#you have to stick to your guns or they ain’t your guns!

[nebuletteart]

augh i know i shouldn’t have responded to a bad addition to a post at nearly 4 am, never trust your brain past 12 goddamnit, but i’m gonna stick to my guns

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it’s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[thesightstoshowyou]

Makin’ Friends

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)

Summary: A truck stop bathroom is about to see more action than it has in years.

Warnings: Nonconsensual touching, brat taming, use of “Daddy,” slapping, excessive dirty talk, descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of drug effects, dubious consent, degradation, biting, facial

Fat drops of crimson drip and splatter onto broken tile and dingy, cracked porcelain. Trembling fingers rifle through supplies, bottle caps and ammo clacking as they are shoved aside. Gritted teeth grip hold of gauze wrapping and tear.

Smashing the dressing over your oozing gut forces a grunt up and out of your throat. The bullet in your belly burns where it sits nestled between innards. Your leg burns too—a graze—but it will have to wait. Vitals first.

You spit out a curse and frantically upend your bag. Provisions and supplies tumble into the sink and crash to the ground, but your concern is elsewhere. Against your palm, the dressing grows warm and sticky faster than you can replace it. If you don’t find this fucking Stimpak soon you’re gonna pass out. You can almost hear the Radroaches excitedly clicking their disgusting mandibles in anticipation of their next meal.

A pane of glass from the broken bathroom mirror smashes onto the worn countertop and you jolt, your frayed nerves making you skittish as a cottontail. Your gaze momentarily raises to your haggard reflection. Sweat beads along your brow and sticks your hair to your skin. Chapped lips press into a thin, anxious line when you see how much color has drained out of your face, the effects of blood loss startlingly visible.

Where in the fuck is that god damned—

Movement in the mirror, behind you. Breath sticking in your throat, you whirl around, boots slipping in the gore that has pooled at your feet. Your free hand grips the countertop to keep you upright as your eyes meet the gnarled, grinning face of the last thing you want to see in your current state.

Where’s your gun—your eyes flick to the right—shit, you set it on the back of that busted toilet—

“The fuck are you doing here, ghoul?” Your question drips with condescension, bravado your only available weapon.

The Ghoul shoulders the doorframe as one gloves hand comes to rest against the bandolier across his chest. “Shoulda known it was you making all that racket back in town. Did ya’ bite off a bit more than ya’ could chew, darlin’?”

You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t so lightheaded. “Bounty had some unexpected friends,” you comment. It would be nonchalant if not for the white-knuckled grip you have on the countertop.

A wry chuckle, then, “Friends, huh? Now that’s somethin’ you’re painfully short on, ain’t it?” The toe of his boot playfully taps at some debris on the floor. “Think it’s cuz of that winnin’ personality a’ yours?”

Your knees shake, your shoulder aching from keeping you upright. “You’re one to talk. I don’t see your entourage anywh—

Your words die on your tongue when you finally focus on what the Ghoul rolls under the heel of his boot. What you thought was a chunk of tile is actually the thing for which you’ve been searching so feverishly: The fucking Stimpak.

The Ghoul’s brows raise in feigned surprise when he spots you staring at the floor. “Oh, this what ya’ been lookin’ for?” Keeping his gaze on yours, he leisurely crouches and retrieves the coveted little vial before standing to his full height once more.

Your stomach plummets. You can’t stop the way your chest heaves, your body desperate to pump oxygen into your slowly dwindling blood supply. Agony pulses in nauseating waves through your belly, your jaw clenching to keep your weakness hidden. But who are you kidding?

You’re not stupid. You know this Ghoul has no qualms about splattering your brains all over the broken mirror behind you. If he wanted you dead, he would have done it already. No, he must be here for something else.

“What do you want?” you mutter, the words shaking as they leave your lips. Yellow teeth peek from between tattered lips as the Ghoul smirks. He pushes away from the door and steps toward you, boots crunching on shattered tile and glass and refuse with each unhurried step.

You stumble back, his advance pressuring you against the counter behind you, but he doesn’t stop until he’s mere inches away, until the scents of ozone and gunpowder and worn leather sting your nose. Instinct takes over and you lash out, fingers intent on his eyes, but he catches your weak jab with embarrassing ease. The Ghoul snatches your other limb for good measure and gathers up both of your wrists in one, gloved hand.

Your lips pull back over your teeth in a snarl, but it’s useless. You’re caught, caged in by his body and the sink digging into your ass. And now, with no pressure over the wound in your gut, blood freely leaks down your front to soak the both of you.

The Ghoul hums thoughtfully. “Kitty’s been declawed.”

“Fuck you,” you grit out, but it sounds more like a whine than an insult. Darkness pulls at the edges of your vision. You’re about to black out—

“Ah, now, is that how you ask nice for somethin’?” He brings the Stimpak into your line of site and dangles it there, taunting you. You give him the nastiest glare you can muster, but your anger seeps out of you with your blood. Animal panic takes its place.

He must see the desperation in your eyes because he leans down, his face so close to yours you feel the heat of his breath as he murmurs, “Go on now. What’s the magic word?”

Tremulous breaths spill from your nose as you clamp your mouth shut. Pride is going to be the death of you. Would you really rather die than give him whatever the hell it is he wants?

Thickly, you swallow and whisper, “…please.”

The Ghoul tilts his head, “What was that, sweetheart? Couldn’t make it out—

“PLEASE-“ you bite your tongue, suck in a breath, “Please, I…help me.” A low chortle greets your words, then stabbing pain as a needle plunges into your abdomen. You grunt and hiss as the drugs burn their way through tissue to jumpstart the healing process. Pain killers douse the anguish like water over a fire and you slump in relief, forehead dropping to a sturdy shoulder.

The empty syringe clatters when it’s tossed onto the counter. Gloved fingers find your hair and grip hard to tip your head back. You wince and blink in an effort to come back to yourself, opiates and stimulants and steroids and whatever else was in that vial at war with your consciousness as they repair your shredded guts.

“There now. All better. I believe a ‘Thank you,’ is in order,” the Ghoul drawls. You’re still so weak, desperately in need of rest and hydration, but the drugs have rekindled the embers of rage.

“I’m not telling you a god damned—

WHAP

Blinding pain collides with your cheek and suddenly you’re staring at the torn ad for Cram plastered to the wall: Now with 50% more Cram! Wetness, thick and tangy like iron, drips into your mouth. Your nose…it’s bleeding. Your cheek throbs in time with your pounding heart.

He’d fucking backhanded you….

Your head is yanked back by the hand in your hair until your face is inches from the Ghoul’s once again. “If you’re gonna be an ungrateful little shit, I can just put another hole in your belly and be on my way.”

You clench your eyes shut as your teeth grind together in barely contained ire. Curses that would make a sailor blush sit at the back of your throat like bile. It’s so tempting to just spit in his face and suffer the consequences. You’re not gonna fucking saying it, you can’t….

“…thank you.”

“That’s a good girl. I knew there were some manners in there somewhere.” Pressure between your legs makes your eyes fly open, a startled yelp slipping from your mouth.

Gloved fingers rub gentle circles at the apex of your thighs. Pleasure blooms in their wake, little pulses that arc through your core and zing up your spine. You open your mouth to hurl outraged insults, but, to your horror, a little mewl escapes instead.

Your cheeks burn and you splutter, “W-What-what are you—

“Looks like them drugs are workin’, huh?” The deep purr of the Ghoul’s voice rumbles against your chest and you squeak, goosebumps raising across your flesh. Fruitlessly, you tug against his iron grip on your wrists, but even just that consistent pressure makes you shiver.

You have got to be kidding….

The fingers massaging your cunt through your pants push right where you want them most and your lips part in a sharp gasp. It’s like your hips have a mind of your own as they tilt to increase the friction. The muscles of your thighs quiver in an effort to keep you from completely humping his hand.

Angry tears—anger? Is that what you’re feeling?—prick at the corners of your eyes as you look up into the Ghoul’s face. He smirks down at you, his eyes alight with mirth and hunger. Just that simple look he gives you makes your throat go dry.

“Feels good, huh?” You suck in an irritated breath through your teeth when he pulls his hand away. Yellowing teeth catch a fingertip of his glove, his bare fingers sliding free. “Good girls get to feel good. Simple as that. Now open up.”

Digits press insistently at your lips. Against your ribs, your heart pounds, the needy pulse between your legs matching its rhythm. It’s infuriating how badly you want him to touch you again….

A defeated groan sounds in the back of your throat when your mouth pops open. Fingertips tease your front teeth as the Ghoul murmurs, his words dark and deliberate, “I think ya’ know what’ll happen if ya’ bite me.”

You shoot him a withering look that says, ‘You must think I’m an idiot.’ He raises a brow in response. ‘I ain’t taking any chances with you.’ You let your tongue unfurl from your mouth for good measure.

Two fingers slide past your teeth and plunge deep into your mouth to test your gag reflex. “Suck,” the Ghoul orders. You only hesitate a moment before you close your lips around his digits and hollow out your cheeks. Still, that disobedient part of you can’t help but tease your teeth against his nails when he pulls the wetted fingers from your mouth.

“Seems like you’re wantin’ another slap,” he grumbles before shoving his hand down the front of your pants. Whatever clever quip you had prepared morphs into garbled nonsense when he locates your aching clit and strokes it with calloused fingertips.

You don’t realize the extent of your desire until he dips into the remarkable slickness of your folds. “Appears we didn’t need your mouth,” the Ghoul jokes. You would respond with something scathing if you could think of anything to say, but the mind-numbing shocks of pleasure rippling through your belly are making it difficult to speak.

“Turned ya’ into Daddy’s little brain dead whore in no time, didn’t I?” Your cheeks blaze and you choke on an indignant sound.

“I-I-you can’t just—fuck—

“S’alright. You can say it. Ain’t nobody else here to see you debasing yourself.” You whimper and shake your head, but your traitorous body rolls your hips into his stupid hand despite yourself.

Hot breath ghosts across your ear. “Say it and I’ll fuck that wet little hole. Just four simple words is all: ‘Please fuck me, Daddy.’”

“N-Not, I’m not—

“You know as well as I do that needy cunt’s beggin’ to be filled.” As he speaks, fingers circle your entrance for emphasis. You feel your resolve crumbling away beneath your curled toes.

But—christ—a ghoul? And a mean sonofabitch ghoul with the filthiest fucking mouth at that…. A ghoul that has you leaking like a broken pipe….

“…p-please—god dammit—please fuck me…Daddy.” Your face has to be on fire.

No sooner do the words leave your lips than you are twirled around. The room whirls like a top, your palms slipping in the blood still dripping off the countertop when you try to steady yourself. Only the hand in your hair keeps you from smashing your chin on ancient porcelain.

The Ghoul ruts against your ass while his free hand works his pants open. Your mouth snaps shut, your teeth clacking together to stop the groan when you feel his hard length dragging against your clothed flesh. Your skin tingles, your cunt soaking through your underwear in anticipation.

Dizzy from the drugs surging through your thin blood and the maddening want, you watch in the broken mirror as the Ghoul grasps the waistband of your pants to shove them down to your knees. Hot, gnarled skin slides along your slit, teasing, until you whine and wiggle your hips.

He meets your hazy gaze in the mirror, a smug sneer tugging at the corners of his lips. You huff and open your mouth to lash out, but the thick head of his cock breeches your entrance and turns the retort into a slurred, “Ffffuck!”

Hips surge forward to bury all that rough girth into slippery muscles that haven’t been used in god knows how long. Your eyes grow wide as saucers, your jaw locked in a silent scream, the air forced from of your lungs by the intrusion. Your walls spasm and clench in an effort to accommodate the stretch.

Behind you, a strained groan, long and low. “Tighter than I thought you’d be.” What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’d say it if you could figure out how to do anything other than moan.

The Ghoul’s scarred fingers dig into your locks, adjusting his grip so he can pull you back into his sharp thrust. The wanton noise you make has you wishing you’d bled out, but it’s not long before complex thought is wiped from your brain to be replaced with a mantra of ‘more, more, more.’

Wet slapping, the jingling of a belt buckle, rustling of a shredded duster, harsh grunts, and high, girlish cries fill the dilapidated bathroom as the Ghoul pummels you into the countertop. Your guts now ache for a different reason, assaulted from pleasure so taut and intense it borders on agony. You feel each frenzied stroke in the top of your skull all the way to the tips of your toes.

Warmth envelops your back as the Ghoul leans over you, the pistoning of his hips never faltering. Again, his lips find your ear, that voice like smooth bourbon filling your fuzzy head when he asks, “Is that pretty pussy about to cum on my cock?”

Resistance leaves you in a breathy keen. All the fight has been fucked out of you. Submission comes as an eager nod and a tiny, pathetic, “Please, Daddy.”

He gives a low growl in response, one you feel vibrating against your back. Fingers hook in the collar of your shirt and wrench it to the side. Bared teeth find the place where your neck meets your shoulder and sink into smooth flesh so hard you’re sure they’ll come away red.

You cum with a strangled scream, that pressurized ball of need rapidly unraveling in your belly. Slick walls squeeze, clinging tight to the girth battering them. Your eyes roll back, your shriek of euphoria reverberating off the low ceiling. Against your shoulder is a muffled rumble, then the absence of heat at your back.

Your head spins when you’re flipped around and shoved to the floor. A pained cry leaves your lips when your knees crack on filthy tile. Your head is jerked back, neck tendons popping with the force, while Ghoul’s other hand furiously pumps his drenched cock.

Your brain catches up with the situation just as he utters a pinched, “Fuck!” Eyelids snap shut a second before sticky warmth splatters across your face. The dose of radiation you’ll receive if any of that drips into your mouth…. You clench your jaw, lips pressed tight together.

Panting, trembling, skin buzzing like a thousand bees, you hastily wipe your face on your sleeve. Timidly, you peek up at the Ghoul looming over you. One hand still holds your hair, the other already readjusting his belt.

“That’s a good look for you, sweetheart.” All you can manage is an irritated nose scrunch. You’re too exhausted to bite, weariness settling deep in sore muscles. Rest and water are now your priority; that, and getting rid of the fingers still digging into your scalp.

Your stomach flips when he chuckles. “That’s cute.”

“What now?” you snap, the harshness of your tone lessened when your voice cracks.

“You think you’re done, dontcha?” Your breath catches in your dry throat. He can’t be serious.

“Hey, no, c’mon—

Your hands fly to his wrist when the Ghoul tugs you to your feet by your hair. You curse and stagger like you’ve forgotten how to walk, your knees seconds away from buckling.

“Up and at ‘em, baby. Night’s still young.”

[mcumorningstar]

begging for more riff x reader smut 🫣 I’d love if they were in a heated argument over riff buying a gun and riff says something disrespectful to reader making her slap him and then they just immediately go at it from the heat of the moment

Bang Bang

pairing: riff (wss) x reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, kinda toxic but kinda cute, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), riff’s got a gun, (I think that’s everything)

a/n: sorry this took so long I was on vacation. I’ve never done a request before!! Thanks for submitting :) This was more like I don’t wanna lose you sex than heat of the moment but hopefully this is okay!!

Sinking into Riff’s lap was the perfect remedy to a bad day. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, your pelvis pressed to his.

Usually you would be reduced to a puddle of contentment but the hard press and sharp sting of metal pushed against your lower stomach.

Pulling back, you scrutinise Riff for a moment before tugging up his shirt. A small revolver was nestled in the waistband of his jeans.

“Like Billy the Kid, don’t ya think?” Riff smirked up at you, pretending to shoot bullets from his fingers.

God, it was easy to forget, because of his troubles, but Riff was so young.

“Get rid of it,” You stared at the weapon with wide eyes, “I’m not playing around, Riff. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Born to die young, baby-o,” A wide grin plastered across Riff’s cheeks, smug and teasing. He squeezed your hips but you weren’t impressed.

“You gonna be laughing when you’re on a slab in the morgue?” You tried to stand, wanting some distance between.

“Don’t think like that,” He attempted to calm your nerves and refused to let you move away, pulling you closer.

A manicured nail jabbed into his chest, “Because I sure as hell won’t. I don’t wanna be a widow before I’m a wife.”

Riff sighed, his thumb rubbing against the empty space on your ring finger. An empty space waiting for a promised ring.

“They always bring heat. We gotta be ready,” He reasoned with you but your blood boiled as he removed the gun and examined it.

You scoffed, “This shit is so stupid, Riff!” You shoved his chest and rose from his lap, storming into the bedroom.

Riff followed you with a heavy sigh and heavy footsteps. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You expect me to go in there with nothing but the clothes on my back?”

“What I expect you to do is use your brain! Your daddy was in the exact same position as these Puerto Ricans you’re going to war with!”

“He was nothing like them.”

“Why? ‘Cause he speaks the language?”

It was a low blow but you wanted him to know how it looked.

“Don’t turn this into something it isn’t! This is a turf war,” Riff tried to level his steadily raising voice.

“Turf war? That slang for prejudice little boys with no jobs and nothing to do but terrorise foreigners?”

“Prej-? You know goddamn well that I’m not like that!Like you know what you’re talking about anyway! I’m not taking life advice from a hairdresser!” Riff snapped and, before he could have the nerve to feel bad, your open palm collided with his cheek.

You stood in silence for a moment as a red mark bloomed against his alabaster skin. It was not the ‘be the better person’ you were trying to drill into him, you knew that, but he pissed you off and it was almost involuntary.

“Shit” Riff jostled his jaw in all directions and rubbed a finger against his reddened ear, “You smack like my ma.”

Your hands cupped your slack jaw, “Baby I’m so sorry.”

Riff spared a glance in your direction as you stepped closer to him.

“Less of the smacking, yeah? I need my good looks or you got nothing to stick around for,” He smiled warily, “I ain’t no murderer, am I?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your thrill at his decision, and smiled softly. Tentatively, you reached up and brushed your fingers against his red cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby. Never meant to damage your pretty face.”

Riff almost melted, his eyes softening, “You think I’m pretty?”

“A real diamond in the rough,” You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and cupped his jaw, “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. Not for something this stupid.”

Riff pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours, “Never gonna happen. You’re stuck with me.”

A smile twitched at your lips. Despite the Jets, being stuck with Riff sounded heavenly. He dipped his head to kiss you softly.

“Never,” He whispered, pulling back an inch, his hot breath fanned across your lips.

“Good, because underneath it all, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known. I don’t wanna lose you.”

Riff pulled you back for another kiss. A clash of tongue and teeth as the kiss grew heated. You needed him to know how true it was, needed him to know how much you needed him.

“I love you,” He panted between the hot collision of lips. A soft moan rose from your throat. Riff dropped his hands to your hips, pulling your body flush to his.

Your nails clawed at his neck, fingers getting lost in his hair.

Clothes were shed, lying in piles on the bedroom floor. Riff hovered over you as you lay back on the mattress, pressing himself between your legs.

Clinging to his bare flesh, Riff trailed open-mouthed kisses along your neck and pulled your leg higher on his hip.

His hard cock pressed against you through his boxers, as his hips began to grind against yours.

A breath moan escaped your lips, “Riff… please.”

Usually he would tease you. ‘Please what, baby?’ he would say, but not this time.

Riff nodded over and over again as he pushed down his boxers and pulled your panties down your legs. The full weight of him rested against your bare skin as your lips met again.

With tender hands holding you close, Riff pressed into you. It was slow and sweat beaded on your skin when a low groan from the man above you vibrated against your neck.

“Ugh god,” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face further against your clavicle, littering messy kisses there.

“Move baby please,” You panted out, rubbing his back with firm fingers.

Riff pulled his hips back a few inches before rocking into you again. He pulled his head out of the shelter of your neck, connecting his eyes to yours.

His hips moved languidly, skin slapping with every collision of his pelvis to yours and pushing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Riff panted, pressing his forehead to yours, “For- for what I- I said. I love you and- and that’s never gonna change. Not for turf, not for nothing.”

The rhythmic strokes of his hips rendered you non-verbal, only capable of moaning and nodding. Your eyes fluttered closed at a particularly hard thrust.

“Look at me, baby,” Riff wrapped an arm underneath your head, the crease of his elbow and the muscle of his bicep your new pillow.

Forcing your eyes open, you met his eyes - a gorgeous swirl of blue and brown in the left.

He’s beautiful.

“Never want to be without you. What was I thinking? Taking a gun? You’re right to call it stupid, baby. So stupid” Riff rambled on. You could tell he was getting close by his loose lips.

Riff mumbled between moans, sloppy kisses and panting breaths against your skin until your chest was soaked in his spit.

It was euphoric. His hand snaked between your sweat slicked bodies, pressed so tightly against one another, to rub circles against your clit.

A loud moan ripped from you and your fingers gripped the back of his head, holding his face so close to yours that you breathed each other’s oxygen. All while staring into the starry night abyss of his eyes.

As the band inside you grew tighter and tighter, you gripped onto Riff tighter. Your legs wrapped around his waist as if he were going to be ripped from you entirely and red crescent moon imprints of your fingernails bloomed against his skin.

“I’m gonna cum. Can’t- can’t hold on,” Riff groaned, doubling down on his efforts between your legs. His thrusts were losing rhythm but he was hitting spots deep inside you and working you with his fingers.

White spots clouded your vision as the band inside you snapped, gushing onto his fingers and cock. The feeling of your orgasm pushed Riff over the edge, whimpering ‘I love you’s’ as he finished inside you.

Warmth bloomed inside you at the feeling and, as you came down from your high, a giddy grin crept onto your lips.

With heaving chests, Riff gazed down at you and a grin equal in size and feeling graced his lips.

“You were right, doll. Nothing is worth sacrificing you for.”

“Oh I’m gonna need that in writing,” You teased, stroking your fingers through his hair.

Riff laughed and playfully bit your jaw until you pushed him off, rolling around the bed with blissful laughter.

He stayed in that night. The gun was gone by the following morning and in its place sat a vase of red roses.

[princessbrunette]

toxicex!rafe telling all boys that your off limits and you finally confront him but he just acts confused and oblivious 😑

｡˚.𖧧 🐩🥛🤍 𖧧.˚｡

trying to flirt with the guy you usually flirt with but he’s acting all different, barely looking you in the eye and awkwardly shuffling away.

“why are you acting like that?” you pout, all rejected and downtrodden.

“look, sweetheart. just don’t wanna get my ass beat. you didn’t hear this from me but that ex boyfriend of yours is fucking insane. showed up to my place waving a gun around and everything. you’re cute but it ain’t worth my life. sorry.”

you’re mortified, coming to the harrowing realisation of why seemingly every guy on this side of the island had been avoiding you. you spot rafe at the country club bar the next night, harnessing a drink in a short glass and you march over — all dramatic with your bracelets jangling and shoes clacking.

“you’re scaring everyone off, rafe? that’s what we’re doing now?” you command, staring up at him with that frown he thinks is just adorable.

“hello to you too.” he drawls with a smirk, bringing his glass to his lips.

“its not funny, rafe. you can’t do that!”

“i have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, alright? go run along n’find your girlfriends. no need to make a scene like you always do.”

“me? make a scene? you’re the one waving a gun around. you don’t own me anymore rafe you can’t —”

“hey.” he barks suddenly before pressing his lips together in irritation, drawing in a few ragged breaths as he looks around, leaning down to your level. “you watch that mouth, yeah? you’re mine. okay? all of this?” he gestures to your body, stepping closer. “mine. this? this fuckin’ thing right here?” he closes in more, a large hand cupping under your skirt to grab a hold of your pussy. as much as you clench, and yearn for his touch in that very spot — the anger at the audacity wins and you shove him off, pushing at his firm chest which barely moves him, yet he backs off anyway with a boyish laugh.

“dont touch me.” you huff, prissy and pouty as you adjust your bag on your shoulder and stick your chin in the air determinedly. he huffs out a chuckle, shaking his head as he raises his glass to take another sip.

“yeah well, good luck gettin’ any other sucker to touch you. told everyone you’re off limits.” he takes his sip, licking over his moistened lips afterwards which he obviously notices you drop your eyes to. god, he’s smug. “mm. you’ll be back m’sure, when you want some dick.”

you’ve had enough, feeling all hot and bothered because not only is he pissing you off but he’s turning you on and the whole thing is just too much. you storm off and he follows you with his eyes, arrogant smirk on his face as he tongues at his cheek, watching your ass in that little skirt. “nice to see you, sweetheart.” he calls after you, and you ignore him.

｡˚.𖧧 🐩🥛🤍 𖧧.˚｡

[ataliagold]

trouble's always gonna find you baby, but so will i

For Whumptober prompt 10, I used "blow to the head" and "slurred words." Title from Western Nights by Ethel Cain.

Also on AO3.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1546

Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, whump, assault, injured steve, pistol-whipped, hospital, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Summary: Steve's found by some men looking to pass Al Munson's drug debt on to his son.

But he'll die before he gives Eddie up.

___

“You ready to talk?”

The man’s leaning close to Steve’s ear, rancid breath filling his nostrils, his fist caked in blood.

Steve’s blood.

Steve gasps for air, bats at the man’s wrist again, kicks out futilely. He receives a boot to his leg for his efforts, the second man grunting at the force he puts behind it.

His head’s swimming. Distantly, he wonders just how many concussions a person can take before their brain just sort of…leaks out their ears.

Surely he’s almost at the brain leaking stage by now.

Blood dribbles from his mouth, sticks to his teeth.

“Where’s Eddie Munson?” The first man growls.

Steve keeps his mouth shut. He’ll never give up Eddie, certainly not to these lowlifes, these associates of Al Munson looking to pass a drug debt onto the jailed man’s son.

He’ll die first.

When he says nothing, there’s the tell-tale click of a gun being cocked.

Steve really thinks he might actually die tonight.

If no one walks past this back alley, he’s toast.

Cold metal presses against his temple. Lucidity grips him for a moment, and Steve squirms in the grip of the two men, trembling all over.

“No…no, you can’t…I don’t know where he is, I don’t.” It’s a lie. It’s a fucking lie but he can’t.

“I ain’t fucking playing,” the man spits out, pressing the handgun harder against the side of Steve’s head. “You’ve got about five seconds before I decorate these walls with your brain, pretty boy.”

Steve swallows. He tastes rust and salt, coughs as it goes down. Heart hammering, ears ringing, fingers scrabbling at the hand fisted at his collar.

He’s going to die. Here, in the pitch black, in the dankest, dirtiest alleyway in Hawkins, where Jonathan had once beat him to a pulp while his friends looked on.

His tongue darts out over his lips. The barrel of the gun’s against his head still.

He thinks of Eddie.

Of cracked lips and gentle hands, long curls and pale skin that Steve loved to touch.

He’ll die before he gives him up.

In a moment of defiance, he locks eyes with his attacker.

The man curses, raises his hand, and whips the butt of the pistol across Steve’s face.

Steve’s head is slammed to the side at the force, his cheek immediately wet with blood where the skin parts.

“Last chance.” The man spits at the ground beside him, and then the gun’s lowered in front of Steve’s face again.

The world’s a blur in front of him. Steve blinks sluggishly, listens to his pulse pounding in his ears.

Eddie would be home from work by now. He’d be at the cabin by the lake, where he and Steve had been staying after…everything. They’d just wanted some peace in the wake of Vecna, away from the prying eyes of the Hawkins townsfolk, the ones that still blamed Eddie for everything that had happened to the town.

Steve was going to cook dinner for the two of them.

He’d been halfway through when he realized they didn’t have any butter, had driven back into town to buy some. It lay beside him now with the rest of the last-minute groceries he’d grabbed scattered on the filthy concrete. Even when he’d been jumped in the empty parking lot, he’d kept hold of his bag, too shocked to drop it until they’d slammed him up against the wall in the alleyway.

Eddie would be worried, he’d be wondering where Steve was, he’d come looking…

Steve hopes someone else finds him, after. Anyone but Eddie.

“Fuck you,” Steve slurs, with the last of his strength.

The man’s expression hardens.

Steve’s eyes drift close, and he waits for death.

Instead, there’s the wailing of a siren several blocks over.

The other man, the younger one who’d been sending the other nervous looks the whole time, lets go of Steve. He slumps sideways, lacking the strength to stay sitting upright.

“We gotta go,” the younger man urges.

“Nah, he’ll break,” the elder scoffs.

“That’s the fucking police.”

“They’re still a ways off. Probably doing something else.”

“I’m out, man.” The younger one backs away, turns on his heel, and runs.

The older man swears. The siren gets louder, and Steve thinks he can see red and blue lights in the distance, but maybe it’s just his injured brain firing on all cylinders.

“We’ll be back,” he hisses at Steve, kicks him one last time for good measure, and then he’s gone.

Steve sucks in a breath. Winces as everything hurts, his ribs and his stomach and his face all on fire.

He needs to move. Needs to get out to the road where someone might see him, because there’s no way he’s going to make it back to his car.

A whimper escapes from between clenched teeth as he braces against the wall.

He thinks of Eddie.

Shoves himself to his feet, one arm looped against his stomach protectively. His ribs crunch, and he knows there’s broken bone there, cracked under the onslaught of savage kicks the men had delivered to his sides.

It starts to rain.

And that, on top of everything else, has Steve almost breaking out into hysterical laughter. Because of course it’s fucking raining, just when he’d thought his night couldn’t get any worse. Rain mixes with the blood on his face, leaving watery streaks, and Steve slips and staggers his way across the concrete, past the butter turning to a damp mess, past the carton of eggs smashed across the ground.

Several times, he ends up on his knees, everything spinning.

But slowly, every inch of him screaming in agony, he makes it to the road.

There’s a patrol car up ahead, the siren cut now but the lights still flashing on the roof, reflecting off the rain falling.

Steve’s shirt is soaked through as he hobbles towards the car.

“Help,” he tries to call out, but it comes out as a croak, blood spilling out behind it.

He stumbles again, sobs, scrabbles against the concrete with ragged nails and forces himself upright again.

There’s a familiar figure in front of him, hauling some drunk guy to his feet, waving him away from a storefront.

Hopper.

Steve’s crying in relief now.

“Hop,” he rasps.

The chief turns. His eyes go wide, and he runs to Steve, catching him before he can fall again.

“Steve? What the hell happened?”

Steve’s mumbling into Hopper’s chest, he’s trying to tell him, but his tongue’s heavy in his mouth and his words are all merging together.

“In the car, come on,” Hopper’s telling him, guiding him to the passenger seat of the patrol car and easing him in.

Steve leans against the door, shivering, distantly aware of Hopper saying something, but then his eyes are falling closed and he slips into darkness.

*****

He wakes to a steady beep.

There’s a hand on his, warm and familiar.

He’d know it anywhere.

Slowly, he cracks open one eye, then the other.

Eddie’s beside him. He’s pale, bags under his eyes, his bottom lip gnawed to shit, but he perks up now.

“Stevie? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He squeezes Steve’s hand.

Steve goes to speak, but no sound escapes his raw throat. Instead, he nods, his head feeling heavy and stuffy.

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s crying.

Steve hates that he’s crying. Hates that he’s the reason for Eddie’s tears.

“Don’t cry,” Steve whispers, his throat rattling. He feels the unmistakable tug of stitches on his cheek when his mouth moves, feels tender skin stretch and flex under bruises.

Eddie only cries harder, scootching his chair closer, forehead finding Steve’s chest and resting there lightly.

“Hopper told me, he said he could barely make out what you said but he heard men, and drugs, and you said my name…Stevie, they wanted me, didn’t they?”

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Steve slurs, “promise.”

“Baby, I don’t…I don’t care about that, I’m worried about you!” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, swipes at the tears across his face, before taking Steve’s hand again. “You’ve got two broken ribs, a serious concussion, and two lots of stitches in your head. You…you could’ve died.”

Steve’s feeling…fuzzy. He recognizes the warm, soupy sensation of painkillers pumping steadily through his veins, knows without them he’d probably be feeling a whole lot worse than he is now.

He reaches a hand up, paws at the air a couple of times before it finally settles where he wants it, on the back of Eddie’s head, soothing over his curls.

“S’ok,” he mumbles, “I’m ok. Gonna…gonna make you dinner. When I’m outta here. Promise.”

Eddie splays a hand across Steve’s stomach, tears soaking into the crisp white sheet on the hospital bed.

“No, you’re not,” Eddie tells him softly. “When you’re out of here, I’m going to look after you. Gonna make you your favourite meals, I’ll fucking…spoon feed you, I’m not letting you out of bed until you’re completely healed.”

“Sounds fun,” Steve drawls, halfway to sleep because Eddie’s here, he’s warm and his voice is soothing and he’s safe.

“I love you,” Eddie whispers, “so fucking much.”

“Love you too,” Steve slurs out, and then he’s asleep again, secure in Eddie’s arms.

___

[milla-frenchy]

3k2 | Steve Murphy x fem reader x Javier Peña Summary: two DEA agents come to your apartment to extract information from you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dark. Noncon/dubcon Degradation, dacryphilia, threesome, oral (f/m), whiskey bottle, choking, spitting, slapping, pussy slapping, spanking, unprotected piv, light rimming, creampies. No age specified a/n: @toxicanonymity this is for you 🖤 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for everything 💕🫶 The title is from some lyrics of Tear you apart by She wants revenge

ao3 | masterlist

You were used to being afraid during your work. Sometimes, you were afraid in the streets of Bogota, on your way home. But you had never been afraid at home. It was your sanctuary, a safe place, where what you had to do with your clients didn’t interfere.

When you opened your door and removed the key from the lock, you were just thinking about the evening you were going to spend, in peace, even though it was already late at night. Until you saw a silhouette of a man, sitting at your dining room table. In fear, you screamed and turned towards the door, thinking of escaping. But the door closed before you reached it, and a second figure, previously hidden behind the open door, appeared. You stopped in your tracks, transfixed, wondering what was happening.

The second man turned on the light. He was blond, with a mustache. A leather jacket and jeans. His gun was sticking out of the front of his pants, and you recognized him. A DEA agent, who sometimes hung out near the brothel where you worked. You've heard his name before, Murphy. Steve, as far as you remembered. And now you had little doubt about the identity of the other man, as they were always together when you saw them. Javier Peña. You turned towards him anyway, and his piercing black gaze was fixed on you. You saw his tongue press against his upper lip as he looked you over from head to toe. They had fucked some of the girls at the brothel before, but never you.

Your mind was racing. Two DEA agents who broke into your apartment. You didn't use, you didn't have anything at home that could get you in trouble with the DEA. So whatever they were looking for, it was in vain.

“What are you doing at my place?” you dared to ask, putting on a confident voice.

Steve tilted his head to the side and smiled, before coming to sit across from his coworker, and putting his feet on the table.

“Uh, excuse me? What the fuck you think you’re doing?”

“We want information, cariño. You give it to us, and we leave. Simple as that,” Peña said. 

“I don’t do drugs. I don’t know who gave you my name, but your source is crap.”

Peña turned to Murphy and they smiled at each other. 

“She’s cute”, Steve said.

“Get the fuck out of here now,” you barked, before walking towards the door. You didn't have time to realize what was happening before one of them stood up, grabbed one of your arms with one hand, and your throat with the other. He pushed you against the wall and whispered in your ear “you ain’t going anywhere, baby.”

Eyes wide, you said “what the fuck?”, and looked up at Steve’s face, inches from yours. What scared you the most wasn't his hands on you. It was his eyes. They were icy and unempathetic, and you felt your hairs stand up.

“Come on, Steve. Be nice. Don’t scare her,” Javi sneered.

Steve smiled, in a too carnal way to reassure you, and released you before going to lean against the table. You rubbed your wrist and your mind was racing at 100 miles per hour trying to understand what they were doing there, what they wanted from you.

Javi got up and approached you, and even though you wanted to step back towards the wall, you didn't want to feed them with your fear. So you didn’t move.

“So, cariño. Like I said, we need information. About your side activities with Escobar guys.”

Fuck, how do they know? you thought.

“I don’t know-”

You didn't have time to finish your sentence, when Javi slapped you. You put your hand to your cheek, and this time you no longer held back the fear that twisted your stomach.

“Don’t offend me, cariño. You’re starting to piss me off.”

You lowered your head, heart racing.

“If I tell you about it, I’m dead”, you murmured.

“Well… if you don’t tell us, you’re dead too,” Steve replied with a smirk.

“Yeah? Well you can shoot me then, let’s get it over with.” A surge of courage, or stupidity, pushed you to answer them before you had time to think about it.

Javi slapped you again, with the back of his hand, and your head spun. You heard Steve say “wooooooo”, giggling, as if Javi's attitude announced the start of a good time.

“Stop it, please,” you begged. You looked at them, your eyes now full of tears, and Javi told you, “oh baby… if I were you, I’d dry those tears. It turns Steve on.”

“W…what?”

“Well… I have no doubt you’ll tell us what we wanna know. But I have doubts about the state of you, when we leave.”

You heard Steve laugh again. Javi moved closer to you, his face inches from yours. He smelled of cigarettes and cologne. You had the feeling that you could never forget this scent.

“Tell us about Blackie.”

You shook your head. 

"No?" Javi said. “Mmmm ok. El León? La Quica?”

You lowered your head even more.

"No? Tell us about Gacha, then.” 

You took a step back, and Steve said, “Well, well. Seems like someone knows that asshole”.

“Please”, you begged. “He’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, well… That’s the problem with dealing with bad guys. Lucky for you, we’re good guys.” 

“What do you wanna know”, you murmured.

“How does this bastard fuck? I’m curious,” Steve asked, and Javi chuckled before stepping aside to let Steve approach.

“You know what, baby? I think we should compare. We should fuck you too, and you’ll tell us who’s doing it better, between him and us.”

Tears came to your eyes again, and Steve added, “Oh, baby. You should have listened to my partner. Tears turn me on.”

He pressed himself against you, his bulge against your pussy, covered only by your panties and a short dress. And damn, he was hard.

“Ok baby, I’ll tell you what. We’re gonna fuck you, and you’ll tell us what we wanna know. If you’re a good girl, we will try not to damage you too much. What do you think about that?"

Without waiting for your answer, he turned to Javi, and said, “That seems like a reasonable offer, right?”

“Shit, yeah. Couldn’t be nicer.” He took off his leather jacket and placed it on the back of the chair, as if what was happening right now was the most natural thing in the world.

Steve turned to you again and saw your eyes lost in the void. A tear running down your cheek. Taking your chin in his hand, he turned your face to the side, before licking away your tear.

“Delicious”, he smirked. “I wonder if your pussy tastes as good.”

He readjusted the bulge in his jeans.

“Ok baby, all this seduction was nice, but we gotta get our dicks wet. How do you wanna fuck this one, Javi?”

“Wanna bang her a little on the table. Wanna see if her pussy’s worth it. Tight enough to feel something when I fuck it, with all the cocks she took, you know?” 

“Ok baby, you heard the agent? Go bend over, and spread those legs.”

You tried to get out of his grip, but of course he was too strong for you. He grabbed your forearms and pulled you towards the table, before pushing you forward against it. Javi positioned himself behind you and kicked one of your legs apart before pulling your dress up to your waist. He held your chest pressed against the table with one hand, while with the other he unzipped his jeans and took out his cock. He brushed it against your folds after tearing your panties.

“She wet?”, Steve asked.

“Not yet. She will be. Come on cariño, imagine I’m one of your clients. But instead of getting paid, you stay alive. And you get a good fuck by two fat cocks.”

He rubbed the head of his cock along your folds, and you could feel it was long and thick.

“Come on cariño, don’t wanna tear you apart.” He leaned into you, his torso pressed against your back, and grabbed your hair in his fist. “Don’t play shy, tonight you’ll gladly bounce on our cocks, I promise.” He was still sliding his cock against you, gently, and you felt your body react. And somehow, you were grateful for it.

“That’s it, soak me. This pussy wanna get fucked. And you know it”, he said in your ear, as he now pressed his cock at your entrance, pushing it in slightly. Steve walked over to the table and looked at you, your cheek pressed against the wood.

“That’s it, baby, be a good girl”, he said.

Javi thrusted in slowly, spreading your walls.

“Oh fuck, she’s tight”, he growled.

Steve caressed your cheek, and mocked “oh baby… No more tears for me? The slut’s starting to enjoy this, Javi.” He readjusted himself again.

“Of course she does. What’s better than a big cock in a tight pussy?”

He was fucking you slowly, giving your pussy time to get used to his size, his fist still clenching your hair. You heard him breathing loudly against your ear and you couldn’t help but get turned on by the way he was fucking you. He was good at it. Much better than most of your clients. And for the moment, you didn't even think about Gacha anymore, and what they expected from you.

He pulled out of you slowly, and said “ok, your turn Steve. Taste that cunt, man.”

Steve grabbed your arm and turned you around, your ass on the edge of the table.

“Lie still, baby.”

He spread your legs and told Javi “fuck, look at that. The whore’s drippin’.”

He knelt down and dove between your thighs, spreading your folds with his hands, his tongue lapping from your hole to your clit.

“Spread them more for me, baby. Put your feet on the table.”

You were turned on, and you did as he said, not even trying to fight anymore. His tongue now buried in your pussy, you heard him moan and you guessed from the friction of his shoulder against you that he was jerking off. You tried to stop yourself from grabbing his head in your hands to press him against you, not realizing that you were undulating your hips to the rhythm of his tongue.

“She’s fucking moaning... Come on cariño, moan on my cock now”, Javi urged you, pressing his cock against your lips. You opened them without thinking, letting him sink into your mouth. You felt your taste on him, mixed with his precum, and fuck, that was good.

Steve's tongue left your hole and moved up to your clit, placing his lips around it and circling around with the tip of his tongue. He released his cock and pushed two fingers into your pussy. You were so wet that he immediately added a third, making you groan against Javi’s cock.

“Make her come”, he said. “Wanna fuck that cunt again.”

When you came on Steve's tongue, Javi pushed himself all the way down your throat and held you against him until your moans stopped, making you choke on it, praising you with some “there it is, look at that… cuming on your tongue and choking on my cock.” You caught your breath with relief when he pulled out. Just before getting up, Steve slapped your pussy, making you jump, and spat on your clit, running his thumb over it one last time. The overstimulation made you shiver.

Javi settled himself between your thighs, and he rested his cock against your folds, his balls against the groove of your ass.

“You’re soaked. You get off like that when Gacha’s fucking you?”

He slid his shaft against your folds, waiting for your response. Seeing that you didn't answer, he slapped your clit, making you gasp.

“No! Fuck… No I don’t.”

“Tell me, cariño, why is that? He got a small dick?”

You sighed, and replied “yeah.”

“Mmm, I was sure of it. You got to have a small dick to need to compensate with a fucking bazooka.” He sank in one go, hitting the bottom, and you said “oh god!”. His hands tight on your thighs, he fucked you quickly, not giving you time to get used to it. Steve came over and asked if you had any whiskey.

“What?”

“Whiskey??”

“The fuck…. in the kitchen cabinet.”

He brought the bottle back and took a sip from the neck before spilling some on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of Javi’s hips. This made him laugh, and Javi leaned down to lick your alcohol covered tits, buried deep in your pussy, before fucking you again. You had difficulty resisting the urge to slide your fingers through his brown curls.

“Give me that bottle, Steve. And maybe we should handcuff her.”

“Nah… I like it when they fight a little.”

Javi snickered as he grabbed the bottle, and again you felt fear grip you. Why would they handcuff you? He took a sip too, before pulling out of you. “I think we can make this cheap whiskey taste better,” he said, then pressed the bottle against your entrance.

“No! No, wait!!!”

"Shut up. If you can take my cock, you can take it. For your safety I’ll be gentle.” You heard Steve laugh, as Javi pushed it in, while rotating your clit under his thumb.

“No, please, stop it!”

You didn't see the slap coming. Just heard the thud, and felt your cheek burn.

“Shut up,” he said, “Don’t make us repeat it.”

Just after slapping you, Steve grabbed your wrists in his hands, and positioned himself behind your head, on the other side of the table, facing Javi.

“Fuck her with it, Javi, I’ve got her.”

Javi slid the bottle further, continuing to stroke your clit with his thumb.

“Come on, cariño. Squeeze that bottle, cum on it. I know you can do it.”

You had encountered perverted clients before, but never to the point where they wanted to fuck you with a bottle. Despite the worry that he might hurt you, you forced yourself to relax, to make it easier. His thumb was helping you, too.

“Open your mouth, baby”, asked Steve.

You opened, and he spit in it. “Good girl,” he said, stroking your chin as you swallowed his saliva.

“How is she takin’ it?”

“Like a pro,” Javi laughed, and added, “well, she is, right?”

He tilted the bottle to pour some whiskey into your pussy, before removing it and sticking his tongue in your core, drinking the mixture of alcohol and wetness. The taste on his tongue was driving him crazy.

“Oh my god…Fuck”, you stammered. He kept licking, thirsty, starved, going down to your ass, where the whiskey had spilled.

Then he slid back the bottle in you, his thumb back on your clit, and you felt a new orgasm coming, already built by his tongue. You didn’t even try to hold it back, letting Javi’s thumb work your clit until you came all over the bottle.

“Fuck, look at that Steve! The whore is filling the bottle!”

He removed the bottle and took a sip, then passed it to Steve. He licked it before placing the bottle against his lips and drinking from it too.

“Way cheaper, thanks, baby,” he added, patting your cheek.

The degradation made you blush.

“Okay, remember I told you that soon you’d be bouncing on our cocks? Couch, now.” Javi grabbed your arm and led you to the couch where he sat down.

“Ride me. Wanna fill that pussy.”

You straddled him and took his cock in your hand, before gently impaling yourself on it.

“Oh fuck,” you said.

“Stop whining. Bounce on it now,” he said, and spanked you.

Your hands placed on his shoulders for support, you sank onto his cock, helped by his hands gripping your buttocks with each movement, then let you fall on his dick. Each time, he hit the bottom, and the pleasure mixed with the pain of his cock sinking too far.

Steve walked over, cock in his hand, and said, “time to fuck that mouth, baby.”

You slowed down the pace on Javi's cock so you could take Steve in your mouth, undulating your hips against Javi, and rubbing your clit against him.

Steve slid his cock into your mouth. It was slightly thicker than Javi’s, and your lips were barely able to take him in. You looked up at him as you let him set his pace. His icy gaze hadn't completely disappeared, and you told yourself that this man would be capable of destroying you while smiling, if he decided.

“Fuck, what a sight,” Javi said. “You’re pretty, cariño. I can't believe you let a guy like Gacha fuck you. Such a waste."

Your clit was still rubbing against Javi, and you came the third time, squeezing his cock with each spasm, your mouth full of Steve’s shaft.

“Fuck… this cunt’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard… ah fuck!!” he spilled his cum in you, while your walls were still contracting. You had barely finished cumming when Steve pulled out of your mouth and grabbed your arm, dragging you to the table and bending you over it. 

“Now, be good and take it”, he said, thrusting in immediately, in a slow powerful push, hands digging into your hips.

​“Oh fuck you’re right, she’s so tight. You often get fucked by two guys?”

“No.. No I don’t.”

“That’s… fuck… a fuckin’… shame.”

He cut off each word with a movement of his hips where he thrusted into you ever harder.

“There’s nothing better than the feeling of a pussy already filled with cum.” He grunted every time he hit the bottom, and you were barely able to keep yourself on the table. Each thrust threw you forward, and each time he gripped harder to thrust deeper in your pussy.

You had difficulty standing on your legs, the feeling of being reduced to a doll was amplified by your weak legs, like cotton.

He forced you to turn your head to the side to look at him and said “look at me, baby. You look at me when I’m ruining your cunt.”

You tried to hold on to the edge of the table to control the movements as much as possible but he didn't give you any respite, pounding your pussy incessantly.

“Gonna fill you too…Shit. Gonna fill that fuckin’ slut cunt.”

He grunted, and thrusted in one last time, freezing deep inside your pussy, and you felt warm trickles of cum lining your walls. You finally relaxed against the table, waiting for him to finish cumming, releasing the pressure of your fingers on the wood. 

He pulled out, spanked you and chuckled. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took another sip before passing it to Javi who had moved closer to the table. He then handed it to you, saying, “drink, cariño.”

“You’re fuckin’ twisted....” 

You drank, and they laughed. 

“Okay, baby. It was fun. Now tell us about Gacha. Give us all the info. Unless you want a second round? We didn’t fuck you with our guns, yet,” Steve said, grabbing his revolver. 

His icy gaze was back.

********************

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[whatswrongwithblue]

Girl Talk

Part 4 of my Imagines with Angel Dust

You sat down on the sofa in the hotel lounge, nursing your morning coffee and your ego. Almost everyone else seemed to have somewhere better to be that morning and you didn’t know where any of them had went. Even Alastor had disappeared in the early morning hours; you barely remembered the kiss he had left on your forehead as you sleepily mumbled some kind of words of endearment before he slipped away.

That left you alone in the hotel, once again, with only the company of Angel and Husk.

It was still relatively early when you had dragged yourself out of bed and without Niffty or Alastor to make a pot of coffee for everyone, you had taken yourself for a nice morning stroll and gotten an iced boba coffee and bagel before returning to the hotel – the people in Hell could be awful but at least there was decent fast food. The trip had killed some time and given you some space from the uncomfortably vacant hotel.

You caught the spider’s eye as soon as you walked into the room and though he pretended to look innocent as he took a seat next to you, you kept glancing at him over the edge of your newspaper. But he just sat there, scrolling through his phone, and looking bored. After a few moments you let yourself settle in and get lost in the morning paper.

“So who gives better dick?”

You choked on your coffee as Angel had purposefully waited until you were taking a hearty sip from your straw before asking.

“Who . . . what?!” you sputtered, still coughing up droplets of coffee with every breath.

Angel smirked.

“You didn’t exactly give me an answer the other night. Ssoooo . . . Alastor or his shadow? Who fucks you better?”

Of course.

Your face was already red from coughing so luckily you could easily disguise your blushing reaction.

Getting yourself composed, you raised an eyebrow at Angel.

“Alastor really could kill you, you know. Like . . . permanently. So that you don’t respawn.” You raised your newspaper up to your face, dismissing Angel and effectively ending the conversation.

You saw Angel’s fingers reach over the top of your newspaper and pull it down, revealing his smiling face just inches from yours.

“You’ve gotta tell me; how realistic can that thing get? It is all warm and silky like a real cock- ”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Husk said from his bar and stormed out of the room.

 “- or is it cold?” Angel continued, not letting himself be interrupted. “Cause I gotta say, those tentacles felt nice and cool. I bet it feels really nice once he gets you all hot and bothered.”

“You are a menace! And what makes you think his shadow and I have ever done anything like that?”

“Like I said,” Angel said with a smug look, “I know a guilty look when I see one. Sex is what I do, toots, so all I gotta do is keep flinging mud your way until I see something stick in your expression.”

“Angel,” you said, your voice low with warning. “Alastor will hurt you.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Angel shrugged and leaned away, looking at his phone and resting his back against the armrest of the sofa and spreading his long legs out intrusively across your lap.

You scoffed and got back to trying to ignore your friend. Several more minutes had gone by before Angel spoke up again.

“You know what I think?”

“I don’t care,” you say but Angel continued.

“He’s got total voyeur vibes. I bet he gets off watching you and his shadow getting it on.”

You sigh, using every ounce of self-restraint to keep your expression neutral.

Angel sat forward, his legs still across your lap, and squinted at you.

You side-eyed him, smirking a little at his attempt to read your face.

“Okay, okay,” Angel chuckled and nodded his head. “You’re getting better at this. Challenge accepted.” He made two of his hands into finger guns and winked at you. “This ain’t over, honey.”

You tried to play it cool and look confident but as you took a sip of your coffee, a boba got stuck in the straw and you fumbled awkwardly trying to dislodge it, your cheeks hollowing out with the effort.

“Wow, you really suck at sucking,” Angel said with a laugh.

“Well you won’t hear any complaints from me,” Alastor said from behind the couch and Angel scrambled quickly to get his legs off your lap, nearly falling off the couch as he did so.

“Fucking hell!” Angel shouted.

You didn’t react, since you were used to Alastor’s sudden appearances, but you did give a little half smile as Angel struggled to regain his composure.

“Good morning, my darling,” Alastor said, leaning over the back of the couch and you obliged him a quick kiss to the cheek.

“Oh, and Angel . . .” Alastor turned towards the still flustered younger man, letting his features twist into a glowing green, wide and malicious smile. “I like to watch my shadow do . . . all kinds of things.”

Angel never found out where it was he took you after that warning. Alastor simply whisked you away, making both your bodies disappear into black streaks that left the room. Probably to fuck but knowing Alastor, it could have all been just for dramatic display. It was just as likely that you two lovebirds were innocently sharing a morning coffee and catching up in another room.

The gangly spider demon sat alone on the sofa for a minute, unable to stop himself from looking nervously around the room, despite his earlier confidence that Alastor wouldn’t harm him.

After a few minutes, he finally stood, deciding he would feel a lot more comfortable if he had company and went to find where Husk had stormed off to.

Angel turned around and came face to face with Alastor’s shadow.

He just about pissed himself as it spread out, growing taller and wider, its unnaturally large hands reaching out above him, its smile even more unnerving than its master’s.

Instead of screaming, Angel was able to quickly collect himself, and with a suggestive smirk, leaned casually against the arm of the sofa.

“Well hey there . . . big daddy.”

Alastor’s shadow stopped midair, tilting its head at Angel and narrowing its eyes in what almost looked like annoyance before darting away.

Angel rolled his eyes.

“Pffftttt, what a bunch of prudes.”

Part 5

@inuhalfdemon @readergirlstuff @thereallsaturnstar @somefancybb @moonstarrs11 @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @speedycoffeedelight @saturn-alone @whoknowswhoiamtoday @quill-to-book

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You were doing up the buttons on your flannel when you heard Daryl grumbling behind you. 

“I hate rubbers.”

You chuckled, putting your hands on the nape of your neck and pushing outward to coax your hair out of the shirt. The man had done as you asked all those weeks ago, returning to the next meetup with condoms in hand. You had left it up to him to dispose of them afterward, earning an amusing curl of his lip. 

“So,” you began, plopping down on the ground, “guess what.”

Daryl zipped up his own pack and shrugged it over his shoulders, raising a brow at you with his usual expression of indifference. “We gonna start cuddlin’ after too?”

“Shut up. It’s not just every day conversation, asshole. I’m late.”

“Ya got a curfew now?” He scoffed, snatching his crossbow up off the ground to slide the strap over his right shoulder. 

“No, idiot. I mean, my period is late.”

“How ya even keep up with that now?” He was still standing, fingers of his left hand tapping nervously against his hip while he chewed on the skin of his right thumb. Uncomfortable again. 

“I always kept a little date book in my bag before things went to shit. Just started marking off days when we came up here. Hoping this would all end and life could go back to—well, being life.” You picked up a twig and started breaking small sections off, not really wanting to look at him. “I’m 6 days late, which is pretty odd for me.”

“I don’t need the details. D’ya need a test or somethin’?”

“I will if it doesn’t come soon, yeah.” You tossed the stick down and got to your feet, dusting off your hands on your thighs. “Probably should do it next week if it’s still not happening.”

The man was a ball of anxiety, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. You watched him warily, waiting for him to bolt and that would be that. If you were pregnant, you’d be in it alone.

“I’ll make a run an’ see if I can find one.” He finally said after a few minutes of unnerving silence, shouldering his string of squirrels. You blinked at him, eyes as big as saucers. “What? Said we’d deal with it an’ I meant it.”

“I’ll go with you then.” 

“Nah, I got it. Just bring it next week.” He sniffed, looking down at his boots as he kicked at the ground. “Ain’t no reason for ya to go out in that mess.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being protective.”

He scoffed, scrunching his nose in a way you could almost say was adorable. “Just don’t need ya trippin’ me up.”

Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest, deciding whether or not to argue with him. It was something that involved the both of you. You’d feel horrible if something happened to him while he was trying to take care of it alone. And you’d never know. He’d just never show up again, leaving you to wonder if he had simply bailed or—

“I’m going too.”

“No, ya ain’t.” He snapped while you picked up your rifle and the three rabbits you’d bagged. You started walking, leaving him trailing behind you with his stomping feet and flared nostrils. “Ya ain’t goin’!”

“You gonna stop me?” You asked, not missing a step. You heard him pause before his boots moved faster to catch back up with you. “I’m a big girl, Dixon. I can handle myself.” 

“Fine. Whatever.”

You only encountered two geeks at the base of the mountain. Daryl took out one with a bolt between the eyes while you handled the other with your hunting knife. His scowl was thoroughly in place by the time you were cleaning the dark blood from the blade with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. You knew it was because you had to get close to the corpse to kill it. You couldn’t risk firing your gun when so many others could close by. 

The two of you were crouched in the bushes, the pharmacy across the street in the little town in clear view. Three geeks shuffled aimlessly in different directions, making it difficult to find a way straight through. 

“Maybe one of us could distract them?” You suggested. “I could go out over there, make some noise and draw them off while you go inside.” You looked over to find him staring at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What?”

“You’re the one that knows whatcha need in there. I’ll handle the geeks.”

You really couldn’t argue with that. There were so many different tests for pregnancy, ovulation, and other things, Daryl would probably bring out the entire shelf and still not have what you needed. With a nod, you watched him make his way down the ditch, staying low. His eyes met yours briefly and, with a jerky nod, he left the cover of the foliage and whistled, waving his arms. 

You waited for an opening, nearly leaping out before two more corpses stumbled from the alley next to the pharmacy. “Fuck.” Daryl was going to be sorely outnumbered. Something in your gut twisted, the strong urge to stay and help the redneck, ensure he was safe, before you entered the pharmacy. He’d have your head if you dared. With another curse, you left your hiding place and dashed across the street, your steps that of a hunter—swift and silent. 

The pharmacy was blessedly clear, a few geeks sprawled out between aisles, clean holes in their skulls. Daryl had been there before. “So, this is where you got the condoms. You reckless son of a bitch.” You smirked, the knowledge that fucking you was enough fun to have him scurrying down the mountain for the means to continue. 

You grabbed two of each kind of test, deeming labels and specifications unnecessary when Daryl was outside fighting the undead to keep them off your back. The boxes were quickly shoved into your bag, and you were creeping back toward the door. Just as your hand touched the glass, a geek stumbled by. You quickly ducked and moved to the side, peeking around the magazine stand to ensure it had passed before you pushed the door open. 

There were at least 7 of them on the far end of the street, walking toward nothing you could see. Where was Daryl? You barely lifted a foot to step off the curb when an arm snaked around your waist and a hand clamped down over your mouth. 

“S’me. S’just me.” Daryl whispered against your ear. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you forced his hand away from your face and spun around to give him a shove. 

“You scared the shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled. 

“Got whatcha need?” He was already ushering you toward the trees across the street. You gave a sharp nod and ducked into the bushes, finally releasing a breath when you could look back and no longer see any trace of the town. 

“Well, that was fun.” 

Daryl snorted beside you, adjusting the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder. Once your heart rate slowed, you were able to settle back into your appreciation for the forest. So far, the turn had been unable to strip that away from you. The wildlife continued to flourish, seeing no difference between the dead and the living. Plants would grow. Flowers would bloom. Seasons would change. 

In some ways, life would go on. 

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You turned to find Daryl facing away from you. With a quick look around, you realized how long the two of you had really been walking. It was time to part ways. “Oh. Right. Heading back now?” 

“Nah. Gonna see if I can bag a deer. So, ‘nother day or two.” He was gnawing at his thumb again. 

“Right. Well. Three days, midday?” He nodded his agreement, those blue eyes of his flitting to your pack and back to you. You smiled through a strange feeling, pushing it down as he started to walk away. “See you then.”

“See ya.”

“Hey, daddy.” You smiled, finding your father sitting by the small fire when you parted the last bit of foliage to enter the camp. 

“Peanut, you’re back late. I was gettin’ worried!” He shifted in his wheelchair to sit straighter, smile wide and arms open. You leaned in for his offered hug, holding up the rabbits when you separated. 

“Got some meat for tomorrow.” You smiled for only a moment before looking around for the rest of your family. “Did they seriously leave you out here alone?”

“I’m fine, darlin’. Told ‘em to go on to bed and that I’d rather wait up for you.”

You gave him a pointed look, laying the rabbits aside to prep later. “Well, I’m here now. You should get some sleep.” 

“It’s early yet. Tell me how it was out there.”

You sat down in one of the fold-out chairs, toeing at the rocks surrounding the small fire. ��It’s quiet. It’s always quiet.”

“You see any of ‘em?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You shook your head. “I worry about you going out all alone.”

“I can handle myself, daddy.”

“I know you can, peanut. I just—wish you didn’t have to. It’s a parent’s job to worry about their kids, you know.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“You’re gonna give yourself gray hair with all the worrying. Oh shit, I think I see some from all the way over here!” You laughed with him for a while longer before the fire burned out and the camp was dark. 

You bolted upright in your sleeping bag, still groggy and not really remembering why it was you were awake in the first place. Rubbing your eyes, you sat there for a moment before deeming it time to get the day started. The sun was barely up but your uncles were already stirring if the sounds outside the tent were anything to go by. Your aunt had taken watch several hours earlier so she’d probably be sleeping now. 

Scratching at your scalp with a yawn, you glanced over at your open pack, the top corner of a box peeking out from beneath your jacket. You sighed, knowing you would need to take the test. You still hadn’t bled and you’d be meeting Daryl the next day. You groaned and grabbed your clothes, slipping on everything haphazardly while your uncles banged and clanged on everything they possibly could outside. Shrugging on your jacket, you unzipped the tent. 

“Jesus, some of us are still half asleep! Uncle James, could you put on some coffee for daddy before—”

Just as you began to crawl from your tent, a geek came barging in, teeth clicking and rotting fingers grabbing. You screamed and scrambled backwards, kicking at the corpse while your hand searched blindly for your knife. Another clumsily shoved its way inside, pinning one of your legs and leaving you just far enough from your weapon that your fingertips brushed the handle. 

Somewhere outside, your father was screaming. 

Chapter 3

[atzfilm]

the leaders. (m)

pairing/wc; woosan/f.reader, 14.7k summary; you wake up in a rusty cell, an oddly familiar helping you out. once you step out into the world, it hits you – this is in fact the wildwest, and somehow, the singers you adore are cowboys? content; wild-west au, violence, guns, murder, smut. overuse of cowboy terms/slang, obsessive behavior note; again, may seem familiar since i have written this before on a different blog with different characters ♡

You gasp, eyes flicking around. Bars surround you, dust underneath your fingertips. You move forward, tugging on the iron that prevents you from leaving. A groan leaves your lips.

“How the hell did I get in here?” You grumble.

“Pretty ladies like ya aren’t supposed to be cursing,” You hear a voice say behind you. You roll your eyes at the words and turn, eyes widening. He wears a long brown trench coat, leaning against the bricks behind him as he looks up, before his gaze meets yours. You could remember those bright eyes which are now partly covered by the shadow from his hat.

Choi San. And here he is, odd sounding and covered in dirt and grim, probably from trying to get out like you were just doing. But there’s something different about him. He doesn’t resemble the man you remember from the shows. More country is the only way you can describe it.

“I think you would curse too if you wake up in a cell,” you murmur. “Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at a show or something?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I ain’t no puppet, darling. And my boys will be here soon.” He stops talking, listening to the shouts outside. “Speaking of which…” He moves away from the wall, leaping forward to bring you into his arms. You shove against his chest, ready to cause a scene before the loud sound of a bomb exploding breaks your eardrums.

The walls blow down, San covering you with his body as debris flies. After a few more seconds, he kicks open the jail door with remarkable strength, running out. Before he jumps through the hole, he looks at you. You can see the gears running through his head as he thinks, before dusting off his black hat.

"We don't have all damn day, S!" A voice rings out, bringing you both back to reality. San rolls his eyes.

"Well, my chucklehead pal W over there could use some explaining to do, but he's not the ripest apple in the bunch," San points over to a man too far away for you to spot, his hand holding out for yours. "But I always have room to help a lady. Take my hand here, and I'll be off your back in a jiffy."

You stare at it for a moment before he takes in a big gulp of air, pulling you from the ground. You yelp, tumbling into his arms.

His smile widens as he sees how close you're pressed to his chest, a wicked grin plastered on his cheeks. "Ah, I don't seem to remember the last time a fine lady like yourself fell into my arms." He holds you back, tipping his hat once.

"S, I swear on my mom’s grave—!"

"Ah, I'm coming ya deadbeat!" He looks back at you sympathetically.

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to be more gentlemanly, my partners get a bit under the weather whenever I delay. I gotta hop on outta here before the sheriff comes and see what’s the hustle and bustle, but I do think I'll be seeing the likes of you soon enough." He nods his head once at you, before hopping onto his horse.

"See you in a hog killin' time, pretty lady!"

He coaxes the horse forward, yelling out a loud yip before galloping off. If you squint hard enough, you can see a few more horses running off into the sunset. Your mind runs miles per minute, glancing around. Old stables and buildings surround you, too real and old to be just an amusement park or a movie set. You walk slowly into town, glancing over at a poster that’s nailed into the side of a tree.

Wanted:

$10,000 REWARD!

Mischief group of bandits called “The Leaders”

Bribery, Murder, Thief

Please contact Sheriff Kim Hongjoong if spotted.

Portraits are displayed below, but one sticks out to you. One smile that you’ve seen just moments ago, busting you out of your prison cell that you have no idea how you got into. You blink slowly. Shit. Shit. You pinch your skin, wincing at the pain. So this isn’t just a dream. They are actually in the Wild West, and you’re… well, what are you?

"Hey there!"

Your head whips over to a man that's slowly walking over to you, his hands on his waist as he takes you in. Your eyes widen as you trail over his fingers. Spokes on the back of his boots, slacks dirty from wear and tear, pronounced belt head that still barely manages to keep his pants up. Best tucked into that, a silver sheriff's badge hanging on his shirt pocket. Your eyes flick up to his face, eyes popping out of your head as you realize who's standing in front of you. Hongjoong stands there, eyes narrowed as he takes you in.

"You don't look like you're from 'round here, young lady."

Young lady? There's barely a difference in your ages, not enough for him to speak like that to you. But you clear your throat, trying your best to sound at least a little like them.

"Howdy." Shit. For effort, you'd give yourself an A+, even though the grinding teeth and wink probably drops that down to a failure. His hand slowly wavers over his gun, and you could imagine this now. Being killed by Kim Hongjoong? Not sure if that's your life goal, but it's not a bad reputation to have. "What if I told you that I'm from the future?"

"I'd think you're trying to play games with me, miss," he says simply, slowly taking his hand away from his waist. "Where you from?"

Taking your chances and saying you don't remember is the best bet. If you even explained that he was from a popular band and you have no clue why you're suddenly transported into a wild west, starring them as if this is a horrible, yet fascinating dream. Amnesia path it is.

"I don't remember. I just woke up in a cell, and then this guy kicked me out of jail with dynamite? And he said something about having to leave and—"

"Wait one second!" Hongjoong holds up his hand. "You were involved in that escape that yahoo just did? Do you know each other?"

Yahoo. This man, with his full chest, really said yahoo. Trying to stifle back a laugh, you shake his head.

"I've never seen him in my life, and if I did I don't remember it. But," you gesture to the wanted poster next to you. "I'm assuming he's a notorious criminal."

Hongjoong paused, eyes flicking between you, your outfit, and the poster. He moves his hand away from his belt, crossing his arms as he sighs. "We've been trying to catch him and his group of bandits for months and we've just caught up with him. But yet again, he slips through our fingers." He runs his fingers through his hair, eyes moving to yours. "You couldn't be part of them anyway, too soft and they wouldn't be leaving any strays behind."

Wow. You don't know whether to be offended or pleased that he believes you. At least that gun of his isn't being pointed at you.

His gaze is focused on the destroyed wall behind you. "Why did he help you out, do you know? Because I don't even remember you being kept in there, but it's strange that he'd take the time to rescue a lady. Those men don't have any morals, at least any that I can see. Do you mind coming with me, miss...?"

He waits for your name expectantly.

"y/n. It's y/n. And I wouldn't be able to tell you why he helped me either, usually I'd say it's from the kindness of his heart but since he's a criminal..." you trail off.

He clicks his tongue, nodding once. "Ah, yes. Don't remember hearing your name round these parts neither. But your talk is a little fancier than mine, maybe you're from some town far away. I can bring you to the town doctor, but I'd rather we go on foot. Just in case you got something wrong with your organs or whatnot."

Hongjoong gestures in front of him, and you walk alongside him. "Do you know anything about our little town? Ah, wait," he rubs the back of his neck, a soft blush creeping on his cheeks. "You wouldn't know even if you did, since that memory loss of yours. We here are in a little town of mine called Mist."

...Mist.

"Not many folks pass by and stay, so most of these people you see walking down these streets are their mama and pop's third or fourth generation of family. We are a crop growing town, not a mining one. We aren't the richest or the poorest, just right in the middle. My pap and his pap before him were corn crackers, but I ended up being the sheriff, much to their dismay." He smiles down at you, his teeth shining in the burning sun. You'd never thought you'd be standing this close to him, but you'd rather not dwell on it.

It looks like Mist is ripped straight out of the history books. Streets lined with a saloon, a library, small homes and other knick knack shops. Rust covers most surfaces, horses neighing as you walk by. Your hand itches to pet the glossy fur, feel their hair between your fingers. But you know you'll just scare them off, and being kicked by that brunt force isn't on your agenda.

Hongjoong talks on and on about the history of his home, explaining that San used to be a citizen of it as well. "Strayed. Found that being here wasn't his cup of tea, wanted to make a name for himself. We were good pals back in the day, some would say brothers. But I wanted to walk the straight and narrow, and that was too good for him. Wonder what could've happened if I arrested him that day he robbed the general, what would've become of him." Hongjoong sighs.

"I still wanted to fix our friendship, you see. Even now, I still see the good in him, between his robbing and stealing. I see the Choi San who wanted to be a farmer when he was younger, before he banded the Leaders."

"Do you know the other people who are a part of it?" You ask, and Hongjoong shrugs.

"All we know is that there's many of them. W, a few others, and San. Our people haven't been able to identify anyone but San and a few others, since they are the face of the group. Know him enough that he'll keep the people he cares about hidden. Kept away from the public eye. Which makes me think why you aren't someone special to him," he smiles at you. "Not sure if you'd want to be, miss. Being with him only leads down a treacherous path. Full of murder and blood on your hands."

"I'll keep that in mind," you nod softly. Is this what San would be like in an alternate world? In this alternate reality? Dangerous, full of anger and greed? You just can't imagine the kind man being that cruel. There has to be more behind it, more than Hongjoong even knows.

He clears his throat, standing in front of a door. He knocks once, glancing down at you. "Doc should be in."

The door flings open, showing the town doctor. You should be used to it, seeing the members hanging around. But seeing Choi Jongho in all of his glory, standing in front of you only makes you smile, your mouth struggles to hold back your squeal of delight. He smiles at Hongjoong, before looking at you.

"Ah, what do we have here? Another one of your one nights, Hongjoong? Have you slipped up again?"

Hongjoong hits his arm, his ears burning red. "You know I'm a gentleman, doc. Don't make miss y/n assume things about me!"

Jongho grins, leaning against the door. "Ah, but you’re known as the town heart breaker. So many of our ladies throw themselves at you and you don't budge. Some even thought you swing the other way," he winks. "Not that I would mind. Patient room's always open for you. And for you, miss y/n. What seems to be the problem?"

Whiplash. The only way you can describe it as pure whiplash. This man is a mystery in itself.

"I'm at a loss," Hongjoong mumbles, scratching his head. "She ended up in a cell, next to San and he let her go? Can't recall anything before that."

"Ah, amnesia." Jongho opens his door wider. "Mind taking a seat? Just want to make sure your head is screwed on okay and you don't have any injuries," his eyes flick to your arms. "Although I already see some bruising on those pretty arms a' yours."

You walk into his office, Hongjoong following as they shut the door behind the three of you. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality? Did they not practice it here?

“Usually the sheriff wouldn’t be with a female patient,” Jongho explains, walking over to his tool table. The list of items there are very limited; bandages, an assortment of drugs, syringes, and a few knives here and there. He grabbed what you can only assume is a stethoscope, turning to you. “But this is an extenuating circumstance, is it not?”

He glances over at Hongjoong for a moment, before asking you to breathe in and out as he listens to your heartbeat, looking for any oddities. Hongjoong looks away, his ears burning red. The only thing this sheriff could do is blush, but you don’t mind it. It’s endearing, how he hunts down criminals but turns red when he’s watching you being examined.

“Are you nervous, doll?” Jongho asks, raising a brow at you. “Your heartbeat is rapid, like you just chased a herd of rabbits!”

Hell yes, you’re nervous. Jongho is literally inches away from your face, measuring your heart rate. Who wouldn’t be jumping out of their socks? Oh no. Your thoughts, they’ve turned cowboy and it’s only been a little over an hour.

“A bit,” you confess. “Not really sure where I am or how I got here. Just want to go home, wherever that is.” A small white lie. If you’re really dreaming, hanging out with the men in the wild west isn’t such a bad experience.

“Ah,” he mumbles, resting the scope on his neck. “Does your head hurt? Any throbbing feeling in your limbs?” You shake your head. “Hm, well this is a bit odd, if I think about it.”

“What’s odd?” Hongjoong asks, finally turning back.

“Don’t see any signs of injuries besides her physical cuts and bruises,” He grabs the homemade bandages off the counter. “But this could be something we can’t quite see from our eyes, Joong. Might be some brain disturbance. Can tell she aint lying about the amnesia,” he crouches in front of you, wiping your arm with the antibiotic, lightly wrapping the gauze around your arm. “Has those honest eyes. Bright,” Jongho smiles at you. “Reminds me a bit of Hwa-”

“Ya know not to mention him,” Hongjoong utters, Jongho sighing softly.

“Times are different, you know. Maybe he’ll come back to Mist, see the brighter sides of things…”

“He won’t. San manipulated him. His parents are still in a rut over it.” Hongjoong rubs his neck.

Seonghwa. So he’s part of San’s rebel squad as well. You’d like to ask more about it, but prying into their lives would only make you look suspicious, and you’d rather stay under the radar. Even though Jongho believes you, not everyone will. You’d end up in one of their hospitals rather than home. Somewhere you’d at least want to see one last time.

“But we should bring y/n to the motel. Yeosang owes me a favor, anyway. At least until she recalls her home.” Hongjoong glances at you. “A ways away, it would be better to take Angel.”

“Angel?” You ask, and Hongjoong’s eyes light up.

“My lady. You’d like her, she’s the sweetest gal in this town.”

Jongho rolls his eyes. “Stubborn. Can’t get her to listen to a word, gets all ruffled up. But she might like you, she prefers women.” Jongho clears his throat, stretching his back. “Time for a nap, don’t you say? Keep mind of your head condition, and I’ll give you some bandages. Nothing really happens ‘round here, so we have a large supply.” He passes you a roll. “Fixing to see you ‘round here more often, yea? Maybe Joong will have a more special lady.”

Hongjoong scoffs, his hair growing as red as a tomato. You’d definitely not get used to it. “Ah, shut your mouth, Jongho. Let’s go, ‘fore he makes up some more nonsense.” Hongjoong opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead.

You hop off the stool, “Thank you, Jongho. Hopefully, I see you without bandaids.”

His eyes sparkle. “Please do. It gets lonely ‘round here without some company. Leave Joong behind, I’ll show ya a good time.” He winks, watching as you go.

-

Hongjoong stands in front of a horse, patting her coat softly, feeding her a carrot. “Hey there, Angel. How’s it goin’, beautiful lady?” He whispers, his smile the widest you’ve seen it. “This here’s y/n, a visitor that’ll ride me with you, so don’t be too mean. Can’t have her runnin’ to the Leaders.”

Hongjoong looks at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. You roll your eyes. Tentatively, you run your fingers along her coat. She whines, moving closer to your touch. Hongjoong nods appreciatively. “She likes you, so that means you're a good one.”

“You’re beautiful, Angel,” You said, and she neighs, pressing her face into your cheek. “How did a lady like you end up with a scruffy sheriff like him?”

A groan falls from Hongjoong lips. “Hey, I grew up with her, mind you! Took care of each other, feeding each other. This’ my best friend, right here.” Hongjoong presses his lips to her coat, before tugging on her saddle, leaping up onto her back with ease. He holds out his hand for you, and you stare at the height.

No fucking way.

“Never hopped on a horse before?” he teases, but you nod. Shock crosses his face. “Wait, you ain’t kidding?”

“I’ve never been this close to a horse.”

He blinks quickly. “Ah, you must be from the city, then. Everyone for miles has been on a horse since a babe. Give me your hand, miss. Won’t be too hard to help you hop on her. You’ll be sitting in front of me, so make sure you don’t fall off the saddle.”

“… Can’t we just walk?”

Hongjoong’s eyes almost boggle out of his head. “What? Did I hear that correctly? It’s a long walk, miss. Too far. And you just been in a traumatic accident, can’t have you falling to the dirt from lack of breathing. Easy once you get the hang of it. Trust me, you'll be clean and clear.”

You grab his hand as he instructs you to put your foot into the stirrup, pulling you up with his full strength. You’re surprised at how strong he is, the lack of effort shown on his face as you sit in the saddle with him. You're partly sitting on his lap, and you’re thankful this time that you don’t have the chance to see his face.

“Keep your self pressed against me, alright? And hold on to that horn- yes, that. We’ll be going slower for you but once you get used to Angel, we’ll gallup the rest a’ ways.”

Hongjoong flicks the straps, and Angel walks forward. You yelp, your hands clawing into his thighs. His breathy laughs tickle your ears. “Ah, you’re definitely gotta be from one of those fancy places. It’s cute.”

“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Sheriff,” You grumble, only causing him to laugh louder.

“And the fancy words too. You'll be fine, I’m here for you, and we won’t be burning the breeze so you needn’t worry ‘bout that.”

You hold on tightly the rest of the way there, Angel slowly going into a steady gallop. Hongjoong chats your ear off about everything and anything, and you’re grateful for his presence. The stardom away, he’s just like anyone else. At least, in the cowboy sense. He’s funny and charming, and you’re a bit curious as to why he hasn’t snagged himself a partner in life yet. From what Jongho says, he’s popular. Popular enough to reject everyone that’s ever appeared.

“Are your standards high?” You ask after a joke of his.

You can’t see his face, but you can only imagine his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pardon, miss?”

“Doctor Jongho was talking about how you reject everyone that’s interested in you, and I was just wondering why, as all. I mean, you seem like a good guy from what I can see, I just don’t understand why you haven’t picked someone special for you. Even Jongho was interested.”

Hongjoong quiet as Angel walks on the grassy path. You quickly think you’ve overstepped, opening your mouth to apologize.

“I didn’t mean to- pry.

“No need to say any sorries, miss.” You hear Hongjoong rub the slight scruff on his face, thinking. “All of their advances felt disingenuous,” he confesses. “They wanted to be involved with me because of my position, not my personality. As you can see, I don’t lack in that department.”

You laugh, not seeing the smile that graces his lips.

“Haven’t gotten along with any people except for long time pals a’ mine. Kinda hard to meet new folks when you're in a town like ours, you see. Same folks and same faces day to day. Gets a bit dry.”

“So I assume that you’re happy that I’m here,” You joke.

You don’t see the panic crossing his face, the gulp as he looks away from your head for a moment. “I am, miss y/n. You bring bit a’ spring to my step… Ah, we’re here!” He reigns in Angel, resting her at the stall slightly away from the building. It’s only two floors high, but it’s long, probably home to a dozen or so rooms. Hongjoong hops off of Angel, holding out his arms as he helps you down.

You trip a bit falling off, landing in his arms. He steadies you easily, the usual pink on his face. “Should be more careful, miss. Some men aren’t as kind as myself.”

“Oh, you kind?” You hear a laugh, and turn to the new voice. Blond hair tucked into a hat, he leans against a pole that holds up the building, looking between the both of you. “Not used to seeing the Sheriff entertaining traveling folks. Assuming that you’re y/n?” His eyes flick to you, and you nod. “Ah, the woman spotted with one of those Leader men. Surprised you didn’t arrest her immediately, Sherriff. Loose ends don’t end up tied ‘round here as of late.”

“Ah, Yeosang, be nice for once, will you? She’s not involved with ‘em. Can’t even think back to before today. One of those fancy folk, you know? Probably came from the city.”

Yeosang’s eyes trail over your figure, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your clothing. You’re wearing a t-shirt and jeans, completely different from the corsets that you’ve seen the women wear around there. You wished that Hongjoong offered something so you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but to no avail. And you’re a guest to this town, so asking for something when you’re already unwelcomed would be pushing the little luck that you have.

“Didn’t think to give her a new pair of those? She’s practically in the nude in that wear.” He leans up from his spot, walking over to the both of you. His walk is lazy, stare matching. He holds up a bit of hay to Angel, her eating it out of his hands as he eyes Hongjoong. “No wonder you wanted to ride Angel over here. Haven’t felt another in a bit, hm?”

“You and Doctor Jongho seem to like to tease,” You say, earning a raised brow from him.

“Joong here grew up with us. Feed the same bread and wore the same trousers. Families closer than two peas in a pod. Joking is in our blood. Would ya like a new pair of clothes? Get you in something that won’t make the men ‘round here ogle you , their minds aren’t that pure as you can see.” He gestures to Hongjoong standing just feet away from you. “Didn’t even bother offering, his dirty mind.”

“Hey-!”

“I would like that, thank you. But, could I wear some trousers instead? Those skirts are too tight fitting and I can’t move in them.”

Yeosang’s grin slowly spreads across his face as he looks at you. “Thinking that I’ll like you more than the other misses he brings ‘round. Anything you need, miss y/n. Speaking of needs, Hongjoong. Why’d you bring her in these parts? It’s not the calmest area in our town. Could get hurt.”

Hongjoong glances around, seeing obvious sketchy people walking around. Some spot him and turn in the opposite direction. “Need a favor. She needs some place to stay-”

“So you thought it would’ve been an excellent idea to waltz over here and give her to me. Have enough of those skum walking through my doors, don’t need more eyes to cover an innocent virgin.”

You scoff at him, and he looks at you sympathetically. “In their eyes, you are.”

“Please, having her at my home won’t be proper, you know how the townspeople talk. City slicker in my home will only lead to chit-chatting.”

Yeosang places his hat back on top of his head, thinking. “How long?”

“I can’t quite tell ya that. Don’t know when her memory is going to come waltzing back in and saying howdy. Give her a few weeks, give or take.”

Yeosang grumbles, but nods. “Favors gone now, sheriff,” his eyes move over to you. “Let’s get you set up in some proper cow-poke slacks. Wouldn’t mind seeing you in some fancy clothing, though,” His grin widens as he looks at you.

That was flirting. That was definitely flirting. Your face warms as he tips his hat to Hongjoong, gesturing for you to walk ahead. You turn back to Hongjoong, and he nods once, lifting his hat up slightly.

“I’ll be in contact with you, keep your ears clean and your eyes open. Those bandits could be anywhere, and Yeosang’s place is prime time for their kind. Won’t be surprised if they slip ‘round here, causing a ruckus.”

“Not in my place,” Yeosang grumbles.

“Thanks, Sheriff Hongjoong. For bringing me here, and trying to keep me safe.”

Hongjoong flushes, “Ah, no need to thank me, miss. It’s only my job, even if you’re a city slicker.” He teases. He gets back on Angel, whistling at you once before disappearing down the dirt path.

Yeosang clears his throat next to you. “I’ll show you to the back. Can't quite find your size, but pick off these racks here and sure enough find something."

Yeosang holds the door open for you, gesturing to the racks in front of you. "Don't quite trust you by the way, miss y/n. Popping up 'round here out of the blue and yip yapping about some amnesia. Jongho a doc, but he ain't the brightest tool in the shed."

He eyes you. “You don’t even talk like a city-slicker or country folk. Can’t quite pin you down yet. Just don’t bring no trouble ‘round here, and we’d be peachy. Got that?”

“I do,” You say, Yeosang completely reading you. He’s even analytical in the wild west, but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. You’re surprised Hongjoong or Jongho didn’t peep a word about your accent. Maybe they think you’re from some far off town, a place where no one speaks in their slang. “I won’t cause a ruckus, either. Thank you for your hospitality.” You try speaking like him, a grin on your face.

He only rolls his eyes in response. “Nice try. I’m leaving your key hanging on your door, just outside. Grab it whenever you’re ready and your room will be prepared. Some gal will be bringing you more clothing for your stay.”

He gives you a wave as you thank him, closing the door behind him. You stare at the racks in front of you, grabbing whatever looks close enough to your size to wear. You tuck your feet into the boots and stare at the hats. It tempts you, your mouth watering, thinking about living out your cowboy dreams. But you sigh, giving them one last, longing gaze before leaving.

You’re already an eyesore, everyone looking at you wherever you go. Wearing a hat would only cause more people to ask questions, many you can’t answer. Where did you come from? Why do you speak like that? Wait, you don’t know what “insert term” is? You shower everyday? Endless questions that’ll only leave you in a stuttering mess, palms sweaty. You should probably grab a dress and corset and shove yourself in one, but who do they think you are? Walking around uncomfortable from day to day?

You grab the key that’s hanging outside your door, walking slowly down the hallway. Thankfully your room isn’t too far. You insert the key and unlock it, glancing inside. How the lady or man came into your room quick enough and dropped off clothing is beyond you, but you thank them silently, sitting on the edge of the mattress. The room couldn’t be more than ten by ten, a small window with the thinnest panel you’ve ever seen. You run your fingers along the quilt, humming softly.

What do you do now?

You remember seeing a bar just off the hotel, and nod. Sure, this couldn’t be scary. Just a normal bar in the Wild West. Probably some gunfights and glasses thrown everywhere, but that’s normal enough, you suppose. Maybe you’ll come out with an honorary bloody nose. You walk out of your room, locking the door behind you.

You turn, bumping into a body just outside your door. The impact is rather hard, making you stumble on the rug that’s on the floor. Before you can fall back, a hand grabs you, holding you steady. Your eyes look up, ready to thank the mysterious stranger. Dark eyes stare down at you, thick brows just above them, His hair is long, brushing against the nape of his neck. You never thought during this time there were piercings, but you can see them tracing up his ear, small gold studs. He pulls you up, eyes never leaving yours. You can recognize that man from anywhere, his face so distinct.

“Are you alright, sweet pea?” Wooyoung asks, his deep voice resonating in the quiet hallway. You nod, as he lets you go. He wears black from head to toe, boots shining with a line of silver around the heels. His hat rests on a string, hanging on his neck. He tilts his head, wavy hairs falling to his forehead. “Don’t remember seeing a gal as beautiful as you ‘round.”

You don’t know how to respond, and you can tell by his face that he knows the effect he has on you. He chuckles slowly, ring covered fingers running through his hair. “Fine night, isn’t it? Too dangerous out there for a sweet pea like you to be alone. Where you going?”

You purse your lips. “It’s dangerous out there, like you said. I can’t tell strangers where I’m going.”

He laughs. “Ah, you’re a slick one. I like that.” His eyebrows flick up slightly.

Fuck. The charisma from this man is dripping from his every word, every flick of his eyes. But you keep yourself grounded enough to roll your eyes, giving him your back. You’re not here to flirt.

…

Well, you aren’t sure why you’re here.

“Never had a lady give me her backside,” Wooyoung walks next to you, arms resting on his back. “Haven’t told you my government yet, and you’re already running. Let me at least say a bit more before you make me into a bad egg. Didn’t see a ring, so assumed you were an Angelica.”

“Angelica?”

His eyebrows furrow for a moment. “Ah, must be small-town lingo. Not tied down, I presume. No lover.”

“Why does that even matter?” You know. You can feel the heavy flirting between his words, the smirk on his lips. And you’re tempted, but something is different about him. There’s an aura around Wooyoung, more than the flirting. Mysterious, intimidating. Something you can’t quite point out. You reach to open the door, but he opens it for you, gesturing for you to exit. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you. You make any cowboy balmy.”

He walks along with you to the bar, no longer trying to start a conversation with you. You embrace the silence, but his mere presence is intimidating in itself, his looming finger just behind you. As you make it to the outside of it, he opens the door for you once more, his smile hidden on his face.

“Came here to bend an elbow as well. A bit glad I didn’t go to the bed-house, found better sights here. See you ‘round, miss…” He waits for you to say your name, but you don’t give him the pleasure. “Hard to get, I see. Admire that.”

You walk in, him just slightly behind you. The bell rings, eyes of the patrons looking over to see who entered. Their loud talks slowly dissipate, an audible hush falling amongst the crowd. You notice that they’re looking behind you, so you step to the side, letting Wooyoung walk in front. He looks back at you, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Name’s Wooyoung. But you’d’ve learned soon enough,” he takes your hand, lightly pressing his lips against the back, intense gaze on yours as he flicks his eyes to your lips, letting go. He seems to ignore the stares as he walks to the corner of the bar, a familiar silhouette there as well. But you can only see their back from where you’re standing.

You walk to the bar, sitting on an empty stool. Some of the men next to you eye you but don’t utter a word, probably assuming that you’re with Wooyoung. You don’t mind it at all, trying to figure out how to get back to your time is what you’d rather do. Although, hanging out with them isn’t half bad.

“Joong’s gal?”

Your eyes look up into softer ones, his contagious smile and plush cheeks easily recognizable. He holds a glass in his hand, cleaning it slowly. He leans against the counter. “Could tell by your trousers. No lady ‘round here would dare.”

You snort. “And what does that mean? I’m not a lady?”

Yunho looks at you in shock, his lips in the shape of an o. “Absolutely positively not, sweetheart. You’re different, bettermost from the others, makes you more fascinating, you see. Make any get one hellofa brick in his hat. Makes you a target as well, but you’re safe enough.”

“How so?”

He grins. “You’re with me. Talk more after I get these men outta da way.” He tips his head, walking over and sliding people their beer.

The saloon is bigger than you expected, probably about fifty or so people hanging out and about. There’s few women around but Yunho’s right; all of them are dressed to impress, makeup perfect on their faces. You spot Wooyoung, and finally, get the chance to see who he’s with.

San slides laid back in his chair, legs manspread as his eyes lazily trail along the crowd. You can't move, knowing that if you even tried his eyes would immediately land on you. So you try your best to keep attention away from yourself, sitting on the edge of the barstool as Yunho makes a drink for you.

The hairs on the back of your neck raise, knowing the heavy gaze that now rests on you. You thank him for the drink, using it as an excuse to down it quickly, eyes flicking over to where San is. His gaze is focused on you, a sly smirk slowly forming on his lips. He drags his tongue along them, eyebrow raised slightly, as if he's challenging you.

"Involved with a fella like him?" Yunho interrupts, forcing your eyes away. "Could only lead to bad endings, sweetheart. Only keep you on your toes long enough to say hello. Throw you right into the dust."

"Do you know him?" You ask, and Yunho laughs.

"Know him? We part of the Leaders together." He watches as the shock slowly crosses your face, his smirk rising. "Too bad he don't like to share."

"Share what?"

Yunho only winks.

The Leaders. San, Wooyoung, and Yunho. All of them are part of the bandit group. You’re a bit shocked that Yunho is, why would he be a bartender? But now you’ve figured out why Wooyoung feels so off. He’s a criminal, his dark gaze filled with more than just lust. He’s seen things you can’t imagine, things you’d rather not think about. San probably has blood on his hands as well as Yunho, his eyes taking you in as you think deeply.

“Never thought I’d see the likes of you again, darling.” His voice is next to you now, one you’ve just heard earlier today. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. W was just chatting about you, telling me about this daisy damsel, a city-slicker. Got me curious, I reckon, but when I saw you eyeing me, dead giveaway.”

“Was it a coincidence,” you mumble, not daring to meet his gaze. He doesn’t smell like alcohol at all, not even slightly. You’re a bit surprised, but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t expect to see you again either.”

“Ah, it’s not a bad thing,” San nudges the man next to you. The man grunts, ready to start something. But once his eyes scan San, a frightened look crosses his eyes as he stumbles from his stool, moving far away from the two of you. Hongjoong talked about how notorious and dangerous they are, but it didn’t sink until you entered the bar. They’ve made a name for themselves here, and not in a good way.

He rests on the stool, half sitting. “Never told me why you were in the calaboose. Don’t really look like the doozies that creep in there. Much calmer, strange.” He sees the look on your face, and chuckles. “In a positive way, darling.”

His eyes grace over your figure, a teasing glint in his eyes. He slowly brings the glass to his lips, eyes unblinking as he watches you through the blurry glass. His lips wrap around the lining of the glass cup, before placing it down to the counter. "You’re quite a mysterious one, miss y/n."

Your blood runs cold. You haven't uttered your name around him, or Wooyoung. How did he even know it? He sees the puzzlement in your eyes, gaze moving away from you to Yunho, a few feet away serving someone else.

"Town's small and townspeople chat. Hard not to figure out who you were. Cant get the details on your background, no matter how much pig digging. Not even your sheriff knows, and seems like you don't know either. Don't believe that in the slightest." He waves over another bartender, their quick pouring of the drink showing you in the simplest ways San's power in this town.

The shaking hands of the man as he pours, the laser sharp gaze of San as he watches, as if he'll jump over the counter if the man makes the slightest mistake. Wooyoung and he command attention and obedience with their presence. Completely different from the soft energy around Yunho, flirting smiles as he continues to intoxicate the saloon customers.

"We own this here saloon, love. The Leaders. Imagine my shock in seeing you stumble through those doors, W just behind ya. I saw the looks he was givin' you, that poor bastard..."

"Ah, talking about me while I'm not here to defend, sir? No wonder my ear was itching."

You're so absorbed in San's every word, ignoring the slow walk of Wooyoung behind you. He doesn't even bother asking the man in the opposite seat to move, the person leaving on their own accord. Unlike San, he molds his body into the stool, letting out a soft sigh before moving his eyes to you. A small grin teases on his lips, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Care to share?"

"Not interested. In either of you." You clench your ice tea, alcohol free. You don't see the looks they exchange over your head, wordless communication.

"Heard you talking to the sheriff," Wooyoung says.

"Wondering if you told any tidbits about our encounter. Isn't wise if you did," San adds. "Could be life risking, if you ask me."

You can feel the intense stares they give you without even glancing their way. Your eyes move to Yunho, who watches you from the other side of the bar. It's too loud for him to hear what you're saying to them, but you can tell that he knows. The blank expression he gives you is enough to know. Are they going to kill you? There isn't even any information to give Hongjoong, even if you wanted to.

"What could I say to him? He knows who you are, what you look like. And you barely exchanged three sentences with me before riding off into the sunset," you sip slowly on your drink. "Is that why you came over here? To bother me?"

San chuckles dryly. "You’re a smart one, hm? Think we can put you in your place?" He moves closer to your ear, a breath away from his lips touching your skin. "Can tell you’re flustered, your fingers are all shaky. Scared?"

Wooyoung leans on the counter, head resting on his hand. You notice his arm covered with tattoos and bracelets. His gaze is heavy, eyelids hushed as he licks his lips, flicking between yours and your eyes. "Pretty gal like you may be thinking 'bout something different though. Could tell right when we met, the look in those beautiful eyes of yours. Full a' wonder, and... ah." He reaches out, inches away from your hand, before pulling back.

"The things I want to do."

From the thumping in your ears to the breath of San tickling them, to the seductive look Wooyoung is giving you, it's overwhelming. You leap from your stool, ignoring the chuckles falling from their lips.

"Leaving so soon? Haven't even heard our proposal to you," San pouts. "It's worth a wild."

You hesitate in your steps, glancing back at the two of them. "And what is the proposition?"

Wooyoung leans back on the counter, legs outstretched in front of him. "Distract that sheriff. Tell him falsehoods, get his nose away from us. In exchange..." His heavy gaze moves up your body, before flicking to your eyes. "Join us."

.

..

...

....

"...join you? Why in the living hell would I ever join you?"

A dark look passes through both of them. San jaw clenches, fingers straining against the glass in his hands before he takes a breath, closing his eyes and opening again. He looks at you calmly once more.

"We need a lady in our ranks. Some things a man just can't do. You’re already a criminal, can't judge us."

You blink rapidly. "How am I...?"

Your mind trails off to your first meeting with him, in prison. He's assuming that you're as bad as them, that you'd break the law. But the worst thing you've ever done is kick a ball into someone's face, and you cried after doing that. Breaking the law? You could barely break a pencil, let alone the law.

"No." You say briskly. "I've changed, I think. Started anew. My past is behind me."

Wooyoung snorts at that. "Oh, is it now? Every soul in here sees you talking to us. Probably got to the sheriff already. He must be suspecting by now that you’re in cahoots with the Leaders."

They're trying to bait you. You've watched enough movies to know the moves. The evil glint behind the friendliness. The way Wooyoung's fingers rest on his hip, inches away from his pistol. It's subtle, but you know if you deny, they'd probably retaliate somehow. But Hell, you’ve dealt with men like this before.

"You're underestimating him. See y'all around." You tip your invisible hat, earning a chuckle from Yunho who watches. You turn your back to them, push the double doors open and leave.

Wooyoung goes to stand, but San grabs his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. He looks at him in confusion. "We won't stop her?"

"No. Sooner or later, she'll come crawling to us."

"Not too sure 'bout that," Yunho says, walking to them. "Gal seems independent. Can't see her listenin to you."

San quirks his brow. "She'll learn who I am soon 'nough."

-

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths just outside the bar. Your eyes flick to the sound of heavy panting, seeing a black stallion in the darkness. Its eyes glow faintly, focusing on you for a moment before huffing again. You try to calm your heart rate as you take in its calming presence, a soft neigh echoing in the night.

Your head is filled with several emotions; fear, confusion, lust. You can barely keep up with the heavy waves. The beating slowly drops into a more steady thumping, your eyes flutter as you take another breath, walking through the grass to meet it. It stomps its feet, warning you with gestures. You hold your hands up in surrender, showing it that it shouldn’t be afraid. It slowly stops moving, letting you stand next to it silently.

You don’t dare run your fingers on its coat, too afraid that it startles easily. You stare off into the night, eyes on the sky. The stars are the brightest you’ve ever seen; they glow their own lights in the small town. You glance around, seeing the flickers of torches and stakes, loud voices of people entertaining themselves. The horse neighs softly as you pout, running your fingers through your hair.

“I don’t belong here,” You say softly, glancing at the horse. “I have no idea what to do, how to get back to my home. But I have to admit, it’s nice being around here. The fresh air is completely different. Feels more natural out here.” You hear a crash behind you, but don’t even give the sound the light of day, continuing to hum softly.

“It’s a bit chilly out here too, and all I have is this shirt,” You pull at the material, frowning. “It’s barely thick enough to cover my boobs from showing through.”

“Boobs?”

You jump at the sound, turning to see a man, hair wild as the wind blows through it. He wears a dark blue outfit, cowboy boots shining in the darkness, probably from the flickering of the candle in his hand. He cocks his head, eyes watching you curiously.

“Is that the fancy way of saying bosoms?” You can hear the innocence in his voice, although the scars across his face tell a different story. “Strange city slickers.” He grins, walking to you. You’re not sure how he is compared to the rest of the bandits you’ve encountered, but you don’t take any chances.

“What do you want?”

Confusion is drawn in his expression, before he mumbles something to himself softly. “Ah… you’re with my horse. Seems a bit suspicious, don’t you think?” He points to the horse next to you, patting it softly. “Surprised he didn’t try to kick you. A feisty one, he is. Probably thinking about doing something to you.” He grins again, winking at you.

You move away from the horse and Seonghwa takes a step to it, pressing his lips against it. It nudges against him softly, and he giggles. You blink rapidly. Him. He is in a bandit group, an infamous group. You don’t even feel the dangerous aura around him, not like the other three. He’s much softer, calmer. He looks at you, still petting his horse lightly.

“Heard ‘bout you from the others. Potentially joining’ our ranks,” he looks you up and down in thought. “Don’t know why they’v’d even consider, don’t look impressive to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, pardon my behavior. It's true, though. You’re light on the eyes, but that’s all I see. Don’t look like you’ve even held a pistol, and from the looks of it, probably run your bazoo and snitch,” he wrinkles his nose. “I ain’t as trusting as the others. For good reason, too.”

He lets go of the stallion, leaning next to him as he watches you. “San trusts you, though. We aren’t what you think, what the chit chatting be saying about us. Hiding among the willows, filled with bug juice. It’s nothing of the sort.”

“Then why don’t you defend yourselves? Everyone is convinced you’re the worst criminals there are, that you’d shoot before anything else.”

There, you see it. The flicker of fury in his irises, the locking of his jaw, the dark glow to his eyes. But as quick as you see it, it fades away. He smiles again, and this time it doesn’t seem as genuine.

“Some of those rumors are true. Don’t be so beef-headed, miss y/n,” he tilts his head as he watches you. “Standing in front of this bucket of blood. Right where you stand, Yunho murdered a man.” Seonghwa flicks his gaze to the grass, pursing his lips. “Speaking of that, being alone is risky. This town ain’t as safe as the sheriff makes you think. Better to get to your home, something’s going down in a few clicks or so.”

Another shout comes from the bar, and Seonghwa sighs. “Go ta Yeosang’s place. Lock your doors, and don’t go by those windows.”

He kisses his horse’s face once more before walking around you, his arm brushing lightly against yours. He glances at the spot, eyes focused on yours. His expression is unreadable, and he nods once before, pulling his gun from the holster, kicking open the bar doors. You take that as your cue, half running, half jogging to the hotel. You ignore the whistles and shouts from the people standing not too far away from the front, running to your door and shutting it behind you.

The gun shots ring around you as you cover your ears, shaking as each one shoots through the air. A deadly reminder that you don’t belong here, that you should be home in modern society. That no matter how cool it is to be in the wild west, it isn’t cool to think about one of those gunshots ending up inside of you.

You need to get home.

-

“Won’t be that bad of an idea,” he says, brushing off her coat slowly. You lean against the tall pole next to his stall. He eyes you for a moment, scanning your skeptical expression before sighing. “We need to arrest them, y/n. Take them in for their crimes.”

“And why do you need me? I was in that jail for a reason, one that I don’t know. You’re being so harsh on them, and easy on me.” You flick off a leaf that falls, waiting for his response. You might be digging yourself into a hole, but it’s the only thing that you could think would stop him from this crazy idea of his. There’s no way you’d try to infiltrate their ranks, the risk is too high. These men aren’t like the ones back home.

“You’re not a threat. Don’t sense the bad mojo on you, can tell by looking into your eyes. You'll be safe; no harm will come to you. Bet a cat’s foot on it.” He snaps his fingers, winking at you.

You narrow your eyes. “Bet your life.”

Hongjoong widens his eyes as he looks at you. “I… no, miss y/n, that’s-”

“Yea yea, superstition and all.”

“You don’t believe in that?” He asks, watching as you shake your head. “Gotta be careful, miss. You’re a good one, that I know.

“Do you?”

“Mama ain’t raise no fool,” He says simply, patting Angel. “Be careful, you hear? Those men aren’t as kind as they may show you. Killed too many to consider them friendlies. Those men ain’t nothing but trouble. Don’t want to see you hurt. But if you don’t accept their invitation under the eyes of me, they might insist in ways I cannot help you with.”

You purse your lips. They’re walking freely through the town, through the darker sides that you don’t see right here. It’s a bit strange; shouldn’t they be put in jail? You’re sure that Hongjoong knows that’s their bar, and yet he hasn’t stormed it and arrested them. Angels neighs softly, stomping her feet. Hongjoong mumbles something against her fur, brushing hairs away from her eyes.

“Why don’t you just arrest them? You know where they’re at, right? Or is there some law that doesn’t allow you to?”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nods slowly. “Forgot about that place. Can’t arrest them if that town doesn’t want me to. You see, they’re infamous bandits in Mist, but not there. I dropped you off just outside of Mist, a smaller town called Halazi. Because the laws are different there, those slickers didn’t cause any ruckus there, so they ain’t going to be arrested. Deputy doesn’t allow me to’ even arrest any bodies there, especially those men. Brings in money to their town. Ain’t going to give that up anytime soon.” Hongjoong’s eyes flick to you.

“Assume you've seen them? Have they spotted ya?” You don’t respond, and he sighs. “Ah, you have then. Just… don’t get too close then. Please. And if you do, at least let me know before something happens. So I can keep an eye on you.”

You nod. “Of course, I won’t.”

-

“Joong’s paranoid. You’ll be fine. These boys don’t mess with no innocents, only the likes of them,” Jongho says, cleaning off a tray with mysterious blood on it. “Can’t believe he didn’t chain you to a fence, in all honesty. That Sheriff is a good one, but scared of a fly.” He clicks his tongue, washing his hands before looking at your wound again. “Ah, it’s healing well, ain’t it? Your skin is going to be pretty again, miss y/n, don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” You say, smiling. “But I think he has reasons to worry. I didn’t exactly tell him the complete truth.”

Jongho raises his eyebrows. “Hm?”

You rub your arm, looking at the healing cut as you speak. “I met the guys. All of them; San, Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa. They wanted me to join their ranks, something about me being alluring. I refused, but then they responded that I won’t be refusing for much longer? I have no idea what that means, but in my honest opinion-”

“Sounds like a threat,” Jongho whispers slowly, and you nod. “Joong ain’t tell you ‘bout their crimes, did he? Nothing except the little flyers he has hanging round town?” You shake your head.

“San can tell his own story; it’s a big one, one that’ll take too long,” he grins. “The others joined after he decided to leave. Joong and them, friends for a long time. Since they were little ones, until he left. Yunho used to be my assistant, until he went away. Wooyoung is a mystery; lived here his whole life but decided to leave when Yunho did. Seonghwa was Joong’s partner, unofficially. Glued to his side like a worm in the gravel on a hot day. When they had a falling out, he was distraught, choosing between his two friends. Joong ain’t never going to forget when Seonghwa left him.”

“Their crimes are not as serious as it seems. Yes, they burglarized and murdered, but thestories behind each of them are cause for protest. They ain’t ever raised their pistols to an innocent, that’s why Joong ain’t that worried about you in that regard. Only murderers and people who gone against them but for good reasons, in my humble opinion,” Jongho begins cleaning off your cut.

“Then why does Hongjoong want them arrested? If they didn’t actually do anything horrible?”

Jongho thinks for a moment. “In a way, it’s ‘cause he’s heartbroken. But also, just because a person is bad don’t mean you go ‘round killing. There’s due process; jail, and from there punishment.”

He grins as he looks at you. “Like Wooyoung, for a teeny example. He killed many, but all of their crimes were dark, too explicit to even tell ya. Seonghwa hasn’t killed, that I know of but most of the others have. Yunho usually sits in the bars at night, though. More of an informant if anything.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t tell Hongjoong then,” you mumble to yourself, Jongho listening along. “He has a grudge and rightfully so, but some things should just be kept to myself. I think he’d take me out of Yeosang’s hotel immediately if he found out,” You tease, causing Jongho to chuckle.

“He would've, My lips are sealed, swallowing the key. But I’m still keeping an eye on you, don’t you forget that. Keep your ears cleared and your eyes open, miss y/n. Them guys ain’t that bad, but there’s trouble always surrounding them. Don’t join them, not even under fallacies. Those boys can sniff a rat amongst the willows.”

He taps your arm as he finishes. “Come back again, no one ever comes to see little ‘ol me.” He leans against the counter, looking at you. It looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t do anything but give you that signature grin. “Tell them, especially Yunho, I said howdy if you ever come ‘cross again. Big part of me thinks you will.”

He winks.

-

You’re not sure how you ended up here. In the middle of a field, flowers and other plants are seen for miles. Taking a small hike, you only expected more dirt and pesky bugs. You’re not sure if any diseases from the mosquitoes are actually cured by now, but it frightens you whenever one of them lands on you. You hum to yourself softly, letting the soft breeze swirl around you. It’s been a few weeks in between Mist and Halazi. You’ve seen San, Wooyoung, and the others more often than you’d like, their words enticing you more and more. But you’ve resisted for the most part, avoiding them whenever you turn the corner.

San and Wooyoung have been particularly insistent. You already moved out of Yeosang’s hotel, and into a room and board, farther away from the bar. But it seems like every time you step out of the doors, those two aren’t as far away.

Despite your very thinning resistance, you’ve ignored their requests for the most part. Even though Jongho told you that their crimes aren’t as bad as you may think, you don’t want to involve yourself with them. Hongjoong is happy as well, hearing from you that you didn’t dare join them. In a weird sort of way, it feels like a mouse and cat game, the duo dropping their cheese in front of your nose, and you running away from it.

“Didn’t expect to see you out here,” A voice behind you hums lightly. You yelp, turning to the voice. Wooyoung stands there, hands tucked into his slacks as he looks at the peonies around you. He tilts his head, eyes flicking to yours. “Thought you left, S was a bit ruffled.” He hums softly, leaning against a rock.

“Did you follow me out here?” You ask sternly. “I told you two I’m not joining your little crew of bandits-”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Ah, watch your words, miss. Just ‘cause we been nice, don’t mean we can’t stop.” He motions his hands in a scissor motion, winking at you. “And I ain’t follow you. Here’s my resting place, ways away from commotion of Halazi. And it’s my mama’s land, so you’re intruding, not I.” He grins at you. “Could get yourself shot, miss y/n.”

Your heart drops to your stomach as you scramble to your feet, panic in your eyes. “Shit- I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

Wooyoung wiggles his fingers, shaking his head. He reaches back, putting the hat on his head as he watches you. “Mama ain’t so easy to forgive, lucky she ain’t see you out here. But, since I did catch you,” He taps his finger against his pouty lips, pretending to think deeply. “You owe me now, don’t you?”

His eyebrows raise as his lips slowly curl into an evil grin. You mentally slap yourself. What were you thinking? All land must have been owned around here, it is a small town after all. And look at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Wooyoung watches as you go through the hoops in your mind, your nose scrunched up as your eyes flick back and forth. He rests on the rock easily, humming again.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Can’t think of any at this very moment. Get back to you?” He says, “But we gotta shake on it. Can’t be having some white lies told, you know?” He holds out his hand. If you looked closely enough you could have seen the slightly wicked look in his eyes, the pure lust as your fingers curled around his for a shake. He lifts up your entwined hands, pressing his lips against it lightly.

“Best get a move on, Mama be home soon enough. Can’t be having any daisies ‘round, she carries the big guns.” Wooyoung flicks his head, “Unless you’d like to stay. I have enough room for a visitor.”

You’re at least fifty percent sure he’s asking for you to twist the sheets with him, as they say. Or in your language, fuck. Your face warms furiously as you pull your hand out of his, shaking your head.

“As you said, I need to get moving.”

He watches as you walk past him, eyes struggling to keep them on only your head, nothing lower. It’s not common to see a lady dressed in tight-fitting clothing, and little did you know, they were luring away the men who dared to creep on you. Stares are fine, but the words that Yunho heard in the bars... Speaking of that, his eyes move to look in the distance, at the cowboy that’s been watching you as of late. Wooyoung moves away from his rock, fingers lingering to his holster as he begins his approach.

-

“They’ve killed again,” A voice says softly between the crowd. You don’t pay any mind, knowing who they’re talking about. You can’t quite keep up with the drama that happens with the Leaders, their names constantly at the edge of people’s tongues. Instead, you push your way through and stay in the library, also owned by Yeosang.

He sits in the corner as you read through books, trying desperately to find a way back to your time. You think you’ve had enough of the sand in places you’d rather not mention, and the lack of water to take showers in. You’re sure someone saw you trying to clean yourself in a pond. Oddly, though, the guys didn’t smell bad. But you’d rather not dwell on that thought.

“You've been here for three days, miss,” Yeosang says, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. “Can just ask what you're looking for, youknow.”

You shake your head. “What if I told you I’m trying to figure out a way to go to the future, where you’re part of a boyband?”

Yeosang stays quiet for a moment, before he chortles to himself, shaking his head. “Spent too long with Jongho, sounding just like him. Boy band? Is that some sort of Sheriff department?”

You hold back your laughter, “Maybe I have been around Jongho too long.” These books in front of you could barely help you, most just telling you about folk tales, things you don’t need to know about right now. You put the books back on the shelves, thanking Yeosang before walking out. You hear a loud crowd in the distance, and squint, seeing men wearing black, surrounding someone on the ground. Your stomach drops once you recognize the figures from this distance.

Stay away, you say to yourself, keep under the radar. They already want you a part of them, and involving yourself in things like this would only entice them more. Make you tied up in drama you have no business being in. You look away, despite the growing yelling. This isn’t Hongjoong’s town; he’d never show up. But some part of you tells you to look, and you see someone running up to them. A shotgun is in their fingers, the Leaders’ backs to him.

Your eyes widen. He’s going to shoot them. He’s going to kill them with their backs to him. Your body immediately starts running, barely keeping yourself on your two feet as you breathe through your nose, pushing through randoms walking around. The man is so close, so very close. You might be too late, you might see one of them being killed -

San stands just over the man on the ground, an angry sneer on his lips as he aims his gun at him. Wooyoung stands next to him, Seonghwa on the opposite side with Yunho staring down at him. They don’t see the man aiming his gun, eyes narrowed as he adjusts his shot.

“San, move!” You scream, feet away. The shotgun man turns around as you yell, but turns back, finger slowly pressing on the trigger. You leap, shoving your body against San as the shot rings through the air. You’re not too sure where the others are, too focused on getting him out of danger.

You both fall to the ground in a loud thump, his body somehow rolling on top of yours. You hear commotion behind the two of you as you take heavy breaths, eyes on one another. He looks between yours, flicking around your face. A hand reaches out, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“Shit, you got a cut. What the fuck were you thinking, funning in front of a shot like that?” He curses, anger in his voice. But you can only see the worry reflected in his eyes as he looks over you. “Don’t be stupid,” he hisses.

“If you paid more attention to who’s around you maybe I wouldn’t have to be stupid, stupid.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Stubborn gal.”

“Quit kissing faces and get up,” You hear a voice above the both of you, anger dripping from his words. You look back, seeing Wooyoung staring down at the both of you. “No time for flirting. Gotta show them no mercy.”

San looks down at you, a silly grin on his lips. “W sounds a bit cheeky, don’t he?” He lifts himself away from your body, holding out his hand to help you up. Reminds you of the first time you’ve met him, saved from the prison. But this time, Wooyoung helps you up from behind, San slowly dropping his arm.

Wooyoung glares at the blood dripping from your forehead, ignoring the scowls his partner gives him. “S is right, you know. Keep yourself outta trouble, you here? Ain’t want you to join us this way.” He grabs something from his back pocket. It’s a roll of cloth, he wraps it around the small wound, whistling.

He secures it with a metal clip, smiling lightly at his handy work before straightening his back, looking at the others. Yunho and Seonghwa stay silent, exchanging looks, while San’s fuming, his glare having the potential to melt any man who receives it. You can tell that Wooyoung knows he’s furious but chooses to ignore it, eyes moving to the man on the ground that attempted to kill them.

Some people that you don’t recognize hold him down. San crouches over, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Lucky this darling here is watching,” San stands. “Hwa. Take care of him, have other matters to tend to.” His eyes look at you. “Follow me.”

-

San paces around the room, Wooyoung sitting in the furthest corner. He watches you silently, darker eyes blinking rarely. His trenchcoat that drapes to the floor is oddly terrifying, making your eyes look over to him every so often. A part of you itches to speak up and ask exactly why he isn't blinking, but now seems like the wrong time. Yunho and Seonghwa are dealing with the man who tried to assassinate San, somewhere in the Halazi station. You bite your lip nervously, wondering why they insisted on you coming with them. They gave you room to refuse, of course, their gentlemanly cowboy ways superseding their need to speak with you.

San finally stops pacing, stopping a few feet away from you. "You’re strange." He says softly, eyes looking through his hair. "Can't seem to' wrap my noggin 'round you. Cold Cool as a winter's morn' but warm as Mama's sweet apple pie."

...

"Um—"

"You tell us to stay away, and we do for most parts." San nods at that. "Keep them sleazy men away from you since you insist on wearing revealing wear." He eyes your pants, before looking away. If you squint, you can see a slight color change to his cheeks.

If they call your pants and very thick shirt revealing, you could only imagine them in your time. Seeing short sleeve shirts and ankles. They'd go mad.

"But you saved me," he mumbles softly, rubbing his bottom lip. "Woo," his eyes flick to his partner. "Don't you think it's awfully strange of miss y/n to help us? Aught to make one wonder.“ He strokes his chin, humming to himself.

Wooyoung’s brows raised slowly, clicking his tongue. “You’re right. Why she helping us? Could’ve just left us for dead. Let the vultures pick off the bones. Seems like this lady cares ‘bout us.”

You can’t help but scoff at them, eyes-rolling. You don’t catch the clenching of Wooyoung’s jaw, San’s eyes narrowing at your action. “Talk about being full of yourselves. If you were anyone else I’d still do the same thing. Don’t try to stroke your ego.”

Wooyoung’s rings glisten as he moves away from the wall, taking slow steps closer to you. “Can’t help but talk like that, hm? It’s been a few now, you should’ve learned.”

“Learned what?” You say, keeping your voice steady. You hear a slight crack in your tone, hoping that they don’t notice. But from the slow curving of their lips, they know.

“Learned that the Leaders are called that for a reason, sweet pea. Learned that we only tolerate so little, and you crossed the line more than once,” he raises his fingers, flicking each one up as he counts. “Too many to even add up, you see.” He slowly tucks his hands in his pocket, chain glistening against his neckline.

San nods along. “That pretty face a’ yours only seems to get you in trouble. You know how many men we’ve fought off? Your feet are golden, darling. And you still walk around here like you own the town. Makes us look weak, and we can’t have that, hm?” He tilts his head, earring brushing against his skin as he eyes you. “Heard you owe Woo a favor.”

You don’t know whether to be frightened, scared, or a third thing. You watch as Wooyoung places his hat to the side, loosening his jacket. Your eyes glue to his exposed skin like you’re a deprived man from the 1700s seeing ankles for the first time. He reaches for his rings, but stops himself, smirking.

“You like the rings on me, don’t you?”

You swallow slowly, and San raises his eyebrows at you. “Answer the question, darling.”

“I do.” You say, seeing Wooyoung glance back at you. He slowly takes off his vest, leaving the loose-fitting shirt the only thing covering his chest from the both of you. San’s eyes drift over Wooyoung’s figure, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. But you can see the piercing gaze that Wooyoung gives him, the need dripping from his pupils as he looks back. Your heart pumps in your chest, quickly realizing what’s happening.

“I have the favor ready,” Wooyoung says softly, loosening the first few buttons. You see the golden shine of his chest as he moves closer, now inches away. “Ready to hear?” His voice rumbles in his chest, surly. His eyes lazily slide to your lips, before moving back to your eyes. San slowly approaches, taking off layers of his skin as Woo stares you down.

“Yes.”

He sneers, finger slowly trailing over the curve of your chin, stopping at the corner of your lips. He presses lightly on the skin, “Here’s my favor. Try not to scream, sweet pea.”

“Doubt that, don’t you think? Lady looks like a faucet,” San’s tongue trails over his lips as he watches Wooyoung’s fingers slowly go down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes flutter through trembling breaths as the rough pads of his thumbs dig lightly into your hips, slowly sliding you closer to him.

“There’s always room to say no, sweet pea,” Wooyoung says, barely above a whisper. “We love our ladies rough, but we always respect them. Like true gentlemen,” he snickers lightly. “Well, the gentle part isn’t as true.”

“Remember seeing you for the first time in the calaboose,” San says, watching as Wooyoung’s hands slowly slide underneath your shirt, rubbing lightly against your skin. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, biting his lip each time you twitch under his hold. “Thought you were an owl hoot, there to serve your time, but I suppose not?” He throws his hat to the side, fingers gracing over his pistol, before he lays it on the counter of the saloon.

Wooyoung distracts you, pressing his hips into yours. He slowly brings your body forward, light moans each time you rub against his hard bulge. You try to concentrate on San’s words, but Woo is taking up most of your attention, head leaning down and peppering kisses against your skin.

“Too pretty to be in that place, covered in dirt. Didn’t think I’d see you again, but look at what we've been through! Pistol whips, visits, bumping into one another. Don’t believe in soul’s meeting, but,” San walks to the door of the bar, locking it behind him, putting the closed sign on the outside.

It was open this whole time? Anyone could have walked in, seeing Wooyoung pressing himself against you as San watched. You tremble at the thought, Wooyoung biting your skin lightly.

“You smell too good, sweet pea,” he whispers against your skin. “Wonder if you smell good in other places.”

“Ah, you're spoiling her, don’t you think?” San nudges Woo’s arm. He presses one light peck to your neck before moving back. San stares at you, tilting his head in thought. “Wanted to see you like this for a while now. Didn’t expect to have ‘nother in the room, but that only makes things interesting.”

“Take our time?” Wooyoung asks, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Bar opens in less than a nick’s time. Can’t have any ol’ seeing her like this.”

San sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Choices?”

Wooyoung rubs his chin, glancing at you. “Wait ‘til tonight, might be-a few hours, passed drunk fighting. Or, have sweet pea here and now, tonight can be round two.”

San nods slowly, eyes moving to you. “Your choice, darling.”

“Now.” You say simply.

San’s lip twitches in the corner. “Now? Can’t wait for us, can you?”

Wooyoung snickers, “Look at our sweet pea. She’s trembling just thinking ‘bout what we’d do to her.”

“Or that you’re taking too long to even start,” You say softly, eyebrow flicking in challenge. “Two boys in front of me but neither are even trying.”

You hear a low rumble from Wooyoung’s chest, taking a step forward. San stops him, quirking his brows. “Can’t stop that mouth of yours, hm? Still haven’t learned.”

You reach for your vest, slowly unbuttoning each one. Their eyes trail to your fingers, watching each one come loose. Once you reach the bottom, you toss it to the side, your smirk mirroring there’s from earlier. San moves first, pressing his lips against yours. It’s in no way gentle, feverish as you let him pull off your shirt. Your teeth clash against one another as he loosens his belt, throwing it to the side. You hear a crash, your head slightly turning to the sound. But San’s wandering hands feel your breasts, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“You’re a pretty thang, aren’t ya?” He whispers. You’ve forgotten about the other for a moment, at least until you feel his ring covered hands slowly moving underneath your trousers, tugging them down. San leans back slightly away from you, lifting you up against the counter as Wooyoung takes them completely off, leaving your bottom bare against the counter.

You shiver at the cold of the counters. San slowly spreads your thighs, flicking below. “Ah, you’re soaked, darlin’. Gonna make my bar all dirty.”

You feel the metal of Woo’s fingers press against your core, a low growl falling from his lips as San flicks your nipple, squeezing your breasts. He slowly presses kisses into your skin, covering your nipple with his lips, lightly sucking. You wrap your fingers in his locks as Wooyoung slowly inserts two fingers into you.

“Sucking me right in,” He mumbles, a featherlike kiss pressed just above your clit. You moan as he chuckles, tongue slowly trailing over the nub. Your hips lift forward at the touch, his fingers moving in and out of you quickly. “Feel you squeezing around me, sweet pea. How can I even fit if you’re already this tight?”

He sucks on your slit, enjoying you trembling at his ministrations. San takes your other breast in his mouth as Wooyoung increases the pace, another finger added. You feel him pressing his thumb into the other hole, slightly spreading your ass. You widen your eyes as he uses your slick to press two fingers into it.

“Shit,” You gasp. The buildup to your high is quick, Wooyoung’s eager growls into your cunt, skilled fingers sucking him in with little resistance; San’s soft lips, teeth biting lightly. Plump lips wrap around your slick as your cunt sucks in his fingers with little resistance.‌ Your eyes roll back as you spasm against his fingers. You push him away as you slowly reach the point of overstimulation, his head moving away. You can see your slick covering his cheeks, fingers covered in you.

“As sweet as a pumpkin pie, sweet pea,” he says softly. “Would give Mama a run for her money.”

San rolls his eyes, “Talking bout ya momma right now?” He strips off his pants, your eyes immediately flicking between his thighs. His cock springs out onto his belly, dripping with precum. You groan at the size, until you hear the ruffling of another pair of pants. Their eyes scan your body, too clouded with lust to think of anything else. San’s eyes scan yours, waiting for your consent.

“Both of us, at the same time. Think you can handle that?” He rubs his length slowly, enticing you.

“Think you can handle me?” You say, smiling up at him.

His eyes go dark, your face reflects his eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours. “Lift up for me, darling. W is gon’ take your behind, I’ll take you right here…” he cups your cunt.

You get off of the counter when he lets go, Wooyoung replacing you. He looks at the clock, worry in his eyes. “Less than cooking time now.” He looks at you. “Your words say a lot, let's see if we can prove it true.”

You slowly move forward, San slapping your ass as you press your lips against Wooyoung’s. His fingers curl in your hair, kiss much more gently than San’s. His tongue plays with yours slowly, before he pulls back. Through the lust, you can see the tender look he gives you. Something you haven’t seen from him.

“You’re doing so well. Can’t wait to see you sitting on me.”

You roll your eyes, turning around as he laughs. He helps you sit on his lap backward, his cock twitching against your ass as he groans, licking the curve of your neck. “Ready for me, sweet pea?”

“Yes.”

You slowly sink on his cock, fingers digging into his thighs at the stretch. His descent into you is slow, his lips pressing against your neck as you groan, trying his best to distract you from the burning feeling. You sit there for a moment, the overwhelming feeling of your ass being filled distracting you from San for a moment. Wooyoung continues to press kisses into your skin, until San clicks his tongue.

His cock looks as if it's almost vibrating, waiting. “Ready for me, darling?”

San watches as you nod for him, moving towards you. He wastes no time; rocking his cock a couple of times before sinking into your cunt with vigor. You didn’t realize how long he is; the head of his cock nudging at your cervix. You moan, his balls resting at the entrance. You feel more full than you’ve ever did before, your mind consumed with only them.

Wooyoung moves tentatively, fingers digging into your hips as he moves.

“Relax up, y/n,” San mumbles, rubbing your arm softly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forehead pressing against one another. “Can feel you movin’, W.”

“Move, fuck… move, or else I’ll cum right into her,” Wooyoung says through clenched teeth, moaning every time he feels your rim squeeze against his cock. San lets out a breath as he slowly drags his cock out of you. His gaze moves between your legs, watching as Wooyoung’s cock moves, his disappear in and out of you.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” he mumbles.

You open your mouth to reply, but he takes that chance to sink into you quickly, pressing lips against yours. Your combined moans echo in the room as they move in sink; San in, Wooyoung out. Wooyoung pushing in, San moving away. The rolling of San’s hips hitting yours with ease, skin pressing against your clit each time he pushes in. Wooyoung’s hips move with the force of San; not stuttering once.

“Faster,” You encourage, causing Wooyoung to laugh behind you.

“You’re real different, y/n,” he says, but his body agrees with your request, picking up the pace. The feeling of being moved between both of their bodies, Wooyoung’s shirt covered chest pressing into your back, San’s sweat dripping onto you makes you weak, your breaths stuttering.

You hear a knock on the door. San’s pace quickens, hips becoming bolder as he collides with you, the squelching sounds echoing in the small bar. Wooyoung’s grip is so tight, you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. They don’t seem to care about how loud their being, the knocks disappearing quickly.

San groans as he slowly reaches his high. “Gon’ empty in you, y/n. Tell me no, if you don’t want it.”

“San,” You struggle through your gasps, and he grins at you, your eyes moist and head thrown back. “Please.”

“You’re doing so well for me, y/n. Look so pretty underneath me. But I n-need to know-”

“Cum in me,” You say through gasps. “Both of you.”

His groan makes your body tremble. Your fingers are probably putting cuts into Wooyoung’s thighs as you scream, cunt squeezing against their cocks as you finally cum.

Wooyoung’s muscles strain as he holds you up, veins popping out on his arm as he revels in the feeling of your cunt around him. His hips seem to only go faster and faster, trying to hit his high. But once the squeeze of your rim tightens against his cock, he groans, pressing in once more. His hips sputtering as his cock-squeezing out his cum.

San isn’t too far away, desperate gasps as he slams his balls against your cunt. He pushes in once, twice, before his hips sputter, his balls slapping against you. You feel the hot of his cum hit your walls, his warm body pulling you into his chest, pressing kisses into your forehead. Wooyoung wraps his arm around you from behind, your pants echoing around the room.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. We got five,” San mumbles, his cock popping out of you. The smell of sex surrounds you all as he quickly grabs a piece of cloth from the side, slowly cleaning you off. He grins at the mess they made between your legs, Wooyoung taking his cock out. San presses the fabric into your holes as you whine, pushing him away.

“Wait.”

“Can’t have the children on the floor, darling,” San winks. “W, bring her to the back. Can’t have her ‘round when the doors open.”

Wooyoung wastes no time in picking you up with a yelp, holding you gently as he carries you to the doors behind the bar. He looks at you, pushing your hair away from your face.

“Haven’t seen you more beautiful than now, sweet pea.”

He lightly places you on the bed, looking around for a water bucket. Once he finds it, he slowly cleans you up, humming softly. You don’t know what to say. What’s your relationship now? Are they going to throw you away right after this, a one time thing? You’re not even sure if you want to continue it, but the thought of never seeing them again makes your stomach twist.

Wooyoung seems to see the conflicting emotions on your face, because he stops bringing the pants up your legs, lightly cupping your cheek with his hand. “We ain’t gon’ give you up that easily, sweet pea. If you want us, that is.”

You widen your eyes, holding back your smile as you look at him. “So, this isn’t a one time thing? You’re not gonna toss me away?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “When you hit gold, do you just throw it away? No, you cherish it, keep it as your own. We want you as ours, sweet pea.” he looks into the distance. “All of us do.”

“…All of you?”

Wooyoung gives you a lopsided smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You thought we two were the only ones?”

[specialagentlokitty]

Rick grimes x teen!reader - welcome home

Second I saw you wanted requests from TWD so I thought why not (don’t know if you’ve gotten a request like this before or not but I’ll send it anyway) and I know there’s a lot of these fics out there but as Rick is my favorite character and I love all your fics that I’ve written that I have read I would love to see your take on Rick finding a child or teen and taking said child in - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

Resting your arms on the metal pipe that was behind your neck, you glanced around the street briefly, looking for anything worth looking through.

There wasn’t much in this area, and going by all the broken doors and dead laying on the ground with busted heads you would say somebody had been here.

Crouched next to one of them, you grabbed a stick from your pocket, poking it into the blood to see that it was still pretty fresh.

Tossing the stick aside, you stood up, glancing around and you heard the sound of somebody nearby.

Rushing away, you jumped up on a dumpster, using it to climb on the roof of a building and you pushed it away with the pole, making it creak.

“Shit…”

You moved back from the ledge, quietly laying down, keeping as still and quiet as possible.

You couldn’t hear anything at first, no walkers, no growling, snarling, banging, but you did hear steps coming closer.

There was movement where you had gotten up on the building, but there was no attempt to get up there, so, you weren’t sure if it were dead or human.

Either way you weren’t risking your own life, both you needed to stay away from.

You waited for a few minutes, trying to see what was going to happen, then you heard a clattering sound and you jumped up, grabbing your weapon you aimed at at the ledge you had used to get up.

A man jumped up, and he aimed his gun at you.

You made no attempt to attack him, you didn’t have that kind of firepower, he would win in a heartbeat because you never bring a knife to a gunfight, and you didn’t even have a knife, you had a metal pole.

You stared at him, and he stared back.

“Who are you?” He asked.

You refused to speak.

“Are you alone?”

You didn’t reply, you weren’t a fool, you weren’t going to tell him you were alone.

You took a step back before turning around, breaking out into a sprint you ran to the edge of the building and jumped.

Tossing your weapon, you rolled onto the next roof, picking it back up and the man ran over to the ledge of the building he was on.

He looked over at you and you looked back at him, sitting down as you just watched.

He did the same thing, both of you having a silent stare down, neither of you really speaking.

“I’m Rick.”

Rick studied you, clearly you had been out here for a long time, you clothes were torn slightly, bloodied, dirtied, there wasn’t an inch if you that wasn’t covered in dirt or blood.

He recognised the look on your face, he’d seen it before, the state you were in, he had been in it before.

You couldn’t have been much older than Carl was, you were teenager, maybe 15 or 16 if his guess was right, but nobody knew how old they really were anymore.

You seemed to debate something before you finally spoke.

“(Y/N).” You replied quietly.

Rick smiled a little, raising his hands to show you that he was putting his gun away, and you reached to the side, setting your own weapon down.

“Are you hungry?”

Rick dug through his bag, pulling out an apple and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“It’s alright, it’s safe.”

“You first.”

“You don’t trust me, I respect that. I understand. I don’t have a clean knife on me.”

You scoffed a little.

“I don’t give a fuck, bite it then, I ain’t taking shit until you’ve had it first.”

“Alright.”

Rick bite into it, showing you it was safe to eat and he held it out.

You nodded, getting up, Rick tossed it over and you caught it, sitting back down.

You knew it would be safe, he didn’t even hesitate to eat some of it, if it wasn’t in any way he would have, even just a slight hesitation.

You hadn’t had food for over a day, so you quickly devoured the apple, spitting the seeds to put them in your pocket.

You glanced at Rick, looking away with a small huff.

“You got anymore…?”

He chuckled a little, nodding.

“Yes. Here.”

He tossed you another one, and you took your time eating this one.

“Do you have a community or anything like that? Any people?” Rick asked.

You shook your head.

“Do you?”

“Before I tell you anything I’ve gotta ask you a few questions, that okay?”

You nodded your head, understanding his hesitation.

It gave you an indication he did have something, and he wanted to protect whatever it was, make sure it was safe.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

You furrowed your brows a little in confusion.

“I.. I don’t know what walkers are.”

“The dead.” He said.

“Oh, I don’t know, a lot I guess. I try to just avoid them I’m only one person.”

He nodded.

“How many people have you killed?”

“None, I avoid them too.”

“Why?”

You looked at Rick before turning away, looking at the metal pipe you had, then your hands.

“Because both the dead and people are dangerous, the dead just kill you, but people? People betray you. They’ll turn you over, turn their backs on you just to save their own asses.”

“Yeah, some people will.”

You turned your attention back to the man on the other roof.

“You didn’t answer my question, do you have a community?”

Rick smiled a little.

He had decided that you weren’t a bad person, you were scared, yes. You were unsure, you didn’t trust him, and he understood that.

“Yeah, yeah I do. I was with a few of them, we got separated. You seem pretty aware of your surroundings, have you seen any go by?”

“No, this place as been empty for a few days maybe, aside from you. There were a few of the dead, or walkers. That’s it.”

Rick sighed, nodding his head slightly.

He looked up at the sun, figuring he only had maybe an hour or so left of daylight, and that wouldn’t be enough time to find anybody.

He stood up, and you watched him.

“Come with me, it’s not safe out here and it’s going to get dark. We’ll find a place, just for the night.”

Rick went to leave but when you didn’t move he hesitated, looking between you and the way back down.

“(Y/N)?”

“There’s nowhere safe.”

“My community is, but we can’t make it in time before nightfall.”

“You won’t make it you know. They always come here at night, they pass through.”

Rick furrowed his brows a little bit and you gestured to the left side of the roof he was on.

“I hid some firewood.”

Rick looked to where you pointed, and he moved a bunch of leaves to see that you had hidden wood, a box of matches as well.

He grabbed them, putting them in a scorch mark that was already made on the roof.

As nightfall, he lit the fire and you stayed over where you were, not trusting him enough ti get any closer and that’s what worried him.

“(Y/N) please, it’s cold, you’ll freeze over there.”

“Nah, you stay there, I stay here.”

“Fine, what if we swap? You hear and me there?”

You shook your head.

“Nah, you’re too old to make that jump anyways.”

He chuckled a little, resting his arm in the edge of the roof as he looked over.

“You reckon?”

“Yeah, you’re old as shit.”

“Ouch, okay. I’m here trying to make friends and you’re just throwing insults at me.”

You grinned a little at him, leaning back on your hands.

“Rick?”

He hummed a little, looking over at you.

“What did you do before all of this?”

“I was a sheriff’s deputy. What about you? Were you in school?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t much good at it though.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I dunno, it was just hard I guess.”

Rick smiled a little.

“It’s not for everybody.”

He got up to add some more wood to the fire, and he heard you jump back over, sitting near it.

He smiled a little, sitting on the other side so you felt safer.

There were walkers down below, but they didn’t seem to care about the fire or see it, and it made sense to Rick why you were camping up there.

You saw his bag and you reached over, and he turned away so he could pretend he didn’t see you sneaking food from it.

You were hungry, and he wasn’t going to stop you from taking what you needed.

He had a whole community of food, and you had barely anything.

“What’s your community like?” You asked.

Rick looked at you, shuffling a little to the side so he was able to see you a little better.

“Well, there’s people, houses, electricity, clean, running water. Food, walls and gates. It’s safe.”

You frowned.

“Walls fall, crumble. Gates break. Food and water runs out. Just because something seems safe doesn’t mean it is…”

“Maybe, but we’ll fight to keep it safe.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s home, a place for us to stay, a place to build and grow.”

You reached into your pocket, and you pulled out some paper, unfolding it and you handed it over to him.

“We had a home like that. But my mom and dad didn’t think it was safe, so they left.”

Rick took it, looking at the drawing.

He could tell it was drawn by a younger child, by you from the way you had hastily scribbled your name in the top corner of the page.

He recognised the place, by the walls surrounding it, and the very badly spelt name.

“You’re from Alexandria?”

You nodded.

“We were, but when things got worse my parents didn’t want to be sitting like prey. They couldn’t pretend everything was fine, so we all left. They died, leaving me alone out here. Been like that for a while now.”

“Do you want to go back?”

You thought for a moment, from what you could remember Alexandria had food, it sounded like what Rick had described.

But you didn’t trust people anymore.

You weren’t used to people anymore.

“I came from Alexandria (Y/N). It’s changed, I won’t lie to you some people have died, but it till standing.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, so just think about. Our gates are always open to you. But right now you need some rest, okay? I’ll keep watch.”

You didn’t say anything, and you laid down, hands on your stomach as you stared at the sky trying to keep awake.

But you were exhausted, you’d been awake for days, and Rick posed no threat, so you fell asleep.

Rick noticed this and he covered you up with his jacket, sitting nearby to keep an eye on you.

When the sun began to rise you woke up, finding Rick standing on the edge of the building, talking to somebody down below.

You sat up, his jacket falling and you stood up, grabbing his jacket and your weapon, making your way over.

You set his jacket down and you stood on the edge beside him, looking down at the man who was on the ground.

He aimed his crossbow at you, and Rick quickly put an arm in front of you.

“Daryl no. (Y/N) is from Alexandria. Before we got there.”

“You ask the questions?”

“Yeah. Passed.”

Daryl lowered his weapon, and Rick turned to you.

“He’s a friend..” he whispered.

“Come on, we need to go. There’s more walkers comin’!” Daryl called up.

He ran to the side of the building and Rick picked his jacket up, pulling it back on and grabbed his bag, making his way over.

He jumped down, and you looked down at him.

Rick smiled, holding out his hand to you.

“It’s alright.” He said gently.

You sat down, and turned around, lowering yourself towards the dumpster, as Rick helped you down, then helped you down from there.

He and Daryl stood on either side of you, and while Daryl was wary of you, Rick would offer you a reassuring smile if you looked at him.

You saw the gates of Alexandria drawing closer, and they were open, and you slowly stopped.

You hadn’t been here for years, you hadn’t been anywhere safe for years.

Rick stopped short of the gates and he turned around, giving you a gentle smile and he walked back over.

“Hey, hey it’s okay…” he whispered.

“What if it isn’t..?”

“It will be, you’ll be safe.”

He glanced back at Daryl and a few others who were waiting nervously, looking around with their weapons raised.

You glanced past him and he stood in front of you.

“Hey, don’t worry about them. Just focus on me, yeah? You don’t have to interact with anybody else until you’re ready, just focus on me, I’ll look after you.”

You moved your eyes to his, they reminded you of your dads.

The way you dad would look at you so gently, so caring.

Rick held out his hand, and you reached up, hand shaking and you pulled away.

“I can’t do it… I.. I can’t…”

“I know you’re scared, that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared (Y/N), but we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

He glanced back, giving a look to the others who began to clear people away from the gates.

“Welcome home.” He smiled.

You reached up, taking his hand, letting him walk you into the place you once called home, the place you would call your home once more.

But times had changed, you had changed, and you didn’t know how to live among people anymore, or even if you wanted to.

Rick could see that by the way you kept your the outside of the place, you turned the underground of Alexandria into your home to stay away from everybody.

Rick made his way down, a bag on his back, and he walked over to your cot, sitting next to you.

“Here, some water, food, and some books.”

He set the bag down and you handed him back to the books you were finished with.

He didn’t want to leave you down there, but if it’s where you felt safe, where you would be semi comfortable until you trusted him, felt comfortable with people he would.

But he would always remind you that you come join the rest of Alexandra whenever you were ready

[bisexualiteaa]

Okay so this has been spinning in my head since I watched the series and it might come across as a but of a strange one 😅

BUT, please could you write one where the reader is pregnant(by someone else), meets Cooper along the way and they hit it off, they go through the pregnancy together, they then in the end they raise this little baby together. Sort of cute fluffy and a lil smutty too. Thank you! ☺️

A Slice of Paradise

Cooper Howard x Pregnant! Fem Reader (SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the show, slight deviation from the game, pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, pregnancy hormones, blood, canon typical violence and gore, dirty jokes, cursing, talk of kinks, biting, 🩸 kink, p in v, unprotected seggs, p0rn with little plot, mention of knives, possible grammar/spelling errors, not proofread

AN: thank you anon for your request! My apologies that I’m getting to these asks so late, life has been rather eventful and I’m only just getting back into the swing of writing after forever long writers block. 🥲 I thank you for your patience and apologize that there isn’t a whole lot of fluff in this one but that it absolutely has ✨S P I C E.✨ Hope y’all enjoy my attempted return to writing for our dearest cowpoke, love you all! ♥️

Taglist: @expirednukacola

Trying to survive out in the wastelands while pregnant was not how you had imagined your life to be when you first found out that you were going to be having a baby. When you had first learned that you were pregnant, you were living comfortably within one of the vaults that dwelled beneath the irradiated surface. You had been matched with a fellow vault dweller who they deemed befitting in their mission to “help repopulate the surface” and in an effort to help your people, you agreed to the arrangement. The overseer, and all the other scientists and workers within the vault, claimed that there was no residence or anything living in general, up on the surface and that it would be up to you and your neighbors to fix that. Never in a million years did you think that vault life would go to such complete and utter shit that you would have to come to the surface in order to survive. Never in a million years did you also think that you would find anyone up here willing to stick by your side and not try to kill you in your sleep, and when you did, you had never expected your company to be that of a Wild West cowboy styled, bounty hunting ghoul. Needless to say, life up here was so vastly different than what they had spoken of in the vaults, that some days you swore it couldn’t be real, that it was all just one big fucked up dream that you’d wake up from any time now. But no, this was all very much real. If you made it out of this alive and long enough to see the world even somewhat recover, you were going to write a book on the long list of weird shit you’ve been through.

“I said, give me the damn supplies. NOW!” you spat angrily, pointing the barrel of your gun directly to a raider’s forehead as an extremely angry scowl came to rest across your face. “I suggest you do as the lady asks, kid. She ain’t someone you wanna mess with” Cooper spoke chillingly with a grin, knowing your pregnancy hormones were in full effect today, leaving you moody as all get out, and on days like this, you weren’t afraid to cause bodily harm, or worse, to get what you wanted or craved. Your baggy shirts hid your pregnant belly well, though you were only just now reaching somewhere around four months along, you still didn’t want strangers knowing you were pregnant. God only knows what people do out here to women with babies, and the last thing you needed was someone thinking it made you weak enough to take advantage of.

When the raider’s reaction wasn’t quick enough to your liking, you fired on him without a shred of remorse. Stepping past his limp, dead body to retrieve the box of supplies that you demanded for the bounty Cooper had completed, along with a healthy amount of caps, stimpacks and other supplies from off of his body. “It’s gon’ be one of those days, huh?” Cooper asked, taking the box from you because he might not be the kindest man, but he wasn’t about to make a pregnant lady lug a heavy box of supplies across the desert either. Granted, he knew it was probably wrong of him to insinuate what he had or to poke fun at you the way he was, the grimace and absolute apathy on your face as you shot the raider in cold blood gave him all he needed for his answer, but he knew all too well how to poke the bear, and enjoyed doing so far too much for your liking most days. “Yes. I’m fucking hungry, craving that stupid cram and he was pissing me off. Took too damn long to give us what we’re owed” you answered, your hand coming to your stomach as you complained. “We? That’s a bit of a strong word there, little lady. ‘Cause if I recall correctly, it was me who finished that bounty” he said, enjoying getting on your every last nerve on the worst days possible to do so. It was sadistic sure, but it reminded him of the days when his ex-wife was pregnant with their baby girl. In a twisted sort of way it reminded him of home. “You tryin’ to tell me you’re gonna leave a pregnant lady out in the desert all by her lonesome? Damn, I knew you were cold, didn’t think you were that cold” you joked back, making him laugh dryly. “Oh trust me honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet” he said, making you laugh. Thank god you were on his good side, you’d seen all the horrifying things he was capable of, or perhaps all the things he’s let you see that he was capable of. Regardless, you were glad he considered you a friend rather than foe.

Well, friend was a strong word once upon a time, but now? You two seemed to tread on a line somewhere between platonic and romantic, jumping back and forth between it like a tricky game of hopscotch. Though you could never be sure, like the rest of the ghoul, he was shrouded in much mystery. His heart and intentions were certainly no exception to that. “Woulda at least let the poor kid have a chance first, unlike you. So I guess you ain’t gettin’ that much farther behind me there, girly” he commented, making you chuckle at the remark and you supposed he had a point, you really didn’t give the raider enough time but your patience has been running thinner and thinner as of late. So you did as you always do, blame the pregnancy and what the hormones were doing to your brain, or make a snide joke at Cooper. “I’d blame the baby again for it, but maybe you’re just a bad influence” you quipped, making him chuckle dryly. “Honey, I am an awful influence” he replied, making you laugh as you both walked. “You aren’t so bad sometimes. But maybe it’s just ’cause you like me” you responded with a devious grin, making him shake his head playfully in denial. “Best watch it, my kindness’s got limits darlin’ and they get smaller and smaller everyday” he said, making you chuckle. “Likely story. I cook too good for you to kick me to the dusty curb” you teased, and it was true, you were too good at cooking but also too good looking to pass up. More personally, you were a reminder of the good ol’ days before all the wasteland bullshit started. A reminder of the family he once had. He craved oh so desperately to have that little slice of heaven back, and you scratched that itch in a near perfect way that he just couldn’t let you go. Whether he liked it or not, he knew he was growing attached, and as much as he didn’t like it, he knew there was no helping it either. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if you felt the same way he did, you both could have a little family together once your baby was born. A daydream he often thought of, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on keeping you safe as you both looked for a spot to shack up for the night.

As you made it somewhere safe, or as “safe” as safe gets out here for the night, you didn’t waste time making some food to keep you, the baby and Cooper fed after a long day’s travel. “That looks about as appetizing as a hog’s ass in swamp water” he spoke as he looked to your bowl filled with Blamco Mac n Cheese and cubed up Cram all mixed together in instant mash. “Don’t judge me, it isn’t me that’s wanting it so damn bad, it’s the baby” you replied, making him chuckle. Sounded exactly like what his ex-wife used to say when she had some outlandish craving when she was pregnant. “Besides, that’s coming from the one that eats people” you quipped as you horked down your entire bowl with lightning speed, making him tilt his head to the side. “Touché” he responded before turning your way when he caught you standing up out of the corner of his eye. He watched as you rolled your tense shoulders and attempted to massage your lower back to relieve the ache that began to culminate there but with the displeased look on your face, it appeared your efforts were fruitless. You hobbled over to sit by the fire, finding yourself walking rather funny from the ache in your feet and the tension throbbing in your tight calves. “You’re a walkin’ hot mess there, girlfriend” he teased, watching you squat to sit down next to him as you attempted to rub your back once more with a pained hiss. You gave a defeated, and equally pained, groan after chuckling at his quip. “Tell me about it. Had I known I’d have to manage up here, I’d have never gotten pregnant in the first place” you replied, rubbing your stomach after your hands once again could not provide you the relief from the tension your body craved to be freed from. “How far ‘long are ya now?” He asked, and you genuinely had to sit there and think about it for a moment. You figured with the way you were only really just starting to show more prominently that you were just about four months along, but you couldn’t honestly remember no matter how hard you tried. “What day is it?” You asked genuinely, making him laugh. “Shit, you don’t even know. That’ll be one hell of a surprise down the road when it pops out at the worst possible timin’” he joked, making you chuckle. “It’ll be a blessing, to finally stop carrying around the extra weight right on top of my bladder and allow some other things to shrink down a little bit maybe” you said, making him hum in amusement.

“I think it looks good on you. Plump is hard to come by these days and you sugar, got one nice lookin’ peach” he said shamelessly, making you laugh as he talked about your ass. “That why you like makin’ me walk in front of you all the time?” You asked with a grin, making him grin. “Can’t say it ain’t one of the reasons” he replied, making you laugh. “Careful, hormones are one hell of a thing to mess with when you’re talking to a pregnant lady. Suggest you don’t go starting something you can’t finish there, Coop” you threatened playfully, making him chuckle at your response. “Oh I can finish it, don’t you worry. It’s you that wouldn’t be able to keep up with me, sweetheart. ‘Specially not like that” he said, making you grin and give an intrigued hum at the challenge he was presenting you with. “Ain’t no love makin’ up here baby-doll, it’s straight up fuckin’. Sure we take our time with it, make ya feel good because it ain’t easy to come by, but it ain’t nothin’ like that soft vanilla shit you vaulties do” he said, making you grin as you leaned back on your hands and you saw the way his eyes almost immediately roamed your body. From your neck, down to your full tits that seemed to have gotten a little bigger since last time he looked at you real good, then to that cute little bump in your tummy, down to your hips and thighs that he just wanted to get a nice handful of. He wondered how soft you would feel in his rough hands, if you’d like the contrast. “Oh yeah? Think I don’t have kinks and shit like that just ‘cause I was in a vault? Can promise you some of us “vaulties” get our rocks off in similar ways to you wasteland folk” you responded, waiting to hear what his rebuttal would be. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He asked, watching you grin to yourself as you gave a soft chuckle. Normally you would never forgo this type of information about yourself, but it was a whole different world up here in the wastes, and this was a whole different you from that woman who came stumbling out that vault just some few months ago.

“Well, obviously one of those kinks is what got me pregnant in the first place” you started, making him chuckle because despite it not being anything crazy, it was still a little more interesting than some. “I like being choked, but I feel like everyone likes that one so that might as well still be vanilla” you said, making him laugh because you were right, that shit isn’t a kink up here, it’s standard practice. “So you think you like it rough, huh?” He asked as he pulled out his hunting knife, cleaning it while you both conversed oddly casually about kinks. His question made you blush a bit, it caught you off guard that he put two and two together so quickly. “I don’t think, I know I do” you answered truthfully, making him grin. “Hell, I bet you ain’t seen rough. I’d reckon you ain’t ever been manhandled by someone or used as a means of blowin’ off some steam” he said, looking at his reflection in the knife and watching the way you looked at him as he handled it. You might have thought he missed it, but he noticed the subtle way your thighs clenched together as he fiddled with it and talked about you being used and tossed around like a rag doll. “I have, just not…well, it wasn’t very good but they at least tried I guess?” You said, almost as if you were asking him and not telling him, making him laugh. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me? ‘Cause you sure as hell don’t sound so sure anymore” he replied, making you sigh. “Fuck it, who am I kidding? It was fucking awful. It wasn’t at all what I wanted it to be” you quickly admitted, making him hum in reply. “I will say…you’ve made me discover a few new ones since we started traveling together” you said almost nonchalantly, and that most certainly caught his attention. “Oh yeah? And what might those be?” He asked, genuinely curious of what he could have done to awaken something in you. “People in my vault were afraid to be rough, whether during sex or not but you aren’t and I like that a lot about you. I know you probably think I’m joking when I say I like “rough” or think I have no idea what rough entails but I do. I like being tied up, having knives involved, and getting manhandled and stuff like that” you said, making him chuckle at the very innocent seeming you, admitting to liking dangerous things. “That so, vaultie?” He asked, not wishing to admit just how much your bashful admission had gotten to him and instead was thankful for making you roll your eyes at the nickname to avoid catching sight of the issue beginning to grow in his pants at all the ideas now rummaging through his brain like a rampant wildfire. “That why you like starin’ at my knife each time I use it? And why you didn’t protest when I tied you up when we first met?” He asked, and you were almost mortified at his question, knowing now that he’d noticed all the times you’d sat there, infatuated by the way he used it. Embarrassed that he caught the look in your eyes the first time his fierce ones met your own as he bound your wrists together and walked around with you like a prisoner on a leash. “Yeah…didn’t think you caught me on it though. But enough about me and my kinks, how ‘bout you? What about sex with you is so different, huh?” You asked, trying your best to move the subject away from you but your question was like the cherry on top of his fucked up thoughts, making an evil grin stretch to his lips as you laid the perfect opportunity out for him to take.

“How ‘bout you come and find out for yourself, sugar?” He asked, taking you off guard by his advance, but you couldn’t deny the way it sent a surge of heat straight to your core at such a straight forward answer. The pregnancy hormones had been eating you alive lately, making you stare at him in ways you shouldn’t have, thinking about him in ways you knew you shouldn’t. Old you would have kicked yourself for thinking the way you had been and allowing yourself to seem so desperate, but you two were close enough at this point. It wasn’t as if you were stooping low enough to just fuck some random stranger. Well, scratch that, you sort of did that already because that’s how you wound up pregnant in the first place. Thanks Vault-Tec. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong, or seem so desperate of you after all. He chuckled at your look of shock at his reply, making you blush in embarrassment that you were nearly frozen, unsure of what to do or what to think when you normally always had something to sass him back with. “C’mon now, surely ya didn’t think this wouldn’t end up happenin’ did you? We been layin’ it on thick with each other f’ too damn long now to play that game” he said with such confidence, it almost pissed you off but you couldn’t be mad, not when the pregnancy hormones made you so incredibly horny for this man that you could hardly think of anything else. Your mind was swimming at all the ideas of what he could be capable of, what he had the potential to do. You were left truly wondering just how different, and possibly how much better of an experience it would be with him rather than the last time you’d had sex. You wondered if it would really be any different than what you and your fellow vault dwellers were accustomed to or if maybe he was talking up a big game to get you interested. Regardless of whether it was talk or not, it had the effect on you he was hoping it would, because now you were past the point of pretending you didn’t want to find out, you needed to know. You felt as your core began to ache, excitement beginning to collect in the pit of your stomach as your panties grew damp at all your dirty thoughts. “Honestly I…I-I didn’t know it passed your mind like it has been on mine” you admitted with a deeper blush, making him chuckle as he moved closer. “So ya do think of me? Well ain’t that cute” he replied. “Hard not to think about you like that when I’m watchin’ them nice big hips sway whenever you walk in front a me” he added, making you chuckle as your cheeks burned about as hot as the campfire. “I haven’t uhh…I haven’t *done anything* since I got pregnant so, I’m not really sure how to go about it but, if you’d be willing, I’d like to find out just how different it is to be with you” you said so sweetly, almost innocently and damn it if it didn’t make him feel some type of way. He chuckled to himself a little. “Looks like you’re in luck then. Even luckier that it’s with someone who’s got a little more experience in this field than the average hit ‘n quit” he said, and that’s what stopped you for a moment. Was that all that this was going to be for him? A one night thing to settle some curiosity, then go right back to the way things were? After all this time spent traveling together and getting close to him, you didn’t want that to be the case. It was in that moment you’d realized just how much you genuinely cared for the ghoul who was in your company.

“On one condition” you said, making him raise a non existent brow at you, curious to hear what you had to say. “It’s more than just a one time thing. I don’t…I don’t do flings. Call me a “deluded little vaultie” for it or whatever else you want, but I only want this if you want it to go somewhere, even if it ain’t anything more than a fuck buddy situation” you said, and truth be told he wasn’t completely sure on what he wanted. He knew it had been a long time since last he had a chance to do something like this with someone, and that he liked you but he also knew the thing going on between you had been going on for long enough, why not see where it goes? “Trust me sugar, if you’re still here travelin’ with me, ain’t none of it gonna be without somethin’ behind it. Had you asked me when we first met? I’d have told ya different, but against all better judgement ya managed to get me attached to ya. This is me tellin’ you to pay your consequence for bein’ such a damn tease all the time” he responded with a grin that relieved your every nerve, his hand coming to grab yours and moving it to the tent in his pants to prove his point, making you grin and chuckle. “Didn’t know I get you that worked up” you replied teasingly as you moved closer. “Imma let you in on a simple rule I like to live by, little lady; you cause it, you fix it” he said, and you grinned as you grabbed his hand, pulling it to slide beneath your shorts to rest outside your panties that were getting wetter and wetter with your excitement. “Looks like you got some responsibility to take too then, cowpoke” you said with a grin, and that’s when he knew this would lead to something good.

You smiled into your shared kiss, shocked to find the slightly chapped, thin irradiated lips to feel so nice against your own. It wasn’t sweet like the kisses you’d had before, it was carnal, passionate even. Driven by pure lust and god did it make you melt. Your hands came to rest on the back of his neck as you straddled his lap. Your knees were dug into the sand beneath his sleeping bag without a care in the world as his hands groped your ass and sensitive tits. You moaned as his lips and teeth soon worked at your weak spot on your neck, making you roll your hips against him as your eyes fluttered shut. You held onto him as you rocked your hips back and forth, earning a groan from the ghoul below you. “Fuck, Cooper…please” you whined, making him pull away from your neck to click his tongue at you. “You can beg all you want, but I ain’t skippin’ over the good parts just ‘cause you’re gettin’ antsy” he said with a grin up at you before popping open the buttons of your beat up flannel shirt and latching onto one of your breasts, sucking on the sensitive bud. You normally were self conscious of the fact that you’d foregone wearing a bra in favor of comfort, but in this moment you couldn’t be more thankful that it was one less article of clothing to worry about taking off. You moaned as his fingers toyed with the other side, pinching harshly as his teeth would occasionally nip at your perked bud or the soft skin around it, but being sure to give your tits equal love and attention. Rather shocked that you hadn’t yelped or drawn back at his rougher display to your overly sensitive nipples, he continued. “Fuck…” you whined, feeling as one of his hands dragged down to the waistband of your underwear, before working his hand beneath it to your clit. His fingers worked tight circles along your aching bud, leaving your head devoid of all thoughts as he brought you the pleasure your body had been craving for ages. You hated the way you felt so close to your impending release already, having been pent up since even before leaving the vaults, and now that you were pregnant, you were even more sensitive to it all. “Oh god, Cooper…” you panted out, your strained, pleading voice like music to his ruined ears as you moaned his name. “Doin’ good for me sweetheart” he praised, only adding fuel to the fire that was ready to consume you at any moment.

You moaned blissfully at the pleasurably painful stretch of him working his way inside of you finally. God how you ached for that feeling, to be stretched and filled in ways nothing else could give you other than him. “Damn you’re a tight little thing” he commented, already moving and setting a pace without giving you time to adjust. It was bliss, the painful draw out but the pleasurable thrust back in. You just couldn’t get enough. “Normally this is where I’d throw you around and fuck you absolutely stupid, but last thing I want is t’ hurt that baby” he said, making you wish you could know what it felt like to be used by him, to be thrown around and taken by him but you knew you couldn’t, not yet. “Maybe I’ll just give ‘em a sibling instead, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” he asked in your ear in a low rasp as the sound of skin slapping skin started to fill the air. A pleasant, tingling shudder ran down your spine at the prospect of it, clearly he hadn’t forgotten that first kink you’d told him about. He gave a grin, feeling the way your walls fluttered around his dick from his words, and seeing the effect it had on you left him nearly feral. Guess you weren’t lying when you said one of those kinks of yours was the reason you were pregnant. “Yeah? You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweet thing?” He asked, knowing the answer but he loved the way he had you absolutely cock drunk on him too much to not try and hear from you. “Yes! Fuck, I’d love that, please!” you said through your moans, making him chuckle. “I betchu would” he said all smug and proud. “Bet you get off on the idea ‘f fuckin’ someone who could rip you t’ shreds, dontchya sugar? Ya like it dangerous” he said, making you shake your head yes in reply. “Yes! Fuck- Cooper!” You moaned into the midnight air, your back arched from the ground as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your high. “Look good like this, sprawled out below me all helpless and vulnerable. I could just eat you alive” he said with a sadistic grin, his lips just below your ear, his breath ghosting your neck as he rocked his hips into you. “Bet you’d taste so fuckin’ good” he added, groaning through gritted teeth as he watched your engorged tits bounce with each harsh thrust, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your soft, smooth skin. “Why don’t you- fuck! Have a taste and find out?” You replied, making him look up at you with a wild look in his eyes. It was untamed, feral even and by god if they weren’t the most magical words he’d ever heard. “Shit, don’t play with me” he said, looking at your neck and shoulder, practically drooling over the idea of how you would taste. “I ain’t playin’, bite me” you insisted, and with that, he surely wasn’t going to pass down such a beautiful opportunity.

His blunt teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss as a white, hot pain coursed through the muscle before simmering into something more pleasurable. “Shit! Cooper- fuck me, that feels good” You moaned as he almost seemed to use his teeth to attach himself to you as he rutted into you with reckless abandon, leaving you writhing beneath him in pleasure. His eyes rolled back as a moan left him from the taste of your blood flooding his tongue, you were even more delicious than he originally anticipated. Crimson coated his lips and teeth, a small stream even leaking from the corner of his mouth and down the column of his neck as he detached himself from you. He’d gotten his taste, given you an experience you certainly wouldn’t forget, but the sight below him was certainly one he would forever commit to memory. The imprint of his teeth marks that marred your otherwise perfect skin, deep purple beginning to blossom around it as blood faintly trickled down your chest from the fresh wound. If you weren’t delicious before, you were absolutely delectable now. He ran his tongue along the trail of blood, the hot, wet muscle leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he traveled back up to the source before laving his tongue across the punctures in your skin that he left. “Freaky little thing” he said, grinning at the way you had enjoyed feeling him sink his teeth into you and allowing him to taste you in such a manner. “Told ya” you quipped before being cut off by your own moan as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you, brushing past it with almost perfect precision. “Right there! Fuck, just like that. So close…” you whined, making him chuckle. “Go ‘head sweetheart, let go for me” he permitted, and with that, the coil in your core snapped, sending you toppling over the edge into an orgasm so earth shattering you swore you were no longer on this earth in that moment. Cooper was quick to withdraw from you, wanting nothing more than to feel the sweet way your gummy walls would hug him as he came inside of you, but he couldn’t bare the thought of putting that precious baby of yours at any more risk. For now he would have to settle on finishing on you rather than in you, but the sight of you covered in his cum was surely another marvelous one to behold in his eyes. From the way your eyes sat lazily half lidded, to the way his seed looked upon your chest and stomach, he had to admit, it certainly wasn’t a sight to complain about.

You both took a moment to bask in the afterglow of your orgasms, coming down from cloud nine to do your best at steadying your breathing. The gentleman he was, he helped in cleaning you up, offering you some Rad Away to take when you were finally able to pick yourself up from his sleeping bag. “Sate your curiosity?” He asked with a grin as he slipped his pants back on and his duster, lighting up a cigarette to enjoy as he sat next to you. You gave a laugh as you redressed. “Sated my curiosity for tonight, but never know what these hormones have in store for me tomorrow” you replied, making him laugh dryly. “Suppose I can’t argue with that logic” he said, making you giggle as you took the Rad Away and got ready to sleep, thankful for the warmth his body provided in the frigid temperature of the desert night air. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring for you two, but at least you knew it was something you both could grow to explore. Maybe that slice of heaven wasn’t such a distant memory after all.

[retrospacejelly]

A Western Romance

Pairing: Ex-outlaw!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lost and in need of a place to stay, the ex-outlaw needs a place to sleep. Good thing he wandered into your yard.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Guns, Mentions of the devil’s tango, typical cowboy things, language

Part: 1/?

Part: 1, 2, 2 1/2, 3

Not proofread

A/N: Personally, there should be more Western Miguel content. I love Cowboys! I had this idea brewing for a while, and character ai helped push the plot! (Thank you Monstera for letting me expand on the plot!)

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Crickets chirped as the sun set over the horizon. Despite the warm weather of July, a nice breeze blew through the small town of Nueva Falls. On the outskirts of the tiny town, a small house sat just over the hills, hidden from society.

Y/N hummed a tune as she took her now-dry linens off the worn line. A weaved basket sat at her boot-covered feet, holding sheets, blankets, and whatever else was washed that morning. 

As she reached for the last sheet, a twig snapped in front of her. Pausing both her movements and her humming, she listened for any other noises. It could always be a rodent or a coyote. She mentally groaned. Ever since one of the panels to the fence around the chicken coop broke, coyotes had been raiding (or at least attempting to raid) the coop. 

She brandished her pistol that had sat snug between her hip and skirt, slowly moving from behind the sheet. Best not to provoke it. For now. 

Y/N squints at the now darkened horizon, not noticing an immediate threat. Before she could turn around, a hand slipped around her middle and another over her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound, Dama.”

The voice grunts out. His breathing is uneven, and despite his strength, sounds weak. Y/N nods frantically, pistol still clutched tightly in her hand. He slowly releases her, turning her around to face him. 

Now getting a better view of the man, Y/N’s jaw almost dropped. Why he had to be over 6’5! His tan skin shined with what little moonlight was above, his piercing gaze watching her every move. She did the same. 

Lowering her gaze, she noticed his disheveled state. His clothes were wrinkled and darkened from dust and grime, his peppered hair messy and sticking to the nape of his neck. He didn’t seem to have a weapon of any kind, not that he’d need one with his burly build.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, trying to scan for any noticeable injuries. Seemingly taken aback by her question, there’s a beat of silence before he lets out a deep chuckle. Lord.

“Are people in this town always this kind and trustin’ of strangers?” He replies, his eyes falling onto her gun. “Well, ‘Cept maybe you.”. 

Y/N can’t help but smirk, a surge of confidence taking over. “Well, I’m not like most people in this town. That shoulda’ been made obvious to ya’ when you wandered on my property. Now. Are you hurt? And what are you doin’ on my property?” She prods again.

He shakes his head. “No, no. I ain’t hurt. Just tired and hungry. What’s a lil’ thing like you doin’ out here by lonesome anyhow? Don’t you know wild animals roam ‘round at night?”

She huffs, annoyed. “You don’t do too well answerin’ questions, now do ya? Why. Are. You. On. My. Property?” 

He throws his hands up in mock defense, shrugging off her comment. “I’ve been wanderin’ through the desert for the past two days after my horse broke its leg. Long story short, I was robbed by bandits while I was camped out, and all I have on me are the clothes on my back, Senora.” He moves closer, boldly reaching up to caress her cheek,

“Please, I just need a place to stay and a meal to eat. Your abode was the first inklin’ of settlement I’ve seen these past two days.” He looks into her eyes, his voice now a whisper. “Please.”

She hums skeptically, taking a step back. “Why not stay at an inn in town? They got brothels to keep a horn dog such as yourself company.” Y/N snarks back, slipping her pistol back into her waistband. 

He chuckles again. “You suggestin’ I partake in those kinds of…sinful pleasures? Now that’s just hurtful, Princessa.”

“What unmarried man doesn’t?” Y/N snaps, crossing her arms. She taps her foot against the ground, waiting for another comeback. Once again he chuckles, shaking his head. Some conversation they were having. 

“And how would you know if I’m a married man or not, hun?” 

“Well, I don’t see no ring on your finger. And with the way you were touchin’ me earlier, what else am I to assume, hun?” 

He grins. “Who says I’m flirtin'? Maybe I’m just a friendly guy.” A beat of silence. “A bit too friendly, don’t you think?”. He shrugs again, “Is there such a thing as bein’ too friendly?” he inquires.

She nods, “‘Course there is.” He takes a step forward again, his posture relaxed. He takes a lock of hair into his hand, twirling it. “If I’m bein' too friendly, then tell me ta scram.”

Y/N smiles, “‘Corrdin’ to you I’m too kind.”. Noticing her playful jest, he smiles too. “Yeah, a real ray of sunshine you are.” He teases, dropping her lock of hair. “Mn, and you a ball o’ fire.” 

“You seem awfully friendly for a gal who brandished her gun towards me.” He says, leaning in ever so slightly. Y/N places a hand on her pistol. “Yeah, and this gal still has her gun. Don’t go tryin’ nothin’ now”.

He lowers his voice. “Trust me sweet thing. I’d never do nothin’ of the sort…less you want me to?”. She leans in, just an inch away from his face, only to swiftly pull away. “How many nights you plan on stayin’ cowboy?”.

His eyes widen at her trick, but he quickly regains his composure. “Just a night, Darlin.”

She nods. “Mn, alright. I won’t charge ya…money that is.” 

He smirks. “What are ya lookin’ for in exchange then…?”

“Help on my ranch.” Y/N shuffles past him and picks up her basket. She pulls the sheet from the line and plops it in the basket. “One of the panels that fence my chicken coop done broke on me, and I haven’t had time to fix it. Damn coyotes keep trying to snag a snack.” She huffs, setting the basket on her hip. “Sound like a deal?” 

He ponders over her offer, looking up at the moon. He looks back down at her. “You’re askin’ a total stranger to work on your ranch for a night?” 

She refrains from rolling her eyes. “I’m also lettin’ a total stranger into my house. I think rationality has flown out the window. Besides, you were the one to come onto my property askin’ for a bed and a meal.”

He rests his hands on his hips. “You’re an interestin’ one, I’ll give ya that. Can’t tell if you’re too trustin’ or jus’ know how to talk a man inta’ doin’ favors for ya’.”

She shrugs, “The motel’s open all night, you choose.”

He lets out a sigh, not wanting to go into the busy town. Surely someone would recognize him there. He’s surprised she hasn’t already. “Alright, Senora. Ya got yourself a deal. I’ll fix up yer fence if it means a roof over my head and a pretty lil’ thing to keep me company.”

Y/N chuckles, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “Alright, c’mon and follow me.” She says, walking towards her back porch. She hears his heavy footsteps trailing behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[cultofdixon]

People change, it takes time to prove that

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Not every Savior is bad. Some were stuck in the Sanctuary because of Negan’s manipulative ways. You wiggled your way into the archer’s heart and understood why he didn’t trust you right away. But when the war was over, he would do his best to get his family to accept you • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Injuries / Scars / Suicide Mentioned

Requested by: Anon

“I met someone”

The declaration only brought a confused expression onto Carol’s face when her best friend said such. Met someone? In the middle of a war?

“Who is this…someone?”

“Her name is Y/N” Daryl picked at the soup that Carol made for him when he came to check on her in the house given by King Ezekiel. “She is…something. Definitely another made for a world like this”

“Like you?” Carol smiles resting her head in her hands. “So she’s a perfect match for you already. Tell me more”

“She’s a savior”

That was pretty much the end of that conversation because who wants to hear Carol tell Daryl how wrong that is? Or that she could be manipulating him for Negan’s gain? He’s going to hear this from more than just Carol so it doesn’t need to be told now.

When the final fight came and the Saviors were lined up on one side of the field with their weapons full of ammunition made by Eugene. The second they triggered their guns, the ammunition backfired against the few. Daryl immediately tensed to the action searching through their lineup for her and noticed Eugene quickly helping Y/N to her feet as she noticed Negan booking it.

“Eugene someone—-“

“No one is going anywhere” Rosita caught the two off guard by pressing a gun to Y/N’s back after taking out a few saviors to save Eugene.

“Rosita. She ain’t a threat”

“You’re on thin ice, Eugene. But I know you, I don’t know her” Rosita frowns debating on taking out the Savior for what she indirectly has done.

“Drop it.”

The stern gravely voice that came from the archer took all three off guard to the point that Rosita listened. But to the degree that she knocked Y/N onto her knees making her crawl to the other Saviors they were holding hostage until Negan met his end. Even then, some expected to bring out revenge on the saviors that caused them trouble but they were met with a second chance.

Especially…Negan.

When the crowd dispersed back into the communities for the night knowing tomorrow will be the start of the rebuild for every community. The Sanctuary especially.

Before Daryl could even think about making his way to Y/N, Jesus had stopped him asking to come with him and Maggie back to the Hilltop to talk about the decision Rick made that is supported by Michonne and a few others but not immediately.

“I have to check on someone”

“The Savior?” Jesus questioned only for confirmation by a nod. “I know what she did for you, but tonight is a lot. Especially on Maggie and you’re the closest thing she has to a brother. For now just. Please stick with your family”

The archer didn’t even give it another thought, but that didn’t mean she left his. Just meant that late in the night when Y/N found herself in the loading dock of the Sanctuary taking care of another pile of dead walkers, she didn’t expect to hear his bike rolling in. Daryl brought his bike closer to the building to avoid the fire pit that the now ex-Savior had made to contain the blaze keeping it from catching onto the main building.

“Why’re you up?” Daryl asks as Y/N fiddles with a matchbox but her hands were shaking too much. “Hey…I’ve got it” he reaches to take the box noticing her wounds from before weren’t treated. He tosses the box down quickly making her turn toward him to find she bled through the bandages that were covering the shrapnel pieces that embedded in her when the ammunition backfired. “Why haven’t you changed your bandages? How’d yea even—“

“Please stop asking a lot of questions…I’ll just tell you what you want if you re-dress it” She sounded defeated and granted she was. That day was a lot and not just for the victors.

As Daryl got out his bandages that he started carrying on his person, Y/N started to talk about what happened after Rick practically dismissed everyone.

Those from the Sanctuary returned home, but as for those who were more of the civilian variety were given the opportunity to disperse into the other communities. Some stayed to help rebuild it, given Rick checked on the place once Siddiq and Jerry took Negan back to Alexandria with Michonne’s supervision. He’s going to have to have one of his own watch the Sanctuary and it’s rejuvenation because he doesn’t trust any of the soldiers of the Sanctuary. He even snapped at Y/N when he heard about her association from Carol, because she offered to watch the rejuvenation but he took that as her possibly becoming the next Negan.

But she left out that part when telling Daryl. Rick is his brother who already made a terrible decision by letting Negan live and that took a toll on his image. She didn’t want to make it worse, though she’s still a bit confused on why he cares so much for her.

She may have not done any of the killing…but she was still a part of the wrong side.

Daryl tossed the lit match onto the pit watching it burn for a moment before returning to his spot right beside Y/N. He kept his eyes on the fire for a moment longer before bringing his attention to Y/N who seemed to be watching him.

“Somethin’ on my face?”

“Besides sadness? No”

“I ain’t sad” He scoffs. “Disappointed more so.”

Y/N frowns bringing herself closer to him and gently taking his hand feeling him squeeze it instantly. She brought both hands to hold his one gently tracing her fingers against his knuckles.

“I’m sorry”

“None of this is your fault, sunshine” Daryl reassures with a squeeze of her hand. “I just…wish for a few things and time can only really make them happen”

“Anything I can help you with? Any wish to make come true” Y/N chuckles lightly, being taken by surprise a bit when Daryl pulled gently on their conjoined hands bringing her close enough to bring his lips softly onto hers.

It lasted for just for a second and as Daryl slowly pulls away he couldn’t help the small smile to grace his lips when hers finally returned to her features with a hint of a blush to her cheeks.

“Let me take care of yea, like you’ve taken care of me”

________

“Y/N? The fuck are you doing here?”

“Was asked by Negan to check on his new prisoner. To make sure you haven’t killed him”

“That son of a bitch has zero faith in me” Dwight scoffs as Y/N rolls her eyes to his words. “I haven’t even touched the man. All I did was do the usual for our prisoners. Hose them down and strip them”

“That’s…we do that?”

“You’re lucky you’re not that important”

Y/N was struck by such but it doesn’t entirely matter. She wished she was the one to die at her line up. Instead Negan took her as collateral that eventually had her become one of his men and her old group perished.

“Negan is the one that asked me to check his injuries given our doctor is currently with one of his wives” Y/N gestures to the medical bag she had as Dwight’s expression fell instantly.

“You can handle this by yourself?”

“I knocked Negan on his ass once, yeah I got socked after but I think I can handle myself”

Dwight gave her a certain unreadable look before swinging “his” crossbow over his chest. “I’ll be back”

The second he left, Y/N approached the door unlocking it from her end as she opens the door she noticed the naked man flinch to the sound.

“I’m sorry” She frowns hesitantly approaching setting her bag on the floor and while she knelt by her stuff she pulled out a pair of clothes which Dwight didn’t know about.

Daryl didn’t say a word only grunted when this woman he barely knew asked if she could take a look at the bullet wound amongst others. He felt a bit exposed half way through the whole check up but Y/N kept her attention where it needed to be.

Once he was patched up, he noticed her quickly glance back outside before reaching into her bag for a few more things. A water bottle and a sandwich wrapped it paper.

“I’ll come back in after thirty minutes to clean up so it looks like I didn’t give you these. The clothes are also meant to be spray painted, I can’t control that”

“Why are you doing this?” He finally spoke in a whisper loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“Because I can. And I’m going to help you out of here” She whispered the last part and with that took a step out closing the door but left a crack for him to be able to see what was in his cell.

________

It’s been about a little over a week since the war ended.

Y/N stood outside the Sanctuary amongst other Saviors listening to Rick’s list of items from their place and where they were going into the other communities. Hence the three cars behind the man. A few of the people protested but he of course offered sanctuary in the other communities as long as they help with their rebuilds just like they were doing with this community. It honestly felt like they were purging the Sanctuary and who could blame them? Who else would want a physical reminder of where the dictator used to call home? Well then you remember all the places your history teacher talked about and it’s really saying nowhere is a good place for most glorified individuals.

“Y/N.” Rick caught her a bit off guard and granted a few of the men that Negan had favored as well. “You’ll be in charge of seeing everything on the list make it to the trucks while I scout out the place with a few others”

“Seriously trusting this woman?”

“Yeah she could never follow an order correctly back during the Savior days” Savior days…gross.

“Negan only had her in his arsenal of command for the woman vote type shit” a third made the final comment as Y/N was both tensed and defeated, but she was feeling the second one already today.

She was supposed to go hunting with Daryl but Michonne and Carol had asked to join him when they came with Rick to the Sanctuary, where he’s been staying. He told them he already had Y/N, but Michonne argued saying it could benefit the other communities if they caught more game and Carol added the “you need people you can trust to watch your back” hence why Y/N didn’t go. Daryl trusted her, but Y/N knew they didn’t.

“I don’t trust her with my life but I trust her enough to get this shit done and since y’all seem to like to poke the bear—-You’re comin’ with me to see the integrity of your gates and scope out what y’all have to add to the place” Rick gestures for them to follow and of course they did, meanwhile the others followed Y/N’s lead hesitantly.

A couple hours went by and Y/N found herself in their infirmary putting away what was almost ransacked when they came through. It really did feel like they were purging when 90% of the equipment is gone to replace most of Alexandria’s and give one to the Kingdom. 80% of their pantry and artillery was split between the communities. Then a few more people left entirely or into another community.

Daryl had returned to the Sanctuary in hopes of finding her but instead found Rick loading up the last vehicle, the Alexandria one.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Giving back to the communities. What else would I be doing? I told you this the other night”

“Yeah but looks like you’re liquidating”

“Five dollar word coming from the man that barely shared more than three words with me when we first met” Rick jokes and it obviously didn’t reach. “They’ve lost a lot of their people to the other communities. For the most part it’s those who have grown to live in the sanctuary or ex-Saviors that need to be monitored if things go south”

“Is Y/N still here?”

“Who? The ex-Savior that a lot of the men don’t like?”

“Who doesn’t like Y/N.” Daryl said with a bit of sternness in his tone taking that more as they are messing with her. And he’s not far off on that note. “You’re dodging—-“

“She’s still here. Cleaning up the mess we made when shifting shit around.” Rick states shutting the trunk. “You coming with or what?”

“Or what” Daryl scoffs about to head inside when he heard Rick mumble to himself. “What’d yea say?”

“Carol told me you fell for a Savior and I’m sorry that my immediate thought was she manipulated yea”

“Are you—-Is she fucking endorsing that thought when she’s never met the girl completely?! How’d yea think I got out of this fucking hell hole?”

“I’m sorry Daryl, but you keep comin’ back cuz she’s here. You sure she’s not trying to make you into the next Ne—-“

“I’m not”

Y/N just had to walk into the wrong moment of the conversation as she held herself with this disappointed look on her face toward the retired sheriff and a bit toward the archer but more in a different sense.

“Daryl doesn’t have to be here if he doesn’t want to. Besides, you should’ve tried harder to get him out instead of sitting on your hands.”

“Are you seriously gonna go that route with me? You have no idea how much we’ve lost because of that bitch dog you called a leader”

“Rick—-“ Daryl was about to cut in when he watches Y/N hop down from the platform she stood on bringing herself up in Rick’s business. Then suddenly her fist met his jaw knocking him off balance as he quickly collects himself. The shock stunning him.

“HE KILLED THE ONLY FAMILY I HAD LEFT TO BEAT ME INTO SUBMISSION IN THE BEGINNING. KILLED MY ONLY BROTHER IN OUR LINE UP. TORTURED MY FATHER TO HIS BREAKING POINT AND HE GAVE UP ON HIS LIFE. HE DID UNTHINKABLE THINGS TO MY BEST FRIEND THAT SHE DIDNT WANT TO LIVE ON THIS FUCKING EARTH ANYMORE” Y/N shouted in Rick’s face making him retract but she kept on. “HE BROKE MY NOSE—-BROKE MY RIBS—-…” she hesitated and fell the hot tears get the better of her. “I wouldn’t let him use me and he wanted to kill me because of it. Instead I watched his prisoners, made sure they were taken care of while their main watcher did all the dirty work. I never killed a single person while as a savior, expect for another savior when it came to getting Daryl to escape….Ive lost enough and I lost myself.”

Daryl felt the blade dig deeper in his chest hearing all of that come from her as she’s never shared so much all at once. He tried to bring himself to her and all he wanted was to engulf her in his embrace but Y/N stepped away wiping away the tears that just continued to fall.

“I wasn’t going to let him kill another of your family…and I wasn’t going to let Daryl never see his again.” Y/N frowns turning to Daryl and feeling the tears come on strong. “You don’t have to keep coming here. Trust me I get what it’s like stepping in that building…It’s just been my home for too long. I can’t go anywhere else without being labeled a monster”

And with that she headed back inside but after cleaning up the mess, Y/N went outside with her pack and lighter to have a smoke before turning in when she noticed Daryl sitting on the platform in the loading dock with his pack beside him. She brought herself to sit beside him at a respectable distance but he closed the space between them bringing his full attention onto her as she didn’t utter a word only felt more tears spring on feeling his rough calloused hands gently brush away the tears.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re a part of my family now whether you like it or not” He states feeling a small smile grace his features when he heard her laugh escape her lips. “Rick’s gonna talk to the others about yea and thinks you’d be more comfortable in Alexandria…plus you can stay with me”

“Daryl…I…“

“You saved me, and…I love you for that” Daryl gently pressed his forehead against hers. “It’ll take time for them to get used to yea, yeah. But they’ll eventually love you almost as much as I do”

Y/N felt an old warmth return in her chest after so long of not feeling it as she brought her arms around his neck pulling herself into his embrace feeling him pull her into his lap keeping her close as humanely possible.

“I love you too, Daryl”

[ghostboneswrites2]

Could you maybe write something about Daryl with a reader who’s similar to him and has also experienced physical abuse from their father and they just comfort each other and bond over their scars please

Reminders

Note: My laptop cord broke so forgive any formatting errors :( I toyed with a. Few ideas for this but settled on prison era Daryl with non established relationship fem reader. Def some chemistry, but nothing established. Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, light profanity

        Daryl squinted in the sun as he chewed on a freshly picked tomato from the garden. The prison yard was busy, buzzing with activity as people focused on their tasks and socialized amongst themselves. He watched them, studied them. It was new territory for him to feel so important yet so alienated at the same time. Sure, the alienation was mostly his own doing, as he wasn’t much of a social butterfly. He considered himself to be more of a moth, fluttering around on his own in the dark, avoiding the sun. Still, with so many people relying on him and admiring him, it felt unnatural to just walk up to somebody and chat about mundane things as if the world were still turning at its normal pace.

        Then, his eyes found you. He never knew what to make of you. You were new — even fresher than the ex-Wooburians. He was the one who found you alone in the forest, yet he had never had a full conversation with you. You were timid and rough on the exterior, never keeping eye contact with anyone unless the sole purpose was intimidation. They almost didn’t let you stick around. It wasn’t until you had a one-on-one with Hershel, where he found you were not all bad, that he talked the rest of the council into keeping you around.

        You proved yourself pretty useful, too. You knew a thing or two about gardening crops, you were good with knives and guns, and you were fast. You were never afraid to do what needed to be done, even if it put your own life at risk. You were sent on a lot of runs for that purpose. With people like you and Daryl out on those runs, casualties were few if any. You were both natural protectors.

         Some of the kids had taking a liking to you, namely Carl and Mika. You liked them, too, if for different reasons. Carl was strong, and he had an understanding for the world and it’s workings. He impressed you. Mika was sweet, and even if she seemed to sweet for the world, you knew there was a part of her that had potential. She was sure to figure things out, maybe even kick some serious ass one day.

        All that aside, Daryl couldn’t read you. Or, maybe he could, and that was the problem. He wasn’t willing to accept how similar the two of you may have been. Hell, he had barely accepted that maybe, somewhere inside him, he was as good as any of these people chattering around him. 

        “Stare any harder and you’ll melt a hole through her head.” Carol’s voice pulled his gaze away from you. He glared at her.

        “Wha’d’ya mean?” 

        “Oh, come on. You’ve been watching her every move this morning.” She nudged her shoulder against his. “Why don’t you just go talk to her?”

       “Hm.” He grunted with a shrug. “Ain’t like that.”

       “Why not? She’s cute.” Carol persisted. “She’s like you, but pretty. You’d get along.” She teased.

        “Pfft.” He tutted. “She ain’t like me.” 

        “Whatever.” She chuckled. 

        Days would go by where he’d watch you from a distance in between his own tasks. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice or feel his eyes dancing over your skin. It was just that you didn’t know how to react or respond. Daryl wasn’t an ugly man by any stretch of the imagination, and unlike him, you could read him all too well because there was something about him that you recognized in yourself and you were willing to accept that similarity. 

        You snuck your glances in, too. You’d watch from the corner of your eye as his hands gripped the steering wheel on a run, or you’d allow your vision to follow him as he stalked through the gates and into the trees to hunt. You often wondered if he really cared to hunt or if he just wanted to get away. Probably both.

        All in all, it was a sad case of two idiots who couldn’t see past their own insecurities and fears far enough to make a move. And it stayed that way, longer than it should have. 

        One night, when the air was particularly hot and thick with humidity, and he got tired of flipping around on his cot trying to find a cool spot on the sheet, Daryl went outside for a smoke. The prison was fast asleep, save for him, and apparently you. He was about halfway through his cigarette when he noticed a small orange light on the other side of the yard. It would move up and down every so often. He quickly realized it was the cherry of another cigarette. 

        He couldn’t make out who it was in the darkness, nor could he think of anyone else he’d ever seen smoking. So, he strolled across the grounds and decided to make himself known, so that the other smoker could be known to him. Somehow he was shocked to know it was you.

        “Hey.” Your soft voice said casually, not offering even a glance in his direction. You were leaning one shoulder against the chain link fence, watching the quiet forest on the other side.

        “Didn’t know ya smoked.” He commented, gluing his eyes to the tree line as well.

        “Found the ones I like on our last run. Had to grab ‘em.” You shrugged, taking a long drag and enjoying the cooling menthol as it coated your throat.

        “Which ones?” He asked. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

        Instead of telling him, you just held up the pack. 

        “Didn’t take ya for the menthol type.” He mumbled. You sent a quick glance his way.

        “What kind would you take me for, then?” You wondered. 

        “Mm-mm.” He shrugged. “Marlboros. The gold pack.” 

         “Ew.” You chuckled. “I’m a Camel Crush girl, through and through. You?” 

        “Don’t matter.” He admitted. “Just the strong ones.” 

        You nodded and hummed and allowed the silence to creep in. You two stood that way for a few minutes, the only sounds being the noises of puffing and exhaling over a symphony of crickets and night critters. 

        “Why Crush?” He finally asked. “Why not just menthol?”

        “I like having choices.” You said simply. 

        A slight breeze picked up and chilled your sweaty skin. You wore nothing but a tank and shorts, given the boiling temperatures inside. You ran a hand over your arm to combat the chill. His eyes instinctively flickered to the movement and focused on your hand first, then the flesh beneath. Where he expected to find smooth skin, he instead found a rough terrain of keloid scars. 

        He had never noticed them before because your sleeves always covered them.

        “What happened?” He asked. 

        “What?” You looked over to him and realized he was looking at your arms. Your hand impulsively moved and covered the ugly reminders of your past. “Oh. Nothing good.” You said vaguely.

        “Mm.” He nodded, wondering if it was the same kind of bad things that left him with his own scars. 

        “Shit.” You mumbled, realizing that small gust of wind blew the cherry off your cigarette. “Got a light? I used my last match for this.” 

        Wordlessly, he dug in his pocket and handed you his zippo. You lit your cigarette back up and passed his lighter back. More silence followed before he broke it again. 

        “Was it your mom or your dad?” He bravely questioned. 

        Your eyes darted to him harshly, but they softened. You considering not answering him, but decided there wasn’t much of a reason not to.

        “Neither. It was my step dad.” You confessed.

         “My dad was a dick too.” He related.

         “Mine wasn’t. His replacement was.” You sighed.

        “Mm. Merle — my brother — usually just ran away.”

         “From what?”

         “My dad.” He said quietly. 

         “Was your dad like my step-dad?” You asked.

         “Mm.” He nodded. 

         “What was his poison?”

          “Whiskey.” 

        “Oh. Mine liked meth.” You admitted. “Must be a stepdad thing.”

        “Nah.” He shook his head. “Just an asshole thing.” 

        “Sounds right.” You huffed a fry laugh. “Your daddy mark you up like me?”

        “Why?” 

        “How else would you know someone else did this to me?”

        “Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah.”

        “I’m sorry to hear it.” You sympathized the best you could.

        “Don’t matter. It’s in the past.”

        “Yeah, I tell myself that, too, but… It’s hard to leave the past where it belongs when you’re covered in reminders. Tryin’ to hide ‘em all the damn time.” 

        “Yeah.” He agreed. “Maybe they’re just there to remind us we survived.”

        You held onto his sentiments, toying with the phrase, spinning it around in your mind and locking it into memory.

         “One way to put it, I suppose.” 

        “It’s the only way to put it. Only way to move on.” He argued. You took the last drag off your smoke before tossing it. Your eyes caught his and stayed there for some time before you offered a soft smile. 

         “See ya around, Dixon.”