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his expression.

"You? Always motherly?" he chuckled, his skepticism evident.

"That's not the impression you usually give off, darlin"

"Oh please I can be nice. It's just some people don't deserve that from me"

"And who exactly doesn't deserve your so-called kindness?" he inquired, knowing very well that the list was probably long.

"People who just keeps on pissing me off" You look over at him for a quick second that if he wasn't looking at you from the start, he would have missed it.

"You mean, like me?"

"Oh you just happen to be at the top of my list" John chuckled, clearly enjoying your blunt honesty.

"I'm honored. It's good to know that I'm holding the top spot on your list of people you hate most" He said with a sarcastic voice.

After what felt like minutes of walking around, you let out a yawn as you decided to rest by a log. John stood by where you're sitting, his arms crossed as he tilts his head at you.

"Exhausted?" He asks.

"Of your shit? Yeah, just about"

He rolls his eyes at your reply before making himself sit down beside you. You stare off into the distance, at the brightly litted camp. He stared at the emotionless look on your face. Almost like all joy was sucked out of you. Sensing this might the best time and the only time he'll get, he decided to ask something.

"I heard that Dutch found you alone in the woods when you were 9. How'd that come to be?" He asks and you were still for a second before your eyes turned to look at him. With the way you were staring at him so coldly, he was wondering if he had pissed you off.

"... how would you understand?" You asked and he paused for a moment, his expression hardening slightly.

He understood your hint that you didn't think he would understand how you felt, which rubbed him the wrong way. He let out a scoff, his irritation growing.

"I ain't some damn fool, darlin'. Don't assume I can't empathize with you just cause I ain't the most sensitive person in this gang" He said and you stared at him a little longer before letting out a defeated sigh.

"I grew up in a poor family. Everyday it was a struggle to even put food on our plate. So one day my deadbeat father thought it would better off selling me and my sisters to some rich perverts. I fought like hell to run away. In a way I thought it would be better having my body torn apart by the wolves than to have a man touch me inappropriately" You said and every word that came out of you made John's mouth go dry.

It's no stranger that majority of everyone in the gang had their troubling past but to hear it from the very person who barely ever expressed themselves. It was different.

"I hated my dad. Fuck. I hated my mom more for not doing anything. The more I grew up, the more I grew to hate everybody. This ain't even the life I wanna live so what's the point of loving it" You cursed, your hands now clenching into a fist.

"So you hate everyone because of what your parents did to ya? Don't get me wrong, they sure can rot in hell for what they did but for you to keep everyone at arm's length? Don't you think it's a bit lonely? Living like that?" He said and you looked at him.

"You're the one telling me this?"

"I'm just sayin', pushing everyone away ain't gonna fill that loneliness inside you, darlin'." He said.

You stared at him, contemplating a bit while John held your gaze, his dark eyes studying your face intently. He could see the conflict in your expression, the internal struggle you were having with yourself. He shifted slightly, leaning closer towards you. His voice was low and earnest as he spoke.

"You can't keep running from your feelings, darlin'. Sooner or later, they'll catch up to you" He said.

"And what if they hurt me again?" You said and guilty enough your eyes trailed down to his lips which made John's breath hitch as he felt his pulse quicken for a brief moment before he quickly composed himself.

"What if they don't, darlin'? What if you're just letting your fears control you? Letting you miss out on something great? On moments that could possibly make you feel alive again?" He said, forcing his voice to remain even and steady.

Alive...

You looked at him and he swore he has never seen you this vulnerable before. So when you leaned in towards him, John's heart skipped a beat. Your lips inches apart that for a brief moment he thought you were going to do something unexpected... but then you pulled back, quickly standing up and breaking the closeness between you two. John felt a pang of disappointment in his chest, though he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"Where you going?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"To sleep" You said, rifle held by your side as you went. He doesn't say anything as he remained seated on the log. He let out a sigh and turned his gaze towards the ground, his thoughts a tangled mess in his head.

-

For the next few days, John had noticed the subtle changes in your behavior. He realized that you were deliberately avoiding him. You would steer clear of him whenever he was around, finding tasks or conversations to distract yourself elsewhere.

He couldn't help but feel confused and slightly hurt by your distant attitude. He hadn't done anything to warrant such coldness from you, and the only interaction you'd had was that brief exchange in the woods. So he figured it was because of that night that your behaviour have changed towards him.

John's irritation began to grow as your subtle avoidance continued. He couldn't understand why you were suddenly treating him like he didn't exist. He was used to your usual hostility, sure, but this was a different kind of cold shoulder. So there's no other solution but to confront you.

One evening, after the camp had quieted down for the night, John approached you while you were sitting alone, sharpening your knife. The second you became aware of his presence, you quickly got up and tried to leave however this time he stood in your way blocking your path.

"Now hold on a moment, we need to talk" He said firmly.

"There's nothing to talk about" You said and John grew annoyed at your dismissive response.

"Oh, there's plenty to talk about... You've been avoiding me like the plague for days now. Can you at least tell me what the hell I did to deserve this silent treatment?" He said and you couldn't help swallow anxiously.

"Maybe have you thought that it isn't about you?" You said and once again tried to walk past him but as predicted, he stood in your way. His body almost towering over yours.

"Don't give me that horseshit, I ain't blind. You've been avoiding me like the plague. And every time I try to talk to you, you practically bolt in the other direction" He said, clearly growing more infuriated.

"I'm a busy girl!"

"A busy girl, huh?" he repeated sarcastically, his tone laced with thinly veiled anger.

"I ain't buying it. You've always found time to be a pain in my ass, and now suddenly you're too damn busy to even look at me?"

""What the hell do you want from me John?! You just looking for someone to put your anger out on?!" You raised your voice and John wasn't afraid to match your tone.

"Maybe I am! Maybe I'm sick of your goddamn attitude, your constant need to push everyone away. You ain't fooling anyone with your coldness. You're scared!"

"I'm scared?!"

"Yeah, you're scared. You're scared of letting anyone in, scared of letting your guard down. You act tough and distant 'cause you think it'll keep you safe. But it's all just a—"

Before he could continue on talking, you suddenly grabbed him by the collar to kiss him on the lips. The action clearly caught John off guard, his surprise evident on his face. But his body responded to you despite his confusion, his own anger fueling his reaction.

He returned the kiss passionately, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you against him in a tight embrace. The kiss was fierce and consuming, both of you releasing all the pent up frustration and tension between you two.

John's hands ran over your body, his touch greedy and possessive. He pressed himself hard against you, his body molding to yours as if he couldn't get close enough.

He broke the kiss for a brief moment, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark with desire. He captured your lips again, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth as his hands roamed under your shirt, exploring the bare skin of your waist.

That was until the sound of someone talking from nearby that made the both of you snap out of the moment. John's attention snapped away from you for a brief moment, his eyes darting towards the source of the noise.

He then took a step back, creating a small space between you now. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breaths after the intense moment you had just shared. Surprisingly you were the first to speak up.

"I... I didn't mean to avoid you... I was just scared of these feelings I felt around you... I thought ignoring it— ignoring you was the better idea" You said. After all, you weren't ever good at understanding your emotions.

John watched you, taking in the mixture of emotions that played across your face. He knew exactly what you were feeling because he knew what that feeling was. He took a step closer to you again, his expression now more serious.

"Sometimes we can't control how we feel, darlin'. And trust me, ain't nothing wrong with what we just did" He said, gently caressing the side of your face.

"... I'm fucking scared John... in this life I'm used to losing people, if I let myself feel things then I don't think I'll be able to survive the thought of losing you" You said, the fear in your confession made John frown a bit but there was this sweetness in his gaze when he cupped your face to look at him.

"I ain't going anywhere, darlin'. You ain't gonna lose me, I promise you that"

"You can't be sure" You said, your hands rested on top of his.

"You're right, I can't guarantee anything in this life... but I can promise you I'll do everything in my power to stay by your side. I ain't leaving you, no matter what. You got my word on that" He said, his eyes never leaving yours. You stared at him for a while before resting your head on his chest.

"God I hate you" You sighed but your lips formed a small smile. Seeing that, John couldn't help but chuckled, a warm, genuine smile spreading across his face as he wrapped his arms around you.

"You don't hate me. You can't stand me, though, I know that. But you definitely don't hate me. Otherwise, you wouldn't be leaning on me like this" He teased.

"Stop pushing your luck"

"Oh, come on, darlin'. You know you love me really" he said continuing his tease with a smirk on his face.

"Ugh..." You groaned and it had John chuckled again, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. He tightened his arms around you while holding you close to him, his face nuzzling into your hair and his voice lowering to a husky, teasing tone.

"You don't have to admit it right now... but I know you do..."

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 23: Boothill x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 4976

Warnings: Afab!reader, age difference, gunplay, a tiny bit of coercion on readers part, gun in mouth, dry humping

A/N: Okay, so I'm officially a day behind but! This one was a bit of a challenge for me, both because I've never really written any gunplay scenarios before but also because it was a bit of a brain twister trying to lock down his old west mannerisms with the silly potty word substitutes 🤭 Hopefully I didn't do too bad on either front!

⭐

The Galaxy Rangers were somewhat infamous for enjoying reckless games. The sort that more often than not ended in disastrous results, particularly when more than one of them had been taken out of commission by an unlucky Russian Roulette bullet. But like moths to the flame, those of you who lived by the creed of the Hunt were inexorably drawn to high adrenaline situations and the kind of fast paced excitement that made most others shy away for fear of life and limb. 

You were no different in this regard, and neither was Boothill. 

He’d mentored you for a very short while, back when you first took up Lan’s bow and set out into the vast cosmos to bring about some form of justice in a largely unjust universe. Treated you much like a daughter, in fact. 

And that just made the current situation of having his revolver shoved in your face all the more thrilling. 

“Fudging hell, girl! I almost blew your darned brains out! You can’t go around sneaking up on people like that. It’s not smart and it’s not safe!”

“Sorry.” You murmur, tipping your head just enough to peer around the barrel of his gun so you can pin him with a wholly innocent smile. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s been a long time since we last saw each other.” 

“Well, ya’ certainly surprised me.” Sighing out a terse, mildly bothered huff, Boothill fluidly relaxes out of his practiced shooting stance and gives his pistol a quick twirl before holstering it at his hip. The nervous people standing around the two of you who had backed up into a loose circle at the first sight of his pistol visibly relax but still quickly go about their business to avoid getting caught up in whatever trouble was brewing here on this particular street of Penacony’s Golden Hour. 

He doesn’t even seem to notice though, perfectly calm and casual now as he looks you up and down with a considering glance. “Glad to see you’re still kicking, I suppose. You didn’t exactly fill me with an overwhelming sense of confidence when I first met ya’, you know?” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, eagerly rocking up on your toes to lessen the height difference by a small margin. “Is that why you took me under your wing? To improve my chances of survival.”

He scoffs at that, metal hand coming up to brace along his equally metal hip. “I ain’t that fudging kindhearted so don’t get it twisted now. I just happened to see a little cowgirl who couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag if it was soaked through, and I couldn’t abide by that. Didn’t want you to go giving the Galaxy Rangers a bad name or nothing.” 

A certain, naively hopeful part of you sinks at that. You knew how he’d treated you before, of course, but that was a few years in the past now … “Is that really all you see me as? A little girl?” 

“And what pray tell am I supposed to see you as if not that?” 

“I’m not a kid, for starters.” 

“Tch. I can see that. That cute lil’ dress you got on isn’t gonna’ make me forget about the first time I ran into ya’ though. You weren’t no better than a fool headed little brat trying to shoot yer daddy’s gun out in that field.” 

You warm slightly at that, completely ignoring everything else he’d said in favor of focusing on the important bit. “You really think my dress is cute?” 

“Bah! Enough of this. I ain’t got time for it.” 

Turning on his heel, Boothill decisively starts to make his way further down the road on a straight course for the looming facade of the hotel up ahead. And you just push into motion to trot right along after him, having to work your legs double time to keep pace with his long strides. 

It takes him a prolonged beat to realize you’re following him and when he does, he snaps his head in your direction with a low growl of warning. “What do you think you’re doing, girl? I said I ain’t got time for it!” 

“I just wanted to catch up, that’s all.”

“Catch up!” He echoes you loudly enough to make some of the passersby glance over with varying degrees of confused and indignant looks. “What is there even to catch up on, huh? I’ve just been putting bullet holes in bad guys for the last some odd years and I reckon you’ve been doing the same since you’re still standing here. Can’t you see I’m busy?” 

The two of you reach the sloping stairs at that point and start to make your way up together. It does not escape your notice that he seems to be far too focused on chiding you to give his purposeful strides any further thought and he was likely just retracing the same path he’d taken before. It was probably best to keep him talking then. 

“Aren’t you even the least bit curious about me? After all, you did take the time to teach me how to handle a gun. I’d think you’d be more interested to know how that’s panned out in the long run. I promise I’m a much better shot now.” 

Boothill lifts a dark brow at the playful lilt in your voice, allowing a sharp toothed grin to tug at his mouth now. “Is that so? You must think you’re something real slick if you’re trying to brag. Think you’re big enough to beat me in a quick draw, little missy?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of taking you on in this lifetime.” You murmur, smiling to yourself when he beats you to one of the front entrance doors by a single step so he can yank it open to grant you entry. Evidently his gruff manner of a chivalrous gunslinger was so deeply ingrained in his subconscious that he doesn’t even give it a second thought now and you certainly weren’t going to question it. 

Slipping into the hotel lobby, he comes in after you with a big, boisterous laugh, his boot spurs rattling with each step. “Well, at least you understand the pecking order. You’re still a few decades too early to go up against me and hope to win, but don’t let that discourage ya’. You must be good enough to have survived this long.” 

“It’s really only thanks to you, Mr. Boothill. I had no idea what I was doing until you came along!” 

“Aww, shucks. Stop it, darling. You’ll have this old dog blushing here in a minute if you keep that up.” 

You wonder if cyborgs that are more machine than man could actually blush as you totter along next to him. Through the lobby, up an elevator, into one of many hotel lounge bars and then up another set of stairs until you find yourself wandering down a long corridor together. He still hasn’t quite figured out your angle while you keep layering compliments and feeding just enough of a line to keep him talking about something or another to distract him. It clearly works too, and Boothill doesn’t even hesitate to unlock his room's door nor does he seem to stop long enough to realize you’re slipping inside with him, right on his heels and just as unobtrusive as any shadow. 

His gruff laughter dying off to a slow, drawling chuckle, the Galaxy Ranger turns towards the little coffee table just inside the spacious room and moves to unholster his pistol so he could set it down. But he freezes halfway through the motion as if suddenly realizing he hadn’t made the trip up here alone. For a harrowing stretch of moments he doesn’t move so much as a finger before all at once rounding on you with an aggressive bark

“You! What do you think you’re - -“

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Mr. Boothill.” You tell him sweetly, batting your lashes for extra effect. “You let me in here, remember?” 

“Like hell I did! I never gave you an invitation to come sashaying in here, you little - -“

Quickly ducking under his reaching hand, you dance back to keep at least an arms length between you and him, giggling the whole time. “Hey, don’t be mean to me! I’m your precious junior, aren’t I?” 

“Muddle-fudger!” 

The next handful of seconds feel like they go by in a torturous, slow motion blur. 

You’d underestimated the full scope of his reach and now that he knows you’re playing games with him, he doesn’t hold back. 

His hand strikes out at you like a snapping serpent, full force and quicker than you can conceivably react. You were good, all things considered, but not quite as good as him. 

Your neck is suddenly caught between the cool, pinching metal of his bionic fingers, his palm slamming into your throat hard enough to make you gag. 

Winded and startled, Boothill drags you stumbling towards the table where he shoves you back against it, half picking you up by the neck to get you on top of the shuddering surface. 

Then he’s slamming you down to lay flat out, the force of the impact dislodging a disgruntled sound from your aching chest. 

And he finally leans over you, pinning you there with his hand locked against your throat so he can shove the barrel of his gun right in your face again. 

It’s over in the time it takes you to blink, leaving you dazed and panting as you stare up along the dark iron muzzle to look into his face. You’re not the least bit surprised to find he isn’t even breathing any harder after all of that and you let out a threadbare, groaning laugh, unable to help yourself even when you were staring death right in the eyes. 

“What is so funny, huh?” He dangerously snarls, nudging his pistol at you for emphasis. “Fork me, I don’t remember you being crazy but it looks like you knocked a few screws loose somewhere along the way. Are you looking for me to remedy that for you?” 

His thumb curls up at that to pointedly flick the safety off with a click that sounds deafening from this close up. 

You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stopper the moan that tries to rattle its way up your constricting throat, carefully shifting against him to feel the solid weight of his narrow hips between your legs. Although pissing him off hadn’t exactly been your goal when you’d first approached him, this was still very much turning out as you’d hoped it would. 

“I’m afraid it’s not my head that needs fixing, Mr. Boothill.” 

A genuinely perplexed look crosses his face at that. “Son of a nice — what the hell are you even saying, you little brat? You don’t make a lick of sense, you know that?” 

Drawing a slow breath to steady yourself, you cautiously bring your hand up to grasp at the metal wrist pinning your neck down. That he allows it instead of pumping you full of lead right then and there seems as good a sign as any to keep going, so you do. 

“Do you want the truth?” 

“If you value your life, you’d better start talking quick.” 

“It’s you, Mr. Boothill. You’re what’s wrong with me. And it’s not my head that’s the problem. It’s down here.” Stiffly, you roll your hips upward to deliberately grind your cunt against the front of him. It’s hard to say if he can feel anything at all with so much of his body being metal, but he sees the shuddering motion and trails his attention down to the spot where he’s standing between your legs. 

His mouth drops open to reveal that razor sharp row of teeth again, gun hand wavering slightly in your face. “Huh?” 

“Do you remember when you were teaching me how to track and take down bad guys? I thought you were so cool, Mr. Boothill … I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all this time either. I was hoping I’d run into you again someday even if the chances were slim to none, so when I saw you on the street it felt a little bit like fate.” 

“Wha — fate? Girl, have you lost your gosh darned mind? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in possession of a flesh and blood body. What the fudge do you expect me to do with you?” Irritably clicking tongue, he angles his pistol skyward in a smooth, well practiced motion and eases back just enough to pin you with a hard look. “Maybe if you’d caught me before I had to sell my soul to the reaper then we could have talked, but I’ve got too much to do to be messing around with you like that. I ain’t got nothing for you I’m afraid.” 

You see the grim resignation in his expression for what it is, understanding that he was going to pull away from you before he actually moves to do it. He only makes it so far as letting up on your neck though before you manage to rouse yourself enough to bring your legs up and wrap them around his deceptively dainty waist to lock him there. 

Stiffening slightly, Boothill glances down at the lurid spread of your thighs, soft and form fitted to the sharp contours of his hips. Your dress had ridden up in all the excitement and now seemed dangerously close to flashing your lacy underwear at him but not quite yet. All it would take is a simple nudge of your hand though, and you hold the breath in your lungs as you watch him mentally process through that fact. 

“You little hussy - -“ 

“Please, Mr. Boothill.” You beg, tightening your legs around him. “I know this probably isn't what you would have had in mind otherwise but … there is something you could give me. An extension of you that would make me just as happy as anything else would.” 

He seems to go still for the stretch of a single heartbeat, and then another when he slowly brings his shuttered gaze up to look you in the face again. You’re not entirely sure what’s going through his head in that moment, but he seems less angry with you now and a bit more interested in what you had to say. 

Finally, he almost thoughtfully tips his head to one side. “What do you mean?” 

You send the pistol in his hand a pointed glance, making him suck in a stilted breath. Evidently he’d never thought about it or truly considered this as an option before, or maybe he simply hadn’t thought anyone would ever be fool enough to want that. But for better or worse, as a Galaxy Range or perhaps as a follower of Lan’s hunt, you weren’t scared of a little risk to go with the pleasure. 

“You’re fudgin’ serious.” He murmurs, sounding equal parts impressed and appropriately cowed. 

A brief laugh huffs out of him as he shakes his head, and you slowly reach one of your hands down to just pinch at the front of your dress so you can tug it up. “I’ve been thinking about this since the day we parted ways, Mr. Boothill. I always knew your body wasn’t whole anymore so I guess I just kind of naturally started thinking about potential substitutes.” 

“And now here you are.” 

You smile at that. “Yes, here I am. Offering myself to you, if you’ll have me.” 

You feel the first cool waft of air against your silk and lace panties then, shuddering ever so softly as you inch the fabric higher still to give him a good look at you. Running into him like this had been the very definition of an unexpected encounter so you weren’t wearing anything overly sexy or revealing, but they were still cute. They also showed off the pudgy seam of your cunt where the material was lightly moulded to you, thanks to the damp slick starting to gather along the crease as much as from the nudge of his pelvis when he’d pinned you down. 

He just stares at you for an uncertain beat though, looking at your pussy with a clear note of wanting reflected in his one visible eye but quickly concealed with a quiet scoff. Turning his head to focus on something else, he raises his gun to thumb the safety back on before somewhat warily bringing it down to waist level where he hesitates. 

“I could really hurt you doing something like this, darling.” 

“You won’t. I trust you.”

Your breath is coming a little quicker now, sped up by the onset of anticipation and quick mounting excitement. He was tempted, that much was obvious. Either because the lack of a working, fleshy cock made encounters like this unnecessary and redundant for him, an exceedingly rare indulgence he didn’t often have a chance to participate in anymore, or perhaps it was simply because he was just as much of a thrill seeker as you were. Maybe even some deadly combination of the two. 

But you could tell in his confident, hot headed swagger as much as his face, the only part of his original body that was still left, that he was not actually the old dog he sometimes fashioned himself to be. He’d likely been approaching his mid twenties when he underwent the full transition to a bionic body and was in truth only a few years older than you. That he’d chosen this path over keeping his cock, something most men centered their whole identity around, spoke volumes of his true nature.

That is what had stuck with you all this time and what kept you awake on many a lonely night. There was something so uniquely charming about him in a rugged, old west kind of way that you couldn’t help but want him as you do. 

So you slowly inch your legs further apart, letting them settle into a wide spread that leaves your pantied cunt vulnerable and plainly offered up to him. Boothill’s gaze wanders down to regard you at the shift, his yearning for the warmth of your body settling across his face in a pained grimace. There was very likely some part of him that missed his old skin and you were all too happy to give him the chance to feel even a small fraction of what it was like to be human again. 

“Right here.” You prod, fingers slipping back down to just feel over the apex of your mound. 

Listlessly rousing himself, Boothill lifts his gun to nudge it into the space between your thighs where he lightly runs the cool metal barrel over your underwear. It’s a featherlight and fleeting sensation, but so monumentally heavy in its implication that your chest hitches with a little gasp. 

He seems to settle into the idea quickly enough at the threadbare whimper you let out and he presses the hard contour into you a bit more firmly to trace over the outline of your labia. You draw in a faintly shuddering breath in an attempt to steady yourself somewhat as your hips twitch up into the sensation, encouraging him on. 

“If I would have known this was the kind of hairbrained stunt you were going to pull later on,” He drawls in a gruff voice. “I never would have gone out of my way to help you out back then. You’re nothing but fudging trouble, girl.” 

“I only learned from the best.” 

That earns you a quiet, scoffing laugh, but Boothill keeps the motion of his gun steady and light even when you roll your cunt against it in search of more of that gratifying pressure. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling unbearably antsy like this when you've thought of and fantasized about this exact moment too many times to count, so you reach down a little further to catch the side of your panties with a finger. 

Slowly pulling it to the side for him, you carefully watch Boothill’s face to see the mild flash of surprise that crosses his expression. It’s gone in an instant though, replaced by a hungry, masculine edge as he peers down at the invitingly soft seam of your body, the vaguely damp curls that frame the tight, warm clutch where he would have happily buried himself in a past life. That’s not feasible now though, and he makes do with simply inching his pistol closer to just barely touch cold iron to your labia. 

Your reaction is physical as much as it is mental, sharply pulling in a breath at the firm nudge against the most tender part of you. His gun is hard and unrelenting, something that registers in your mind as innately dangerous despite the exceedingly gentle way he touches you with it. Caressing over creases and folds with a fleshy drag to part the lips and expose more of your cunt to his voracious sights. 

“Well I’ll be darned. You’re already getting wetter than a cucumber in a women’s prison, you little trollop.” 

A rattling sound of confusion slips out of you at that but you’re a little too focused on what he’s doing to you to focus on his strange turns of phrase right now. 

Shuddering faintly, you push up on your elbow so you can glance down and get a better view of the tarnished gold barrel prodding at you. The simple visual alone is so much better than you could have envisioned it would be, especially when he was standing over you like this in reality and not in your dreams. A quiet, needy mewl slips out of you then as you redirect the fingers between your legs inward to pull your labia open for him. 

Boothill issues a low whistle into the static charged air, directing the pistol upward to tease over your clit which weakly clings to the iron muzzle. The resulting meaty jostle makes you seethe and eagerly jut your hips up in search of more, feeling very nearly delirious now with the potent rush of arousal. You already felt like you were going to cum but you didn’t want it to be over just yet. 

“Please.” You rattle, starting to fidget on top of the table. “I want you, Mr. Boothill.” 

“Well, you can want it all you want but that don’t mean I’m gonna’ give it to ya’.” 

He starts to pull back then, pistol sliding away from your cunt, and you noise a frantic sound of confusion at him. 

That’s about all you manage before he’s suddenly leaning over you with a decisive motion, his open hand bracing on the table next to you while his narrow waist slots into the squeeze of your inner thighs again. You full on tremble at the sudden proximity of him as much as the not so subtle push of his front against your pussy. He’s just as hard and unrelenting, and cool to the touch as his gun is, but that doesn’t deter you half as much as it excites you. 

You feel wild and frenzied now, half crazed with the fast pumping sear of adrenaline working through your system as you tip your head back to look up at him. There’s a grumpy frown tugging at his mouth, grudging acceptance written across his face, and you shudder fiercely when he brings the pistol up to draw it across your lips to let you taste yourself on the barrel. 

“Open up that pretty little mouth of yours, darling.”

Unhesitatingly, you do exactly that, tongue flicking out to trace a suggestive line over the muzzle. Your mouth is immediately overwhelmed with the taste of oil, bitter residue and such a blinding, overwhelming sense of danger that your eyes immediately start to roll back in your head. You felt like you were moments away from cumming completely untouched, so worked up and excited that your pussy involuntarily clenches tight around nothing. 

It makes your head spin alarmingly fast and you don’t even think to fight it when he angles the gun to slip it past your open lips and just wedge the end of the barrel between your teeth. Groaning a delirious sound around the intrusion, you flex your mouth to find a comfortable position but it’s no use. It’s too wide and sharply edged for your jaw, and copious sheets of drool quickly begin to pool in the back of your throat while you choke on the cold, bitter taste. 

Rumbling a low sound that is suspiciously reminiscent of a pleasured groan, Boothill tentatively rolls his metal hips into you, grinding himself against your cunt to make you spasm on top of the table. With your mouth mercilessly wedged open like this all you can do is plaintively mewl and groan increasingly strained noises while he finds a rhythm to settle into. And it just makes your pussy impotently throb, the pressure of his bionic waist pushing against you so exquisite it just serves to wind you up even tighter until you’re all but vibrating underneath him. 

“Holy Wubbaboo.” He breathes out, awed and a little taken aback as he starts to work his hips faster. Harder. Driving the front of his body against you vigorously enough now that your tits begin to shift under your clothes. “Wasn’t thinking you’d actually like this so darned much. You really are out of your mind.” 

Even though he says that he doesn’t stop fucking into you much the way he would have with a cock, the almost hypnotic pace coupled with the constant application of pressure on your cunt quickly making you slip into a dreamy haze. You were soaked and only getting wetter, and likely leaving sticky slick all over the front of his skin tight pants. But that doesn’t seem to deter him in the slightest, his breathy grunts of effort mingling with the tremor of your muffled groans. 

And as the seconds bleed into minutes, the powerful flex of his hips driving into you soon starts up a tiny, sticky wet click where your drooling cunt was clinging to him. It’s just as if he was really fucking you and sound makes you positively writhe in place, so turned on and desperate to be touched that you bring your hands up to blindly fumble with the top of your dress. Your tits spill out with a fleshy bounce and Boothill mutters a particularly colorful curse under his breath when you latch onto them, needily tugging at your own nipples. 

Your jaw hurts from having it wedged open for so long but you barely even notice it now, or the bubbling threads of spit that start to run down your cheeks as he shifts the gun to sedately nudge it towards the back of your throat. Even when you uncontrollably shake and judder there on the table, back bowing into a dramatic arch at the first, pulsing onset of your orgasm, he just follows you with his hand to keep your lips stretched uncomfortably wide around the barrel. 

That’s how you finally cum, wailing an incomprehensibly shrill sound that’s almost entirely smothered by the pistol, fingers frantically pulling at your teats. Your pussy almost hurts from all the hard, unrelenting pressure of his metal frame but release still registers as a great relief somewhere in the back of your cotton stuffed head which bonelessly lolls back in a stupor while you pitifully twitch through the spasms. 

It’s over much too fast, just as you’d known it would be when you realized how quickly you were climbing that peak, and a deeply frazzled sound slips out of you when he at last moves to ease the gun out of your mouth. Left raggedly panting and trying to swallow down the lingering bitter taste of iron, you simply lie there while he straightens up to stand over you. The fact he does not immediately move from his spot between your legs catches your attention only in so much as a dreamy, far away thought, but you don’t quite have the power to act on it or even speak about it. 

And then his hand comes up to unexpectedly slip under your chin, forcing your face back around to make you look at him. For a long moment the two of you just stare at one another, you trying to steady your breathing while he just seems to thoughtfully study you with a little wrinkle of deliberation forming between his knitted brows. 

Finally, Boothill clicks his tongue and readjusts his grip to hold along your jaw so he can keep you still when he leans down to hover just short of your nose. “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself fudging killed yet if this is how you get your rocks off.” 

“Only when it comes to you.” You murmur back, smiling a pleased, self satisfied grin up at him. There was no denying you felt incredibly good on a physical level, yes, but even more than that … the fact he’d neither sent you away or shot you dead for the insult makes your chest feel helium light. Oh, but you could have stayed here with him for a lifetime just like this. 

“Well, darling. I’ll admit, you’ve managed to pique my interest. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep you alive, especially with the way you like to carry on, but it might still be fun for a while. Whaddya’ say? Want to tag along with me again for a while?” 

As if you had to even think about your answer.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (AND x Constantine😜) Imagine WIP Part 9

Here we go my lovelies! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @tammykelly @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog

Wick could have been an asshole about buying a brand new kitchen, sundries included–but instead he merely shrugs off Constantine's hostile question. "Seemed like the least I could do."

Constantine glares, but lets it go, begrudgingly sitting down to a delectable meal cooked by the man he knows, deep down, that you've never been able to forget. 

At Tex's midday administering of magical medicine, he takes your hand after you finish, refusing to let go. "Set with me a while, Rattlesnake." He pats the couch, on which there is no room unless you were to sit in his lap–undoubtedly his hope.

With a sigh and a knowing smirk you settle back in your chair. Your eyes are drawn to the burn upon his chest. He will carry that mark for the rest of his life, even if the magic is lifted.

You think on what Papa Midnite said to Constantine. "Take some big feeling..."

It kind of floors you, to think of the energy it took for Constantine to conjure that working out of thin air.

For you.

You told him a little bit about the boys. How they hurt you–and, how they saved your life. How you loved them, and how they destroyed you in their abandonment. No matter how you framed it, Constantine blamed them for the bullet wound forever seared in your side.

However, it wasn’t so simple as that. 

"Whacha thinking, baby girl?"

You just shake your head with a tired smile. "Nothing important."

"Hmm. You gonna make me guess? Alright. You're thinkin'...bout that time in Mexico it was just you an me and the stars, out by the pool in our birthday suits."

You snort–quite against your will, it turns into a giggle. 

"No..."

"Uh huh. You’re missin' my wicked tongue up between your thighs. I know that look."

"That's enough of that," you say, trying to stand. But he has your hand, and he tugs you so that you fall down to sit on the edge of the couch–and half on him. Your faces hover just centimeters away. You watch with horror a he tries to lean in, capitalizing on the opportunity. By the skin of your teeth, your heart in your throat, you just barely manage to turn your head.

"Didn't you miss me, rattlesnake?" he asks, his deep voice all sultry and low just wrecking you to the bone.

You dare reach up to caress his cheek with the blade of your thumb. "Of course I did. But there’s no going back, Tex. Maybe...that time is behind us." Just saying it hurts like a knife between the ribs, but you go on, “Maybe you and John did the right thing, letting me go.”

He just narrows his dark eyes at hearing that. You hate the way it gives you such a thrill, to the base of your spine, and lower still. “I thought you were mad about that? Hell, I’m still mad about that. I miss you so much I can hardly think straight. There’s just…” He frowns while he says it, but you know it’s just because he’d literally rather take a bullet than talk about his feelings. His grip on your hand tightens; he glares down at your silver rings like they owe him money.  “There ain’t no point to anything, when you’re gone. Do you know what I mean?”

You close your eyes; for a moment you feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, because you know exactly what he means. You lived it for months after they booted you, drifting from country to country, an empty husk of a woman, a gaping black hole where your heart used to be. Only after moving to LA, thinking about going back to school, and meeting Constantine, did your life start to feel like it had some meaning again. 

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” you answer quietly. “But how did you think this would go? You’d knock on my door, and I’d just uproot my whole life for you again?”

“Maybe?” The confusion on his handsome face is almost cute. You realize he really did think it would be that easy, and you snort, looking away to a framed Tibetan Thangka painting on the wall. This man. As ever, you’re torn between kissing him and killing him. You have to keep reminding yourself that the former option is not even on the table. 

“At least give me some credit. I coulda come in with guns blazin' but instead I brought flowers."

“You want credit?”

“Yeah. I’m practically a changed man. And I wouldn’t mind an apology from Wizard Boy either.”

"You've got to be kidding me." The pair on this man never ceases to amaze you.

"We were just having a little bit of friendly fisticuffs, but he fucked me up pretty good. That’s called unnecessary escalation.”

He would know. 

"Spare me the macho bullshit. There’s no such thing as friendly fisticuffs. You were going to hurt my boyfriend, and you absolutely deserved what he gave you. You’re lucky he got Midnite to lift it."

Only a beat later do you realize you called Constantine your boyfriend within earshot of everyone, which you never do, because you both hate labels and the word just seems too high school for what you actually are to each other–but there’s no going back now. 

“But–”

At last, at last, you are in a position where you don’t have to swallow his gaslighting. “No buts. You can behave yourself, Tex, or you can go. I mean it.” 

Maybe drawn by the sound of your raised voice, Constantine chooses that moment to intervene, appearing at the foot of the couch with a magnificent frown. 

“Well well, if it ain’t The Boy Who Lived.”

You know he’s just making yet another Harry Potter reference, but considering Constantine’s history, this nickname makes you flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake on your part, but you bristle. “Don’t call him that.”

Constantine, however, betrays nothing, just crossing his arms with that blandly judgy expression. “It’s alright, y/n. He loves childrens’ books–a man has to stick to his reading level.” You don't feel like arguing about the complexity of the later books, so you let the arrow fly.

You lift an eyebrow, side-eyeing Tex. “You do know an awful lot about Harry Potter for a grown ass man your age.”

For possibly the first time ever Tex actually looks sheepish. “Had to read something while I was in the shit.”

Tex never really told you much about his tour of duty in the Middle East. Bradford had intimated that it didn’t end well–but you weren’t exactly keen to take everything that asshole had said with any sort of seriousness. The thought of him holed up in a mud hut reading about Hogwarts kind of pulls at your heartstrings for some ridiculous reason. 

“So what you want, Wizard Boy?” demands Tex, insouciantly refusing to let go of your hand, despite you tugging on it.

“I was going to check your chakras for malevolence, but I'm having second thoughts now.”

“Sounds illegal in five states.”

Constantine snorts. “You want me to double check Midnite's handiwork or not? If there's a trace of darkness left it could spread– and you'll be fucked all over again.”

“Not the way I like, I'm guessin’.”

“Probably not. But then again, you seemed to like Desdemona at the club. You want an introduction?” Constantine has a sly look on his handsome face as he asks this. It must be the succubus you'd run off– the thought of Tex in contact with her again makes you vibrate with jealousy. It is sharp, and fierce, and utterly fucking irrational.

You should encourage Tex to find someone else.

Your heart just doesn't agree.

“I'll…leave you two to it,” you say, reluctantly standing to pull away out of Tex's grip.

Only belatedly, after you've retreated to your room, do you realize that maybe Constantine interrupted your tête a tête with Tex for his sake, rather than yours.

***

John Wick whips you all up a beautiful dinner of sauteed meat and vegetables, complimented with a nice bottle of dry red wine that you're sure did not come from Trader Joe's. You play his sous chef, chopping up veggies, and it almost feels like old times in the kitchen, although he never would have given you access to a big sharp knife before. As though you ever would have had the nerve to stab him. 

Tex was another matter.

At first you all sit down to share a semi-awkward meal, peppered with halting silences–until the second bottle of wine comes out, and then things flow more smoothly. It starts with Constantine cracking a joke at Tex's expense, which is surprisingly backed by Wick with a witty aside. Tex responds good naturedly, for once, and you just sit back and watch with a smile, a warm glow in your chest that feels too close to bliss to possibly last.

You help Wick with the dishes, drying as he washes because your dish rack is tiny. “You look tired, sweetheart,” he says after the last plate, bending down to kiss your forehead. You forget. You fucking forget that there are two other people there, one of whom is your current lover, and out of longing and pure habit you tilt your head back for the second staggeringly sweet kiss on your lips that always followed. 

Only a long beat later do you realize what you've done, with Wick's shining dark eyes looking down on you, missing nothing. You gasp like a scandalized school girl, taking a small step back. “You're right,” you agree. “I am tired. Good night, everyone.” You're such a coward you can't even lift your head to look at any of them, though you can feel their eyes upon you as you scurry away.

Once in the sanctuary of your room you collapse on the bed, clutching the coverlet in your claws for hands, so embarrassed by your slip that you could die. You know that Constantine loves you, even if he’s never outright said it, and honestly probably never will–and this is how you repay him. 

You really are a piece of work.

***

After you retreat, a silence falls over the kitchen, the three formidable men eyeing each other like wolves amidst a power struggle, trying to decide who is the weakest link and who is alpha. It’s Constantine who stands without a word, fetching his green glass bottle of Ardbeg single-malt scotch and setting it down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Then he produces three glasses–none matching–and pours out a finger for each. 

“Gentlemen.” He looks between the two assassins seated at his table, a part of him flabbergasted as to how he’d even ended up in this situation. Before he met you, if someone told him someday he would find a woman he loved more than the air he breathed, he would have laughed them out of the room. 

Not now. 

How the mighty are brought low, and pride goeth before a fall, and all that proverbial biblical bullshit that is old as time and yet somehow still applies. Despite all our advances, humans are still essentially the same animal we were when we first left the cave and started walking upright–or when God created Adam out of dirt, whichever you find more believable.  

“I believe we find ourselves at an impasse.”

“How you figure?” asks Tex, knocking back his drink and helping himself to another. 

“Does being in love with the same woman ring a bell?”

Wick smirks, watching the exchange between the two, sipping his scotch sparingly. He does not contradict Constantine’s assessment, but in his succinct way he drives home the finer point. “More importantly, that woman is in love with all of us.”

The thought pulls something like a growl from deep in Constantine’s chest, but in the end he acknowledges, “Exactly.”

Tex smirks, leaning on his elbows. “Don’t be sore, Wizard Boy. Be grateful we broke her in for you.”

Constantine seems to count to ten under his breath, restraining himself from unleashing a curse on this fucking cowboy again. “You’re gonna have to give me pointers on how you manage not to murder him daily,” he says to Wick. 

“I only listen to about half of what he says,” Wick admits with a smirk, a humorous glitter in his dark eyes.

“Good to know. My point is, if I curse you both into the Seventh Circle, it would hurt her. Likewise, if you two were to dig me a shallow grave out in the desert. You hurt her enough the first time. Do you follow?”

Wick nods, grasping Constantine’s train of thought immediately. Tex, however, has to chew on it a little–maybe because he’d hoped, for once, to finally have this girl to himself. 

“You’re saying you don’t mind sharin’,” finally says Tex with a shit-eating grin, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, I mind,” Constantine is sure to clarify. “But it’s up to her, if she wants you or not. If she decides she wants you to go–I will make you go. If she wants you to stay…” He spreads his big hands, as though to say, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.  

Tex narrows his eyes, clearly debating if he should pick a fight over the make you go part, or take it as it sits on the table. “And how do you propose we let her know what we decided about this?”

Constantine snorts at that, draining his glass and standing from the table. “That’s your problem, Howdy Doody. Good night–and may the best man win.” The two assassins watch as John Constantine crosses to your bedroom, and practically shuts the door in their faces. 

***

You are drifting on the edge of sleep when Constantine crawls into bed with you. You smile as you feel the familiar pattern of the depression in the mattress, and moan with surprise as he covers your mouth with his. You taste the Ardbeg on his tongue, which explains some of his ardor, but not all. The fury of his kisses on your lips and neck pulls an involuntary moan from deep in your lungs, his big hands digging into the flesh of your thigh, pulling you on top of him. 

“John…?” Utterly star-struck, you blink down at him, disheveled in your pajama t-shirt and your hair a mess. He reaches up to cup your cheek, dwarfing your face in his large hand, studying you like there will be a test later. He opens his mouth like there’s something he wants to say to you, but he can’t quite get it out, the words stuck in his throat. 

You think you know what it is, and your heart warms for it, that tingling thrill filling your chest and spreading outwards. You’re not even mad, that he can’t say it, because you get him. This is not the week you’re going to push him out of his comfort zone, more than you already have. Most of LA would laugh to hear it, but John Constantine has been a veritable fucking saint the past couple of days, and you’re so grateful to him. 

“It’s ok,” you say softly, tracing the line of his square jaw. “I know.” 

He frowns, almost like he wants to argue, but in the end he just shakes his head and pulls you to him.

You want to apologize for almost kissing John Wick right in fucking front of him–but that sticks in your throat too. You guess you’re both just a little raw tonight.

He peels off your t-shirt greedily as he guides you down. Hungry lips and a teasing tongue find the sensitive tips of your breasts, making you squirm with longing above him. You know you’ve already soaked through the laughable barrier of your panties, and are probably leaving an unsightly stain on his nice (200 dollar, he likes to tell you with a smirk) white shirt–but if the Chinese laundry down the street can get out demon blood stains, what’s a little cum?

You let out a cry of longing as he releases your nipple with a pop; the ache between your thighs is already nearly unbearable, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against his lean torso. You shut your mouth as soon as you open it, conscious of the paper thin walls and the two dangerous men on the other side of them.

“You like that, baby?” he taunts, hooking his fingers in your panties to tug them down.

“You know I do,” you pant. 

“Then let me hear you,” he invites with a wicked smirk, shifting down so that you are nearly sitting on his face. You don’t know what was said out there, but you are starting to get the idea that John Constantine is up to something. But before you can even begin to think what to do about it, he pulls you forward with an undeniable grip on your thighs, and his tongue is laving up your slit.

“Fuck.”

This exclamation is not quiet, and neither are the ones after it. You practically shake the walls with your cries when you cum on his tongue, your body rendered into a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves. He does not grant you mercy, even when you beg him, and by the time he is done with you, you are halfway to your second orgasm.

“Do you want me baby?” he demands, panting from his champion cunnilingus league exertions as he undresses himself. There is a desperation in his tone you’ve never quite heard before, and you have a feeling he’s not just talking about sex.

“I need you,” you tell him, and you mean every word. It wins you every inch of his hard cock buried inside you, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning, as though there is no room for breath in your body when filled with his impressive manhood. He grips you hard enough to bruise, his face buried in the bend of your neck.

He drives himself inside of you, hips pumping with the fury of his need, but he’s prepared you for it. It’s all you can do just to hold on, to the bed, to him, letting him use you exactly the way he wants to, because you know the past couple of days have been anything but easy for him. 

When his thumb finds your clit you think you might die from the overwhelming sensation of it. “No,” you beg, somehow smiling through your exasperation. “Please. Mercy.”

He just pays you that impish curl of lips that always seriously makes you question which side he's playing for. “You can take it,” he informs you. “For me?” The way he pouts down at you while simultaneously rearranging your insides should be illegal.

“Fuck,” you swear again, and he grins down at you, knowing he’s got you in the bag. With your ankles around his ears he slows down for you, but still fills you to the absolute brim, working you in just the rhythm he knows you need with the tip of his too-clever thumb. There is a heart wrenching beauty in making love like this. The two of you have reached an understanding of each other's bodies, a point of familiarity in which you just know, and yet somehow each time is better than the last.

It isn't long before you cum on his cock with a ragged scream that you know there’s no way in hell the boys didn’t hear, yet you cannot stop it, you cannot care, because the man inside you has rendered you into a vessel for this mind-bending pleasure and in this moment, you belong completely to him. His hips snap against yours, and soon he follows with your greedy little cunt fluttering around him, spilling himself inside you with a loud groan.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You revel in the sticky warmth of his seed seeping between your thighs, his heart a furious drumbeat beneath your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all you can manage to wheeze against the warmth of his chest.

“Right initials,” he pants, pressing lips to your hair. “Wrong guy.”

Thinking you really might have lost your mind, you start to cackle, and you can’t stop until you literally can’t breathe. You do not even have the energy to clean up, falling asleep in the beautiful mess John made of you, and maybe it’s just you, but even in his sleep John Constantine seems to hold you more tightly than he ever has before.

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

😬

it's on? 😈😈😈

@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Are You Reckless or Not?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: A party you didn’t care to attend would lead to the best night of your life.

*gif is not mine

The party was in full swing, cheerful voices raised in celebration of your group’s arrival and acceptance. It was a nice thought and you appreciated the gesture, but after an hour in the company of privileged people who had never experienced the harsh reality of the world outside of their gates, you began to wish that was exactly where you were. 

You knew who you were out there, who you had adapted to be. No longer the weak dependent duckling that followed on the heels of protectors. You could take care of yourself. 

And the very reason for that sat with his back against a tree near the pond. 

You had missed him at the party, not really sure why when you knew he wouldn’t come. As you drew nearer, however, his intention to do just that was clear. He was clean; hair washed and his skin clear of blood and grime. He wore his vest over a fresh shirt and a pair of dark jeans that had noticeably been patched but still donned a considerably less number of holes. 

“Hey, Bowstrings. Whatcha doing out here?” Daryl looked up at you as you smoothed your hands down the back of your blue cocktail dress—thanks, Rosita—and sat beside him with your legs outstretched. You’d normally mimic his position: knees drawn up with forearms balanced across them. That night, it would definitely be considered unladylike, given that your attire was barely covering the entirety of your thighs. 

You could feel his eyes lingering on you as you soaked up the view. The pond was nothing special during the day. There were houses lining the other side, any flowers surrounding it sparse in number. At night, though. At night, with the moon shining on the surface of the water and the fireflies delicately dancing, it was beautiful. 

“Why ain’cha at the party?” He finally rasped. He had returned his gaze to the water. 

You shrugged. “Really just isn’t my scene. Why didn’t you come?” You countered, smiling at the sidelong glance he afforded you that clearly said seriously? You bumped his shoulder with yours and chuckled. “You obviously thought about going.”

“Mhm.” The archer plucked a blade of grass, rotating it between his fingers. 

“Why?” 

He looked at you, the surprised expression morphing into his usual indifference so quickly that you may have missed it had you not known him as well as you did. Clearing his throat and looking away as you narrowed your eyes, he mumbled an I dunno, blending the words into a series of sounds and syllables. 

“Oh yes you do.” You bumped his shoulder again and then again when he didn’t answer. “Come on, I tell you everything.”

Daryl scoffed and discarded the grass. “Didn’t ask to be your human diary.” To anyone else, he would have seemed annoyed but it was you. You knew he was simply being Daryl. You leaned to lay your head against his bicep, blinking up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Please.” 

“You’re a pest.” He bounced his shoulder, effectively shrugging you off. You continued to stare at him, watching smugly as he dropped his casual demeanor and sighed. “There’s a, um…a—a girl, woman. A woman.”

The jealousy that tapped on the door of your heart was pushed aside in favor of supporting the man that had somehow managed to become your best friend at the end of the world. “Oh? The great Daryl Dixon has a crush?”

“Ain’t twelve, Y/N.” He huffed. You chuckled. 

“What would you call it then?” His brow furrowed in thought but after a moment, he simply grunted. “That’s what I thought.” You forewent the satisfaction and swallowed hard. “Who is she?”

Daryl went rigid. No longer playful but absolutely invested in his potential happiness, you moved closer and placed your head on his shoulder. 

“You know,” you began with a deep breath, “I’d never judge you. You know I wouldn’t. I just want you to be happy, Daryl. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Your fingertips lightly brushed over his wrist, sliding down to lace your fingers through his. “You can tell me or not. It doesn’t matter. I’m here now and I’ll be here when you bag this girl because who could ever resist your southern charm?” He began to relax against you, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy huff of a laugh. 

“You’re so dense sometimes.” 

You sat up straight, not veering straight toward anger. You were confused. What exactly had you said that would make him refer to you as dense? “What the hell, Daryl?” He was staring at you, that unreadable expression you had always been able to decipher was actually successful. You had no idea what the man was thinking. “Is it someone I know?” You finally queried. His chin dipped slightly in a nod. 

You didn’t know anyone from Alexandria. So it was someone from your group. Sasha. Maybe Rosita. He had done a lot of tracking with Michonne. She fit the bill too. Capable and clever, beautiful but deadly. Maybe it was Carol. He’d told you once that Carol was his best friend and it “weren’t like that” with her. It had to be Michonne.

Smiling, you took a trembling breath. Daryl could read you like a book and had to know you were seconds away from tears but you pressed on. Maybe if he admitted it to you, actually speaking it out into the universe, he would gather the courage to admit it to her. “Who is it, Daryl?”

He didn’t move, staring at you with those blue eyes, the unfiltered light of the moon giving their color a hint of silver. His index finger bent to scratch against the side of his thumb, one of his automatic responses to an anxious situation. You waited him out but he never spoke. He just looked at you, his eyes piercing as if searching your very soul. 

Clearing your throat, you tilted your head. “Well? Are you gonna tell me or not?” You tried for a laugh but it came out as a weak noise that reeked of desperation. You were quick to pull yourself together and play it off with a smile. 

He remained unmoving aside from the finger scratching against his thumb. It was almost instinct to stop him, your fingers wrapping around the shorter digit to place a buffer between it and his finger. After a moment, you uncurled your fingers and pulled back your hand only for his to catch it, pull it back, and hold it against his knee. 

“Daryl?”

He smirked and looked back toward the pond, shaking his head. “Dense.”

Confusion wasn’t the word you would use to describe how you felt. Was there another term? One that meant your head had emptied of every viable thought to try and form any sort of hypothesis for his behavior?

“I don’t—” Your mouth snapped shut when he looked at you again, face stoic but eyes alight with emotion. His hand tightened around yours and you gasped. 

Daryl chuckled again. “Finally.” Your mouth was moving but no words, no sounds, were emerging. The archer smirked again and released your hand in favor of wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in against his side. 

You looked up at him, blinking, so incredibly lost. You weren’t beautiful like Rosita. You weren’t fearless like Sasha. You weren’t cunning like Michonne. You were just you. You tripped over your own feet. You always managed to overcook the squirrels. You were never able to keep quiet when he took you hunting. 

With your brain belittling you so loudly, you hardly noticed when he angled his head to gaze down at you. He gave you a gentle shake and muttered quit it. 

You sucked in a breath. “Why me?” 

“Why not you?” Was it just you or was he getting closer? Within seconds, he had hooked a finger beneath your chin, his breath warm against your lips. “This okay?” You heard him gulp, knew he was stepping out of his comfort zone. He was doing it for you. 

“More than.” You whispered, barely uttering the last word before his mouth slotted over yours. The kiss was clumsy, uncoordinated, and absolutely perfect. As his lips caressed your own, your eyes fluttered closed, the moon disappearing behind the clouds to leave only fireflies to be your lantern when you broke apart. Breathless, heart beating a tattoo into your ribs, you smiled and brought a hand to his cheek, your thumb rubbing over the stubble he kept there. 

His expression was soft, more open than you’d ever seen it. “S’always been you.” He proclaimed quietly, leaning back in for another kiss, that one more controlled but no less passionate.

As you melted into him, his gentle touches calmed your fears for the time being. With a manifold of fireflies and a soundtrack provided by the stereo from the party across the street, you allowed yourself that perfect moment. 

As surprising as it was, in a world of death and cruelty, you had managed to find something new and beautiful.

No. 

He had found you. 

[rosiestalez]

Do You Believe in Fate?

Remy LeBeau(Gambit) x M!reader

wc: 790

Summary: A young man takes a visit to an art exhibition not expecting to run into someone who he may never see again!

A/N: Hello, hello! i’m so sorry that this took so long, and i’m so sorry about how short it is. I am obsessed with the meet cute trope right now so that’s what you’re getting… i mean it (i’m sorry i’m being sarcastic)! I’m still trying to work on formatting and aesthetic of my page so thank you for your patience! Also, this is my last Gambit post until further notice! i’m still taking requests, but there’s already five and i want to work on our other faves!

Request by: @gambitsversion

Warnings: language, alcohol, meet cute!!

——————————————————————

Jazz music hummed, and the smell of Beignets, liquor, and smoke filled the air of New Orleans. Y/n makes his way into an art gallery nestled in between two historic buildings, the heat and humidity being left far behind. His eyes gazes upon the room, it’s small, but all the art was large and filled with personality he smiles looking at the beautiful art.

He begins to wander the exhibit taking in each art piece. His eyes lands on a large painting, it’s abstract. He looks at every purple, black, electric detail; he reads the pamphlet, but can’t seem to find the artist of this piece.

“It’s pretty, ain’t it?”, a voice speaks behind him.

Y/n turns his gaze from the painting meeting a pair of oddly black and red eyes. He’s smirking his back is up against the wall, nonchalant and confident. He’s brown leather coat draped over his broad shoulders, and his auburn hair put up, is slightly hued purple from the light in the room.

“I guess so”, he states curiously studying the man, “i’m not really into this.”

The man removed himself from the wall raising an eyebrow, “No? you don’t like it?”

He shrugs, “it feels a bit…chaotic, i don’t really get it.”

“Ah, i see”, he chuckles, “mon ami, sometimes chaos is the meaning”, he smiles.

“Yeah, i guess so”, he smiles back, “and do you happen to be the artist of this chaotic masterpiece?”, pointing his thumb behind him.

“Nah”, he shakes his head, “da name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau, but da people call me da Gambit”, he picks up a glass off a tray, “i like good art and liquor.”

He extends his hand to shake, “y/n”, he says; Remy shakes his hand with a firm grip. Remy smiles and my gosh it’s intoxicating, y/n can’t help, but blush.

“what brings ya over here?”, Remy asks taking a sip of his drink.

“I needed to get away.”

“Away from what?”

“y’know…life?”, he chuckles.

“Why NOLA then? You know it ain no escape”, Remy questions.

“It’s beautiful”, y/n smiles.

“Well, you’s a brave one for comin out here during hurricane season.”

Y/n’s heart flutters, his freckled cheeks growing warm as the conversation continues, “Are you from here?”

“Born and raised, cher”, he smiles.

“Well then I may need a tour guide tomorrow”, y/n bashfully smiles.

“Maybe cher, do ya believe in fate?”, Remy took a couple steps closer to Y/n. The world around him seems to slow down, his breath hitches at the realization of the lack of space.

He clears his throat, “never really thought of it”, his temperature rising, his heart is pounding, yet his thoughts are slow and steady.

“Damn, mon cher, i thought fate was the reason you were here in front of me right now”, he smirks. His eyes lingering on y/n’s face as if he was studying every feature, every freckle, and every imperfection. Y/n feels as though he could melt in Remy’s hands if he would allow it.

Y/n’a heart is racing, at the sudden flirtation from the stranger, “do you always flirt with strangers?”, he asks.

“only tha strangers I like”, he responds.

“Oh, I see”, y/n smirks, he was enamored by him. He was drawn to him, his aura, his eyes, everything, “for some reason, i feel as though you do this a lot, and they fall for it”, Remy just rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe so, but mon cher, right now it’s only you.”

Y/n is silent; he isn’t able to make sentences. It’s like Remy is hypnotizing him in this moment. He’s finally able to form some type of words Remy interrupts y/n’s thoughts.

“Ya know what, cher…give ol’ Remy a chance”, his voice is teasing, yet the tone is still serious, “then maybe you’ll understand where i’m coming from”, he smiles.

In a swift, smooth motion, Gambit slides the Ace of Hearts card into Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s skin for just a moment longer than necessary. Y/N looks down at the card, then back up at Gambit, who was already starting to walk away, casting a final, lingering glance over his shoulder.

“Think about it, cher,” Gambit calls reaching for the door. “Might just be the best gamble you ever take.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the gallery, heart racing and a smile tugging at his lips. He glances down at the Ace of Hearts in his hand, feeling the flutter of excitement that Gambit had left in his wake.

Maybe fate wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[wasteland-wrecker]

ily..... sorry if you've ever answered this but have you ever drawn modern au gage and toby? or do you have hcs?

Hey there! <3

I’m not a big au fan but… here we go! ✨

Thank you for asking, I have this big headcanon:

Gage is not so good in bed. He is probably a virgin, let me explain you why.

🔞🔞🔞

From what we know about his past and the way he talks I'm pretty sure he's never had s3x with anyone or at least no long-term, positive experience.

Lines like "…you wouldn’t want nothin to do with me, not with the fucked up life I’ve had” denotes he is AWARE of the cruelty of the world he lives in. He has seen shit his whole life. I don’t think he had the time to even think about s3x.

Or “I ain’t never done anything like this. Ain’t sure it’d work, you know?”

When you ask him about your relationship he says “… I don’t like talking about feelings and shit. We’re… we’re great, you know that”. Zero experience, come on.

This means he gets embarrassed and that he’s worried about other people’s opinions (which is quite strange for a wastelander and a raider) one of his lines is like “if I die killed by a bug, tell everyone I accidentally stomped on my gun and killed myself”. (Yeah, who cares???)

And, speaking of raiders, he’s lived his whole life as one of them and when he talks to you (a complete stranger!!) in private he calls them “fucking raiders” (you okay man?! Need to talk or something?!).

It seems clear that none of these raiders have ever made its way into his sensitive little heart. He’s faking, pretending to be something he’s truly not.

And I don’t think he’s ever had anything to do with settlers. I can’t even imagine him r4ping someone, from that point of view he has a strong integrity (at most he’ll piss on your corpse ✨)

No one has ever made him feel safe, he says that to you when he opens up. Gage must completely trust his partner to have s3x with him/her/them. He must be sure he won’t be betrayed or killed.

And his past makes it clear that he no longer trusts anyone, apart from himself.

I might also add that the fact that he doesn't take baths indicates a sort of disinterest in the subject.

Gage often complains during trips and it means that he worries about stuff (like rads, chems, alcohol, bad smells - yeah he does I can prove it).

Do you think someone so attentive to what surrounds him and the consequences of his actions wouldn’t care about sexual diseases and sleeping with just anyone? I’m sorry but I don't see it.

He surely m4sturbates often, I can agree with that. He has very indecent thoughts as well and he’s horny af. He probably likes it rough, yes. (He loves to read erotic books OF THIS I’M SURE 10000%) But don't come and tell me that he is a S3x Lord Master or something because I have an hard time believing that (surely with a good experience he can become one, but not when you first know him).

Last, but not least, let’s not forget the fact that his name’s GAGE and he wears a fuckin CAGE all the time (to keep people away from him). The end.

Alright uh, my hand slipped on this hc lol, let me know if you want more anon and I’ll answer you in another post 😭 (shorter I promise) or you can read this post

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 18

Chapter 17 Chapter 19

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 18: I ain’t sleeping with Hershel

Summary: The group is hopeless until they find the prison, now they try to build a new home. While which one of them have to deal with their own issues.

Warnings: swearing, outbursts, walker killing, blood, gore, nightmares, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of baby being possibly dead, misunderstanding, fights, reader can be a brat, insecurities, jealousy (nit the reason for insecurities), reader and Lori implying Daryl would substitute reader for Rick (that’s a joke). Minors do not interact. (I probably forgot something because this chapter have a lot of things happening)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 4,615

A/N: Not proofread. Not one of my best writing. This was a chapter I was expecting to write since I started, and I’m a little disappointed on how it came out. My summary also sucks.

It had been 8 months, 8 long months of survival on the road, finding shelter here and there but never for too long. You had found a house near a small road, the men and little specimen of man (Carl), went to the house to clean it of walkers. You preferred being in action, killing walkers and shit, but Lori had a enormous belly, soon she was going to give birth, so all care she could have was necessary, so you’d better stay behind and take care of her.

Hershel was trying to teach you how to deliver a baby, well you knew the basics, you had already helped many puppies and kittens born. Ok, it wasn’t the same thing, but… you had also told Hershel you didn’t know if you wanted to do this. She was your sister-in-law, medically speaking you shouldn’t perform any surgery on her. ‘If something happens to me, I need someone that’s going to be able to do so.’ He used to say, and you would always say the same ‘nothing is happening to you, I’m protecting you.’. To which he always replied he was too old, and you couldn’t protect him from that. Being responsible to act on big medical ‘events’ of the group still made you nervous and uncomfortable, you wish you had an actual doctor in the group so you didn’t need to be one of the docs and be put in the same level as Hershel, when you clearly wasn’t. You still doubted your abilities as a vet, which you studied to actually be one… how could you take care of humans? You knew it wasn’t like there was many doctors around, so you’d have to do.

You entered the house carrying all the things you’d need, it was a lot of things for people that didn’t have a place to live. There were days since all of you had a decent meal, everyone looked apathetic, as if life had been drawn from you. You gathered around what looked like a living room, silent… Daryl sat by your side, an owl at his hands, plucking it. You used to love owls, so beautiful and majestic, symbol of wisdom… but at this moment you couldn’t care less and was even proud your man had caught it.

You noticed Carl at the corner near Beth, he had a can of something in his hand and was opening it. Was it dog food? God, how did you end up like this? You’d eat it and wouldn’t complain. You’d be happy to have whatever in your stomach. Looking at that food, you remembered Luna and how you had missed her all those months… before you could go deep into your thoughts you got startled when Rick took the can from Carl’s hand and threw it to the other side of the room, making a resounding noise that echoed around the house.

What was his problem? That was food, regardless of what kind! You were ready to get up and tell him off, but Daryl grabbed your hand and motioned with his head for you to not do that. You deep breathed and started counting… until T. announced there were a large group of walkers coming and you need to flee as fast as you could.

At some point you stopped again to make some fire and cook the owl Daryl had killed. Owls were mostly made of feathers, there was little meat, but beggars can’t be choosers… so each of you got your small share of it.

“Let’s go hunt something.” Daryl told Rick. “The owl wasn’t even a starter.”

“I’m going with you.” I promptly said, but I already knew they would refuse my company, again. They often did it, and it was annoying.

“Stay with Lori, she might need you. Besides that you’re better trained than the others, I need your protection here.” Rick stated and you just rolled your eyes.

“You don’t even believe your own words.” You said, then you turned to the hunter. “Don’t take too long and bring something delicious, ok?”

“Yes ma’am! I’m at yer orders.” He kissed your temple before taking his crossbow and disappearing with Rick.

You stayed behind with the others against your will, you crossed your arms and observed the two men disappearing in the woods. Soon Lori, Carol and Maggie joined you. “Stop pouting, they just went hunting.” Maggie elbowed you playfully.

“Without me.” You stated. You got frustrated every time they left without you, especially Daryl. “They spend more time together than with me! It’s like they’re substituting me.”

“Seriously, Y/N/N? Are you jealous of them?” Carol asked with a smile of amusement.

“Rick can substitute you, but Daryl can’t…” Maggie affirmed. Rick couldn’t, he was substituting you… it was rare when he seek you to talk or advice.

“Rick, it’s true. But Daryl… I don’t know, Rick has a quite beautiful ass.” Lori joked, Rick and she were still not talking, but moments like this would bring her some sense of normalcy, just as if they were friends gossiping in the kitchen and there were no walkers around.

“Hey! I have a beautiful ass too.” You protested.

“Of course, you’re siblings.” Lori shrugged then she put one of her arms around your waist. “You worry too much, they’re men. They need this time away from us. Besides… I need you here, I feel better with my sis and the baby too.”

“Ugh… you always know the right words to convince me. Ok, let them be. I’d rather pass my time with my girls.” You told them and hugged Lori resting your hand on her belly.

“Or boy.” Lori completed, because you didn’t know the baby’s gender.

“Nah, I have a feeling it’s a baby girl. So, I prefer to pass my time with 4 of my favorite girls.” You said a grin on your face.

After a time, that felt like eternity, they came back with news that they found a place, a prison and you could stay there and make it your home. You just had to… take it back from the walkers.

You had to work together to take the yard. First you had to cut the fence so you could enter and after it you needed to close it again. That wasn’t the most difficult part, there was no walker in the corridors around the fence, but the yard…. It was full of them. Also, one of the gates was open and it needed to be closed otherwise you’d not be able to fight all of them. Rick wanted to close the gate while the rest of you distracted the walkers and covered him. The plan was perfectly executed and you could all clear the yard out of walkers.

It gave hope to all of you. If you could clean part by part, soon you’d have a place you could call home. A safe place to live. A place for Lori to have the baby, a little bit of the domestic life again. Later that day you were all reunited around the fire, eating the little hunt Daryl and Rick got earlier. Some chatted, Beth sang a beautiful song… Rick was near the fence that separated you from the walkers on the patio, it was safe, he could come to the fire, but he wouldn’t. You could go and try talking him into resting and relaxing near the bonfire, but you knew he wouldn’t listen to you. He never did. Not anymore.

Daryl was on top of a toppled bus, watching or something. Carol went there to take some food for him. They had developed a nice and kind friendship since the farm, you were glad he was getting close to everyone in the group. Even though you sometimes felt jealous, you just pushed this feeling to the coffins of your mind and didn’t think about it. You knew him, you trusted him. You knew Carol, she was your friend. Besides that you were also jealous of him and your brother, so this wasn’t something you had to take seriously.

Later that night, you were laying on a blanket close to the fire and in Daryl’s arms, and you couldn’t help but think about the future. “Do you think we’ll be able to make this our place?” You asked him, your hand playing with a thread from his poncho.

“Ya’re the positive one ‘ere. Don’t you think we’ll make this place our home?” He told you. You had changed during the last months, all of you. You and him, you that would always reassure him, not the opposite. You used to always see things on the bright side of it, but you found closure and lost it so many times already, that you didn’t know if you could be like that again.

“I dunno. It’s just… we’re looking for a place for so long that it all just seems unreal. It’s like tomorrow I’m opening the eyes and we’ll still be on the road, or maybe something will happen and we’ll need to leave.” You tried to explain what you were feeling, but that wasn’t even the start of it.

“We’ll be fine. We can do it. I know. We’re making it a home.” He told you, he didn’t even know if he believed in his own words, but he trusted Rick and he said it would work. Also, he’d do anything to take those worries from your mind.

You snuggled into him and the warmth of his body and his unique scent, even when you didn’t have a descent bath in ages, engulfed you in comfort. After some time of comfortable silence between you, you drifted to sleep letting the exhaustion take you.

The next day you needed to take the patio and try to clean one of the cell blocks. Rick, Daryl, T.Dog, Glenn, Maggie and you worked together on taking the patio while the others kept at the fence trying to distract them. You used your crossbow and knife, you also had a gun, but all of you would rather not use it, since you were low in ammo and of course it attracted many of the dead if you used it. Some police walkers gave you a hard time, but soon Maggie discovered how to kill them and it became easier for you. As soon as you finished, you entered Block C and killed the few remaining walkers that were still inside.

After, all of you started to enter the Block and settle in, bringing your belongings and cleaning what you could and the best way you were able to. While that the men started to carry the corpses from the block and from the patio so they could burn them and finish cleaning the place you already had. You chose a cell in the upper floor, you looked at it and could already see you and Daryl living there.

You let your belongings outside of it and started to clean. You shook the bedsheets to take away the dust and then arranged it all again. The bunk was rather narrow, but you two pretty much slept so into each other that it wouldn’t be a problem and you could arrange it in the future. For someone that the day before wasn’t so sure if you could make this place a home, you were very excited.

You heard some cries coming from some cells away from yours, you walked there and found Lori. Carol was squatting in front of her, trying to comfort the pregnant woman. “What if the baby is dead?” She cried. “I feel like there’s something wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong. You’re good, the baby is fine. Your belly is perfectly normal.” Carol reassured her.

“Yeah” you intervened, sitting by your sister-in-law side and caressing her back. “Don’t worry. I’m a doc, ain’t I? I’m saying it and you can trust me.” You weren’t sure of your words, you were not this confident about treating people, but you wanted to soothe Lori in some way. “Do you want me to take Rick?”

“No! Not him. I… bring Hershel, please.” She asked, Rick wouldn’t give her any comfort. He didn’t even hug or kiss her in months… what good could possibly do having him around right now?

“Ok. I’m gonna take Hershel.” Carol got up and left to find the old man.

When the doctor of the group arrived, you left to give them some privacy, even though you already knew her worries.

Later that day everyone that hadn’t claimed a cell yet, was claiming one and preparing to have a well deserved rest after such hard work. You approached Daryl, excited to tell him about the cell you had arranged for both of you, but you weren’t expecting his answer. “D., I cleaned that one for us. We just need to take our things there.” You said pointing to a cell further in the end of the corridor upstairs.

“I ain’t sleeping in a cage like a damn animal.” He was quick to answer, giving you his back and going to a place on the stairs where he’d placed a mattress and his things. He didn’t know his words had come so harsh, he didn’t even reflect about it before saying. His aversion was exclusively, because his brother had already been in jail, also being on jail was something that everybody where he came from expected from him, even though he had never been, not even because of bar fights or shit, and let’s say that the Dixons never ran from a good fight.

He had hit right at your feelings. You were taken aback by his harsh words, you weren’t expecting this. You were tired, the last months had been exhausting and for the first time in months you had a safe and rather decent place to rest. You turned your back and walked in the direction of the cell. When he turned back he saw you getting distant, with your back turned to him, he didn’t see the hurt you were feeling, but he was also with questions on his mind, why wasn’t it obvious to you that he didn’t want to sleep on a cell and neither alone? He had no reaction.

‘Maybe she needs some time alone’, he thought throwing himself at the mattress not even caring about taking off his boots.

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me’, that was what was in your insecure ass mind, everything was so good, so why couldn’t you just get over it.

You took your things from outside the cell and entered it, throwing you shoes anywhere and after jumping on the bed. This was the most comfortable bed you had had in months, but you felt there was no joy in it, if you weren’t sharing it… well at least he had his own mattress all alone somewhere. The exhaustion took your body and soon you drifted to sleep, but that didn’t mean it would be a good restorative night of sleep.

You were at the prison patio, the sky was cloudy and the air was sultry. Near the gates you saw a group of people, they were inside and had their back turned to you… but their silhouettes were so familiar… one of them wore a fisher hat and wasn’t very tall. “Dale? Is that you?” You asked, it just could be him, but how was it possible. Then they turned one by one…

Dale with his guts falling outside his stomach, a walker. Also, Amy, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia, Jimmy, Shane and Patricia. All of them walkers, even Amy, Jacqui, Dale and Shane that you knew there was no chance of being there. And then, contouring them, came a dog, a german Shepherd, your Luna and god… how you missed her! But she wasn’t her anymore, she had also become a walker version of herself. You didn’t even know if the animals could be affected, but you didn’t have time to care, because she ran in your direction and jumped on you.

You woke up sitting in the bed. You were sweating. A scream caught in your throat, unable to get out. That was better, you didn’t want to wake everybody up. One hand on your chest feeling a burning sensation you always woke up with when you had nightmares. The other hand on your mouth muffling your sobs. You were tempted about getting up and looking for Daryl’s arms, but you resisted the urge. He was the one that made you sleep alone. You weren’t thinking straight. It wasn’t that you never had nightmares sleeping with him, you still had them from time to time, but at least you were in his arms and felt protected. It didn’t let you sink in your intrusive thoughts.

After some time, you didn’t know how long after, you laid again in bed and tried to think about anything else else that wasn’t that nightmare. It would be good if you found the infirmary, you would complain if the library was still good and had good books, you’d love if you found some ammo…

You woke up with the sun touching your face, you felt as if you had been hit by a truck. Your body was painful and you were super sleepy. You put your shoes on, the gun in the holster, the knife on your waist and the crossbow across your body. You left the cell while you made your hair into a ponytail and walked to the stairs. Daryl was already up, he stopped everything when he saw you. You looked at him and remembered what you went through having to sleep by yourself. “Good morning.” You said, you were still a polite person after all, even angry at your boyfriend.

“ ‘morning pup.” He caught you when you passed by him, before you could finish descending the stairs. Both of his arms wrapped around you, he pulled your back against his chest and his face on your shoulder.

Ok. You were not understanding him at all. The day before he pushed you away, and now he’s all lovely to you. You inhaled, and delicately you took his hands from you and left his embrace and went down the stairs. He didn’t understand a single thing. You loved morning hugs, you needed them to start your day and he was there giving you that without caring if anyone would see and he would feel embarrassed, so why were you so cold?

You walked to the common area where most of the awake people were gathered, you didn’t have anything to eat, but it wasn’t any news. You saw Rick, wished him a good morning and hugged him. Ok, now Daryl was remembering every step he gave in the last months just so he knew exactly what he did wrong. “Your eyes are swollen, have you been crying?” Your brother asked, first time in a long time he noticed something about you.

“No, why would I? Just If I was too happy we have a decent bed to sleep after a long time.” You said, a tad bit of acid in your tone. Your brother knew better than pushing you, so he let it be. He looked at the archer, which he discovered to be a good friend after many months on the road, and Daryl’s eyes showed he was as clueless as him.

You soon start talking about going further in the prison and cleaning other places, finding new places and supplements. “ I’ll be very glad if we find the library!” You said getting a little bit excited just by thinking about having books to read it.

“Oh it would be fantastic!” Hershel agreed. “I haven’t found a single good book the whole time we were in the road.”

“Alright” Rick said after you finished talking about everything that you could find in the prison. “I think we can go.”

“Don’t go.” You heard Daryl by your side, a gentle hand on your upper arm.

“Why shouldn’t I, Dixon?” God, he was so screwed… now he knew he was the problem, you almost never called him Dixon, not even in a sweet playful manner. So he knew it.

“Ya don’t look good.” He tried again.

“Well, good thing I’m going to kill walkers and not to a fashion show.” You faked a sweet smile.

“Wha’s up with the attitude?” He asked, he himself already getting annoyed.

“Just, I’m tired of being left out. I’m no damsel in distress so you have to tell me all the time to stay behind. Also, I’m not staying to be ‘protected’ by a 12 year-old.” You finally took a breath between your words. “ ‘sides that you’re not my father, nor my husband to tell me what to do. Even if you were…”

“Are you two done?” Rick tried to intervene while everyone watched the discussion without understanding a single thing, just as lost as Daryl was.

“Shut up Rick, I’m not over.” Your brother’s eyes popped and he was ready to tell you off.

“Also, you are taking Hershel with you, an old man, but the idea of me going is so absurd! No offense Hershel, but you guys are taking our best doctor in a risky mission. And I should not go, because I don’t look good?!” You vomited facts all around that weren’t needed to be said, none of those people around you were the reason you were so pissed off. Maybe Rick, because he was always leaving you behind.

“Well, I ain’t sleeping with Hershel!” Daryl blurted out the sentence, losing his temper.

“Neither with me, apparently.” You retorted, and realization hit him.

“That’s why ya’re upset and causing an scene?” He threw at you.

“Upset? I was upset yesterday. Now, I’m angry.” You took a breath and just as if nothing had happened you told the others. “I’m waiting for you on the patio.”

You left and everyone stayed behind sharing looks and glances between them. Daryl grunted in frustration, god damn, he thought you wanted to be alone the day before, but in fact you probably understood he didn’t want to sleep with you.

“When you wanted relationship advices you should have asked Hershel, not me.” Rick patted his shoulder before leaving.

“Yeah, guess so.” Daryl mumbled under his breath.

“Son, you two need to communicate better.” Hershel said to him. “Also, be grateful you don’t sleep with me, I snore quite a bit.” The old man joked.

Daryl breathed one more time and looked around, his eyes landing on one of the bulletproof vests that you were able to find. He took it and his crossbow and left block C, joining you on the patio. He came in your direction holding the vest and you almost rolled your eyes.

“Hands up.” He said.

“I’m not wearing this shit. It’s heavy and I can hold myself well without it.” You said.

“Yes, you are if ya wanna go inside with us.” You laughed.

“And what are you going to do? Are you going to lock me up in a cell.” You teased.

“If ya continue to act like a fucking brat, yeah” he said. “Now put yer arms up. We’ll talk later. We suck at communication sometimes.”

“You two, stop it. We have work to do.” Rick told you, a finger pointed in your direction. “Watch duty for both of you tonight, and you better make up.”

You rolled your eyes and put your arms up, Daryl slid the vest through your arms and then adjusted it on your body. “Stay close, and dun do anything reckless, ‘kay? I ain’t protective ‘cause I think ya’re useless. It’s ‘cause…” ‘I love ya’, he completed in his mind. Why was it so easy to tell you while you were sleeping, but so difficult to say with you wide awake. “… I can’t lose ya.”

You really wanted to be mad at him, but you just couldn't. You almost broke when he back hugged you earlier, and now even if he called you a brat, and was even harsh, you just couldn’t when you saw his blue eyes soften on you. You had really been a brat, but who wouldn’t in your place? Rick retold all of you what you were supposed to do and reaffirmed you shouldn’t leave formation, and like this you entered the building.

It was very calm at first, no walking corpse on sight, but soon they started to appear, small groups of them, you killed one by one. You used the crossbow to stop them from coming closer, but when they did you’d use your knife. That was great until a group of them separated all of you. “fuck…” Where was everyone? You kept walking in the dark trying to avoid the walkers and killing them before they’d kill you.

You walked on your side trying to maintain your eyes everywhere until you knocked into something and almost panicked before discovering the something had arms and wrapped one around you and covered your mouth immediately so you didn’t scream. “Told ya to stay close.” Daryl whispered.

“I can guarantee, I didn’t separate from you on purpose.” You whispered as soon as he took his hand from your mouth.

You continued to walk together, till you reunited with the others and… the worst had happened. Hershel was bitten, god damnit! Couldn’t they just say no to the old man and have left behind? You were all cornered in a corridor when you found the cafeteria, without much thinking you all got inside and ran to Hershel’s aid.

You ripped the leg of his pants and looked at the bite. Fuck. Your doctor was bitten. You had to be the doctor. ‘Think fast! Think!’, you repeated it like a mantra inside your head, and then the idea hit you.

“A BELT! Someone give me a belt!” You commanded and Rick was fast to give you his. “I’m sorry Hershel, we have nothing to lose anymore, so I need to try this.”

You put the belt around his leg and restrained his blood from flowing. “Rick, you do it. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it in one.” Rick took his hatchet and did what he had to cutting off the bitten part of Hershel’s leg. The doctor got unconscious, Maggie was despaired and blood was everywhere. Suddenly you heard a sound coming from the very end of the cafeteria, most of you aimed your weapons in the direction of the sound just to be met by 5 strange faces and none of them belonging to a dead person.

“Holy shit!” Exclaimed a ginger man.

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14. Funeral of Innocence

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

18+ story, minors DNI

A/n: I apologize for the wait! I’m in an extremely busy season in my life and I’m doing my best to work in writing into my schedule. We’re getting very close to the end, so if you just stick with me a little while longer, I promise I’ll make it worth your while! Thanks again for all your support. ❤️

Content Warnings: mentions of death & grief, graphic violence, depictions and descriptions of injury and death, heavy drinking, fluffy dad Jake (I fuckin love dad Jake).

Word Count: 4.3k

Two Months Later

Jake sat on the worn-out couch, staring at the black TV screen as the heavy rain pounded against the roof of the trailer. It was the anniversary of Jaxon’s death, a day that seemed to drag the storm clouds with it every year. Even here in Nevada, where rain was a rarity, the gloom found him, like it was drawn to the darkness that lived in his heart on this day.

His thoughts were far away, lost in the memories of that night. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, his mind always wandered back to the moment that changed everything. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, like the wound had never truly healed.

His phone vibrated on the couch beside him, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. Ace’s name flashed across it, and for a moment, Jake considered letting it go to voicemail. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, especially not today. But on the last ring, he answered.

“Hey, Ace,” Jake’s voice was rough, the weight of the day pressing down on him.

“Hey, kid,” Ace’s voice came through the receiver, a rare softness in his tone. Ace knew what day it was; all the Barbarians did. They had all lost Jaxon that night, but Jake had lost more than a brother in arms—he had lost the closest thing to a real brother he’d ever have. “How ya holding up?”

Jake shrugged, even though he knew Ace couldn’t see him. “I’m alright, I guess.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the silence heavy with unsaid words. Ace wasn’t the type to offer comfort in the traditional sense, but he was always there, a steady presence in Jake’s life. They didn’t need to say much; they both knew the pain, the loss.

“I’ve been thinking about him a lot today,” Ace finally said, his voice low. “Hard not to, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Jake replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Me too. Every year, it’s like the wound gets ripped open again.”

Ace grunted, a sound that was part agreement, part frustration. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna fill that hole, kid. But you keep goin’, for him. That’s all we can do.”

Jake nodded, “yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

“No, it don’t,” Ace agreed, his voice tinged with a shared pain. After a brief pause, he added, “Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We all miss him.”

Jake clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to scoff. Sure, the other Barbarians missed Jax—he was a presence that no one could forget, both within the club and beyond. But no one felt the loss like Jake did. None of them carried the burden of knowing that his own father set the chain of events in motion. The thought alone made his blood boil.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Ace.”

Just then, Jake heard the soft, familiar sound of your footsteps as you approached from the back room. When he looked up, he saw you glowing, your damp hair cascading over your shoulders, still fresh from the shower. The sight of you, six months along, with your belly now a prominent, rounded bump sitting high on your midsection, filled him with a warmth he couldn't find anywhere else. You and that baby were the only light in his otherwise shadowed world. Seeing you like this, Jake finally understood why Ace had given you the nickname Sunshine.

He couldn’t help but grin as you came over to him, standing by his side. Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed the bump over the oversized t-shirt that nearly swallowed you whole.

“Promise me you won’t sit around and mope all day,” Ace's voice crackled through the phone, pulling Jake’s attention back. “Some of the guys and I are headin’ to the Tavern later. You should come.”

As you ran your fingers through his hair, Jake leaned into your touch, feeling the tension slowly ease from his body. The warmth of your hand was soothing, but it couldn’t fully extinguish the torment raging inside him.

“I’ll think about it,” Jake replied, knowing full well he had no intention of going. The thought of being around the guys, pretending everything was fine, was the last thing he wanted.

After a few more words of goodbye, he hung up the phone and turned his full attention to you. You sat down beside him, your hand instinctively moving to your belly as Jake’s hand found its way there too, rubbing gentle circles over the growing life inside.

“You okay, baby?” you asked softly, your eyes full of concern. You knew what day it was. The past few weeks, Jake had been unusually on edge, and today, the tension had reached its peak. His sleep had been restless, and more often than not, you’d wake in the middle of the night to find him absent from bed, only to spot him through the kitchen window, standing on the porch with a haunted look in his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” he lied, the words coming out far too easily.

You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t push. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Do you wanna get out of the house today? We could go into town, grab something to eat, even if it’s raining. I’ll even eat at that one terrible barbecue place you like,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Jake chuckled, appreciating your effort. He squeezed your leg before returning his hand to your stomach. “Nah, baby. Really, I’m fine. I just wanna hang out here with my two girls and watch some terrible ’80s movies.”

You saw the strain in his eyes, the way he was forcing himself to push through the day. But you also recognized his effort to be present with you, to not let the darkness consume him completely. So, you agreed to the movie day, knowing that it was his way of coping. He could’ve easily shut you out, but instead, he chose to stay close.

Jake headed to the kitchen to pop some popcorn while you sifted through Riley’s collection of movies, eventually settling on The Toxic Avenger. It was cheesy and over-the-top, just the kind of distraction Jake needed.

The two of you curled up on the couch, sharing a blanket that was almost too small for both of you. You laughed at the ridiculousness of the movie, and for a little while, Jake managed to push the pain to the back of his mind. But it wasn’t long before you, in your pregnant state, drifted off to sleep. Jake wasn’t surprised; these days, you seemed to nap more than you stayed awake. He found it endearing how easily you’d fall asleep, your head resting on his shoulder, your soft snores filling the room.

He stayed still, not wanting to wake you, and watched the rest of the movie alone. When it ended and you were still fast asleep, Jake carefully slipped out from under you, making sure you were comfortable before turning off the TV and leaving you to rest.

Moving quietly, Jake made his way to the kitchen and retrieved a half-full bottle of whiskey from the back of the cabinet. He grabbed his helmet, laced up his boots, and pocketed his keys before stepping out into the cool air. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained a threatening gray, the gloom hanging over everything like a shroud.

Jake stashed the bottle in his bike’s trunk compartment, mounted his motorcycle, and revved the engine. The roar of the bike was a familiar comfort, a temporary escape from the heaviness that threatened to swallow him whole like the shirt you wore. Without looking back at the trailer, he pulled out of Cactus Creek, the wheels kicking up gravel as he sped off in the direction of the town cemetery.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, bathing the dusty road in a warm, golden glow. Two small boys, Jake and Jaxon, pedaled their worn bikes with all the energy their seven-year-old bodies could muster. Their voices filled the air with the imagined roar of motorcycle engines as they raced up and down the street, the sound of their laughter breaking the stillness of the quiet trailer park.

Their bikes were far from the shiny, top-of-the-line models the rich kids in Crystal Bay flaunted, but to Jake and Jaxon, they were the coolest choppers in the world. Each push of the pedal, each turn of the handlebars, was a taste of the freedom they dreamed of. One day, they knew, they’d be tearing down the open road on gleaming Harleys, just like the men they idolized. For now, though, these battered bikes were more than enough to fuel their wildest fantasies.

As they skidded to a stop near a patch of dirt, Jake noticed Jaxon’s usual grin had faded. The weight of his recent loss was evident in his hunched shoulders and the way he absently kicked at the gravel.

“Hey, Jax,” Jake called out, his voice softening as he pulled up beside his friend. “You okay?”

Jaxon shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Just thinking about my dad,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Jake hesitated, unsure of what to say. He’d heard the adults talking about Jaxon’s dad, about the horrific accident and how Jaxon’s mom was nowhere to be seen, leaving him alone. But Jake didn’t see Jaxon as alone—not really.

“You know,” Jake began, trying to sound confident, “as long as I’m around, you’ve got family. My dad says you’re gonna be staying with us for a little while.”

Jaxon looked up, a glimmer of hope in his teary eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded firmly. “We’ll be like real brothers. Always will be, no matter what.”

Jaxon’s lips curved into a small smile. “Yeah, we’re brothers.”

Jake beamed, feeling a swell of pride in his chest. “And when we’re Barbarians like our dads, we’ll have a ton more brothers. We’ll ride together, just like them.”

The boys shared a moment of silent understanding, their eyes reflecting the innocent dreams of a future where they’d be inseparable, bound not just by friendship, but by the brotherhood of the club.

But as the sun dipped further below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dirt road, an eerie stillness settled in the air. The boys, lost in their fantasies of roaring engines and leather jackets, couldn’t sense the dark clouds that loomed over their future. They didn’t know how the very dreams they cherished would one day become a nightmare that neither of them would be able to escape.

Jake parked his bike just outside the cemetery’s chain-link fence, knowing the Barbarian emblem emblazoned on the side would deter anyone from daring to touch it. The cemetery was larger than one might expect for such a small town, serving as the final resting place for the dead from three neighboring communities. Most of the headstones were shrouded in weeds, the graves neglected, their living relatives long gone or uninterested in tending to the past. But one section stood out: the back right corner, reserved for the Barbarians. These were the only headstones that remained meticulously cared for, maintained in a silent rotation by probee members to ensure their fallen brothers had a fitting final resting place. A few stones loomed larger than the rest—those were reserved for the fallen leaders.

Jake meandered toward the newest and largest of them, his bottle of whiskey dangling from his hand. Rex’s full name was chiseled into the gaudy headstone, and a well-known photo of him in his Barbarian attire was prominently displayed in the center. Jake stood there for a moment, staring at the face of the man who had once loomed so large in his life, offering what little respect he had left for him.

But he didn’t linger. His real destination was further back, where Jaxon’s headstone lay. He’d deliberately avoided this spot on the day of Rex’s funeral, unable to face it then. But now, on the anniversary of Jaxon’s death, after a decade away, it felt like a duty—a painful, necessary duty, to pay his best friend a visit.

Jaxon’s headstone was modest in comparison to Rex’s, and Jake couldn’t help but find it absurd. Rex had drunk himself to death, while Jaxon’s death had been a true sacrifice for the Barbarians, a life given for the good of the club. Yet here was Jaxon, buried under a simple stone. Still, it was well cared for, the inscription clear and clean. The photo of Jaxon at seventeen—sandy curls, blue eyes, and that familiar wide grin—was heartbreakingly youthful.

Jake lowered himself to the ground beside the headstone, the weight of ten years of absence pressing down on him. He didn’t say a word, just sat there, the silence of the cemetery wrapping around him as he finally faced the grave of his best friend. The familiar ache of loss and guilt surged through him, the memories of their last days together rushing back, vivid and painful.

“It is a Barbarian’s sworn duty to always serve this family. You have a duty to live and die by the Code of the Barbarians,” Rex barked, his voice harsh and unyielding as Jake struggled to catch his breath. The taste of blood filled his mouth, and he spat it onto the dirt at his feet, the metallic tang lingering as Rex’s words drilled into him. “It is your duty to lay down your life, if need be, for the good of this family. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jake choked out, his voice strained, the pain in his ribs nearly unbearable.

Rex’s eyes narrowed, his voice rising to a thunderous roar. “I said, do you understand, probee?!”

Jake forced himself to stand taller, summoning every last ounce of strength he had left. “Yes!” he shouted, his voice stronger this time, defiant even in his exhaustion.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Rex’s mouth. “Boys, I think he’s ready.”

Jake turned his head, catching sight of Jax standing beside him, equally battered and bruised. The two of them had endured the same grueling initiation, their bodies screaming in protest from the punishment they’d taken. But despite the pain, they both wore blood-soaked smiles. They had finally done it—after years of dreaming, they had become Barbarians.

The ceremony concluded with the presentation of their jackets, the final symbol of their acceptance into the brotherhood. As the celebration commenced, the aches and pains began to fade, numbed by the countless drinks that were thrust into their hands.

"We did it," Jaxon said, his voice rough with excitement as he playfully shoved Jake. "We finally did it, man. We’re Barbarians."

Jake grinned back, his heart swelling with pride. "That’s right. Real brothers now."

Jaxon shook his head, his sandy curls swaying with the movement. "No, man. We’ve always been real brothers. This just makes it a hell of a lot cooler," he added with a smirk.

They laughed, clinking their glasses together, spilling liquor onto the ground as they toasted to their achievement.

That night, they crashed at Ace’s house, still wrapped in their new jackets, the leather worn but loved. Even as the sun crept up, the sounds of the party filled the house, the energy refusing to die down.

Jaxon groaned as he sat up from the couch, clutching his side where the bruising had already begun to form. He lifted his shirt to examine the damage, wincing at the deep purples and blues blooming across his ribs. But despite the pain, there was a sense of pride that outweighed it all—because they had made it.

Jake shifted on the sofa across from him, groaning as the pain in his muscles made itself known. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking until his gaze locked with Jaxon’s. For a moment, they just stared at each other, taking in the sight of their battered and bruised faces. Then, as if on cue, they both broke into laughter.

"You look like shit," Jaxon joked, grabbing his head as his hangover set in.

"Right back at you," Jake shot back, wincing as he leaned too hard on his elbow.

They gathered themselves as best they could, then dragged their aching bodies toward the backyard where the party was still rolling.

When the rest of the Barbarians saw them, a cheer erupted, beer cans raised high despite the early hour.

"There they are," Rex boomed, pride evident as he clapped them on the shoulders. The boys pretended the movement didn’t hurt like hell.

"How are you two feeling?" Ace asked from a lawn chair, feet propped up, his own hangover evident.

"On top of the world," Jake replied with a smirk, just as a sharp pain shot through his head. "And a little bit like shit."

"Same here," Jaxon agreed, gesturing to his bruised body. "I was drinking to numb this, but I think I might’ve made it worse."

"Bullshit," Riley called from the Blackstone where he was whipping up breakfast. "All you gotta do is keep drinking, and you won’t feel a thing."

"Nothing cures a hangover like an ice-cold beer," Ace chimed in, tossing two beers to Rex from the cooler beside him.

The men cheered as the boys shotgunned the beers, then Riley appeared with a disposable camera while Steeljaw took over the grill.

"Alright boys, smile," Riley instructed as he focused the lens. "We’ve gotta capture this moment."

"We’re proud of you boys," Ace added, raising his can in their direction.

"Damn straight," Rex agreed.

Jaxon threw an arm over Jake’s shoulder, the two of them grinning at one another before turning to the camera. The flash went off, capturing the moment—two brothers bound by blood, brotherhood, and the all too iron-clad loyalty of the Barbarians.

Tears streamed down Jake’s face as the drizzle turned into a steady rain, each drop mingling with the wetness on his cheeks. That memory had once been a beacon of joy, a reminder of simpler, happier times. Now, it was tainted, a bitter reminder of loss.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, man,” Jake whispered, his voice thick with grief, as if Jaxon were sitting right beside him.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Rex. I should’ve been down there with you. Maybe if I was, you’d still be here. Or maybe…” His voice cracked as he lowered his head, fresh sobs wracking his body. “Maybe you’d be here instead of me. You should be here, Jax.”

Jake sat there, the rain soaking him to the bone, but he didn’t care. The bottle of whiskey lay forgotten beside him—somehow, even that wouldn’t dull the pain.

“Jake?”

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice. You stood there, a zipper jacket pulled tight over your growing belly, hood shielding your face as you squinted through the downpour, struggling up the slight incline to reach him.

“Cherry?” Jake’s voice wavered as you drew near, your figure becoming clearer through the haze. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was worried about you,” you replied, breathless as you finally reached him. “Thank God for modern technology and location sharing.”

Your attempt at a lighthearted joke fell flat; Jake’s face remained shadowed with sorrow. Without a word, you lowered yourself beside him, resting your head gently on his shoulder.

The two of you sat in silence, letting the rain pour over you, Jake secretly thankful for the way it disguised the tears that continued to spill from his eyes.

“I miss him,” he confessed, the pain in his voice almost palpable. “He’s supposed to be here.”

“I know, baby,” you murmured, your hand finding his, squeezing gently. Sometimes, there were no words that could offer comfort, only the simple acknowledgment of grief. “I know.”

Jake’s hand unconsciously moved to your round belly, his thoughts drifting to what life would’ve been like if Jaxon were still around, if he could be here to see Jake become a father. He knew, without a doubt, that Jaxon would’ve made the best uncle. They had spent countless hours talking about what it would be like to have little Barbarians of their own. The fact that Jaxon would never see that dream come true gnawed at Jake’s soul.

Just then, a gentle nudge pressed against Jake’s palm. The baby shifted, a tiny movement, but it made you both freeze.

“Did she just…?” Jake’s voice held a glimmer of joy, a sound you hadn’t heard from him in far too long.

You nodded, placing your hand over his, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, she did.”

For weeks, you had tried to get the baby to move for Jake, but she always seemed to be still whenever he was around. It was as if she was waiting for just the right moment.

Jake closed his eyes, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his heart, he took that small kick as a sign—a sign that your little girl already knew her uncle Jax. For all Jake knew, Jaxon was watching over her, waiting for the perfect moment to send her down to meet you both.

Jake gently pressed on your stomach, and the baby responded with another, stronger movement, more pronounced than before. You both laughed in amazement, marveling at the little life inside you.

You sat together in silence, captivated by the way your baby seemed more active than ever.

“She’s never moved this much for me,” you said, laughing softly as you watched Jake’s face light up with wonder.

“So she is a daddy’s girl after all,” he grinned, eyes never leaving your belly.

After a moment, Jake exhaled a deep, weary sigh. “I wanna go home,” he said, his voice heavy with longing.

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. “Then let’s go home,” you whispered, your words filled with love and comfort.

Jake stared into Jaxon’s lifeless eyes, desperately willing him to blink away the blood pooling in them. But no miracle came. The cold reality hit him like a sledgehammer; Jaxon was gone. With a trembling, blood-soaked hand, Jake gently closed his friend’s eyelids, sealing the finality of it.

The gunfire had long since ceased, and the roar of engines retreating into the distance signaled the rival gang’s hasty departure. The battlefield was eerily quiet now, save for the anguished shouts of the Barbarians as they scrambled to regroup. But Jake felt detached, like he was watching everything unfold through a thick fog. He wanted to scream for help, but no sound came from his throat, he was paralyzed by the shock of it all.

His eyes swept across the chaotic scene, landing on Nicky, who emerged from behind a large boulder several yards away, the same boulder Jaxon had dashed from when the first shot rang out. The sight of Nicky, unscathed except for a graze on his arm, ignited a slow burn of rage in Jake’s chest.

Just then, Madcap jogged over, his eyes widening in horror as he took in the scene before him. “Oh shit,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. But Jake didn’t acknowledge him, his focus was fixed on Jaxon’s pale, still face.

One by one, more men gathered around, forming a silent circle. Ace was there, his expression stony, and eventually, Rex arrived. One of the men clasped a hand over his mouth, turning away to hide his reaction to the gruesome sight. They all stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. The weight of what had just happened settled heavily over them.

Rex, usually the first to bark out orders, seemed momentarily at a loss. His stern gaze faltered as he looked down at Jaxon’s body, and for a brief second, even he seemed human—vulnerable. But the hesitation was brief. He quickly hardened, barking out commands to the men. “Get him up. Now.”

The men moved slowly, as if reluctant to touch Jaxon, as if moving him would make this tragedy all too real. They began to pry Jake’s arms away, but he was frozen in disbelief, his mind refusing to register the reality of what was happening. He still couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jaxon’s face.

That was when Nicky joined the crowd, clutching his arm where he’d been grazed. Jake’s eyes finally snapped up, locking onto Nicky’s face with a deadly intensity.

“You false fired,” Jake spat, his voice low and filled with venom.

Nicky blinked, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Jake’s expression twisted in fury. “You fired before the signal,” he growled, his voice gaining strength with each word. “You left me and Jax exposed. And you didn’t even cover him.”

Before anyone could react, Jake lunged at Nicky, his fist connecting with Nicky’s jaw in a vicious punch that sent him reeling. The men rushed in to pull Jake off, but not before he landed another blow. His anger was white-hot, boiling over, his grief fueling every strike. It took several of the Barbarians to finally drag him away, his breath coming in ragged gasps as they held him back.

All Jake could do was watch as they carried Jaxon’s lifeless body away, his heart shattering into pieces he didn’t know how to mend. The reality of what had happened finally started to sink in, leaving a hollow pit in his chest.

This wasn’t just the death of his best friend—it marked the burial of their innocence, the final toll of a life they could never return to. Jaxon’s funeral wasn’t merely a farewell to a fallen brother; it was the funeral of their boyhood dreams, the loss of the idealistic belief that their bond was unbreakable. In its place, a harsh reality settled in—one where loyalty and brotherhood had been betrayed, where the very code they lived by had demanded this terrible sacrifice. This was the true funeral, not just of Jaxon, but of everything they had once held sacred.

Taglist: @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @wetkleenex-gvf @hollyco @dannys-dream @slut4lando @josh-iamyour-mama @gretasfallingsky @takenbythemadness @scoreofinfantryvines

[blarefordaglare]

When Someone Says(Signs) No, It Means No.

A gift for @hotcheetohatredwastaken for the anniversary of BDOR (Blood Drops on Roses) 

Feel free to use this fanfiction however you like, it’s your’s, and also an apology for typing this late-

__

The hero of Twilight regrets his words. In his defense, he never expected them t0 be twisted into the situation that was as of now -but onto that later-. His mind couldn’t help but drift to the events that caused the entire situation. 

“Sweet Ordana Wild,” a heavy sigh escaped the rancher’s breath as he tried to put his thoughts into language, “I ain’t gonna go around fighting another one of those Lynels, curse courage, they’re dangerous.” Don’t get him wrong, the hero adored doing the unthinkable-the impossible. Years of his life were surrounded with that entire mindset, but he has lines. He has lines that were drawn at swords with sharpness that rivaled the master sword, a monster that belonged in a dungeon, and a swing that even a fairy struggled to heal. 

‘Please,’ the hand was moved in a stiff grace, too calculated to be genuine, ‘I’ve done it before-It’s not hard. Please. I promise I’ll be careful. I promise.” The sheer amount of force the champion put into  that single word was enough to prove the want behind the words. 

“Not hard as in Almost died and proceeded to eat half of our food stash?” His tone was dripped with sarcasm, his thick accent hanging in the air. He regretted the possibility of coming off rude-true-but not as much as he would regret being guilty, or at least involved, in an innocent life's death, “No.” 

‘But I said I promised,’ A promise he wouldn’t keep. He didn’t own a crystal ball, neither of the two did. It would be impossible to predict such events. Still, Wild pressed on, ‘plus, I can’t die until I kill the calamity-’ he suppressed the urge to finish that thought with an ‘I think’. That would destroy his entire argument. 

Twilight’s patience was wearing thin, yet growing heavier as it was attempting to remain tied precariously on a thread. He chose to not voice the quite obvious example a hero can die, for his brothers sanity (mostly) and his own, “Wild,” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, the skin first turning white, then fading into red as the skin surveyed the touch, “You need to learn, for my sake, yours, and the entirety of Hyrule, when someone says no, it means no.” His voice shook as he spoke, attempting to manifest a straight, assertive tone. 

But looking back, he probably shouldn’t have spoken at all. 

“Wild,” Twilight’s hand rested on the damp, chopped wood, “Remember that fire rod you found? We may need to use it to start this fire. All the wood is wet.” The small piece of flint lay discarded, barely managing to create a spark, let alone light a fire. 

‘No.’ 

“What?” His eyes darted towards the champion in confusion, “What do you mean, ‘no?’” 

“Twiligh-t,” His voice was barely a whisper, yet the ‘t’ was over-enunciated; it drowned out the rest of the noise, ‘When someone signs ‘No’, it means no.” The logic was there, true, but it certainly was not there in the context of the moment. 

The rancher took a moment to breathe, to not let the intrusive thought of simply somehowstealingtheslateanddumpouteveryweponuntilhefindsit get to his head, “Now, who in their right mind taught you that?” 

‘You.’

Oh. 

Right.

“Well, if we don’t get this wood on fire, we will sleep cold.” He tried to keep his voice gentle, reminding himself of what Uli did when he himself was out of reason, keeping a calm attitude while incorporating simple facts that one would know, “You don’t want to sleep cold, do you?”  

‘No.’ It was clear he was hesitant to answer, already figuring out where the conversion was headed. 

“So how about we get out the fire rod, and have a fire?” 

‘No. I’ll just put it on my back and I’ll be warm.’

Smart kid. 

“Fine then.” His voice was tinted with suppressed anger. He couldn’t lash out-that would only embarrass himself.

‘Fine.’

“Fine.”

And with that, he curled up in his bedroll. The chill of the night wind lulling him to an uncomfortable sleep. 

He would only realize, in the morning, the small flame, barely the size of a candle, lit onto a small ceramic, the smoke filling the morning air. He would only realize, in the morning, the tip of the fire rod a bit more grayer than last time.