#javier escuella x m reader

[herbatalover]

Javier just being very in love with his very tall bf

please and thank you

A/N: I'M BACK. Because I'm sad, I have COVID and I'm miserable, thank you very much. Also my dog is snoring next to my ear so I'm sorry if I make any mistakes, she's distracting me. Anyway, enjoy

(English and Spanish are not my first languages, please forgive me for any grammatical errors)

Mi Amor

Javier x male reader

It was a chilly night in Colter. You were hovering over a fire, staring at it silently. It's been tough lately, the gang lost many people. But you kept your hope for a better tomorrow.

However stress was eating you out. Your boyfriend, Javier went out with Arthur to look for John. It's been a while since they were gone, and seeing how the snow kept coming, you couldn't help but feel scared that they got stuck in it. If not, some hungry wild animal got to them.

It wouldn't get much from Javier, you tried to cheer yourself up. He's thin and short, not much meat. Well, short compared to you. But thinking about it, he was shorter than some members of the gang. Non of them could compete with you, of course.

You were... Well, tall is an understatement. You were almost a head taller than Charles, who was the tallest from the whole gang. But even you outgrew him. You used to be slightly insecure about it, seeing your background, but Javier loved it ever since he met you. He always made you feel loved, he had a gift in that. Whenever you were at your lowest, or overthinking, he came to cheer you up.

But he wasn't here now. In fact, you didn't know where he was. You weren't even sure if you'll see him again. Out of all people in the camo, why was he the one that decided to go? Why couldn't it be Bill or Lenny? They would've done better. This fool isn't even made for a weather like that, he's Mexican after all!

But before you could go any further down the road of worry, you heard horses outside. Not long after, the familiar voices of your beloved. Oh, yes, and Arthur's too.

You jumped up, excited. Delighted even. You ran to the source of the sounds, seeing as others were helping John down from the horse, Abigail immediately going to scold him. You rolled your eyes. She could give him a break at least now.

Before you could observe what was happening after, you felt arms wrap around you, pulling you into a hug.

"oh, mi amor! I was so worried will you manage without me!" The short Mexican cried out, hiding his face in your chest. You immediately slapped the back of his head.

"you worried?" You frowned, sending down a glare. But upon seeing him rubbing the back of his head, your gaze softened. You hugged him, picking him up a bit. A gesture he loved. "I thought I lost you... What took you so long?"

Javier chuckled nervously, nuzzling to you, the exhaustion washing over him.

"got some company on our way back..." He muttered, sighing softly. You smiled a bit, rubbing his back, watching him.

"I hope nothing serious?"

"wolves"

"then it wasn't anything serious" You laugh at his offended gasp before getting a light punch on your stomach.

"I could've been eaten!"

"noo, they wouldn't go after you. Look at you. You're a cute type. Not a meal you'd want to eat"

"oh you said something different that one night-" you covered his mouth before he could finish, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. Yes, it was a nice night, but not the type you'd want the whole gang to hear about.

"oh shut your mouth pendejo..."

"esto es por que te amo" he chuckled softly, taking your hand off of his mouth, taking your collar and pulling you down into a soft kiss. You blink few times, surprised before smiling slightly, kissing back.

Javier was a fool. You knew that. But he was your fool. And you'd be damned if you didn't merry that fool sooner or later. He always found ways to throw you off your feet.

And it was easy, considering the height difference.

^^^^^^

!! Any mistakes in the Spanish parts are fully my fault, I'm still learning it but Google Translate showed that I wrote the sentence correctly, so it's partly it's fault as well. !!

[livingdeadmlm]

You Bring me Closer to God pt2

Pronouns: reader is referred to as a man

Physical Sex: AMAB

How far are things going?: no smut this chapter

Warnings: bit of shame, priest reader getting teased alot, everyone wants you!!

Outline: Kieran brings two friends for a morning meal, and unknown best to you each man quickly sets their eyes on you

What inspired me to write how I did: the crappy priest romance book I got lol

Other: Yes, I am making this a harem fic. Those were my favorite fics in 2016, but they fell off after a while, and I want them back!!!

Part 1 2 3

The rhythmic clinking of pots and pans echoed through the quiet streets, almost rousing the entire town from its slumber as you threw yourself into the art of cooking. The early morning light filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on the countertop piled high with fresh ingredients. You needed the biscuit dough with fervor, the soft smell of sugar and flour in the air.

At that moment, the sizzling sounds of the bacon cooking combined with the gentle shaking of the oven rack as the biscuits baked provided a welcome distraction from the resurfacing memories of your dream that threatened to invade your mind. Each sizzle from the stovetop seemed to drown out the night's memories.

Because it was so early, most of the other people in the congregation hadn't shown up and wouldn't for two hours, so a confused expression painted your face as the heavy church doors opened and shut, light voices whispering.

Adjusting your cooking apron, you exited the kitchen and saw Kieran accompanied by two men. “Good morning, gentlemen!” you said, wiping your hands on the canvas apron before reaching out to the new man on the left. He spoke softly, “Mornin’, I’m Charles Smith.” he replied, his voice low, almost gravelly, the word slow and deliberate.

His handshake was firm—too firm. As you briefly touched, his hand enveloped yours with confidence. You felt the roughness of his palm and the deep scars on both hands, with one hand seeming to have a burn mark. But it was his eyes that stopped you. His gaze was intense, deep, and unwavering as if he could see right through you. The weight of it made your breath hitch, and you found yourself caught, unable to look away.

The other man stepped forward, his presence quieter but no less striking. “Buenos días, señor.” You noted the subtle scars on his fingers, signs of a hand that had seen its share of work, but the wounds seemed to look like cuts. But it was the softness of his touch that left you breathless. His hands were so unexpectedly tender, the softest hand you’d ever felt that wasn’t attached to a woman.

“Ah! Bue… nos dias! La comida. " You took a moment to pause and try to remember your Spanish classes from school. “Estará lista pronto.” His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, a small, unintentional gesture that felt like a jolt to your chest.

Sure, your Spanish was very slow to get out and slightly off, but he understood what you were trying to say. A smile graced his lips. “I speak English too, Father. It's very nice of you to try, though.” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment, realizing the misstep, but it wasn’t just the mistake that left you flustered. It was the way his smile lingered, and his hand stayed a little longer in yours, “I’m Javier Escuella.”

“Well! Charles, Javier, and Kieran! Breakfast will be ready soon. I just put it in the oven. When it's done, you can grab it and go or join me at the kitchen table!” You spun on your heels, B-lining to the kitchen, nimble fingers toying with the crucifix around your neck that felt like it weighed a ton across your shoulders. Was this another test? Making you grapple with possible homosexuality and then throwing three very handsome men your way? How could God throw such temptation right in front of you?

You flipped the bacon in the pan: the golden-brown color and the sweet smell of biscuits filled the kitchen. Fresh eggs were on the counter, ready to be cooked in the bacon grease. The three men shuffled into the kitchen, sharing no words among themselves. You heard each of them pull out a chair and sit. You looked over your shoulder and smiled at each of them settling in.

“Living in a livestock town is great for fresh meat and eggs! Too bad it smells terrible out there,” you laughed, taking the bacon off the pan and gently shaking the extra fat before adding it to the pile you had already finished and putting that plate on the table.

“You men new to Valentine? I don’t think I’ve seen y’all around before!” You’d heard of new faces popping up around town from passing conversations you caught when there were church events. You pulled on a pair of oven mitts and glanced over at the men. Kieran’s gaze flickered briefly over your figure, his eyes lingering just a bit too long before he looked away.

Charles, always the quiet one, seemed distracted by the decor on the walls. His gaze skimmed over photos of past church members and the occasional framed painting. But Javier– Javier’s eyes were fixed on you. His intense stare followed every movement you made; you couldn’t determine his feelings. His dark eyes swirled with such an intensity.

“It’s just an extended stay,” Charles spoke, his voice steady, but you caught the subtle way his eyes strayed back to you, though he quickly masked it. “Yeah, we’re just passing through,” Javier’s raspy voice followed, rich and low, sending a jolt through you as you placed the hot pan in the center of the table. “Well, while you’re here, I’ll make sure you’re well-fed,” you offered with a smile. "No need to come to mass or anything." You turned to close the oven door, but as you did, you didn’t feel the weight of three pairs of eyes on you, each gaze landing right on your ass.

“I’d like to hear more about this town,” Javier said, his voice steady as he leaned forward, his eyes still fixed on you. "We don’t know much about it yet—other than the… livestock." He chuckled softly, and you couldn’t help but smile. People didn’t often visit the church outside of using the confessional booth on Sunday mornings or Wednesdays. “Well, there’s not much to it, really,” you said, facing him. "It’s small but rowdy. Just a week or so ago, there was this huge bar fight. I heard it over here.” Your voice held a worried tone as you recalled the yelling. You cracked two eggs into the skillet, and the oil popped slightly.

“Drinking is a strong vice; it makes people lose sense. But being down the road from it is not the worst. I like to think it's peaceful in the church.” You flipped the eggs, adding two more to the pan. Grabbing a plate, sprinkling salt and pepper, you placed the two cooked eggs on it. You put the first plate in front of Kieran. “Thank you for the food, Father (name)!” Kieran quickly dug in as Charles's plate was placed before him. Javier's plate promptly followed. Charles took a biscuit and made a small sandwich with egg and bacon. “Oh! That's very smart, Charles. You are a wise man!” You made your small sandwich, a grin across your face.

“You cook like this often?” Charles asked, taking a bite from his sandwich. You stiffened slightly, worried if everything had tasted bad or was overcooked. “Every day, I do breakfast and dinner; I hope you’re asking to come by more often and not because it's foul?” you laughed, trying to make light of it, but your smile faltered slightly. Your stomach is already twisted in ways you couldn’t explain, but to add the layer that your food was bad? Your stomach felt tight. “No, Father (Name), it's perfectly fine, very good food."

Javier leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’d make a good wife. Why aren’t you married?” he said, toned low and teasing. His voice was undeniably warm, and it made your skin flush. Javier shifted in his seat, his knee brushing against yours just slightly. The contact was subtle, but it sent a warmth flooding through you, making your breath hitch momentarily. You forced yourself to focus on the biscuit sandwich in your hand.

“Other than the fact that I am a man?” you said, trying to maintain your composure, though your voice trembled slightly. “I was young when I vowed chastity. I never was much into relationships. My relationship with God and friends has always taken up that space… at least, I like to think so.” You laughed weakly, hoping the words lighten enough to mask your uncertainty.

“You can’t miss what you’ve never had,” you said, trying to deflect, hoping to ease the weight of the question that had made your chest tighten. Each man’s mind seemed to race, caught somewhere between curiosity and something more, something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. “Never?” Charles chimed in, his voice a touch incredulous. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as he studied you. “Like never at all? Never a fling or a kiss?" You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you finished the last bite of your biscuit sandwich, using the moment to avoid the pressure of their eyes on you. You wiped your mouth with a napkin, trying to act casual, but you could feel your pulse quicken, the room shrinking around you.

“Nope, Mister Smith,” you said with a playful edge, trying to lighten the mood, though you could hear your voice tremor. “I didn’t have a rebellious phase or anything.” Kieran, quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up, his voice gentle: “You’re quite a good-looking man. Have girls never fallen over themselves for you?” Laughing, you shook your head. “Nope, my brothers always got those confessions in our neighborhood. I focused on playing and getting better at games to beat them.” Each man chuckled, finishing up his meal.

“You’re a strong man, Father (Name). If I had your looks, I’d be a friend of every lady.” Kieran had a big grin across his face, eating some leftover bacon. Charles stood and took everyone's plate, placing each in the sink before washing them. “Oh, Mister Smith! You don’t have to! Please, you are a guest.” You stood holding out your hand, and he softly brushed away. “You took the time to make food for those in need; the least we can do is wash the dishes, especially because we’ll return for dinner."

You felt a pair of hands pull you backward from your hips, “Well, don’t make us all look bad, Charles; we will help too, Father. You go sit down and rest.” Your skin continued to burn as Javier's hands lingered, “Well, if you men insist, I will find chores elsewhere; please let me know when you plan to head out! Dinner is at 7; bring any other friends you may have!”

You shuffled out of the kitchen, giving Kieran a smile as your mind went into a panic. You would take this time to wash your sheet and maybe have a dip in the nearby river, as the cool water would help you calm down a bit before they come back later.

[millieisawriter]

The spell (Javier's version)

first ending - javier escuella x reader

summary: the one where javier comes to terms with the fact he caught feelings for you, and the two of you learnt to love each other despite your differences.

first part

wc: 2.6k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡the people have asked for a second part♡

a/n: i don't usually tag people on my fics, but this time i did tag everyone who commented under the first part <3 ily

It had been a few weeks since that night in Javier’s tent. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, not even to the girl who became a friend to you – Mary-Beth. Despite that, the whole gang must have known about what had happened between you and Javier.

Why? Well, it was difficult not to notice the sudden shift in your interactions with Javier, or the lack of these. Normally, there wasn’t a day the two of you didn’t exchange a few angry sentences. Ever since the tent incident, however, you didn’t acknowledge one another’s existence.

“You’ve got to tell me what happened!” Mary-Beth insisted.

You rolled your eyes. There was nothing to talk about, not even to your best friend. What Javier had done felt embarrassing enough, you didn’t need anyone else knowing about it.

You had just sat down to fix your pendulum when the girl approached you. The chain, to which a crystal had been attached, worn from years of usage from even before you had acquired it, finally gave out and broke a few days ago. “There’s nothing to tell,” you stated.

“Don’t lie to your best friend,” she insisted, and you know she wasn’t going to let go of the topic when she sat down on the chair next to you. “Your… necklace broke?”

“It’s called a pendulum,” you explained, still focused on fixing the chain, “I use it for simple yes or no questions. But, yes, the chain broke a few days ago.”

“So, back to the previous thing,” Mary-Beth returned to the topic of Javier, “what happened? First you two couldn’t go five minutes without snapping at each other. Now? Not even a glance. You could at least tell me if you hexed him or something.”

You finally look at your friend, leaving the pendulum on the table. “If I had hexed him, he deserved it,” you scoffed.

The girl’s eyes widened. “Did you?”

“No, Mary-Beth. I didn’t hex him. But if I had, it would have been well-deserved is what I meant.”

“Then what? Whenever he’s not out on a job, he strolls around the camp all depressed like those funny english dogs.”

“The bulldogs?”

“Exactly!”

You laughed at the comparison. Mary-Beth wasn’t wrong, though, you noticed the change in Javier’s behavior as well. He became less visible around the camp, unless he was playing his guitar. And even then, as much as you didn’t know spanish, you could tell the songs he sang were rather sad.

However, Mary-Beth wasn’t going to let go easily. “Why are you keeping secrets from your best friend?”

“Fine,” you sighed, knowing there’s no backing away from this, “something might have happened between us.”

“Something? Like what? That’s a very vague answer.”

The embarrassment physically hurt you when you thought about that specific night. “You remember the night a few weeks ago? Dutch’s gramophone played, everyone was drunk, all that…” you paused, fiddling with your fingers underneath the table, “we may have ended up in Javier’s tent.”

Her jaw dropped, and she immediately slapped your arm. “No! You’re kidding! You and Javier? I knew something was going on! Oh my God. Was it good? It was good, wasn’t it?”

“That’s not the point!”

“What is the point then?”

The point was that what happened the following morning, hurt you. Even if you never showed it, it pained you to know Javier considered his desire towards you a sin heavier than the blood that stained his hands. And just like the blood, though washed off, left a scar on his conscience, the same way his prayer didn’t make his feelings disappear.

“Next morning I woke up to Javier praying. For forgiveness. For… me,” maybe for the first time you let the hurt show through your voice as you made the confession to your friend.

Mary-Beth couldn’t believe that. She heard Javier bickering with Swanson here and there, but she never took the Mexican for someone religious to that degree. “He didn’t!”

“He did,” you sighed, “I felt like… like I wasn’t even a person to him. Just… something dirty he had to wash away. But, of course, God doesn’t care about him being a damn criminal.”

“How could he do that to you? Have you talked to him since?”

“No. I figured everything between us is done. Anything that could ever be.”

Javier made it clear enough. To him, you were a mistake. A moment of weakness at most, and you didn’t hope for more. Getting over him would be preferred, but you couldn’t help that he happened to dig a hole in your heart.

And you were left wondering – was God going to forgive Javier for how he had treated you? Or was God okay with one of his sheep taking advantage of another human being like that? God didn’t seem to care about that, so maybe you really were the Devil, after all.

Your emotions clearly affected Mary-Beth. “You can’t let him get away with that,” she stated.

“You’re a romantic, I get it,” you replied with a tone sharper than you intended, “but he and I were never meant to be. We’re too different.”

“You don’t believe that. If you did, you wouldn’t be so heartbroken right now.”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. He made his choice, and I’m not going to beg him to change his mind.”

Last thing you ever imagined to do was begging a man to love you. Not even last, you’d die before you do such thing.

Suddenly, both you and Mary-Beth shifted your gaze to a figure riding into the camp. It was Javier, returning from whatever business he was attending to. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been on a visit to the nearby town’s brothel.

Your eyes held a slightly longing look as you watched the man dismount from Boaz, a look that stopped only after Mary-Beth had nudged your arm. “Completely not heartbroken, huh?” she teased.

You looked away, and tried to argue, but before you could come up with a good response, you heard the leaves on the ground being rustled by approaching footsteps.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mary-Beth, with a knowing smirk on her lips, stood up.

“Don’t you dare,” the sentence came out like a threat from your mouth. You attempted to grab her arm, even yank the girl back onto her seat if you had to, but her slim arm easily slipped out of your hand.

A moment later, Javier stood in front of you. “I wanted to talk.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about,” you insisted, standing up so that you were on at least similar level.

“We do.”

“What, you wanna talk about how I ruined your soul?”

Javier flinched slightly at your hiss, but then looked back at you. “I’ve got something for you,” his hand went into the pocket of his jeans.

You wondered what it could be. If you had been accused of being a vampire, he could’ve brought you garlic, or a wooden spike. But how could one kill a witch in a way other than burning her at a stake? He wouldn’t even need a stake for that, you had burnt long ago from the embarrassment.

The thing you could have never expected was now dangling from Javier’s hand as he extended it towards you. “I noticed the one you used to use broke some time ago,” he said.

Your mouth fell open, but no words were conjured. Javier getting a new pendulum for you was not something even your cards could predict.

You stared at the pendulum, the delicate chain shimmering faintly in the sunlight. A teardrop-shaped crystal hung from the chain, catching the light and scattering fractured rays across your skin as you took it in your hand. It was beautiful, far more elegant than the one you had broken.

“Where did you get this?” you asked, an idea in your mind. “Did you steal it?”

Javier shifted in spot. “I saw this woman, she travels in a wagon similar to yours. Madam Nazar, or whatever she introduced herself as. I wouldn’t dare steal from her, she’s a bit scary,” he chuckled lightly. “Don’t ask me where I got the money, though.”

Your eyes finally met his when you finished checking out the crystal. “Why did you get this for me?”

“Because I was wrong—”

“You were more than wrong, Javier.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I shouldn’t have made you feel the way I did. I thought… pushing you away would make it easier. That I could forget how you made me feel, or that I’d stop wanting you if I could convince myself it was wrong.”

“And?”

“And I couldn’t.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you eyed the pendulum again. It wasn’t hard to recognize the crystal as clear quartz. Possibly the best one for a pendulum, clear quartz was known for providing clarity and amplifying energy.

“I’m sorry,” Javier continued, “I can’t change what I did, but I can tell you I never meant to hurt you. You’re… you’re everything I can’t stop thinking about, and I hate that I let my fear ruin what we could have had.”

The words cut through your ears. You closed your palm around the crystal and looked at Javier again. For the first time he finally looked vulnerable. As if the regret he seemed to feel was honest. For the first time, he didn’t build up any walls between the two of you.

“You can’t just walk back in here with a gift and expect me to forget how you made me feel.”

“I don’t expect you to forget,” he said. “But I hope you can forgive me. There’s something between us, and maybe it’s not a spell you casted on me.”

“I’m glad you finally see that.”

Javier sighed. “Let me prove to you that I’m serious. About you, about us, about your… magic, too. And that I don’t think you’re sinful.”

You had no idea what got into Javier, and it certainly wasn’t your doing, but he had changed. In the following weeks, he grew more interested in your beliefs, in your practices. Often he sat and listened intently as you explained tarot to him, or when you taught him about the pendulum.

One night, sitting by the fire next to Javier, you shuffled your cards. “Pick a card, Javier,” you said, spreading the deck on the cow skin rug.

The man’s eyes brushed over the cards as he hesitated. The deck was, obviously, facing the side with pictures down, so that he had to use his intuition. He had almost taken one card, when you smacked his hand away.

You lectured him. “Just point at it, don’t actually grab it!”

“Why not?” he asked, both amused and confused.

“Only I can touch my cards, it’s one of the rules.”

“What happens if I touch them?”

He was curious, which was good. Curious was way better than hateful, scared, or ashamed. The way Javier evolved, and warmed up to your witchy practices made you happy. You could now see that maybe there was a chance for your relationship to grow.

“Nothing, but that’s the rule. You love breaking rules, don’t you?”

He was persistent. “Would I die a painful death?”

Once again he attempted to touch the cards. Once again, you slapped his hand away.

“Stop acting like a child,” you were ready to collect your cards and put them back in the safety of your bag, “you changed, and I like it, but I don’t wanna have to cleanse my cards again, I’m almost out of white sage.”

“I’ll buy you some more, what’s the issue? How expensive can it be?”

“You’d have to go all the way to California, and have something to give in exchange to the Indians there. They don’t need money.”

“You’re more complicated than I thought,” he sighed, but it was playful this time.

“So don’t touch the cards! Tell me which one you choose.”

Javier’s gaze returned to the deck spread in front of him. He thought for a moment before pointing to one card, even though on the backside all of them looked identical.

“Great, let’s see,” you mused, taking the card and studying it before turning it to Javier. “Death.”

He scoffed. “That’s optimistic.”

“Don’t take the meaning literally. This card represents change.”

Javier tilted his head. “I think I know what’s changing.”

“Oh?”

“Me.”

He reached out, his hand gently brushing your face. His gaze traveled down from your eyes to your lips, and you knew what it meant. No sooner, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle as if he were scared to hurt you.

You let him guide you through the kiss as it became more. More in both, the touchable and spiritual meaning. Your hands found their way to his jaw and neck, meanwhile he grabbed onto your hips. This allowed him to confidently move you from where you were sitting next to him, to make you straddle his lap. Almost instinctively, you grind your hips against his, sending a clear message to the neurons in his brain.

Javier groaned into the kiss, and you could feel his grip tighten on both sides of your body. This time, you could tell, it wasn’t solely desire between you. And neither one of you was on alcohol. This time it was real, a real raw emotion, and the peak of everything between you. Your connection, your need for each other, your past tensions, and your current longing. All of these exploded between the two of you in that exact moment.

The moment was interrupted, of course. “I’m glad to see y’all making up,” Arthur cleared his throat, “but could y’all not fuck on display for the whole gang to see?”

You practically leaped off Javier’s lap, your face burning hotter than the campfire. “Arthur!” you hissed.

Javier, however, didn’t seem nearly as bothered. He smirked up at Arthur with the kind of cocky confidence that made you want to smack him. And kiss him again.

“Jealousy isn’t pretty on you,” Javier joked.

“Don’t have to be pretty,” Arthur shot back, “just don’t wanna see y’all exchanging spit like two horny teenagers.”

You knew Arthur was just joking, there was no real bite in his voice. He was secretly glad to see the two of you getting along. But that also doesn’t mean that being called out like that didn’t get you all shy and blushing.

You stood up. “Javier, let’s take this to my wagon.”

“Our wagon you mean,” he said, following you.

“Yes, our wagon,” you rolled your eyes.

Truth be told, the wagon had undergone a transformation since Javier started spending more time with you. More time, as in he was practically living there with you. As you walked in, on your left Javier’s rosary was hung on the wall. The beads were darkened with use, and the small brass crucifix blended nicely with a bundle of sage and sweetgrass that hung next to it.

The shelves along the wagon’s interior were equally divided. On one side, you organized your herbs, dried plants, and jars filled with ingredients only you could name. On the other side, Javier had placed the wooden icon of the Virgin Mary, her peaceful gaze watching over everything, just like she had watched you that one night which changed everything. Except, this time you didn’t feel judged.

You smiled to yourself. The clash between the sacred and the mystical was oddly fitting.

___________________________

people that seemed interested in a second part:

@zenyattaiscute @warmsideofthepillow03 @sockisanidot @esquilone @yolky555 @veronika272

[kylesgarrick]

I would love to see javier x male reader!! Maybe something where reader gifts javier a present?

i realised that like i havent completed a single ask, and i swear im getting to them (maybe in a year or so), but i REALLY wanted to do this!

javier escuella x male reader, criticism always appreciated. i chose to not include that much spanish, i don’t speak spanish and do not want to butcher it or makes any of my spanish readers uncomfortable, sorry. set in chapter 1 :) DID NOT PROOF READ

javier has been stressed recently, it’s hard to get through winter by itself, but its been even worse after everything that happened at blackwater. the whole gang was barely getting by and he wasn’t sure everyone would survive the winter. he tried to not worry you too much and act confident in dutchs plans, but you could practically read his mind.

you saw how he was getting less and less sleep, staying up thinking about what happened on that boat with the pinkertons. how he was clinging onto you whenever he could, acting like you were gonna leave him or die if he wasn’t there with you. you wanted to treat him to something nice, get rid of his worries or atleast make him feel slightly better, even if it lasts only an hour.

so the second you hear that javier is going on another stressful mission to try kill colm o’driscoll with dutch and a few others, you decide to go looking for something to surprise him with. yes, it was a dumb idea. you probably shouldn’t have done it in the winter alone, especially after what happened with john and the wolves. but you honestly couldn’t care less, javier deserved something nice.

while you were waving them goodbye, javier gave you one big hug, and a little kiss on the cheek. most people were okay with you and javier being two men inlove, but it was still the 1800s and you weren’t going to get murdered for your love. you caught micah scoffing in disgust at the sight of you two and you roll your eyes, before drifting your attention back to javier.

“stay safe, love” you say, as javier wraps his arms around your waist and you put your arm around his neck, the rest of the gang was still preparing themselves for the mission. he smiles softly, “i will, amor.” you exchange one last kiss, before he gets on his horse and rides out with the rest of the gang.

once you make sure they’re out of seeing distance, you hop on your horse and ride into the snowy forest, looking for things to get for him. you end up finding an old pocket watch and a piece of wood. perfect! you could try carve him something, like a mini guitar or a horse. you rode back to camp, thinking of what you could do.

you go into your tent and begin carving a mini guitar for him, after a few hours he gets home and you quickly put it under your pillow and run over to him, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss, he laughs as you practically jump up on him, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back. “someone’s excited to see me” he smiles, and you smile back at him.

“i have a surprise for you” you whisper in his ear, before leading him back to the tent. he was clearly thinking of some other surprise with the way he was shamelessly looking at your ass while smirking. when you get inside the tent, you reach under your pillow, getting nervous that he might not like it. when you pull out the mini hand-carved guitar sculpture, he gasps, eyes wide.

he stares at it in shock “you did this for me?” he says, as he sits down next to you and admires the mini sculpture. “i just thought that you’ve been stressed lately, i wanted to do something nice.” he looks at you, he places the sculpture in his lap before resting his hand on your cheek, bringing you in for a deep kiss. his lips were soft, and you felt his facial hair tickle your face, making you giggle a bit. he deepened the kiss, grabbing your waist as you straddled his lap, you finally break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. “i love you, javier.” “i love you more, my sweet thing”

ending is rushed! i can make a smut pt2 if you guys want :) this is so bad im sorry😭 barely any of its even about javier ARBE anon, if you dont like it and want me to redo it, just ask!!

[whoyacallinyellow]

Borrowed Time

Javier Escuella x F! reader

Spoilers: major RDR2 events chapters 1-6 Content: 18+, Javier angst, loyalty, dramatic, possessive, referenced/implied sex, canon typical events & violence, possible unintentional spelling mistakes, google translated Spanish Type: changed to second pov (wc - 2278) / pc: pinterest Prompt / inspiration credit: @/red-dead-do-over246

Summary: Javier has changed after his time in Guarma. With what’s left of the gang, his loyalty between you and Dutch becomes convoluted.

You gazed at Beaver Hollow’s entrance, which resided Javier, stiff as a board, shoulders squared and hips narrowed. Pacing every so often as he fiddled with his carbine. 

The sight alone made you cringe, pitying the feller who stumbled upon the camp while Javier was on shift. 

Drawing attention to your presence with steady steps, he turned towards you in a trance, eyes clouded over with deep thought. 

“Hello.” Javier greeted absentmindedly, rolling up the sleeves of tattered shirt. 

“You alright?” He wondered softly, as if he was nearly confused by your sudden presence. 

“Of course.” You replied, hoping the matched tenderness of your tone was convincing enough.

“I was jus’ wondering if we could talk? You still haven’t told me what happened in uh— Guarma.” You proposed hesitantly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Just thinking about the boys ending up there made your head spin. 

“Can it wait? I needa focus, things are complicated right now— ‘nd I’m sure Ms. Grimshaw needs you.” He replied, an automatic response he has given you more than once since his return. 

You sighed, gazing down at his recently shined cowboy boots. Javier held so much loyalty, you wondered if he had lost himself in the process. As if he broke out of his trance he shuffled around, rubbing a harsh calloused hand down his mouth and chin. 

“Okay— ok, sure, mi amor— come.” He rambled softly with a disoriented head shake. Javier trudged up to you and placed a gentle hand on your back, ushering you to a nearby log. 

After a brief moment of silence he sighed tiredly, if you did not know any better, you would think it was in relief. Waiting for you to break the ice, he wrapped an arm around you and welcomed you into his warm embrace. 

“I— I thought you were dead, Javier…” you trailed off, your face being a constant reminder of how much you worried and cared about the man. You felt his grip tighten in reassurance before speaking. 

“Dead? Oh— mi amor, you know I would never leave you.” He cooed, his silky voice nearly resembling the man he used to be. 

You abruptly leaned away from him, eyes glossy from the tears that welled up. His rough thumbs responded almost immediately with small shushing noises exiting under his breath. He began stroking your cheeks, preparing for the tears threatening to fall. 

“Please no tears.” He whispered, the sight of you broke his heart— he knew his love didn’t deserve this, but you had to trust him. 

“‘M scared, I dunno what’s goin’ on anymore.” Your voice shook, chest heaving as you desperately tried to blink away the tears. You had always tried to be strong for him, the last thing you wanted was for him to be distracted while on a job.  

“Don’t be, hermosa, there’s a rat in the gang, s’all. We're takin’ care of it.” Javier’s vague words left a lot of room for interpretation, causing you to shutter nervously. Poor Molly was all you think about, and how her love for Dutch killed her in the end.  

“I know you would never... mi novia, I know.” Javier reassured, catching onto your fearful thoughts.

“Now, what about that talk?” He changed the subject, planting a small kiss upon the crown of your head before leaning away. 

You paused with a deep breath, with everything that has happened since Black Water, you were not sure how the man would react anymore. Things have changed more than you expected since the two of you have joined the gang. 

“Well, I found a place, it’s a bit to the west—“ You began hesitantly. 

“A place? Why didn’t you say? That’s great, I’ll let Dutch know.” He cut off your timid words, grinning brightly, a rare smile you usually can’t force out of him if you tried. 

“Not for the gang.” You quickly added as Javier frowned in confusion, staring at you over his brow-line. 

“A small cabin with a garden, birds in the pines up yonder.” You describe in awe, in attempts to win him over. The both of you gazed off the small cliff side, trying to imagine the place despite the reality of the damp smog you currently resided in. 

“It ain’t Tahiti, but it’ll be quiet for us.” You continued, not noticing the concerned look plastered upon the man. 

Javier hummed gently in consideration, entertaining your thoughts as he conceptualized your vision of a quiet life as a farm man, just for a moment. 

“Don’t we already have that? I mean— besides the cabin.” Javier asked, suddenly sizing you up. His stare possessed a dreadful amount of tension and certainty— as if his question were a test. 

You met Javier's tranquil stare; a long hardened face, he was simply a husk of a man he once was. It felt like years ago when he would treat you so tenderly, like a prize he had won and held sacred, something he could only have. His gentle, yet timid hands that used to run along your figure in the night now seemed like a mere dream. 

No longer a bright eyed cowboy, but a dangerous outlaw, consumed in drunken power and delusion, his trigger happily gunning down any poor soul that dares to get in his way— or look at him the wrong way. 

This new reality broke everyone, Javier was no exception. Bandoliers decorated his vested torso, his wounds earned in Guarma still raw, paying it no mind to rest and heal. 

“You sure you’re alright?” His words broke through your clouded mind, you gazed back at his prying eyes in hesitation. 

“Leave with me. Let’s run away.” The words finally escaped you, your heart now pounding in your ears. The added tension was bound to break at any moment. 

The outlaw now lazily wore a cigarette on his lip, it sagging ever so slightly as he contemplated your words carefully. Javier seemed to always deliberately think about what you said; that is just the kind of man he is. But if he could properly rationalize his reaction was a shot in the dark. Before too long his dull eyes turned ablaze in blinded fury as if you spoke blasphemy. 

A sharp breath exited his nose, his broken fists clenched at his side as he prepared to speak, a powder keg waiting to blow. 

“My bones break for you, I’ve killed for you, fuck— amor, if I didn’t know any better I’d die for you.” Javier’s words cut through the air like knives, sharp but quiet. 

“—and now you’re asking to leave? Is my loyalty not good enough— have I not proven worthy to you?” He ranted, presenting a side you had not seen before. 

But you had no defense, Javier was the most loyal lover and companion you ever had. Time and time again he proved that, with no hesitation he would put himself in between any dangers you could face. A promise he made to himself that night, unable to bear the thought of losing you. Additional scars and wounds that would be nonexistent if he were not protecting an extension of himself. 

“Answer me!” He shouted, not caring if the gang— or what was left of it heard.

“Why can’t you trust me?” Javier’s voice suddenly lowered again in betrayal, like a horse who finally broke under the stress of Dutch van der Linde’s wrath. 

“Javier—“ You mumbled softly in shock, begging for some sort of reasoning from the outlaw. 

“I trust you, Javier, it’s—“

“Then what do you want from me?” He spat, arms gesturing out in frustration. 

“I want you, Javier.” 

“Me?!— I am yours! I’ve been yours since that night at the lake! Whether you know that or not, estúpida.”

That night you two had snuck away for a swim while the gang rested in Clemens Point. The lake looked like glass, reflecting off the starry night, only to be broken by your intimacy. Your eager fingertips ran over the cowboys scars and insecurities, gentle lips trailing down his olive skin, from his cheeks to his collarbone, covering every area not submerged. 

In midst of Javier’s vulnerabilities he couldn’t do anything but hold you dumbfoundedly, his trembling hands resting underneath your thighs which wrapped around his hips. The close contact made blood rush to his head, and among other places. 

He remained that way for the entire swim, afraid to make the wrong move and scare you off, despite your naked body quite literally holding onto his, an unmistakable gesture for the trust you held for him. 

Javier swore up and down there were twice as many stars in the sky that night, which only encouraged him to make that promise to you. It was also that night he knew you officially had to be his, despite Micah’s advances—

“If you trust me, you’d trust Dutch’s plan.” He offered calmly, resting a hand on his belt. 

“They’re picking us off one by one— Javi, we’re on borrowed time, you must see that.” 

Javier adjusted his neck handkerchief, gaze locked on the ground away from you and the camp dwellers. 

“Why don’t’cha go, Dutch needs me strong.” He murmured simply, unaware of the extent you would obey. 

Your hands ran along the crumbling log bark before raising to your feet, wishing the man could see things how he used too. Quiet foreign curses and phrases then fired off the outlaws tongue while you departed, you recognized some of the words being that of a female dog. As you spun on your heel, the entire gang silently watched the dispute unfold from camp. 

“Fine! Sit here and wait for Dutch to turn the water into wine!” 

“Oh fuck off, chica!”

And those were the last words he spoke to you, they painstakingly replayed in his mind for the rest of the day. No one dared to ask the short-tempered outlaw what happened— not even Micah. 

The following day Javier figured he’d offer an apology to you, and perhaps convince you to prolong the running away. Emerging into your shared tent that early morning revealed an empty cot, along with your ransacked belongings at a disarray. 

After asking around camp, no one seemed to know where you wandered off to, everyone had problems of their own— the girls spat curses at him after witnessing yesterday's event, they were the least likely to talk, especially after what happened to Molly. 

The guilt and worry ate him alive throughout the day, he spent it scouting around, fearing the worst— what kind of man was he if he couldn’t keep the only promise he made? 

Defeated, the outlaw rode back into camp, Dutch lecturing him about his prolonged absence, while Micah sat at the wooden table behind them. A shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

Javier’s suspicions grew as his temper shortened, afterall, Micah was the only one he didn’t ask. 

“See my girl today? Hope not, for your sake.” He asked casually, gesturing towards the man. Micah grinned at his obvious uneasiness, dragging his boots from the table. 

“I was gon’ follow ‘er, partner, honest, but she’d threaten to gun me down, of sorts.” He shrugged, stretching out his arms lazily. 

“Where is she?” Javier demanded with a shout, further approaching Micah. 

“Easy now.” He replied, reaching slowly into his inner vest pocket, then presented a folded piece of paper he had nabbed from the tent after you fled. 

With an aggressive snatch of the paper, Javier read your note, a western cattle town scribbled down with a simple “I’ll wait for you.” 

Written so beautifully, he ran his fingers over the letters, but was rudely interrupted by a certain condescending voice.  

“So— is she our rat, amigo?” 

Javier glared at the man over the paper he clutched, unable to speak. 

“Ah, well, I knew she was no good, shoulda just let me have—” 

“Shut up, Micah— Don’t speak of her.” He hissed after a contemplating pause, desperately trying to restrain himself from disposing his pent up anger on the shyster. 

“C’mon cowpoke… only jokin’, ya’know how women are.” 

“Sure. You weren’t this chipper the nights she’d lay with me, cabrón.” Javier growled, taking a step closer to him, cracked knuckles beginning to bleed from the strain— anything to get the bastard to shut up. 

Micah chuckled sourly, his teeth gritting as he rocked in his chair. 

“Whatever you say, Mr. Escuella.”

Javier spat at the bastard's feet before crumpling up the letter with a toss, he then watched the paper engulf in flames and eventually turn to ash. But his love for you remained. 

That same night Javier sat on the edge of the path, unbothered to stand for his shift, revolver placed in the dirt next to him. 

He dug his boot into the dirt, creating a little divot with his heel, which only made his injured leg burn and sting, the pain keeping his mind at bay. 

Restlessly propped up against the same log the pair sat yesterday, he sighed in despair, freeing his aching head from his bowler hat. 

The cigarette Javier desperately puffed on nearly burnt his bloody fingers, his cheek puffy and purple. For what it was worth the outlaw would have killed Micah with his fists alone if Charles wasn't around to pry him off. Flicking away his ash he ran his fingers over the bloody patch, his mind unable to stray away from you. 

Leaning back on the log, Javier gazed up into the nights sky— and there were twice as many stars as usual— he huffed shakily, thinking of your words out loud. 

“Borrowed time.”

~

[sweetjuniperandboiledsatan]

Chapter 29 – Further Questions of Female Suffrage

Full story here: Not a Doctor, Not an Angel Either Rating: M Pairing: John Marston x F!Reader; Javier Escuella x F!Reader Word count: 39,387 Chapters: 29/41 Warnings: Sexual content, mention of alcohol and cigarettes, blood, violence

In the past few weeks you've spent with Sadie, she had told you repeatedly that you wouldn't truly learn unless you've seen action, and each time she brought it up, you easily dismissed the notion, thinking it might have just been her own version of tough love. You've never given it much thought, really—until now.

You found yourself a couple of miles away from Shady Belle, taking cover behind a boulder, its rough texture pressing against your fingers. The midday sun blazed overhead as Sadie cautiously surveyed the clearing ahead. She informed you casually that there may be about a dozen or more Lemoyne Raiders that had set up a camp there.

You fumbled with your Colt revolver, your hands slightly trembling with apprehension. "I've never shot anyone, Sadie," you muttered as you tried to wrap your head around the reality of the situation. "I've never killed anyone. I don't think I ever can!"

You have desperately tried to explain to her that target practice and taking down the occasional deer were already more than enough, considering before all these, the mere recoil of a gun would send you staggering backward. Now that you could manage to hit a bottle or two out of five in a row, you'd like to believe your lessons were already over, and she had taught you everything you could possibly learn.

Today, however, Sadie had a point to make – as far as she was concerned, lessons weren't over yet.

"Listen, darlin'," Sadie said reassuringly, "I get that this ain't what you signed up for, but sometimes, life deals us a hand we never expected. We ain't lookin' for trouble, but if it comes our way, we need to be ready."

You stole a glance at your Colt, its metal glinting brightly in the sun. You felt your heart pounding relentlessly. The thought of aiming your weapon at another human being sent shivers down your spine, but then you firmly reminded yourself why you were here in the first place.

The only reason why you asked for this crazy woman's help was so you could stop feeling sorry for yourself. You've been so weak and helpless all this time. Perhaps knowing how to fight back could've made all the difference that day your father was killed, or when the Braithwaites took Jack or even the last time you went face to face with your father's murderer.

"You're gonna be just fine. I got your back," she said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. Her eyes remained fixed on the makeshift tents ahead.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you whispered more to yourself than anyone else, "Alright. Fuck. FUCK. Let's do this."

Sadie's plan was straightforward (at least to her, anyway). Given the odds you faced, your best bet would be to approach the camp quietly. Sadie would take the offensive, eliminating any stragglers on the outskirts, as you provided cover. As you get closer, you were to stay low, keep an eye out for any Raiders, and keep covering fire as she maneuvered.

"You see any one of 'em, you point and shoot," Sadie instructed. There was no room for hesitation. She reminded you – just aim, shoot, and keep her alive.

As the two of you braced yourself for the attack, you heard the bushes behind you rustle, causing your heart to leap into your throat. You swivelled around, Colt at the ready.

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there, partner!" Javier whispered. You've shot him once accidentally, and he had no intention whatsoever of going through that again. Arthur was with him. The pair approached you and Sadie, and now, all four of you were huddled together in a rather humorous display of caution.

Arthur leaned in, whispering just loud enough for the group, "We were out fishing and saw you ladies headin' this way. Armed like that, sure didn't seem like a goddamned Sunday picnic you were planning on." Arthur said.

"So what's the plan?" Javier chimed in enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together.

Sadie shook her head at the audacity but instantly realised that a significant advantage had just presented itself. She leaned in closer to you, "Seems like we've got ourselves an impromptu raiding party, darlin'. The more, the merrier, I s'pose. I don't want you getting killed on your first rodeo, and with these two around, we'll have some extra insurance."

She looked at your faces and decisively directed, "Javier, you're with me. Arthur, you're with [Y/N]."

With that settled, you and Arthur swiftly moved to a huge tree, giving you a vantage point over the Lemoyne Raiders' camp. The heat was stifling, but the intensity of the upcoming confrontation made the air feel even heavier. The tree was a little further from the action, but it provided enough cover for both of you.

Arthur readied his revolvers. Every so often, his gaze flitted to you, but you purposely averted your eyes. You clutched your weapon tighter, your palms slick with sweat.

"What? We still ain't talking?"

Taking a moment, you replied, "Just make sure I don't end up dead, Mr. Morgan, and we can call it even."

A faint smirk played on his lips, but his eyes remained serious. "Don't you worry none, I ain't gonna let that happen," he whispered, his voice steady. You found his seemingly calm demeanour, like he'd been through this dance a million times before, both comforting and slightly disconcerting.

Sadie made the first move, expertly dispatching two unsuspecting Raiders who had ventured dangerously close to her spot (most probably to take a piss). Gunshots broke immediately after, the acrid scent of the gunpowder filling the air. That was your signal. Arthur and Javier followed suit, making every bullet count as they maneuvered through the Raiders' camp.

For you, however, time seemed to stand still as the sounds of the battle overwhelmed you – the pop and crack of firearms and the desperate cries of each Raider they've successfully taken down. 'Move! Damn it, move! Just point and shoot, that's all!' But no matter how much you berated yourself, your feet remained rooted to the ground.

Arthur was already a few paces ahead. He turned around to check if you were right behind him. His eyes widened with concern when he noticed you weren't advancing. 

"Move, [Y/N], now!" he urged you in desperation, momentarily letting his guard down.

Then you saw it. As your partner grew increasingly distracted by your inaction, he had failed to notice a Raider creeping up, his weapon raised. He had Arthur dead to rights. Without thinking, instincts taking over, you aimed your Colt and fired – pop! Pop! The bullets hit the Raider just as he was about to pull the trigger on Arthur. The man fell, a surprised expression on his face as he crumpled to the ground.

Arthur looked at you, stunned. "Nice shot!" He called out, a sense of relief and admiration in his voice. "Now get over here!"

The fight continued around you, and there was no time to dwell on the life you had just taken. With each subsequent shot and move you made, you found your rhythm, your reactions sharpening as the minutes passed. Arthur, meanwhile, never strayed too far from your side. He fought fiercely, but every so often, his eyes would search for you amidst the chaos, making sure you were safe.

The hideout was slowly cleared, and as the last Raider fell, a tense silence settled over your surroundings. You looked at your companions. Their faces were smeared with dirt and sweat, a few scratches and bruises here and there, but alive, nonetheless.

Sadie clapped you on the back, "You did good out there."

As you prepared for the journey home, the adrenaline from the fight began to ebb away, and you felt a sharp, persistent pain on the side of your abdomen. You had dismissed it at first, but the pain and discomfort only grew more pronounced.

"Hey, you alright?" Javier asked, noticing the discomfort you were in. Reluctantly, you lifted your shirt, revealing its source. Your face drained of colour as you saw the dark stain on the clothing, the vivid red of fresh blood.

Sadie's eyes widened with alarm, and Arthur was quick to approach. "Dammit." He muttered under his breath.

"It looks like it just grazed you," Sadie observed – she was right. The wound appeared to be superficial, most likely a bullet grazing your side rather than penetrating deeply – a stroke of luck, you thought, realising that should you have stood inches away from your spot earlier, you would've been pretty much dead by now.

Still, you knew that even seemingly minor wounds could turn serious if left untreated. With trembling hands, you pressed a cloth against the wound, applying gentle pressure to slow the bleeding. The pain was sharp.

Javier watched with concern. "You're gonna be alright," he assured you. "It's not too bad. We need to get you home and patch you up."

*

Back at the camp, the four of you made quite the sight. With your arm draped over Javier's shoulders for support, you leaned heavily on him while Sadie took the lead, guiding your unsteady steps toward your tent. Arthur followed close from behind. The commotion drew the attention of several gang members, who watched in curious concern. Dutch and Hosea stood from their seats on the veranda, their eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"It's fine. I can do this." You tried to convince them. But they were having none of it.

Sadie gave you a stern look, her eyes unyielding. "You ain't in any condition to be actin' tough," she stated matter-of-factly.

Javier gently cut you off. "Stop being stubborn." He helped you inside, carefully setting you down on the bedroll. The dim interior was a stark contrast to the dying light outside. His eyes constantly darted from your face to the injury on your side. You began to instruct him, but your voice came out weaker than you had anticipated.

"Javier... get my bag," you whispered, grimacing from the pain.

He quickly did as he was told. As he started cleaning the wound, he looked up, his dark eyes searching yours for assurance. He tried to be gentle, but his uncertainty was evident.

"Easy there," you whispered, wincing slightly when he accidentally pressed a bit too close to the wound.

Javier's eyes widened in alarm. "Lo siento," he whispered apologetically. "I'm trying to be careful, but..."

"It's okay. Just listen, and I'll tell you what to do." Despite the pain, you gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Outside the tent, you could hear the faint murmurs of Sadie and Arthur's conversation, occasionally glancing inside to see how you were doing.

"Ain't' too bad for your first time, huh." Arthur quipped, peeking into the tent and handing you a flask of whiskey. You took a swig, the fiery liquid providing temporarily relief as it dulled the biting sting of your injury. You exhaled deeply, savouring the brief reprieve as Javier diligently tended to your wound.

"What the hell happened?!" John's voice was agitated, jolting you from your moment of respite, as he pushed past Arthur and Sadie to get a look at you. His eyes locked onto the wound, then Javier's hands, covered in your blood. His face contorted in anger and worry, and his eyes met yours for a brief moment. but it felt more like an eternity.

You did tell him last night you’d talk today, but you purposefully went out with Sadie (although at that point, you were oblivious to what she had planned all along) using it as a convenient excuse to avoid him.

"We got her, John," Arthur assured him, indicating that now might not be the best time for too many questions.

***

[gaybatmanenthusiast]

masterlist⠀˳ ⁺ ⁎ ˚

REQUEST ARE OPEN! I DONT WRITE HEADCANONS OR SCENARIOS, I ALSO DONT WRITE SMUT/LEMON .ᐟ

I DONT WRITE FOR X F! READERS UNLESS A FRIEND OR MUTUAL REQUESTS. DONT ASK FOR X F! IN REQUESTS PLEASE .ᐟ

SCREAM

BILLY LOOMIS

⟡ ݁₊ . (series: his gaze) part one ★ part two (m!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - a killing heartbreak (gn!)

—————————————

HAIKYUU!!

KUROO TETSURŌ

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - the morning after (gn!)

—————————————

THE WALKING DEAD

ABRAHAM FORD

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - fighting together! (gn!)

MICHONNE GRIMES

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - healing wounds (gn!)

RICK GRIMES

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - rescued by the sheriff (m!)

NEGAN SMITH

⟡ ݁₊ . (drabble) - kitchen romance (gn!)

GLENN RHEE

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - finding eachother (m! brother)

—————————————

RESIDENT EVIL

LEON S. KENNEDY

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - rescue (gn!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (drabble) - Harmonies (gn!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - Partners in crime (m!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - whispers in the night (gn!)

CARLOS OLIVERIA

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - grocery store (gn!)

—————————————

TLOU

ELLIE WILLIAMS

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - grief (stand alone)

—————————————

RDR2

ARTHUR MORGAN

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - a night by the fire (gn!)

JAVIER ESCUELLA

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - bridges beyond words (gn!)

—————————————

ONE PIECE

ZORO

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - sailing hearts (m!)

—————————————

THE 100

BELLAMY BLAKE

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - sheltered hearts (m!)

—————————————

HARRY POTTER

RON WEASLEY

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - serendipitous love (m!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - brewing romance (m!)

DRACO MALFOY

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - loyalty divided (m!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - brewing bonds (m!)

—————————————

STARDEW VALLEY

SEBASTIAN

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) starry night ride (m!)

—————————————

DC

THE JOKER

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - dancing with darkness (m!)

—————————————

TUA

FIVE HARGREEVES

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - an unordinary encounter (m!)

—————————————

SKINS (UK)

SIDNEY JENKINS

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - no title (m!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - unspoken confessions (gn!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - lost in translation (m!)

—————————————

THE MAZE RUNNER

GALLY

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - healing paths (m!)

⟡ ݁₊ . (oneshot) - realisations in silence (m!)

[dutchsbigolhands]

Easing of Tension

Introduction

Everyone has been unbelievably on edge since Blackwater, you being no exception. Your partner being the leader of the gang, you felt an extra bit of pressure. But luckily, Dutch has found a way to alleviate some of this stress from you... as well as another.

Dutch x reader x [your choice!] smut

This is just the introduction of this fic, but will branch off into other chapters depending on who Dutch picks for you. The hyperlinks for them will be below. If there’s a certain character you’d like to see, send me an ask!

Arthur Morgan

Javier Escuella

Sean Maguire (in progress)

Tags are below the break. Copy and pasted from AO3.

Word count: 922

Read on AO3

Tags: Smut, Sex, Threesome (F/M/M), Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Dom/Sub Undertones, Aftercare, Porn without Plot

The days seemed to pass impossibly slow at Horseshoe Overlook. The combination of being on edge since Blackwater and the need to lay low made time drag by. You spent these endless days gazing at the abundant scenery around you or losing yourself in a book.

You opted for the book today, finding a comfortable spot on your cot to allow your mind to let go. You’d admittedly been high string for the past couple of days due to the pressure on your partner. Being the leader of the gang was a heavy responsibility and you couldn’t help the bit of weight that slipped from his shoulders onto yours. It’s just who you were to take on the emotions of others, so you couldn’t really blame him.

You sighed, not able to concentrate on the words in front of you as you worried for Dutch. You set your book down and gave a quick look for him, but he didn’t seem to be around. It was a bit strange for him to wander too far from his tent and unheard of for him to leave the camp since Blackwater, so you couldn’t help the tinge of anxiety in your chest. You shook your head and laid down, deciding that he just stepped away for a bit. Worrying senselessly wasn’t going to help anyone.

Then you heard him approach: the shuffling of chains and rattling of revolvers giving him away. You sat up, greeting him with a weak smile as he entered the tent. He didn’t even seem to see you as he turned and closed the flaps of the tent. You watched him, puzzled and slightly alarmed as he repeated the same thing on the other side.

It wasn’t often he did this during the day. He only did so when he slept or to shield what he was doing from the prying eyes of the camp. Your heart raced, catching on to the implications of what was to come.

“My dear girl,” he spoke, turning to you now. You bristled at his words. “I have a surprise for you.”

You managed a smile, but still held a level of confusion.

“You do?” You asked playfully. Dutch chuckled lowly, moving his hand to cup your cheek.

“It seems we’ve both been on edge lately,” Dutch started. He had this tone in his voice that made your heart accelerate. “I believe I’ve found a way to relieve some of this tension.”

Dutch motioned for you to stand and you did so. He turned you and pressed his front flush against your back.

“It’s not just you and me that feel this stress darling,” he mewled into your ear, hand tracing up your arm and across your shoulder. You leaned back against him, eager for this hands to roam your skin. The hand ghosting over your shoulder slowly wrapped around your throat, keeping your head in place as he breathed into the shell of your ear.

“Dutch…” you breathed. It was broad daylight. You could see it peeking through the canvas as the wind pushed the flaps. The members of the camp were still up and about and surely wouldn’t miss the sounds you typically made in the dead of night.

“You see these men?” He asked. You struggled to peek through the small crack in the canvas to the campfire outside. Javier sat on the ground with a coffee in his hand as Arthur walked by and sat down across from him. You caught a glimpse of someone you didn’t have a chance to identify before Dutch’s voice brought you back in.

“You will have one of them tonight,” Dutch tantalize. Your breath caught in your throat as you tensed. You weren’t sure if you understood him correctly: He–Dutch– was going to let another man fuck you?

“R-really?” You managed breathlessly.

“Don’t sound so scared darling,” Dutch ran his fingertips over the fabric covering your stomach causing you to shiver. You refocused your gaze outside, Micah had joined the other two by the campfire. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Your head was swimming. You’d taken Dutch many times in many different ways: It always seemed like he had something new up his sleeve when he was in the mood. But you’d never thought of having your love as well as another at the same time.

You were intrigued and fought to hide the excitement that rose in your chest. Your mind flickered through all the possibilities of men you could have and how they would have you.

“Who?” You asked. Dutch chuckled, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“Now I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, would I?” He teased. You let out a quiet whimper, earning another chuckle from Dutch.

Slowly, he released you, not giving you time to ask anymore questions before he left the tent. You let out a few rapid breaths as you regained control of your muscles in the dark of the tent. You swallowed hard and cautiously exited into the daylight.

Your eyes scanned the camp, stopping at each of the men, scouring them for answers as to who had agreed to do this. You waited for one of them to give you a sign: a wink, a wave, something to give them away. However, everyone just carried on with themselves as if it was any other normal day.

Your face flushed as you willed yourself to begin asking around. Somehow, today was going to go by even slower than you had expected.

[frillydolle]

javier making food for reader cuz they r sick? <3 (the food doesn’t taste that good but he tried his best :c )

javier escuella x female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ ur sick!

it was cold. well, it was freezing, actually. and everyone was freezing and stressed out. the winter storm didn't help anyone out either. made it a lot harder.

especially on u.

the gang has made it out from blackwater, barely scathed. u lost a few people but didn't have time to grieve properly since the lot of u were running from lawmen. it was difficult! if it wasn't for the stupid ferry job then maybe all of u would've been fine. but no, micah just had to insist on it-

“'m fine, john- just the flu-” u say softly before a cough interrupts u. this took a toll on everyone. even john was still recovering from a wolf attack than arthur, and javier saved him from. u weren't sure where javier exactly was, and so u ended up talking to one of his close friends, john. u liked him, he was nice to javier and so he was nice to u.

“well, you ain't as bad as me.. abigail keeps gettin' on at me for this goddamn scar.” john replies as he adjusts himself sitting in the chair while u were lying in the same bed he was in when he was at his worst.. he just totally wasn't distracting u while javier was making you some food. that's one thing that javier told u that was annoying to deal with, hearing john and abigail bicker and argue about every little thing.

it wasn't just tiring for him but tiring for everyone else to hear.

after a little while of u and john talking ignoring the coughs and sneezes interrupting you john eventually left u be, leaving u to the sounds of the wind outside and people muttering and talking. and u respectfully stayed far away from everyone as much as u could, not wanting anyone else to get sick, especially little jack.

after what felt like hours of ur sickness not getting any better, ur next vistor was ur sweet and loving boyfriend:( oh he was just the cutest! he was always gentle with u, and super understanding. he knew you could look after yourself but he wasn't letting u move any extra muscle until u felt better.

he made his way over to u while holding... a bowl? then u realised that silly man made some stew for u:( what a sweetheart, made ur heart skip a beat at the thought. u love that man more than u could ever imagine.

“oh, javi- you didnt have to, im fine-” but he wasn't leaving any room for debate. another sneeze escapes u again, god, this was getting annoying- u hated being sick, u couldn't help but feel a little useless that u couldn't help out.

“te traje esto, te hará sentir mejor- my sweet girl, you are burning to the touch.” he replies as he places the bowl of stew on ur lap as u adjusted urself to sit up proper. he hated seeing u sick like this, but he knew that u would feel better soon.. hopefully. at least until they find somewhere better than here.

(i brought this for you, it's gonna make you feel better.)

you took the soup and took your first bite.. it wasnt that bad. the food may not be up to ur liking but he tried his best and that's what's counts! he always made sure that u were comfortable, safe and well. u continued eating it either since u haven't been for a while, in fear that u might throw up if u did.

“i like it alot.. thank you, my love.” u say as u swallow some of the food that u chewed for a little longer than intended but u were grateful for what he did. u always were super flattered by him and he made sure of that. “por supuesto, mi dulce niña. you know i care about you.” he replies as he kept his gaze on u, totally not concerned over ur health.

(of course, my sweet girl.)

“you're nose reminds me of a rabbit.. its all pink fom your sneezing.”

“... thank you, javi.”

he was so silly. but u loved him.

[shittybundaskenyer]

✹ ▬   𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

rating: Explicit

pairing: Javier Escuella x M!Reader

summary: you go on a hunting trip with javier that ends with fishing, a good meal and a fight.

warnings: swearing, a bit of angst, some sweet tension, some more yearning, a little gory details with the fish, some rough kissing and smut in the end for a treat

word count: 2867

a/n: another fic i wanted to get out earlier but couldn’t. this is my first time writing javier and a male reader so bear with me. also this is a bit different from my usual i think? anyway thank you so much for your request and kind words anon, you’re so sweet! 💕

MASTERLIST    |    ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

The water is lukewarm near the shore, lapping gently at the sandy soil as the wind picks up a little, warping the muddy green surface of the lake into ruffles and waves. You can see the bushes of pondweed and algae twist and twirl under the water, dancing around small fishes and tadpoles. A hungry bird watches over them, from the tree above your head where it sang love-lullabies just a moment ago. He's gone quiet, hopeful for his early dinner. 

You miss the song already. 

A loud splash distracts you, erasing the soft melody from your mind. It’s a fish, you realize, hooked on Javier’s line, desperately flopping around in the water to tear itself free. There’s no mercy for it where two hungry stomachs growl in sync. The last time you’ve eaten a normal meal was yesterday morning. 

Javier takes his time though, fishing peacefully like the day’s all his, like there’s no law breathin’ down your necks, like there’s no god above the peacefully swaying Lemoyne meadows. 

But there’s one. Fate. 

He grips the rod firmly, reels in the fish with practiced movements. It’s a fairly big one, a bass probably. Gonna make one hell of a meal with all the wild onions and thyme you gathered. 

It’s still strange—how you two can work together. There’s a lot of silence, a few long, meaningful looks and no words are needed when you sit down in the end of a day and spend some time nursing a whiskey bottle. He often sings, hums gentle tunes of songs you cannot understand. Love ballads, war songs, some sea shanties Pearson taught him. His voice is nice, soft even. Lacks the edge your own possesses. No one says your name like he does. 

Christ, you’re lost again. You watch how he picks the hook out of the mouth of the bass and walks to a small tree stump that’s covered in thin flecks of blood and silky fish scales. You’ve seen this countless times, the way he knocks the life out of it with a log, one really strong hit to the head, and the fish’s eyes go dead. You can’t look away from his hands. Slender fingers, crossed by many scars. Knife cuts, gun-callouses. Fine, dark hairs and neatly trimmed nails. There’s blood under them, probably the fish’s. Or one of the lawmen. Or yours. 

A dull ache flares up in your throat, under the small scar you got years ago. The phantom pain of a touch, those same fingers pressing on your own skin. You shake your head and stand up rom the grass, patting down your jeans and popping open the top buttons of your shirt. This is the longest day of the year, the day of the sun when it never wants to slip under the horizon. It burns your skin, makes sweat roll down between your shoulder-blades. Purgatory, for your sins. Just as hot as the gunpowder exploding when firing a bullet. 

You sit down near the fire, trying to breathe some life into it. There’s a small grill you salvaged from a broken down wagon somewhere near Emerald Station, and an old coffee percolator Javier found in the shack nearby. After what happened in the last years this feels like heaven. A warped, sick kind of heaven, a corner of hell masquerading as the home of angels. 

The firewood is still wet from the morning rain so it pops and coughs smoke into your face, cracks loudly as the fire finally catches. 

Javier turns towards you and smiles at the sound, that rare, soft smile of his. It makes something inside your chest throb. This quiet companionship, friendship even, is still something you can never get used to. People were not meant for you. Like you’ve been at the scene when the Tower of Babel got cursed, and with it, you as well. You were always greedy for love. For attention, yet you never deserved it. 

You never will. 

But this, this is something. Enough. 

When the fire is up and roaring, you flop down into the grass again and watch how Javier cuts the fish's belly open, how he guts it with practiced movements. A blade wielded by him turns into a dancer. There's that deep yearning inside you again, that aching realization that you would die the prettiest death if he would decide on flipping that knife into your chest instead. You, helpless, pressed into the softening earth with his strength holding you down, burying you amongst fish scales and fresh grass and the rich soil. 

You remember the day you two met all too well. The cut on your neck. The blood in your throat, oozing from the corner of your mouth. The tip of his knife between your ribs, ready to press down—

It’s the material of many dreams of yours after all. 

"You okay, my friend?" he looks up at you, stopping in his work for a moment until your gaze meets his. You nod and he gives you the barest smile, returning to prepare the fish. 

You've both come a long way since then. 

“When do you think this is gonna end?” you find yourself asking. It’s a selfish question. You don’t exactly know what are you really asking. 

“What?” 

This hunting trip. This reality of being wanted dead or alive in multiple states. This life. This companionship.

“The law, chasin’ us,” you finally sigh. You’ve been greedy before, but you know better now. You have to enjoy this until it lasts. 

“That’s never,” he smiles again, a with an almost sad look in his eyes. The fish’s almost done. He puts it near the others on a wobbly old tin plate. 

You prepare the fish from now on, seasoning it with the fresh greens you picked nearby while Javier packs up his fishing equipment and flops down next to you in a log to clean his knife with the rag he uses to rub gun-oil onto his revolver. 

The heat is almost unbearable next to the fire but the smell makes you stay when the fishes start to cook on the old grill. Javier watches with hungry eyes, fidgeting with a cigarette in his mouth in the meanwhile until he offers the half-burnt thing to you. You try no to think about how the butt of the cigarette faintly tastes of mint and chewing tobacco.

This is the best dinner you’ve had since months. The stale taste of Pearson’s stew is erased from your tongue as soon as you take a bite from the cooked bass. Javier has bread, too, a can of dried tomato and some leftover whiskey from last week. This could be a hotel dinner somewhere in Saint Denis. But it’s not. You’re sitting in the real wilderness, not brick and steel, under old trees and a symphony of birdsong with the familiar smell of algae and fish, the quiet lapping of the lake. 

You think about the others, the camp. The work that still needs doin’. The law set on a wild goose-chase. When you’re both finished with the food, you can’t help asking, 

“Do you think Dutch’s got somethin’ wrong goin’ on with his head?”

Javier’s eyes go narrow for a second. 

“‘Course not,” he slowly shakes his head and puts the plates away. They need washing a bit later. He looks up at you and walks closer. “What, you wanna leave?”

You shake your head and wipe your hand on your jeans. 

“No. I was just thinkin’ about what happened with Arthur a few weeks back. He never went searchin’ for him.”

Javier sees through you like glass. He know where this conversation is going and he doesn’t like it. 

“He was probably busy,” he shrugs, kicking dirt onto the fire to make it die down faster. There’s no need for it in the warm nights of July. Your hand curls into a fist. 

“But with what, Javier? I can’t wrap my head around why he wouldn’t care for his own son,” you know you’re going too far. But what happened scares you. Arthur is Dutch’s right hand man, and he didn’t care when he went missing. You just know he didn’t. 

“You thinkin’ on betraying him now, don’t ya?” Javier’s hand goes for the bade at his hip, his palm drapes around the wooden hilt. 

“I just—I think he’s not in his right mind. What if it was you who got captured?”

“I wasn’t,” he whispers, softy, in that voice he uses to hum ballads after the camp went to sleep. 

“That’s not what I’ve asked. You’re just afraid to think about what would’ve happened if he didn’t search for you. I know he wouldn’t.” This is why people hate to be around you. You ask too much, stir up shit when you know you shouldn’t. But you care for these people, for him, if they get hurt… You can’t let them. You have a knife, a gun and blood in your guts, you can fight. No one can run forever.

“Stop,” he hisses, and the blade is unsheathed. You almost anticipate the cold weight of it against your neck, in a really fucked-up way. 

“Loyalty blinded you. All of us. But this thing, since Blackwater, it ain’t right,” your voice is calm but your heart isn’t.

Javier lunges for you, and you tumble into the grass, with his weight atop you and his knife nestled in the hollow of your throat. The scar flares up there with a burning of a cut. Javier snarls.

“If I die, I’ll die. But I’m gonna be free.”

You force his hand away, kick him off of you, down into the dirt beside you. There’s a brief second while you’re both laying flat under the settling sun, until he rises up again and goes for your shoulder instead, cutting a hole into your shirt and nicking the skin under.

“Do you really?” you look up, into his eyes until the fight softens in them. He’s tired under the mask, so tired, for a second you almost think it looks like he’s dead. He’s been running since… what? So long before Blackwater, before you two met, before anything. He runs since whatever happened in Mexico. He got so used to it he can’t stop. 

“Stop it!”

You knock the blade out of his hand anyway. There’s a slap on your face that you can’t really feel, a punch to your shoulder. He slumps against you like a dead body, like a corpse freshly pulled off of a horse’s back. Fish scales glint in the yellow light between blades of grass around you, turquoise and silver and muddy brown. Colors of summer scars. 

“I jus’ don’t want you to die like a dog, Javi.”

You don’t move, you can’t. It takes a little time for him to breathe normally again. You can feel it against your chest, the scar on your neck. 

“Why?” his lips almost touch your shoulder. Somewhere in your body caterpillars transform into moths with palm-sized wings. 

“We have no one, just each other. Why die for a lost cause?”

You know he wants to say loyalty, but he doesn’t, in the end. He pulls back a little instead, gazing down at you like a lover. Like a killer. 

The moths are at your throat, digging into flesh, crawling out from that small scar when you ask, 

"Kiss me?" you try to whisper but it comes out as a weak question. 

His answer is a small smile, barely noticeable, and then his lips are on yours, chapped and warm and feeling like you've always imagined. Hunger crawls up inside you like a beast, so you open your mouth and let him in, almost choking on a groan when Javier kisses you harder. There's no air left between you, not a bare inch of distance and you think something breaks inside your chest when his eyelashes flutter against your cheek. 

There's teeth and there's tongue, and there's an insistent hand grasping your nape, nimble fingers cradling your head, sliding over your hair. You're a lost instrument and he plays you like the most finely tuned guitar, plucking your carefully built walls away until you're singing a string of sighs into his mouth. 

You shudder from it, pull away a little when the sighs want to turn into sobs. Christ. 

He watches you from under his dark lashes, eyes half-lidded and almost hazy. You've seen him being drunk before but this look is different. There's heat behind, a low fire burning in amber as you nudge his nose with yours and let him kiss you once more, softly this time. 

You’ve always mistook him for a romantic, but it’s more. Passion. Burning, untamed passion that scorches everything in it’s path, including you. It’s gonna be the end of him, you just know it. His passion in loyalty, music, killing—in loving in his own kid of way. 

The kisses turn into insistent hands gripping shirt-sleeves and tearing down buttons as Javier scrambles to his feet, reaches for you to follow. The shack you made your home for the night is just a few steps away, it’s walls eaten away by time and the weather and bugs, but it’s enough to take your weight as he pushes you against it next to the door inside, finally sheltered by some shade but still burning. 

You kiss him and he kisses you back and somewhere between it turns into a fight of fates, of opinions and worlds. He won’t let go of this, you won’t let go of yours. You’ll likely die with a bullet in your head, a noose around your neck, but together at least. Prey animals know they will die if a predator hunts. You know this won’t last forever, but right now, right now it feels like it might. 

Javier is not a romantic, but your idea of romance is warped anyway. You want this strange feeling of lightheadedness as he kisses your air away, this crawling feeling inside you as he smacks you against a wall once more, caging you in like a rare animal caught by scientists to study. A new species, a leech, a tick. Latching onto love, getting poisoned by the sickly sweet blood. 

You grab him by the neck and you turn, pressing him up against the only window until he yields. He grabs your shirt, pushes it off of your shoulder while you do the same with him, exposing dark skin and scars of the past. There’s no time to think. Love is an animalistic instinct and it drives your hands down his stomach, his navel, until his pants are open. 

Javier parts from you with a loud exhale and you fall to your knees.

You take him into your hand, your mouth, and soon after, into your throat. It's messy and tears bubble out the corners of your eyes when you take it a bit too far, but hell, you don't want to stop. Not when a loving hand slides over your left cheek and a thumb gently wipes away the wetness under your eye. Not when you feel calloused fingers buried in your hair, not when he whispers your name so reverently you feel like a god. 

There's drool on your chin and tears stinging the corners of your eyes but Christ, he's so beautiful like this, backlit by the scorching orange of the afternoon sun, his skin hot on your tongue and you don't want to stop. The shack's dirty window fogs around his back, even though the humid heat outside and sweat beads in the cradle of his hips, trying to hold himself back, trying to last for you. 

“Javi,” you whisper his name like a question, but then you take him back into your mouth, almost choking when he shudders against you. Your name sounds sweet when he tries to make you stop and it feels like now you are pressing a blade to his neck. 

He wrestles you off of him after that, pulls you up and pushes you onto the old mattress, covering your body with his until there’s no space left between. He wipes the drool off of your chin, licks into your mouth for another slow kiss. His hands slide over your chest, your belly where the callouses catch on star-shaped bullet wounds. You grind against each other, seeking friction, lost in the warmth and the touches and the slickness in Javier’s hand. 

You're both nothing, only bugs making love under the forgiving eyes of the sun, getting scorched on the dark rock you decided to tangle into each other. But Javier doesn't mind. He likes you even like this, bruised and broken and stepped on like a sad little cockroach. You're alive, and you have love to give. It's more than enough.

He touches a hand to your throat, traces a sticky finger over the small scar that's still there. You don't know if it's an apology or not, but his kiss after definitely is. 

Gutted bugs laying in the sun, the new thieves of the summer. If you die, you'll die free.

[neon-junkie]

May I ask for some headcanons on a male reader three way with Sean and Javier?

oh my god, what an interesting combo, but a welcome one >:3

Javier has no idea why he's doing this... sex with you? fantastic. But letting Sean join in? what is he thinking...?

Sean on the other hand LOVES this. He can't keep a straight face, he's all smiles and laughter, nudging and winking at Javier as you begin to undress.

"Look at him, strippin' off for us. Who would have thought? Eh? Me and you, Javi', sharing this piece of ass!"

Remember that mission where Arthur saves Sean, and Javier has to give Sean a lift on the way back? And he looks SO defeated as Sean hops on Boaz and begins nattering away? Javier has that same look right now...

"Sean, please... Let's just focus on him, alright? There's no need for pointless talking... please..."

It's going to be hard to find the perfect balance, but when you do, it's magical.

The best way to shut Sean up (and find true peace) is by going down on him. Give him a blowjob whilst Javier hits it from behind.

Sean will melt like putty in your hands, and Javier knows exactly what to do. It's the perfect combo!

Javier feeds you a lot of praise, whereas Sean eggs you on. Javier is the type to say "good boy" and "that's it, just like that." Whilst Sean is going "go on lad, just a little more!!" and "aah, keep doin' that for me, sweet cheeks."

But once Javier has came, Sean will want to finish inside you too. 'Sloppy seconds' as he calls it, unless if he fully falls apart and cums in your mouth.

[herbatalover]

Javier and John (separate) with a taller male s/o who has a habit of throwing them up in the air and spinning them when excited

Please and thank you

A/N: Decided to make it into headcannons because it'll be easier. Enjoy!

(English is not my first language! Apologies for any grammatical errors)

Up, up and away!

Javier/John x male reader headcannon

<<<<<<<<

Javier

He loves seeing you excited. You being excited makes him excited.

He does not, however, enjoy flying.

When you first threw him in the air, he was terrified. You just got back from a big mission. You managed to get a lot of money, and Dutch, as a reward, allowed you to keep a big part of it.

You were thrilled! You decided to share the news with Javier.

He didn't see you coming, so you ran up to him, picked him up and threw in the air.

You were way taller than him, so it was easy.

Hilarious too, seeing him screech and panick.

You started laughing when he came down, catching him and hugging close to yourself, spinning around.

That man clinged onto you for dear life.

When you finally told him what happened, he tried to be happy.

Well, he was happy, but he felt like he'll pass out.

When you eventually put him down, you had to hold him to steady him.

You had to give him a second before he could return your excitement.

After that, it started happening more often, but you made sure he realised you were coming.

A light tap on his shoulder, a hug and then you threw him in the air.

He was still terrified, but he found it fun as well.

Laughing happily, giving you a kiss on the lips when you caught him.

He tried to return the favour once.

Once.

He almost broke his back.

You made sure he won't try it ever again.

Overall, he's perfect for throwing in the air.

Very aerodynamic.

John

So the first time you did it didn't go as well as you hoped for.

Long story short, he threw up.

It was a similar situation that was with Javier, only that John saw you coming.

But he wasn't ready.

As soon as he got thrown into the air, he could feel the breakfast coming up.

He tried to calm his stomach when he landed in your arms.

But then you started spinning.

And oh God.

He's not used to getting thrown in the air. Carried, sure, but not thrown.

You were stunned.

He was embarrassed.

But thank God you just laughed it off.

If you're brave enough, even gave him a peck.

Yea it was disgusting, but you wanted him to know it's okay.

He appreciated it.

You helped him get cleaned up.

And he helped you.

Taking your clothes off was always his favourite part...

The next time it happened, he was prepared.

He didn't eat anything before that.

But when he realized that you were way more careful, he relaxed.

Started enjoying it even.

To the point he made you excited on purpose just so he could get the little spinning.

He loved the feeling.

And don't worry, the throwing up was only a one time event.

Okay it did happen again.

But he was drunk!

He was still smiling afterwards.

[livingdeadmlm]

Kinktober Day 2: Voyeurism with Javier Escuella

Pronouns: The reader isn't referred to as a man, but it is said that if they were to sleep with men, they could be in danger.

Physical Sex: can be any gender

How far are things going?: Not full-blow sex; however, both Reader and Javier are jerking off at the same time.

Warnings: jerking off, Javier being a pervert, the reader being into it. MDNI

Outline: Reader has been cought bu Javier before, but that dosent stop reader from having some me time again. Especially when they spot a fimilair shape around their tent late at night

What inspired me to write how I did: Nothing!

Other: If you have any characters you want featured this month send an ask! and i will try to fit them in as i am trying to write for more people this month!!

Long days can lead to even longer nights if you have the energy. But you didn’t have the privilege of bedding up with someone as you didn’t quite fancy women, and well if you attempted to ask another man, you were sure to be run out of town on a good day and worse on any other. So here you sat, aching in your tent alone. While some men were still dragging themselves around, most weren’t of a clear mind or even thinking of stopping by your tent. 

Your belt clinked lightly as you pulled off your heavy jeans. You kept your underwear on for plausible deniability in Case another incident occurred, like a few weeks ago. 

The campfire had almost been ash as you began to palm yourself through your jeans. It was hard to ignore your desire for virtually any of the men in camp. However, one man seems explicitly to always make comments about you. Javier. 

“Hey, Jefe! Are those new pants? Went out to spoil yourself, huh?” “Hey, why don’t you join me for a little knife play? It's getting boring just playing with myself.” When he played his music other times after the incident, he would always stare if you went to your tent, even for just a moment.

A night just like this one, except you two were the only ones in camp; you took the opportunity with great stride to get yourself off. You’d grown used to touching yourself in silence, but it never hurt to have the time to be able to moan and move around on your cot. The gentle guitar playing lets you know that 1. Javier was busy, and 2. There was some noise close enough to him to drown you out. So you started.

You yanked down your pants, pulling down your underwear to go to town on yourself. Oddly enough, the music Javier played helped you keep the rhythm. You were so in your mind imagining a man taking over and touching you himself and marking up your neck and taking a firm hold on your hair. A man kissing you with so much desperation that it felt like he wanted to be one with you. 

Soft moans escaped your mouth as you lost focus on everything else. Losing so much focus, you didn’t hear the music stop; you didn't see the shadow of Javier's body grow large against your tent before he made his entrance. “Amigo! Why don’t you join me by the fire-? OH SHIT.” He had fallen backward on his ass, yelling he was sorry in both languages he knew in a panic. You heard his footsteps retreat to the campfire and a bit farther. 

You sat up in your bed, pulling the wool blanket over yourself. You felt like you were on fire. You did not want him to see you like that when you two didn’t even spend much time together in the first place. Who goes from glances and longing stares when one didn’t have a shirt on to see the other jerk off? Javier. 

While you couldn’t fully indulge, being able to get any friction seemed to melt away the day's stress. The feeling of your hands being muffled by your underwear was a different type of pleaser that made you feel more desperate. The pit in your stomach got warmer as you imagined being walked in again; maybe this time, he’d step in and join you instead of walking out. Despite the work you all did, his lips looked soft, contrasting his strong nose and stern features. His hair is well taken care of and brushed daily to frame his face perfectly. A low groan escaped your throat. Since he has walked in on you, he gave you a new nickname, Jefe. You weren’t sure what it meant because when you had asked random city Spanish speakers you ran into, they looked at you confused. It means “Boss.” He had been teasingly calling you “boss,” which confused you for such a strong character he had. While you didn't take things lying down, you also weren't as overpowering as he was.

He also began giving you items of clothing he had for you to wear, such as his shawl, his red tie, and even his hat, which he got a kick out of. He’d almost get offended if you took it off. 

The soft glow of the lantern you kept outside your tent caught a shadow. Before panicking, you realized the figure was slowly moving outside your tent, a very familiar bowler hat being unmistakable. You couldn’t help but continue the touches as the figure settled beside your cot and sat on the outside floor. You let out a small moan, watching for movement and movement you saw.

Javier leaned back, making a small dent in your tent's wall, and from the sound of the fabric moving, you could tell he was also taking his pants off. The slight rattle of the chain that adorned his vest gave away the rhythm of his hand movement. You matched his movement, letting a low string of moans leave your mouth just for him to hear. Over the next few seconds, his boots scraped against the dirt, and an idea hit you. 

“Oh, Javier..!”

You saw his body tense, but his hand never stopped moving. You felt flushed. If he had been caught, would he want you to see? You didn’t want to ruin the illusion, so you kept at the small gasps and sounds. His choked breathing could be heard, with a slight wet sound that felt so dirty. His shadow showed that he had moved to his knees, one hand bracing himself against the ground. You couldn’t help but imagine being under him or on top of him. Were his eyes open? Half lidded? Or were they closed to focus on the noises you were making? Would he whine more if you were masturbating together?

You finally reached into your underwear to keep up with the speed he was going. You continued to moan his name before it became cries, and you finally came undone. Your legs felt weak as Javier let out a hushed moan. His pants slowed down, as did your own. His body slumped back down once again, leaning on your tent wall. You didn't want to speak to him directly and hoped his horned-up mind would ignore it. In your best sultry voice, you whispered, "Hmm, I should ask him to join someday.” You saw him perk up, slowly get up from his sitting spot, and stumble back to his tent for the night. You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at the idea of him joining you next time you wanted to have some alone time.

[thepuckishrogue]

Javier Escuella x M!Reader in: …and wake up slow~♪

NSFW ABCs || Q is for ‘Quickies’

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

↞ Previous: Take Some Time || P is for ‘Pace’

|| f!reader version | gn!reader version ||

|| ao3 version | abcs m.list | rdr m.list | writing blog ||

↠ Requested By: No one, naturally. ↠ Reader Gender: Male ↠ Content Type: Not-SFW, obviously. ((MINORS BEGONE!!)) ↠ CWs/TWs: None ↠ Total WC: ~1.7k

You let out a sleepy sigh as you push further into your man’s hand and the action earns a husky chuckle. Javier’s voice is, by far, one of your favorite things about him and when it’s thickened by sleep like this it is almost literally to die for. He knows this, of course—you’re hardly the first woman to express her appreciation—and ever as always he’s quick to press his advantage.

↠ In which Javier wakes you up for a little bit of fun before the day has its due.

Quickies || Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.

Personally I think he lives for them. Dude’s got a p. high sex drive and doesn’t do too well with dry spells when in a relationship. Honestly if things go past three days he’ll be climbing the goddamned walls lol.

Horny, but there’s only ten minutes before one of you has to go on guard duty? He’s all about that. Need to release a little steam after getting into it with some asshole? He’ll gladly bend you over the nearest surface and give you a little pick-me-up. In a Modern AU and you’re waiting for Steam to finish updating all your shit? Sit on his face in the meantime.

All that being said, he’s still a functioning adult that realizes that he cannot always get what he wants, when he wants, so he makes due, but know that the minute he’s able to jump your bones he’s gonna do so without hesitation.

As for which he likes more—he does prefer proper sex because, while quickies are fun and all, a session that short isn’t nearly enough time for him to love on you the way he wants to. Quickies are more akin to foreplay to him than anything; just something to take the edge off during the day and a preview of things to come.

…and wake up slow~♪ || WC: ~1.5k

💦 Tags: There’s nothing too crazy here, just a little early morning fun with Javier. Apparently he woke up feeling equal parts playful and horny and now Reader has to deal with it. What starts as a bit of banter quickly turns into some grinding and fingering (Reader receiving) before getting down to the get down lol. Dirty talk’s par the course with him, as is the sweetness that follows it all…

You’re in the middle of a light doze when you feel warm, callused fingers brushing against your nipple. At first you think it’s the last lingering vestiges of a subconscious longing-turned-dream trying to entice you to stay asleep, just a bit longer, but the heat of a familiar set of lips brushing against your nape sees that theory rapidly dissolving. You let out a sleepy sigh as you arch further into your man looking for more of his touch and the action earns a husky chuckle. Javier’s voice is, by far, one of your favorite things about him and when it’s thickened by sleep like this it is almost literally to die for. He knows this, of course—you’re hardly the first man to express his appreciation—and ever as always he’s quick to press his advantage.

The warmth of his breath against your skin is at odds with the chill that still lingers in the air as he whispers, “Buenos días, amor.”

“Mmm, good morning to you too, hermoso—or not…”

You’d been expecting to be greeted by the soft, pale light of a new day, but when you finally bring yourself to open your eyes you find that the sun has not yet risen high enough to pass through the canvas of your tent. Your irritated groan earns a laugh from the man at your back which in turn makes you pinch at the arm that’s pillowed beneath your head, though the sleepiness that still clings to your everything doesn’t allow you to put too much force behind it.

“Aww, come on now baby, don’t be that way.”

“Not even Grimshaw would be so cruel as to wake me up at such an ungodly hour, Javi.”

“True. I’m sorry, mi amor, I—baby! You gotta stop pinching me!”

You scoff at that. “No. I. Don’t.”

You punctuate each word with another little nip of your nails against his skin, though you don’t go hard enough to inflict anything harsher than a small sting. Laughing all the while, he abandons your nipple to still the offending hand. His fingers tangle with yours, giving a little squeeze before bringing your now joined hands to rest against your hip.

“Okay,” he starts as he props himself up with his free arm, “how about I make you a deal?”

“I’m listening…”

“To make up for waking you so early how about I make you cum, hmm? And breakfast,” he tacks on when you don’t immediately jump at the offer.

Your eyes narrow nearly to the point of closing, despite knowing it will go unseen, “Why do I get the distinct feeling that this was your plan all along?”

“Because you know me far too well, amor. So—how ‘bout it?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at your faux off-put tone, but even as his chuckles sound Javi gets to work. His eagerness is fueled by equal parts horniness and temporal constraints; in the short time since this all started the sky has slowly began to lighten which means that soon the earliest of risers among you will begin to stir.

He guides your hand down the length of your body until you’re grasping your cock, and you’re quick to touch yourself as he so clearly wants you to. The “Good boy” that he murmurs against the shell of your ear when he feels your hand working underneath his leaves you shivering more than the fingers that ghost over the swell of your ass. You can feel him shifting about behind you and within seconds you hear the familiar sound of a tin’s lid being removed. A slicked up finger slides between your cheeks and not for the first time are you grateful that Javi finally got you comfortable enough to sleep nude. After all, there’s no point in bothering with underwear that will definitely be coming off when it takes so damn long to get out of. With only the blanket there to keep you modest early morning romps are a treat rather than a lesson in patience.

Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, though the minute he presses against your puckered hole you go aflame. You sigh out his name when he finally pushes in, your lip coming back to wedge itself between your teeth as he slowly pumps in and out of you. When a second finger comes to join the first your breath grows heavy, and by the time he finally fits in a third you’re panting and grinding back into him. For his part, Javi has been rutting himself against you as much as the position will allow for, with mumbled curses and encouragement serving as his verbal contribution. By the time he presses himself against your entrance you’ve long since started to leak and are more than ready for him.

That initial push and stretch always leaves you moaning loud enough to raise the dead and this time is no exception. You turn your head into the arm that’s still under your head in an attempt to muffle your moan, though you’re sure that this has been done in vain as the needy sound seems to echo through the tent like a gunshot; at that same moment Javi hisses out a curse at the sensation of tight walls clenching around him so you’re in good company at least. Your leg becomes an anchor point for him where he holds it aloft as he pulls back as far as he can before slamming back into you with a ragged exhale. The pace he sets up is hard and fast, and his moaned words echo this.

Praise of the filthiest kind slips from between his lips, as well as a promise to rent a room in town sometime soon—“Maybe even later today– Fuck baby, you feel so good like this. Don’t want to leave you, just want to make you scream and cum for me over and over and fucking over again until you’re dripping with me and too tired to move.”

It’s nowhere near being the dirtiest thing he’s ever said to you, but there’s something about the picture that his words paint that nearly does you in. Your hand clenches around your dick just that little bit harder and the added pressure sees your hips bucking hard in response. His breathing goes ragged then, the harsh pants warm and dewy where they break against your skin. He urges you on, damn near begging you to fuck him back even as he lifts your leg higher to get in deeper and oh god you’re almost there, just a few more thrusts, one more tug and roll of hips and–

And then pleasure is breaking over you like a wave.

Your lover’s name leaves you in a gasp as you float in the bliss of your release. Javi follows soon after with a curse and a shudder, his hips moving seemingly of their own accord for a few seconds more before stilling completely. For a few long moments nothing can be heard outside of the beat of your heart and the deep, sated breaths of the man at your back. His breathing slows as he traces patterns against your skin, their design nonsensical and lazily drawn—And is he really trying to check out without feeding me?

As tempting as it is to just drift back off to sleep, you know that somebody’s going to come looking for you before long, and besides a deal is a deal.

“Now about my breakfast.”

“Of course, amor, I didn’t forget–”

“Un-huh.”

“–but I was kinda hoping you would,” he admits, laughing a bit. He asks you what you want then, which naturally leads to you asking for something overly elaborate and totally unrealistic just to make him laugh.

“So an apple, a couple of stale biscuits, and coffee then?” he asks once his chuckles have died off.

You shrugging reply of “Close enough” earns another snort.

Javier places a lingering kiss against your temple before dragging himself to his feet with a groan. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he pulls on a pair of pants and a shirt, the latter of which is buttoned just enough to keep it from flapping about as he moves—practical, but damn if you’re not mourning the loss of all those planes lean muscle and pretty skin.

“Pearson’s got more eggs than he knows what to do with,” he starts as he slips into his shoes, “I’ll see what I can do with a few of them.”

Your replying hum is heavy with the sleep that is steadily pulling you under. His next sentence is lost to you, though a gentle brush of fingers against your cheek leaves you smiling as you finally allow slumber to claim you once more.

Up next: A Hunter’s Prey || R is for ‘Risk’

It’s like something straight out of a horror movie, this scenario that you’ve willingly put yourself in. You, a professional victim fleeing for their life. He, a hunter diligently seeking out his prey. Not that he has to look too hard, mind. You’re hardly a master of stealth.

↠ In which you take a not-so-leisurely stroll through the forest with Mister Escuella. || A Modern AU

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2020 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[reddeadunredeemable]

Javier + Drunk for the nsfw prompt please

Javier + Drunk

NSFW Javier X M!Reader

It's a party, so of course everyone at camp is drinking. Eventually, Javier's guitar playing fades out and is replaced by Charles's drunken harmonica racket and a chorus of mismatched siging.

Javier wobbles over to you and takes you by the hips, pulling you close. You fall into him, giggling and he bursts out laughing. The both of you are happy drunks and he plants a kiss on your lips. He tastes of tequila, and the kiss isn't as gentle and practised as it would usually be. Javier's drunk kisses are a little sloppy. He gropes your ass and mumbles something about a quickie.

You both stumble back to a tent, hopefully one of yours, and collapse onto the bedroll. With fumbling haste, you tug at each other's clothes. When the clumsy undressing is done, Javier will put you on all fours and take you from behind. When sober, he would normally fluff you up with foreplay first and tease until you were begging, but drunk Javier is not as smooth or as patient.

Tonight, in a drunken haze, he ruts into you and jerks you off desperately. He babbles at you in Spanish as he hits your prostate, his cock throbbing inside you, eager for gratification. Despite his alcohol intake, he's still incredible at this, driving you to orgasm in his hand. This doesn't stop either of you, and you keep going, again and again. He cums inside you, he cums on your back, he flips you over and does it on your stomach. More times than you can count, Javier changes position and starts fucking you senseless all over again. He leaves wet and messy kisses all up and down your neck whilst you moan his name for all the camp to try and ignore. He bites and sucks at your skin, littering you with hickeys. Usually, he would talk dirty, but you don't mind the absence tonight.

You pull at his hair, accidentally taking out his neat ponytail and he laughs a little. It looks good, dripping with sweat, and you tell yourself inwardly to remember this sight tomorrow. Javier is focused on other things, licking and biting excessively at your nipples, tugging your cock as if he's never done it before, slamming into you at ever so slightly the wrong angle. The whole affair is clumsy, and you claw at his back, practically screaming. It's still perfect.

Eventually, the person whose tent you're actually in (whoops, guess you were too drunk to walk into the right one) comes in and yells at you both for banging in their space. Javier lifts you up and walks out with you, taking you into the bushes to carry on until both of you pass out.

[sweetjuniperandboiledsatan]

Chapter 27 - Little Jackie Boy Fit as a Fiddle

Full story here: Not a Doctor, Not an Angel Either Rating: M Pairing: John Marston x F!Reader; Javier Escuella x F!Reader Word count: 35,852 Chapters: 27/41 Warnings: Sexual content, mention of alcohol and cigarettes

“Jackie, sweetheart, could you open wide and say ‘aaah’ for me?” Your tone was gentle but cautious, acutely aware of his mother's presence behind you. In between exchanging nothing but a few civil and polite greetings and having to give her a full report on her son’s current state of health and wellbeing, you were uncertain about what was going on in her mind right now.

Jack hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and the window. You have been at it for a few minutes now (which probably felt like hours to the little boy). He may as well be wondering when you’d stop with all the poking and prodding so he can go back to playing.

“Alright,” you sighed, easing back and giving him a reassuring smile. “You're all set.”

You made a gesture to fish in your pockets before saying “I’m sorry, Jackie, I don’t think I have any more lollies for you right now. I’ll make sure to go get you some when I head out…”

Your voice trailed off as Jack made a dash for the door, but his mother was quicker. “Hold on, not so fast! What do we say?” she gently reminded him. Jack paused, looking slightly sheepish, “Thank you,” he muttered before racing off. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he did.

“That boy,” she said with a shake of her head, her blue eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement. For a moment, you swore any animosity she had towards you was almost non-existent.

You cleared your throat, and Abigail shifted her attention back to you.

“Your boy’s fine,” you began, with as much confidence as you can muster. “Jack is healthy, fit as a fiddle. All the signs point to a strong recovery, and I've found no cause for concern.” You took a deep breath, gauging her reaction. “I know how awfully worrisome it can be as – as a mother, given all that’s happened.” Your thoughts strayed, burdened by the weight of guilt that has clung to you since you lost him in Clements Point.

“But I promise, he's doing well. He'll be back to his usual antics in no time.” You tried to offer a comforting smile, praying it would alleviate some of the tension that hung in the air between you two.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her voice faltering. Uncertain of how to respond, the creaking of the door pulled both of you from the moment.

“Everything alright here?” John’s voice broke through just as the room was settling into an uneasy silence. As he stepped in, his eyes darted between you and Abigail, slightly taken aback at the scene. His posture stiffened noticeably, perhaps at the sight of you and Abigail – talking, actually talking.

Growing more uncomfortable by the second, you prepared to take your leave. With a polite nod to Abigail and a somewhat restrained glance at John, you turned your heel and headed towards the door.

The door swung closed behind you, leaving you in the hallway outside. An unshakable feeling gnawed at you. You knew too well what it was; it had been lingering for quite some time.

It would easily dissipate, especially in moments of John’s ardent lovemaking – when he held you just a little bit longer afterward, burying his face in the crook of your neck and planting soft kisses as he did. Unfortunately, it would resurface the morning after when he’s back with Jack and Abigail.

You thought yourself a fool for ever thinking it would go away, but it never did – not since that night of Jack’s return; not since the sight of all three of them together by the campfire, as the others obnoxiously sang and drank and danced the night away.

You descended the stairs, each step a stark reminder of each passing moment John stayed in that wretched room, and you thought, a dreadful realisation, Jack started to increasingly look like John each passing day.

*

(Flashback)

It was a hot and humid evening. The moon cast a glow over the swamp. You and John had finally found some time alone, perched on a fallen log by the water’s edge.

‘I’m sorry about what happened to Jack, John. I truly am. I shouldn’t have let that happened.’ You finally spoke. The apology had been festering within you for a while, but the right moment had never presented itself.

John drew a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dark. He exhaled a plume of smoke and looked at you with confusion and concern. ‘What the hell you saying sorry for?’ He grumbled as he flicked his spent cigarette into the dark murky waters.

‘It ain’t your fault,’ he continued, his raspy voice softening as he realised you had been carrying the weight of the whole ordeal for some time now. It pained him to see you this way.

‘This life, it ain’t for a kid – any kid should go through,’ he said before a few moments of silence settled between you once more.

‘I did plenty of things, bad things in my life, that I very much regret, and the poor kid’s paying for it.’

‘I should’ve been there for him – for the both of you’s.’ He bitterly admitted.

His past mistakes hung heavy him. His voice was filled with remorse, as he continued, ‘I can’t change the past, [Y/N]. I’ve never been a good father to Jack, but I’ll be damned if I let that continue.’

‘I’ll – I’ll find a way to make things right, somehow.’ He spoke before drifting back to his own thoughts.

You gave him a comforting smile before resting your head on his shoulder, and John was quick to give you a kiss on the forehead as you did. While pride welled within you at your lover’s newfound determination, uncertainty loomed in your thoughts, like a gathering storm on the far-off horizon – where do you fit in all of this?

*

As you made your way down, the heavy thud of John's footsteps echoed behind you. He quickened his pace, seemingly eager to catch up with you. Yet, the prospect of engaging in a conversation with him, let alone seeing his face again, was not exactly what you were in the mood for this morning.  You made for a discreet exit through the backdoor instead, hoping to evade his notice.

Outside, you sighed and found yourself interrupted immediately by Arthur and Sadie. Their spirits this morning contrasted sharply with your unease.

“Oh, hello.” You greeted them, a tinge of nervousness in your voice.

“Anything bothering you, Ma’am?” Arthur asked.

“No, nothing at all, Mr. Morgan,” you replied, trying to regain your composure. “Would you mind if I joined you two for a bit?”

“No Ma’am. Not at all.” Arthur replied warmly as he made some space for you in the group.

You settled with them, not really joining in on their conversation. Sadie turned her attention back to Arthur. She pressed him on about taking her with him on their next robbery, but it was only met with Arthur’s hearty chuckle of dismissal.

“Ms. Adler.” You interjected, breaking their conversation.

Both of them immediately stopped talking, their eyes fixed on you in anticipation.

“I was wondering if you’d be kind enough to teach me,” you hesitantly requested the older woman.

“Teach you what, sweetheart?” Sadie enquired.

“To shoot… uhm with guns,” you stammered, feeling a blush creeping over your cheeks.

“Didn’t Javier already tried to teach you?” Arthur reminded you.

You lowered your head slightly, your face reddening. "That didn't exactly work out, Mr. Morgan."

"I'm sorry, honey. I don't think I can," Sadie responded as-a-matter-of-factly.

You nodded, a bit flustered, and bid the two of them goodbye.

Arthur, sensing an opportunity to share crucial information, turned to Sadie. "I don't know if anyone's told you yet.”

“But you’re after the same people who killed her father," he confided.

Sadie's expression shifted her frustration apparent. "No, Arthur. No one told me that. No one in this gang tells me a goddamned thing about anything."

“Hey, [Y/N].” Sadie beckoned for you to come back. With some hesitation, you approached them once more.

"Okay," Sadie said, her voice confident and determined this time around. "I'll teach you how to shoot."

***