#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!!!

Previous Part or Next Part

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!!

[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.

[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.

[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…

[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]

You Bring Me Closer to God pt5

Pronouns: The reader is referred to as a man. 

Physical Sex: AMAB. 

How far are things going?: These are the sex dreams the men are having about the priest reader!!

Warnings: Praise kink (Kiernan), Degradation kink (Kieran), Oral fixation (Dutch), Thigh fucking (Charles), rimming (Arthur), oral sex (Arthur), wet dreams (All). Riding (Hosea,Javier)

Outline: After hearing rumors about who you used to be the men all have odd dreams about the rumors.

What inspired me to write this is: That awful preist romance book I got.

Other: This is a harem romance! so all these dreams did happen and I will refer to them in the future!!

Previous Part or Next Part

Kieran was working in a stable he didn’t recognize. Brushing a horse, he also did not recognize it at first glance. The scent of hay was strong in his mind as a light breeze rolled in. Brushing the horse's fur in front of him, he looked closer and recognized the slight patterns; it was your horse! A beautiful creature he’d admire when walking past it. He’s never taken care of it before. Though he had often thought about offering to help care for it, his nerves seemed to tighten around him like a vice grip whenever you were around, leaving him speechless.

Your horse stood calmly, enjoying the comforting strokes of the brush. Soft neighs filled the stable as the animal leaned into Kieran’s touch, encouraging him to continue. A gentle smile crept across Kieran's face as the horse nuzzled affectionately against his hands, seeking more attention.

Just then, your voice broke through his moment of tranquility. “Hey there, stable boy!” enunciating your words, you appeared in the doorway, a playful smirk lighting up your face as you leaned casually against the wooden post that separated you from the pen.

Kieran's heart raced at the sound of your teasing tone. He chuckled nervously, trying to maintain his composure. “Oh! Hi there, Father (Name)! Just, uh, checking up on (Horse Name) here!” Stable boy? You’d never call him that. You were always so polite to him. It’s what he cherished most about being around you.

“Not causing any trouble, I hope. He’s usually such a good boy,” you said, extending a hand towards the horse, who affectionately pressed his head against your palm.

“Uh, no! He’s been very nice this whole time—really! Very comfortable with brushing,” Kieran replied, attempting to sound more at ease as he softly patted the horse’s flank. Just then, the gate clicked open, and you entered the pen with a grace that took him by surprise. Instinctively, Kieran shifted slightly behind the horse.

You had never been so assertive with him before, and the sudden change left him flustered and intrigued. Conflicting emotions swirled within him as he tried to gauge your intentions, and his heart fluttered at the new way you were treating him.

“What about you, stable boy? Have you been behaving like a good boy?” Your voice pierced the air, cutting through the thick tension around him. Kieran's heart raced, and he felt the telltale beads of sweat form on his palms.

“No! Uh, um, I mean, yes? I, I think I’ve been well-behaved!” You waved your hand dismissively as you shooed your horse out of the pen, its hooves softly clattering on the ground. Kieran watched, feeling oddly vulnerable now that he couldn’t hide behind the sturdy figure of the horse.

As you approached, he felt exposed under your gaze, as if you could see right through his clothes, though his skin past his bones to his soul. Your eyes seemed to devour him, detailing every quirk and tremor of his being, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Ohh, that makes me so happy to hear,” you said sweetly, your hand reaching out to glide through his dark hair with an almost electric gentleness. The soothing sensation of your fingers weaving through his strands sent a wave of warmth through him, and without thinking, a soft whine slipped from his lips; he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He leaned into your hand, instinctively closing his eyes to absorb the calming strokes fully. Time seemed to stretch, the world around him fading as he finally surrendered to the moment.

“Hm? What’s this, stable boy? Not trying to steal, are you?” Your fingers tightened in his hair, a firm grip that jolted him back to reality. Kieran's eyes flew open wide with surprise, and he followed your accusatory point right to his erection.

“I ain’t stealing, Father (Name), honest!” Panic tinged his voice; shaky and breathless, he was panting. He didn’t want you angry at him, not at all! The thought of disappointing you was unbearable.

“What’s this then, huh?” Your finger light ran over his erection, causing it to jump slightly. “It’s- it’s nothin’!! I promise I ain’t stealing!” Your eyes squinted at Kieran; he was practically shaking in your hands, eyes blown out wide but not trying to leave your hold.

You scoffed, “Pull ‘em down then; an innocent man will have nothing to hide.” Your grip on his hair stayed the same, and his face only got more red and heated.

Finally dropping the horse brush, shaking hands, he undid his trousers. Kieran wanted to curse at himself for how fast he was to listen to you. His instincts told him to get away, but he knew you wouldn’t hurt him. At least he liked to think you wouldn’t. It was against your nature.

His union suit didn’t do much to hide his hard-on. His pants pooled around his ankles. Your eyes burned into your skin, taking in the sight.

“Do you mind?” Your fingers played with the buttons of his union suit. He whined again, shaking his head no, his blue eyes glued to the movement of your hand as you undid each button. With every pop, the fabric parted slightly, revealing hints of skin beneath

His cock sprung out, buttons no longer holding it in. The hand holding his hair softened at the same time your expression did.

“Aww, just look at that,” you said, a gentle smile across your face. “I knew you weren't lying to me, Kieran. You’re such a good and sweet boy.” Your voice was soft and reassuring as you leaned in to kiss his forehead, your fingers tenderly caressing his hair, soothing him with your touch.

As you pressed another kiss to his cheek, you felt the warmth of his skin grow even hotter beneath your lips, a sign of the emotions swirling within him. Kieran’s eyes reflected a mix of confusion and longing. He was grappling with the tenderness you showed him; it felt unfamiliar yet comforting.

Your gentle affection contrasted with the sharpness of your earlier words, leaving him feeling vulnerable and a bit breathless. His knees felt weak as if he were standing on uncertain ground.

Your hand left his hair, “how about a reward? For being such a good and loyal stable boy?” you cooed, fingers ghosted over his weeping cock, a small pearl forming over the slit.

Kieran nodded quickly, feeling so much more sensitive than ever before. Finally wrapping your hand around his hard-on, Kieran threw his head back, slightly stumbling backward into a stack of hay bales. You giggled and pressed his back into the hay, following his staggered movements.

Your touch felt like heaven to him as you kissed his cheek again. Your hand took a slow pace, and with each pass of your hand, his mind grew more and more fuzzy. Your words felt more like you again, much softer and kinder to him.

Your kisses reached his neck with short licks in between, leaving him in a brain fog; how did you know how to do this? Kieran's hand reaches for your shoulder for support, finding it hard to hold himself up as time passes. Your hand speeds up,

Your hand was the softest thing he had ever felt, second only to your kiss on his lips. It felt like he was rutting into a cloud with each twitch of his hips. Each whine and whimper caused his mouth to open slightly, allowing your tongue to slip in. The brush of his beard against your chin was faint. Your hand changed positions taking the head of his cock in your hand to concentrate more on the tip, bullying the much more sensitive area. It practically knocked the wind from his chest as his stomach tightened. “Please! Father (Name)! I can’t hold on much longer!” Your breath was light against his own; you were so collected, the lone thing keeping Kieran up.

His face was one of pure bliss; only moans left his mouth as he spilled against your hand. His vision was blurry from tears, and he tried to take in the sight before stirring awake.

He audibly groaned, looking at the scout fire, which was mostly out by now, and the sun had not touched the sky yet. Panting, Kieran sat up, embarrassed by such a dream at his age. Looking over the camp, he noticed Hosea and Dutch also awake. They were never up so early. He knew Charles Arthur and Javier had to go off on some mission very early, but they seemed much more restless than normal, and they began to head out.

Dutch stood at the back of the crowded church, his gaze drifting through the sea of faces. The line for communion was quick, each second shorter than the last. In front of him, Molly stood with a slight sway to the organ's rhythm, her movements drawing his attention, though it didn't last as he couldn't quite understand why. He wasn't the religious type.

He'd never felt the need for communion or the body and blood of Christ. So why was he here?

But then the line inched forward, and with it, his pulse quickened. And there you were.

You weren't entirely in focus at first—his mind flickering between the present you and the photo of you at 22 when a playful smirk had danced across your lips as you poured wine into Molly's mouth. What stayed with him the most was how your eyes never left his, even as you'd served her. The smoke from his cigar flowed from his lips into the air around him, the smoke not hotter than the gaze you had, pulling him in.

He felt a jealous bubble in his chest as Molly bowed her head, whispering a small “Amen,” hands folded and walked away. Sure, the two haven’t shared a bed since Colter, but damn it, she was still his.

Dutch was next, and your smile only got wider, eyes shifting.

Closing your eyes when taking the wafer was customary, but your eyes stayed open. Dutch looked around, and everyone seemed to have their eyes closed, heads ducked in prayer, except for the two of you. Dutch took the cigar from his lips, holding it in his dominant hand.

Dutch was reluctant to close his eyes, his heart pounding, squeezing them shut; he opened his mouth. He couldn't stand to look in your eyes any longer. The dry taste of the communion wafer touched his tongue, but his fingers stayed. Daring to open an eye, your face hovered inches away from Dutch.

“No smoking in church, Mister Van Der Linde,” you whispered, eyes so deep pulling him in, rooting his legs to the spot.

He couldn't move, not as your hand reached for a cigar or when the wafer had long dissolved, and the only thing he could taste was you.

“If you need something between your lips that bad.” you purred, voice as smooth as silk as you took the cigar from his hand, bringing it to your lips.

His eyes were stuck on you, hypnotizing. Nothing even existed beyond your lips around the cigar. Nothing else mattered as your lips parted and you sucked in the smoke, slow and deliberate. Letting the smoke linger in your mouth, and the woody flavors sink into your tongue.

Your fingers pressed flat against his tongue, stroking the wet muscle as you blew the flavorful smoke in Dutch's face. “We can work out a deal.”

He was caught in its haze, the sweet burning smell attacking each of his senses. But just under the familiar taste of the cigar was you, breathing in you. You were his air.

Your fingers left his mouth, his tongue without him knowing it, had wrapped around your fingers, causing a small string of drool to follow.

You placed the cigar back into his mouth before waving as the line continued. Dutch felt like he was wearing iron shoes, each step like a drag away from you. He sucked on the cigar a bit harsher as he sat back next to Molly, staring at her lap, which was toying with the thin pages of a Bible.

He could taste you within the tobacco leaves. The more of you he could taste, the more his stomach tightened. The stiff wood made his back uncomfortable as he stirred.

Their eyes shot open, and he slightly labored breathing as he sat up from his cot. Glancing over, Molly's sleeping figure was still. Dutch sighed and stepped out of the tent to look at the sky. It was so early the sun hadn’t even begun rising.

Scanning the camp, he nodded to Hosea, who was awake and sitting on a nearby crate. He could see Kieran tossing in his sleep if he narrowed his eyes. But the sound of Charles Javier and Arthur packing for their trip stole his attention.

Each man rubbed their eyes in exhaustion as they stood up from their crouching position, bidding Dutch a good morning as they made their way out of camp.

Arthur lay there, staring at the stars, the weight of the rumors hangin' heavy on his chest. He knew deep down they weren’t true—couldn't be. He was the only one who'd ever talked to you like that, ever shared that kind of talk with you. And you’d told him, real clear-like, that you'd never done any of that before—unless you’d been pulling the wool over his eyes.

But still, the damn rumors floated around like a smoke cloud. It gnawed at him, eating away at his peace of mind. It made him wonder if you were just trying to make yourself seem spotless and clean as a saint because of how you now held yourself. The thought twisted his stomach as he tried to get a few hours of sleep before heading out to find Sean.

But Arthur was restless, tossing in his cot. The thought of you kept stirring in his head, messing with his focus. He knew rumors would be whispered about in camp; he had a few. But this time, it felt different; they weren’t talking about him, and his behavior changes were odd or concerning.

They were about you, which made his blood boil in a way he hadn’t expected. You, of course, hadn’t seen Arthur, but he saw you. He’d seen you walk through town many times before he’d ever stepped foot into the church after Reverend practically pushed him through the door. He’d stare at you as you donated money to anyone asking, even if they looked like they’d spit on any dollar you handed. He’d never see you take the change when buying something unless it was shoved back into your hand.

He even remembered laughing as you stood, keeping a door open for almost two minutes because people kept walking into the saloon. Maybe it wasn’t the rumors bothering him so much, but the idea that you’d want to hide things from him. That you might think he’d judge you for your past, for things you couldn’t change. He was the last person in the world who should judge you, and he would be the last to have a bad thing to say. Arthur did everything for survival, which eventually became a muddy reason for him, but you were trying to get through each day. The thought still couldn’t leave his mind; he needed to clear the air with you. Finally, look into your eyes and meet you. He’d have to do it soon. He wasn’t going to go back to Blackwater, risk his head coming off before you even got to see it.

He got up from the cot; it had only been a few hours since he left the booth and bid you goodnight. If you were awake, he had no clue. The moonlight washed over his skin as he rode his horse to the church. The only people awake in Valentine were too drunk to see their own two feet as he hitched his horse and made his way up the steps.

At the front of the church, you were kneeling at the steps, hands clasped, your rosary between your hands, eyes shut. You looked so serene, so… far away. Arthur stepped forward slowly, the same pace he’d use when hunting deer. You tensed up when you heard the footsteps, eyes flicking over to him as you rose. “Oh! Hello, Sir,” Your voice is soft and warm. “Is everything okay?” Your eyes were so delicate as you looked at him, cradling him with your eyes as you stayed a foot away from him, unsure how close to get. Arthur stood there for a long moment, staring at you, his jaw tight. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “Got a minute?”

Your eyes went wide, and you held your hands to your chest. “I always do for you.” Arthur took a step closer, his boots stopping right before you. He could feel his hands shaking but forced himself to stay steady. "I heard the whispers," he said, keeping his voice even though its edge was hard to ignore. "People talkin’ about you..."

Your eyes fell. You didn’t flinch. But he saw the slightest shift, the way your shoulders tensed. You looked away, fingers tight around the fabric of your robes. “Arthur, I—” “No," he interrupted, his voice sharp now, almost desperate. "I ain't askin’ for explanations you ain't ready to give, but I need to know somethin'. I need to know where you stand 'cause all this—" He waved a hand at the town just behind him, at the rumors, at the whispers, at his frustration seeping through his skin—“ain’t sittin’ right with me.”

You hesitated, and for a moment, Arthur thought you might turn away. But then you met his gaze, your eyes soft but heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. “I didn’t want this,” you said quietly, almost like a confession. “Didn’t want anyone thinkin’ that about me.” Your voice faltered, but you didn’t back down. “I never did anything wrong, but people in this rotten town don’t want the truth.”

Arthur’s heart pounded. “What truth?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. He was a fool to be standing here, asking these questions, but there was no going back now.

Your body sank, the weight of the world in your eyes. “I’ve dealt with some wretched men in this town, each and every one of them leaving the church with a black heart when I refused them.”

Arthur couldn’t stand the distance between you anymore. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it gently on your shoulder, grounding you, steadying you. "I never asked for this, Arthur. But it’s all I’ve known." your voice trembled, “These robes, these stories I grew up with. I gave up my freedom for this… life. It hardly started before it got ripped away from me.” You fell into Arthurs's arms, breathing unevenly as he held you up.

The world around him began to crumble as he held your face to look at him. His thumb traced your jaw, and your skin was so soft against his hands. The only audible sound was the light popping from the many candles in the church. Arthur thought you could hear his heartbeat.

He didn’t pull away, nor did you; his gaze lingered on your lips, drawn to them like a man desperate for water. He was so close now, close enough to feel your skin's warmth and hear your breathing. He hadn’t been this close to someone who needed him just as much as he needed them in years. How you looked at him—soft and with watery eyes—made him want to hold, protect, and kiss you.

He couldn’t stop himself now. He had to know if you felt the same hunger he did. His breath mingled with yours, and he held your hips against his. The kiss was tender as your eyes fluttered shut. The ache in your body was unmistakable to him. When you leaned into him instead, Arthur’s chest tightened, and he deepened the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, cradling you to him like he couldn’t get close enough.

With a low groan, he swept you off your feet, your legs wrapped around his hips as he slowly placed your back against the worn seat of the wooden pew. His mind felt hazy with longing like he was melting into you. The skirt of your cassock rode up, and the pants you wore under were a thin fabric that left nothing to his imagination. A sliver of your stomach was visible, his rough hands immediately attached to the area, tracing his fingers across your warm skin.

He'd never even seen your arms before, so this was not something he’d let slip away. Both of your hearts raced as he pressed his chest to yours. His fingers slipped under the fabric of your cassock, tracing up the line of your spine. “Arthur…” The way his name escaped your lips felt like worship; it sent a thrill through his body.

His lips found your neck, warm and tender, he could feel your pulse under his teeth. Tilting your head, offering yourself to him fully. He sucked a mark into your neck, rolling his hips against yours, hands, and pulling up your cassock, leaving more of your torso exposed. The cool air against your body made you shiver as his lips met yours again without hesitation. He was urgent and desperate for you. Running your hands through his hair, his hat fell off, landing on the floor beside you both.

His hands went back to your waist, tracing each bump and curve of your body, committing it to memory as if this would be the last time he ever held you. His fingers trailed down your stomach, and a soft gasp left you as he did, causing him to falter for just a moment. “Is this alright?” His voice was harsh but breathless, waiting for any indication that it was okay that you were okay. You nodded, unable to speak. Your hands pulled him back in for a kiss. He chuckled against your lips, teasing the button of your pants. Part of him wanted just to rip them off; the fabric was thin enough to get away with it.

“Do you want this? Do you want this as much as I do?” You whined at Arthur’s words nodding quickly.

Letting you go from both of his arms for just a second, he tore off your pants and quickly did the same with his own. Pressing hot kisses and bites across your stomach, Arthurs's head sunk to your ass, gently pressing around the rim of your ass with his tongue coaxing you tetween each press of his tongue. Arthur was falling apart trying to pace himself to not come just from your noises and thighs squeezing his head. He was surrounded by you in the best way he could imagine licking away at your hole, pleased noises leaving Arthur as if this was the best thing in the world.

Arthur moved one of his hands down to grab your thigh, pushing it up to give his face better access, resting your knee over his shoulder Arthur snaked his tongue inside. Your cries only got louder and more desperate but nothing could pull Arthur away. Not even his cock leaking onto the pew, begging for attention.

Arthurs pressed his tongue in deeper and moaned at the taste, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs which trembled at all the new sensations from Arthurs hands and tongue.

“Arthur! I, I can't please!” Arthurs pace stayed the exact same, driving you crazy.

Arthur's eyes squinted open, the cot he was on groaned at his movements as he went to sit up properly. Javier was just waking up as well. Charles turned onto his side stretching with a yawn. Arthur didn't have the time to break down such a weird dream. It all felt too real even if it made no sense.

Boots thudding against the dirt ground he began to pack, Sean needed a rescue. The dream could take the back burner for the next few days. He bid Dutch and Hosea a good morning as he stuffed his satchel with bullets. It will be a long day.

As Hosea stepped inside, he found the church empty. He had intended to ask something, but when he saw you leaning against the pulpit, your face intensely focused as you flipped through the Bible's pages, he forgot what he had come to ask.

“Good evening, Mister Matthews! What brings you here?” The steel pen in your hand stopped writing as you stayed leaned over the wooden stand. Hosea scratched his chin, trying to remember.

“Well, to be frank with you, Father (Name), I don’t quite remember!” you both laughed lightly. Hosea attempted to take his eyes off your hips and the curve of your back, but it was futile as you seemed to lean down even further.

“You know what, Mister Matthews? I’ve been having some trouble! Could you follow me?” You pushed away from the pulpit and gestured toward a door down the hallway. He followed you as you spoke, “This drawer hasn’t been coming out fully. I think it’s jammed, but I’m unsure how to fix it!”

As you opened the door, Hosea realized that this was your room—your sanctuary, with the smell of incense and you.

“It’s this one here,” you said quietly, pointing to the lower drawer, your brow furrowed in concentration. You bent down to tug at the stubborn metal handles, and Hosea couldn’t help but watch, his eyes tracing the line of your back. He cleared his throat, his voice strained. “Uh-huh.” He felt his pants grow tighter, a warm flush creeping over him.

Slipping off his coat, he draped it over your bed and crouched beside you, eager to help. The drawer was stubbornly jammed, resisting your efforts to pull it free. He’s never claimed to be good at fixing things, but he couldn’t deny your sweet face to at least try. After a few tries and a gentle adjustment of the wheels back onto the steel bearings, he finally managed to free it.

With the drawer now open, you gestured toward the bed. “You’ve earned a seat,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. As Hosea sat down, you perched beside him, your legs brushing ever so slightly. You mentioned your bed frame, its robust and well-made design standing the test of time; after all these years, it had never cracked.

You sat on the mattress, the soft fabric beneath you inviting and warm. As you wiggled the headboard with a playful grin, Hosea couldn’t help but admire how your eyes sparkled with mischief. His words slipped out before he could catch them, a teasing jab at the moment. “Well, of course, there’s no cracks or breaks; not like you’re doing anything to risk breaking it.”

The shocked surprise on your face quickly morphed into a sulky pout, and Hosea found himself captivated. That expression was one he could never resist. “There are more things that can break a bed, Mister Matthews!” you retorted, your tone playful yet challenging. Slowly, he leaned closer, and so did you. Each beat of his heart was one inch of distance closing. “I think,” he said, his voice low and filled with intent, “there’s a lot more than just the bed that can be tested tonight.”

the distance between you closed, and his lips found yours in a slow, tentative kiss. Testing the waters as your eyes fluttered shut. Your fingers brushed his jaw, tracing the roughness of his stubble. Hosea’s heart raced; he hadn’t been with anyone like this in a very long time. His thumb now grazing the curve of your cheek, committing the softness to memory.

He could taste a faint sweetness in your breath as you pulled back just slightly, your eyes having a mischievous glint to them, “You truly are a charmer, Mister Matthews.” Hosea smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting, brushing any hair from your face. The scent of your incense lingered in the air as you leaned forward again. This kiss was more desperate as you pressed a hand against Hosea's chest, running a thumb against the fabric.

Hosea felt every brush of your lips and your hand against his body. His hands slipped down to your chest, undoing the button of the caplet you occasionally wore with your cassock. The small fabric fell from your torso as he went for the stiff white collar you had. He wasn’t sure what it was called but carefully placed it on your bedside table. His nimble fingers made quick work of each button, and his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, pressing kisses that made you whine against him. Your hands landed on his soft, silver hair, gently tugging at it. His ability to be fully present in the moment began to sway as every piece of clothing the two of you wore was shed.

You were on top of him now; your warmth surrounded him, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last with each rock of your hips. Each moan and groan landed on deaf ears The soft glow from the candles in your room surrounded the space behind you, like a halo around your body. You were like an angel as the pressure in his body finally gave way.

Taking a deep breath, Hosea sat up from his bedroll on the floor. The purple hues from the sky were still there as he woke up. Bill passed out nearby, snoring. Hosea got half-dressed before sitting on a nearby crate; he didn’t want to sit on the wet ground.

He noticed Kieran twitch in his sleep before hearing a groan from Dutch nearby tent. The tent flap opened, and Dutch stepped out with a grunt and nodded toward Hosea.

Arthur, Charles, and Javier all woke up at the same time, looking like they didn’t sleep a wink. Hosea grabbed a nearby book, pretending to read the pages as he reflected on his dream momentarily. Clearing his throat, he attempted actually to read.

Javier’s feet ached as he made his way through the quaint town, the dirt roads reflecting a light he felt he should recognize, yet he was sure he had never been here before. The soft chatter of townsfolk and the distant laughter of children playing filled the air, but the sounds felt distant, like echoes from a world he once knew but could not recall.

As he climbed the gentle incline towards a church perched on the hill, a sense of familiarity washed over him, stirring something deep within. Tall and proud, the church stood with its weathered stones and sun-kissed spire. That's when he saw you. The usual modest long sleeve and skirt you wore were now replaced with short sleeves and fitting slacks. Your hands were covered in gardening gloves as you tended to a bed of flowers.

Javier's mind began to untangle memories. Growing up in Mexico, the church played a pivotal role in the fabric of life for most families. Yet, a shadow loomed over his nostalgia, for the beginnings of that connection were marred by hardship and plenty of loss.

He had often considered the life he was forced to abandon, the severed family ties, and the unfulfilled dreams. Each day carried the weight of that sacrifice, a reminder of everything he had left behind and the bittersweet memories that haunted him. Even now, as he stood before the church, his heart ached.

“Hola, Father.” Javier adjusted the sack on his back, leaning on his hip.

“Good morning, Mister Escuella! I'm surprised you're back so soon. You must tell me about your adventures!” You rested your gloved hands against your knees, smiling up at Javier.

Your dark outfit looked stunning against the white clover flowers surrounding you in the grass.

“It seems no matter how far I go, I'm always led back to you, Father (Name),” Javier purred, glancing at the red flowers you had planted in the flower bed before you.

He fidgeted with the strap of his bag, hoping you didn’t notice how uncomfortable he felt. Truth be told, he worked hard to sell the idea of being a romantic, hoping that he might start to believe it himself. Your arms flexed as you adjusted the flower bed to be more in the sunlight. Javier licked his lips at the sight. Your skin was always so covered that he never had the opportunity to see your body.

Your smile warmed his heart; perhaps he was beginning to believe it. You took off your gloves, leaving them on the church's porch.

“Well! Let’s head inside; I’m sure you’re just exhausted!” You cooed at Javier, placing your hand on his lower back and leading him inside. Once the heavy doors shut behind the two of you, Javier pulled you into his chest, dropping his bag to the ground. His hands tilted your head as he pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. Your lips were much softer against his. Not a single piece of dried skin tainted them.

You softly gasped as his hand landed on your ass. Holding the fat in his hand, messaging it. “This. This keeps me coming back…guapo~” he spoke against your lips; your whine was like music to his ears at his words. He could feel your hard dick against his thigh; his hand let go of your face tracing the head of your cock with his fingers, “This too, dios mio, I can’t forget it.”

“Javi, we can’t do this here!” Your voice fell on deaf ears.

You were overly sensitive to every touch he gave you, hips bucking into his hand as you both stumbled to the floor. Javier places his hat on your head before straddling your lap. Javier couldn’t remember taking your pants off or even his own, but you filled him so nicely that he honestly didn’t even care how it happened. You were lucky the church was empty; for your sake, even if a few other church members were wandering around, he’s not sure anything would’ve changed with how intensely he was riding you. Such a stuffy place could use a good show. And who better to put on a show than one of the leading members?

Javier huffed your hands held onto his hips, the tips of your fingers pressed into the skin, trying to slow the pace of his hips down, but he just couldn’t get enough of your desperate cries. Javier knew he couldn’t last despite the movements you constantly brushed against every sensitive spot in his body. He loved how you looked with his hat on; it was like staking his claim on you, other than the obvious.

He grabbed one of your arms, kissing the palm of your hand down your arm. The hair of his mustache scratched against your arm, but any new sensations felt so good that you didn’t mind. Javier's body trembled as he pressed his lips to your arm, his eyes squeezed shut. Every ache in his body was gone for a moment.

Javier's body felt hot, way too hot, as his body sat up. White sleep shirt, much lower than it was when he put it on the night before. The fire he slept by next to Charles was much stronger than it usually was in the morning. He and Charles caught eyes for a moment, if Charles looked like death, Javier was sure he was in the same boat. He heard Arthuts boots against the ground and began to pack, he had to pick up Trelawny to scope out the scene and was not excited for the non-stop conversation that was bound to happen on the ride to black water.

The crunch of the rocks under Charles's boots alerted your resting figure. Since his hand healed, he decided to get back into hunting to donate the meat to either you or Pearson when he was finished. He had skin and gathered the meat from a few deers, which he kept on his horse; he wasn’t sure what you were doing here. It’s a bit of a ride from Valentine here, but he wasn’t upset to see you sooner than planned.

“I’ve been waiting here for you, Mister Smith. I just couldn't stop thinking about you!” He finally noticed your body position: you were on all fours, your back slightly arched.

“What’s uh going on, Father (Name)?” you looked over your shoulder, maintaining eye contact with Charles. “What? I can’t say hi to you on my own…Special way, Mister Smith?” he couldn’t tell if this was some sort of joke if you were pulling his leg trying to make him laugh or what, but he also didn’t want just to brush this away because he was nervous.

Charles felt like an animal huffing over your shaking body, his chest pressed against your back; your arms were shaking, seeming like they were about to give out from under you. His thrusts weren’t harsh. They were pretty even, but even then, each thrust felt like pushing each thought from your brain. Your body fell against the lush grass on the ground, Charles following suit. Charles was no small man in any sense of the word. And he didn’t want to hurt you even if you were offering yourself to him.

His head rested just behind yours, breathing against the back of your neck, inhaling the smell of your hair as he rutted between your plush thighs, his hard-on brushing against yours with each rutt of his hips. His lips kissed the nape of your neck; he could feel your hand begin to stroke yourself, your hand grazing over his cock when it was near. He felt like a predator who successfully caught his prey, your whines high-pitched, like cries. Fucking you out in the open, anyone could walk by. God forbid someone gets curious to check on the noise.

But Charles was starting to lose all of his sense on top of you; the precum from his thrusting lubed up your thighs, making a slick, wet noise. He lightly bit the nape of your neck, causing your body to keen into his. His hands held your hips, moving your entire body back and forth to thrust you back and forth on his cock. You were reduced to just a moaning mess, and a guilty part of him reveled in seeing you so dependent on him even to hold you together. With a groan, Charles bit down a little harder. His eyes opened, seeing Javier sitting up, already looking at Charles. It was the sight he usually woke up to, but Javier looked rough, as if he had hardly slept.

Charles felt strained, his hard-on not gone down at all as he began to wake up fully at the sounds of Arthur packing. With a grunt, he sat up, taking in the sight of the camp before beginning to pack himself. He felt lucky to have slightly baggy pants, giving himself some decency and saving himself from potential stares and odd conversations.

[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.

[ghouligancentral]

Just a Lil' bit O' Fun

Javier Escuella x Reader X Sean McGuire

NSFW (18+)

Summary- With your help, Javier makes sure Sean learns his lesson.

A/N-

Wooooh boy. I was inspired to write this after hearing an interaction in camp where Sean mocks Javier's outfit. I honestly debated about not posting this one because I thought it was a little too much, but then again when is it ever too much and it was just going to sit in my google docs. Just a warning Javier is a little mean to Sean in this one. I didn't proof all of this because frankly no one has time for that.

Warnings: SMUT, Light dom/sub, Masturbation, oral sex, f/m/m threesome.

Sean’s knee bounces nervously as he sits alone at the table. Every time the door opens, he turns quickly to see if you and Javier have arrived yet and each time he has been disappointed so far. The Irishman groans as he leans back before taking another swig of his beer in an attempt to try and calm his nerves. Part of him tells him he should just get up and leave, that this is a bad idea, but the other part, the part that keeps him sitting in this chair, wants this more than he has ever wanted anything before. He’s been anticipating this ever since Javier pulled him aside after a job and gave him the proposition. 

A rush of adrenalin floods his system as he watches Javier swing the door open, holding it for you as you walk in behind him. Sean’s eyes light up when he sees you, you look absolutely stunning. Any doubt he had about doing this leaves his mind, now he can only think about one thing: you. When your eyes meet Sean’s he waves you and Javier over. While you make your way over to Sean, Javier goes over to the bar to order drinks. Sean watches as the bartender hands a shiny object to Javier, who then slides it into his pocket. 

“Hello Sean,” you greet as you take a seat beside the Irishman. A red blush floods his cheeks as he looks at you. 

“Oh hi,” Sean murmurs before he takes another swig of his beer. 

“You know,” you smile as you place a hand on his leg to stop it from bouncing,” I can tell when you get nervous.”

“How so?” Sean questions as he tries to keep his voice from becoming squeaky. He always gets a little flustered around you, but now, with the thought of what is about to happen in his mind, he can’t help being alight with nerves and excitement. 

“Your accent gets heavier,” you whisper as you trail your hand higher on his leg. Sean can already feel his cock beginning to harden in his trousers, his heart rate quickens as your hand inches closer to where he wants it to be. 

“Do you still want to do this? We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you explain, stopping your hand on the outside of his thigh. Instead of his usually cocky reply, Sean can only muster up a nod in response. 

“Use your words,” you coo into his ear. 

“Yes, I still want to do this,” Sean gulps as he feels your hand begin to move once more. 

“Good boy,” you whisper in his ear just before you give his member a light squeeze through his trousers, teasing him. To his disappointment, you pull away and move over when you spot Javier approaching with drinks. 

“For the lady,” Javier smiles as he sets your drink down in front of you. Javier plops down in the seat facing Sean before he takes a drag of his whisky while looking Sean up and down. Sean feels his face redden under the scrutiny of the other outlaw. 

“So, you still up for this, compadre?” Javier questions as he leans farther back into the seat. 

“I just asked the same thing,” you smile at Javier before you take a sip of your drink. The both of you look back to Sean for a reply. 

“Yes,” Sean answers,” if you think you can handle it.” 

A dark smile forms on Javier’s lips upon hearing the backtalk from the Irishman. He takes another long sip of his drink before forming a reply. 

“Oh I wouldn’t be saying that if I were you, amigo,” Javier warns with a grin. Sean takes another sip of his beer in an attempt to hide his nervousness. 

“Alright boys, enough talk,” you announce as you finish up the last of your drink.

“Javier, if I may?” You ask, holding out a hand. Javier smiles as he fishes the key out of his pocket before handing it to you. 

“Room 4, upstairs to the right,” Javier says before closing your hand over the metal and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

“Give me ten minutes,” you exclaim before turning and heading up the stairs. You feel two sets of eyes follow you as you walk. In the moment you feel like both predator and prey. 

“You remember what I told you?” Javier asks Sean as he looks back at the man. 

“Yes,” Sean replies before Javier motions for him to repeat the rule,” No touching unless I’m given permission.”

Sean is a little less than thrilled to be taking orders from Javier, but he is willing to do it if that means that he gets to see you like in such a state of undress. 

“You know, amigo, she made up the rules, not me,” Javier muses with a smile as he finishes his drink. Sean’s eyes widen in surprise, he hadn’t expected you to be so dominant. 

While the boys remain downstairs, you make your way up to the rented room. You unlock it to find a small room with a bed, two chairs and a dresser. It is cozy and you know it will do nicely for what you have planned for the evening. You begin by pulling out a small article of clothing from your satchel: a silk robe. Javier had bought, or stole (you don’t really know or care for that matter), it for you the last time he was in Saint Denis.

You strip yourself of your garments before setting them aside before slipping on the robe. After securing it around your waist you move one of the chairs closer to the bed. Just as you are finishing up, you hear a knock on the door and go over to open it. Once the two men have crossed through the doorway you shut and lock it. Javier places a kiss on your head before moving over to the bed. Sean allows his eyes to roam over you, taking in the sight of your body. 

“Are you going to be a good boy Sean?” you ask as you saunter over to Sean. The Irishman can hardly contain himself and gives an excited nod. His hand twitches a little as the idea of palming himself through his trousers pops into his mind, but he doesn’t. He wants to be a good boy and he knows that's not what good boys do. Javier watches you as he props himself up on his elbows. Javier wasn’t too happy when he found out that Sean had been flirting with his woman. He thought the problem had been solved after he had confronted the Irishman, only to find out Sean started back up after about a week. While Javier knew you wouldn’t even dream of cheating on him, there was something about Sean’s attitude that rubbed him the wrong way. 

—----------------------

One night, you noticed that Javier was particularly stressed. 

“What’s wrong Javi?” you asked as you sat down beside the man. 

“Sean,” Javier growled in response,” he just won’t listen.” 

“I wish there was some way to put that little shit in his place. The only person he ever listens to is you…..” Javier’s words trail off as a wicked idea pops into his head. He knew you enjoyed  being the dominant one in the bedroom on some occasions. 

“I know that look, Javi. What are you thinking?” You question as you start to wonder what his idea might be. 

“Stop me anytime if you aren’t interested and we will forget I ever brought this up, but I have an idea of how you can put Sean in his place.”

—-------------------------------------------

“Good. Go take a seat over there,” you explain, gesturing to a chair that has been pulled up alongside the bed,” and don’t touch yourself.” 

Sean is quick to follow your instructions, sitting down and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. You chuckle at his eagerness as you climb up onto the bed to join Javier. Both Javier’s and Sean’s eyes widen as you disgarde your robe, throwing it off somewhere beside the bed. You straddle his lap and gently grind your hips down against his. 

You let out a moan when your core makes contact with the bulge in Javier’s trousers. A grunt escapes his lips as he brings his hands up to grab onto your waist, causing you to press down harder on his member. The two of you continue to grind together while Sean watches with big eyes. You hear a low groan come from the Irishman and out of the corner of your eye you can see him shifting in his seat. You still your hips before turning to look at Sean. 

“You better not be touching yourself,” you berate, Sean gives you a sheepish look, letting you know that was exactly what he was doing. 

“Put your hands on the bed and keep them there,” you instruct and Sean obeys. You feel Javier shift underneath you as he runs his hands up your bare sides. Once he reaches your face, his hands cup your cheeks and he pulls you in for a kiss. Javier moans into your mouth as you let his tongue explore you. Your arms wrap around his neck and one hand snakes its way up into his hair. You have to pull away for air and you watch as Javier pouts his lip in disappointment, however, he isn’t disappointed for long since you lean in and begin attacking his neck with a series of nips and kisses. 

The outlaw groans as he buries his face in your hair as he thrusts his hips up against you, trying to achieve some sort of friction. His rough hands wander over your back causing the arousal in your core to grow stronger. You bring your hands down to begin undoing the buttons on his vest. Javier took the initiative to remove his jacket and gun belt before getting on the bed, and You are thankful that you don’t have to take the extra time to remove them . After finishing undoing the last button on the vest you lean back so that you can remove it before tossing it over to the side to land somewhere with your robe. 

You gently push Javier down so that his back is flat against the bed. He smiles up at you as you lightly trace a finger down his face and neck before untying the handkerchief from around his neck. You then work your way down the buttons of his shirt, once you reach the bottom you throw it open. Javier lets out a groan at the feeling of you running your hands through the soft hair peppering his chest. Sean’s fists clinch in frustration as he wishes it was him that your hands were touching. 

You let out a small giggle at the frustrated groan of Sean before moving lower on Javier so that you can work on undoing his trousers. You give Javier’s bulge a few rubs before leaning down and running your tongue over the fabric. Both Javier and Sean groan at the sight, with Javier struggling to keep from bucking his hips up. You run your tongue all the way up until you reach Javier’s navel before you sit back up and unbutton his trousers. 

Javier lifts his hips off the bed, allowing you to pull his jeans down to his thighs. You curl your fingers around his erect member before leaning down and giving the head a small lick. Javier moans in response to the action. As much as he is enjoying this, there is something he really wants to do. 

Javier sits up to remove the rest of his shirt and trousers before he tosses them to the side. 

Javier positions you so that you are facing away from Sean on all fours, with your soaked cunt on full display. Javier places a series of kisses that run up your spine. You shudder a little at the ticklish feeling of his facial hair rubbing against your soft skin. You moan and arch your back deeper as Javier nibbles on your ear. A single finger begins to rub up and down your soaked slit as he coos praises directed at you. You gasp as you feel a finger slide into your core. 

“Mierda! You’re so wet for me,” Javier growls as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you,” I bet Sean wishes he could feel just how tight and wet this sweet little cunt is.”

Javier gives Sean a wicked smile before pushing a second finger into you. You cry out in pleasure as you feel Javier begin to scissor you open. Sean’s knuckles are white from gripping the bed sheet so tightly. The way your pussy clenches around Javier’s fingers drives him wild. All he wants is to be buried in your tight heat. 

“That’s it mi amor,” Javier murmurs as he leans down and places a kiss on your outer thigh,” show Sean just how much you are enjoying this.”

You nearly scream when Javier snakes a hand under your body and begins rubbing your clit. You feel the wave of your first orgasm beginning to build. Javier continues for the next few moments with this motion, however, when he adds a third finger that building wave of arousal comes crashing down on you. Your legs shake as you cum on his fingers, your slick running down his fingers and onto your thighs. 

“Tan buena,” Javier praises as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy. Javier moans when he places them in his mouth to lap up any remaining juices. 

“I bet you wish you could taste her. Maybe you’ll get the chance after I fuck her,” both you and Sean moan at his words. 

Javier spins you around so that you are facing Sean, still on your hands and knees. Javier moves so that he is positioned at your entrance. You groan when you feel the tip of his hard member brush against your opening.  Sean watches you bite your lip in pleasure as Javier pushes into you. Your face is only inches away from Sean’s but he knows he can’t just reach out and touch you. 

Javier grunts as he gets into a rhythm. Each time he pushes in you are thrust closer to Sean. Javier’s hands grip your waist so that he can keep pulling you back to meet his thrusts each time. 

“Here we go,” Javier grunts and he positions the two of you so that you are now riding him. 

“Oh fuck Javi!” You cry as he bounces you on his cock. You can feel a few beads of sweat rolling down your spine as you continue to ride Javier. His fingers dig into your hips as he continues railing up into you and you know you will have bruises there come tomorrow. 

“That’s it mi amor. Just like that! Fuck,” Javier praises as you feel his thrusts quicken, you recognize this as one of the tell tale signs he is about to cum. He lets go of one side of your hips to move his hand down to your cunt. A gasp escapes you as you feel a finger brush up against your clit. He begins to rub small circles over you causing you to moan out his name. 

Sean watches the scene before him. His neglected cock twitches in between his legs and he is dying to stroke it. But he knows that if he can hold off for just a little longer, he might get something better. 

“Are you gonna cum para mi?” Javier grunts as he feels your walls flutter slightly around him. 

“Yes,” you huff as you continue riding the outlaw below you. 

“Bueno,” Javier utters, giving your clit one good rub. This triggers your orgasm and you cry out Javier’s name as you feel pleasure pulse through your body. Javier continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The feeling of your cunt clamping down on him causes Javier to cum. Thick ropes of white coat the insides of your wall. 

“Ah mi amor,” Javier pants and he lifts you off of his softening cock,” eres tan buena.”

“You too,” you giggle as you thread your fingers through this dark hair. The two of you lay there and catch your breath before you decide what you should do with Sean. 

“Since you were such a good boy and didn’t touch yourself, I’ll let you have a treat,” you smirk as the words come out of your mouth. Sean is visibly excited by the idea of you rewarding him. You position yourself in front of him and spread your legs, giving the Irishman a great view of your dripping core. A drop of the mix of yours and Javier’s cum leaks out onto the bed and Sean can feel his cock aching at the sight. 

“Move closer,” you instruct. Sean quickly pulls his chair closer to the bed before looking up into your eyes, waiting for the next instructions. You let out a loud, exaggerated moan as you gently start teasing your clit with two fingers. The sight almost makes Sean drool. 

“Please. Please, I’ve been such a good boy just let me,” Sean whines as he feels another drop of precum ooze out of his painfully hard cock, staining his trousers. You pretend to be debating it for just a moment, when Javier interrupts your thought.

“Mi corazón, let the boy taste you, he’s earned it,” Javier mumbles as he begins to redress himself. 

“Alright Sean, you heard what Javi said,” you muse softly. Sean quickly moves to place your legs over his shoulders and begins to dive in before you stop him. 

“Ah don’t you think you should thank Javier before you get started,” you tease as Sean looks up at you with wide eyes as he nods. 

“Thank you sir,” Sean utters frantically. Javier just grunts in response as he pulls up his jeans, the metal of his belt clanking together as he does so. 

“You may begin.”

Sean takes no time diving in. You gasp and arch your back as you feel his tongue swipe through your slit. The ferocity at which he laps at your cunt surprises you. Only muffled whimpers and groans can be heard coming from his mouth. Javier makes his way over to stand beside Sean allowing him a better view of the scene playing out before him. 

“You’ve gotta do better than that , pequeña mierda,” Javier smirks before he grabs the back of Sean’s head, shoving him closer to your pussy. Sean moans into you in response to the action as he doubles down on his efforts. Your heels dig into his back as you try to keep your legs open, wanting nothing more than to clamp them down on either side of his head, but then Javier wouldn’t get as good of a show. One of your hands makes its way to Sean’s head and tangles itself into the mess of red hair. You give him a little tug causing him to moan.

Javier can feel his cock rehardening in his trousers as he watches your heaving chest. Sean moves one hand up on the bed and begins toying with your clit. 

“Oh good boy Sean,” you praise as you feel the coil of arousal in your stomach beginning to tighten. 

“Look at that,” Javier laughs as he watches the two of you,” Sean hasn’t even touched himself yet.”

You look at Javier in surprise and cock an eyebrow as if to ask ‘really’. Javier just nods back before Sean's thumb presses down harder on your clit, causing you to let go of his hair to prevent yourself from falling backwards onto the bed. 

“Still trying to be a good boy?” Javier mocks as he roughly pulls Sean’s head away from you by his hair. 

Sean groans as he feels his hair being tugged and stares at you with lust filled eye. Something stirs in you as you watch his mouth and chin shine with your slick. Sean ekes out a small ‘uh hu’ in response to Javier’s question. You lean up a little so that you can cup Sean’s face in your hands. Javier lets go of his hair as you begin to rub Sean’s cheek with your thumb. 

“Aww such a good boy. You wanna touch yourself while you taste me? Yes I know you would, sweet boy,” you coo,” now be a good boy and make me cum.”

Sean immediately dives back into licking at your cunt but before he presses his thumb against your clit, he quickly undoes his own trousers to free himself. His other hand settles on his cock and he lets out a pitiful moan when he finally begins to stroke himself. It only takes him three pumps before he is cumming all over his hand. His moans and gasps are muffled as he remains buried in your pussy. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp as you feel yourself getting closer. Sean takes this as an indication to continue with his movements. The tight coil in your stomach finally snaps when you feel a pair of calloused hands knead at your breast. You open your eyes to find Javier playing with your tits and pinching your nipples. You cum with a cry as you feel waves of pleasure crash over you. Your legs clamp down tightly on the sides of Sean’s head as you ride out your orgasm. After your orgasm is over, a little hiss escapes your lips at the feeling of Sean still lapping at your oversensitive core. 

“ detenlo ahora,” Javier snaps as he pulls Sean’s face away once more. You look down to see a rather disheveled looking Irishman between your legs, a tired smile on his face. 

“You learn your lesson Sean?” Javier questions as he lets go of the man’s hair. 

"Maybe," Sean grins," We might have to do this again, just to make sure." 

______________________________________________________________

Translations: 

pequeña mierda- you little shit 

Mi corazón- my heart (term of endearment) 

detenlo ahora- stop it now

Thanks for reading. I hope this wasn't too much. Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Also let me know if you have any ideas for future fics.

[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."

***

[notepadsandtealeaves]

‼ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT FOLLOW WILL BE BLOCKED ‼

status: ongoing || updated: 1/25/23

|| byf | rdr tag | other m.lists | my ao3 | main blog ||

↠ all works are poc friendly ↠ unless otherwise specified, all works are written with a gender neutral reader ↠ works range from sfw fluff to straight up smut, and this is an 18+ blog besides, so minors need to ✨️ ~leave~ ✨️ ↠ links marked with a ❣ lead to my main blog ↠ links under the cut so as not to clutter up your dash/blog

from the van der linde boys, with love 💌 || vde 2021 m.list

paring: reader x all of the boahs sans micah because i don’t like him lol

type: sweet lil love letters

rating: sfw fluff

cws/tws: none

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

from the van der ladies, with love 💌 || vde 2021 m.list

paring: reader x all of the gang’s ladies

type: sweet lil love letters

rating: sfw fluff

cws/tws: none

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

nsfw abcs || javier escuella

paring: this collection is javier x reader-centric, but the gang ofc makes guest appearances in various fills

type: hcs with accompanying ficlets/one-shots

rating: nsfw, obviously

cws/tws: any applicable warnings can be found in their respective fills

↠ links: tumblr ❣ || ao3

relationship abcs || men-folk edition

paring: once again, reader x all the van der linde gents that aren’t micah

type: long form hcs

rating: sfw, tho things do get a bit ~spicy~ from time to time

cws/tws: any applicable warnings can be found in their respective fills

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

(home is) wherever i’m with you || 200 follower event

pairing: javier escuella x reader

rating: angst-y h/c vibes that get nsfw at the end

cws/tws: there’re way too many to list here, so see the in story note

total wc: 14k~ ((…don’t look at me lol))

“no.” “‘no’, what?” “no, you’re not goin’.” “i’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.” the smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “that’s because it wasn’t, mi amor…”

in which what should be little more than a simple misunderstanding turns into something quite other. but no matter the storm, the pair of you are always willing to weather it so long as you can come home.

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

what you want, what you need || a thot’s thoughts

pairing: this is a javier x reader story, but it’s implied that there’s some… tension, let’s say, between the pair of them and sadie or charles in the f!reader and gn!/m!reader fills respectively

reader gender: f!, gn!, and m! reader options are available

rating: nsfw

cws/tws: there are a lot, but the biggest are mild exhibitionism, m!dom/sub dynamics, rough treatment/sex (reader receiving), jealous javier (but make it non-toxic), light choking (reader receiving), and orgasm denial/control (reader receiving). for a complete and more detailed listing see the in story note. and if i missed anything, please let me know!!

total wc: 6.6k~ or 7.5k~ depending on which version you read

“oh fuck you, escuella.” “you’d best watch that mouth of yours, mi amor. just because daddy-dearest can’t take you over his knee anymore doesn’t mean your papi won’t.”

a modern au in which you take your teasing a little too far at a friend’s party. in return javier will make sure that you get what you deserve before you get what you need.

he’s using papi SARCASTICALLY ffs lmao

↠ links: f!reader || tumblr ❣ | ao3

↠ gn!reader || tumblr ❣ | ao3

↠ m!reader || tumblr ❣ | ao3

© thepuckishrogue/notepadsandtealeaves, 2019-2023 || 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…

[ao3feed-connor]

Multifandom x Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35W6yc1

by Lilya (Touch_The_Sky)

I write x reader fics just cause I can, requests are almost always open so feel free to ask if you'd like something written!

Words: 71, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Haikyuu!!, Bloodborne (Video Game), inFAMOUS: Second Son, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Final Fantasy XV

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson, Gavin Reed, Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou, Nishinoya Yuu, Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu, Gilbert (Bloodborne), Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Eugene Sims, Delsin Rowe, Alistair (Dragon Age), Cailan Theirin, Morrigan (Dragon Age), Leliana (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Cullen Rutherford, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Sera (Dragon Age), Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Ravus Nox Fleuret

Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Gavin Reed/Reader, Alistair (Dragon Age)/Reader, Zevran Arainai/Reader, Morrigan (Dragon Age)/Reader, Leliana (Dragon Age)/Reader, Cullen Rutherford/Reader, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age)/Reader, Sera (Dragon Age)/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader, Kozume Kenma/Reader, Hinata Shouyou/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Gilbert (Bloodborne)/Reader, Eugene Sims/Reader, Delsin Rowe/Reader, Reggie Rowe/Reader, Arthur Morgan/Reader, John Marston/Reader, Sean MacGuire/Reader, Leonard "Lenny" Summers/Reader, Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption) & You, Javier Escuella/Reader, Prompto Argentum/Reader, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader, Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader, Ignis Scientia/Reader, Ravus Nox Fleuret/Reader

Additional Tags: I Don't Even Know, I Blame Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35W6yc1