#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws))

[thepuckishrogue]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: What You Want, What You Need

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

|| ao3 version | f!reader | m!reader ||

|| javier m.list | rdr m.list | writing blog ||

↠ Requested By: The absolutely unreal levels of thirst I have for this man ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((is2g, if I see any minors interacting with my stuff it’s ~on sight~)) ↠ Chronology: In the here and now because it’s a Modern AU ↠ CWs/TWs: There a lot, but the biggest are mild exhibitionism, m!dom/sub dynamics, rough treatment/sex (Reader receiving), jealous Javier (but make it non-toxic), light choking (Reader receiving), and orgasm denial/control (Reader receiving). For a complete and more detailed listing see the note below the cut. And if I missed anything, please let me know!! ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 7.5k~

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

A Modern AU in which you take your teasing a little too far at a friend’s party. In return Javier will make sure that you get what you deserve before you get what you need.

He’s using papi SARCASTICALLY ffs lmao

‼ PLEASE NOTE THAT I AM NO LONGER POSTING NEW WORKS TO THIS ACCOUNT ‼

The only reason I’m putting the GN version on here is because it doesn’t make sense to break them up. If you want to keep up with my work, head over to my writing blog, linked above. ((that’s where the link for my rdr m.list will take you, btw))

Anyways! Sorry it took me so long to write this. I have no excuse aside from being lazy and not wanting to cringe my way through reading my old writing lol.

Also! I’m trying something new, as far as translations go. Instead of having them all at the top of the post, they’re now directly under the paragraph they appear in. Imo this makes for an easier read, but if it’s having the opposite effect let me know; if enough people are having problems with it I’ll go back to the old format.

((also, also—I’m naught but a basic ass English speaker and thusly all translations are still internet-sourced, so if they’re wrong please refrain from coming for me lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns || Reader has ambiguous anatomy || Reader is POC friendly || M!dom/sub dynamics (with Reader being a low-key bratty sub until they sweeten up) || public teasing, but make it ~sexy~ (Javi receiving) || fingering (Reader receiving) || orgasm denial (Reader receiving) || penetrative sex (Reader receiving) || rough treatment/sex (tho not overly so) || one SARCASTIC use of “daddy/papi” || lots of pet names (including that “good baby” type beat, Reader receiving) || Reader purposefully making Javi jealous (in a playful, non-toxic way lol) || Charles is an accomplice in the aforementioned foolishness (there’s an… implied understanding there*) || naturally that means there’s a certain level of exhibitionism but it’s all R-rated stuff || arm binding via a scarf (Reader receiving) || light choking (Reader receiving) || lots of praise (Reader receiving b/c that’s Javi’s jam) || voice kink stuff (goes both ways) || ((write that off to OP being a self-indulgent shit once again lol)) || orgasm control (Reader receiving)

*So basically after fucking around Reader finds out that Javi’s not one to be teased after he winds them up only to leave them wanting. Reader, wanting to get back at him for not finishing the job, utilizes one of their mutual friends (Charles) to stoke a little jealousy, but I swear it’s not as toxic as it sounds lmao. It’s less about actually making him jealous and more about fraying his ironclad sense of control by triggering his possessive streak… Which, okay, still sounds bad I suppose, but there’s being possessive and then there’s being possessive in a hella toxic way; Javi is the latter. What’s more it’s implied that the three of them have an understanding of sorts, so it’s all in good fun.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?” ((my love))

Yes, your body screams as his hand works against your center, the drag of his callouses creating a delicious friction with every pass over the hot, sodden flesh. Your hands grip at his shoulders, hard and nearly tight enough to bruise, as you grind up into his touch.

You know you must look thoroughly debauched right now—head thrown back to expose more of your neck to his care, lips slightly parted under pants and half-formed curses, skin flushed and sweat-slick, and eyelids weighed down by the weight of your lust—and that’s saying nothing of the state of your clothes. Items have been hastily tugged and rearranged to get the most needed parts exposed in the quickest amount of time possible. You clearly look like you’re in the process of being ravished, but Javier…

The man couldn’t be more put together if he tried.

There’s not a hair out of place, and despite the desperate hold you have on his shirt, the damn thing hasn’t even so much as wrinkled. The only sign that he’s even the least bit affected by all of this is the tent in his pants and the desire that darkens his gaze, but you suppose that’s to be expected. If he wasn’t so damnably good at keeping his composure you wouldn’t have bothered with doing the things that have led you to this moment.

An ‘accidental’ brush of your fingers against his crotch, whispered filth as you casually rested your weight against his back, the instant transformation of a simple spoon into something far more erotic once it passed your lips—nothing was off limits, not when you were so hell-bent on breaking him. It’s all consensual, this game the two of you play. Sometimes the teasing is mutual, other times it skews a bit more against one of you, but the end goal is always the same: to bring the other so close to the edge that they willingly hurl themselves over it.

Today’s party had been the perfect excuse to indulge in a bit of play, and your man had been all too willingly to serve himself up as prey. This, of course, was due to the fact that he was more than confident in his victory. The thrill of the challenge was the only thing that gave the get-together any allure; sure, Karen and Sean do hold the crown for best house parties in your friend group, but you’re not always sure that they’re worth the (usually hangover induced) headache.

You’d brought you’re A-game, starting with wearing an ensemble that you know he couldn’t resist. His mind had clearly gone blank when you first emerged from the bedroom, though he quickly rearranged his face into something cavalier before telling you to “–get your cute ass in the car so we can get gone.” Your fingers played along the inseam of his pants for the entire length of the ride, but aside from an initial arching of his brow he was annoyingly nonplussed. You had stepped things up considerably once you were inside, but despite essentially giving a plastic spoon a blowie (just out of view of an unsuspecting Arthur and Lenny) the man hadn’t done so much as smirk in your direction.

After a good twenty minutes got you nothing but an ache between your own thighs you finally gave up and decided to try to enjoy the party. With a cup of something mixed and fruity in hand you headed off to join your friends, but before you could make your way into the living room a familiar hand was curling itself around your arm and dragging you off in the opposite direction.

It just fucking figures that being ignored would be the back-breaking straw. You would’ve been mad at it if it wasn’t gonna result in yours getting blown out.

Neither of you said anything as Javier led your deeper into the house, not that there was much to say anyway. It was pretty damn obvious from the set of his jaw and the hunger in his eyes that you had won, and it could never be said that you weren’t a gracious winner …self-satisfied smirk notwithstanding.

His lips were on yours before the door had even fully shut behind you. You had laughed a bit at his eagerness, but the taunting sound soon morphed into a moan when your back slammed into the wall just beside the thing. Eyes smoldering and smile wicked, he groped at your clothed form in a way that had you writhing and grinding against him within seconds. It was only once you were a panting mess that he finally, finally bypassed the layers to touch you properly; hot and wet, proof of your arousal met his questing fingers, electing a groan that was nothing short of orgasmic. Things had moved quickly from there, and the rest…

“I said—‘is this what you wanted?’”

The words are growled against your ear, though the harsh pant of the breaths that follow travel downwards until he’s nipping at the corner of your jaw. A broken mewl pushes past your lips at its sting, and though the sound leaves him shuddering against you, it’s clearly not enough to sate him. His free hand connects with your ass in a resounding slap, one that while not overly hard is still enough weaken your knees considerably.

“Yes,” you groan out, the word catching in your throat as his thumb rubs a fresh pearl of precum over your sensitive flesh. “Fuck! Javi, yesss…”

Hot, bothered, and more than a little desperate you rut against his hand with hard little jerks. Your borderline frantic movements and needy little sounds leave him chuckling darkly as he works you over with practiced ease. His tone is condescending as hell as he pulls more and more out of you with lascivious words murmured in a husky timbre. He’s playing you like a goddamn fiddle, but you don’t care, can’t care—about this or anything else that’s not your impending release.

“Baby, I need, fuck, I need–”

“Shhh, I know.”

And you don’t know how he knows, just that somehow he always, impossibly does, and now is no exception. He descends to his knees with a smoothness that only repetition can bring, nudging your legs wider so that you’re more fully on display for him. He looks up at you then, wanting to make sure that you’re watching—as if you could ever be looking anywhere else. His eyes flicker with a familiar mischief as he runs the flat of his tongue over your heat and you damn near scream at the wet, warm trail it cuts.

“Careful now, cariño, you don’t want them to hear us– Oooo…” The word fades into a rolling chuckle when your hips give an involuntary thrust forward that has him amending his statement. “Or maybe you do? Mmmm… You like that, huh? You like the thought of them hearing what I do to you? Hmm, mi bebé travieso?” He all but purrs the last word as he presses a kiss to your quivering thigh before putting his mouth to work again. He alternates between gentle sucks and teasing flicks of his tongue against your most sensitive areas; meanwhile his fingers gather up a measure of your moisture before pushing inside of you to start up a lazy pace. This treatment lasts for a few glorious seconds only to come to a stop so abrupt that it leaves all of your muscles seizing up in confusion. ((sweetie || my naughty baby))

You know what he wants—an answer to a question, that if he were less petty, he wouldn’t expect a real reply to—just as you likewise know that he won’t start again until he gets it. And so you take a shaky approximation of a breath before managing to stutter out, “J-just… returning the favor.”

Laughing, he takes your meaning instantly. With as many times as you’ve been forced to listen to Karen and Sean go at it on various occasions, it does only seem fair. Of course, your reply is more copout than actual answer, but thankfully he lets it go. For now. You’ll definitely be talking about this again at some point in the future—probably later on tonight, actually—but for right now he’s content enough to go back to ruining you with his deft fingers and talented mouth.

You’ve always been fascinated by Javier’s hands. They’re slightly larger than what you would expect from a man his size, and yet somehow they don’t seem out of proportion to his body. They hold so much potential, both to create and to destroy—a point that is mirrored in the tattoos and scars that cover the dusk of his skin. You love to see them in motion, whether he’s doing something as mundane as tuning his guitar or something more perilous like playing with one of his many knives; the former is a particular point of fascination as you cannot help but to wonder if the skill transfers over to more carnal activities. The way his stroking thumb works in time with the bob of his fingers into your heat you’re inclined to say that yes, yes it does.

And his mouth…

Holy fuck, his mouth.

It doesn’t matter where it is he’s kissing you, having his lips pressed against your skin is always enough to leave you weak. Warm and pillow soft, they glide over you leaving a feverish trail of desire in their wake. Calloused fingers continue to work you open, adding to your pleasure in a way that sees your voice scaling higher, louder, as any lingering worries about being overheard are vaulted clean out of your head.

In this moment his only goal is to see you coming undone, and under Javier’s touch you’re a rapidly fraying thread. He’s loving every minute of this, you know he is, but—“If you can’t keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet, amor, I know my cock can.”

“Oh my god.”

The throb your core gives is almost painful in its intensity as you imagine having him face fuck you until tears are spilling past the corners of your eyes before bending you over and absolutely ruining you, and you have to wonder just what this man has done to you. You were never this damn kinky before—or maybe you’ve always been a closet freak—either way since getting with Javi you have been turned completely out, and you’re not even mad about it, honestly. What you can do without, however, is his smug little laugh. Like yeah, he totally has a right to it, wrecking you the way he is, but still. Any saltiness you feel is quickly forgotten as the spooled pleasure in your stomach wrings itself tighter. Your bodies work in tandem creating the perfect rhythm, so fucking perfect, and you’re so fucking close, just a little more and then—and then he’s pulling away?

What?

“Nooo! Javier, why–”

“Orgasms are for good little loves,” he tells you simply as he rises back to his full height.

“You cannot be serious right now.”

But looking at him you know he is. Honestly you should’ve been expecting something like this—you had been teasing him for nearly twenty minutes before this all began—but you’d thought that your punishment was going to come in the form of him gagging you with his dick before fucking you until you screamed. But this… Well this is the other side of the coin that you’d forgotten to consider. Yes, he’s hard and yes, he wants this just as badly as you, but Javier’s more than willing to deny his own needs if it means winning this little game of yours. He’s petty like that, and what’s more he has the will to see it through.

Well fine then, you think with a pouty twist of your lips. If he wants to be that way I’ll just finish myself off and–

Fingers close tightly around your wrist before you can properly touch yourself. “What did I just say, bebé?” ((baby))

“And who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do to and with my own body?” you ask with an arch of your brow. The bite of your words would be more effective, you’re sure, if they weren’t so damn breathy, but there’s little for that.

“Oh, mi amor,” he starts with a chuckle as he pins your hand to the wall beside your head, “you know exactly who I am.” He kisses you then, long and deep, and you find yourself melting under it despite your annoyance.

Damn this man and his silver everything! The thought drags its way through your sex-addled brain as your free hand twists itself in his shirt, though whether the action will lead to you pushing him away or pulling him closer you’re not sure yet, and before you can decide he’s breaking the kiss.

“Get dressed, cariño, we’ve got a party to get back to,” he breathes against your lips before pecking at them again.

“You can at least let me err, calm down some and clean myself up a bit–”

He shakes his head as he pulls away from you. “No, I don’t think so. I want you just like this, baby—all leaky and throbbing and wanting. I want you aching just as much as I am. It’s only fair, after all.”

Eyeing the bulge that’s seriously testing the tensile strength of his zipper you’re inclined to agree, reluctantly though it may be done. After all you are the one that kicked things off. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that you’re left to live with the consequences? Yeah, not so much. Fair’s fair, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Pouting all the while, you quickly set yourself back to rights—well mostly. Thanks to the hasty tugging of your prior urgency your clothes aren’t hanging like they’re supposed to and won’t be again until they’ve been washed and re-ironed, but there’s nothing to be done about that in the now.

You’re left to silently lament the fact that you’re about to take a mini walk of shame that hasn’t been entirely earned since you didn’t actually get any. Cutting your eyes over at the reason you’re in such a state you find that, aside from his very obvious arousal, the fucker looks as put together as ever.

“You suck, you know that?”

He snorts as he snakes an arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. “Yeah, I do. I also lick and nip and tease and you love it.”

“Oh fuck you, Escuella.”

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

“Promises, promises,” you snark back, though there’s no denying the longing seated in your words.

His only reply is a dark little chuckle that leaves you throbbing with want and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. What’s worse is that you’re about to walk through a party full of all of your friends, and while it’s not the first time they’ve seen you flustered and frazzled like this the situation is still less than ideal. Thankfully the thought of having winks and suggestive comments tossed your way is enough to kill off any lingering lust, but this is going to be a long night either way—or is it?

A plan starts to come together in your mind as you hear Charles’s laughter floating in though the backdoor; he rarely ever laughs loud enough for it to be heard so far away, so you can only imagine what’s been said or done to garner such a reaction. Though his mirth usually runs on the quieter side of things, the man does have a mischievous streak that can almost rival Sean’s, and it’s only common sense and general kindness that keeps him from tapping into it more.

Tonight, however, he’s going to step outside of his self-imposed restrictions—you’ll make sure of it.

After all, your plan relies on it.

“What’s got you laughing so hard, Chuck?”

Charles doesn’t even bother with correcting you as he knows that you’re already well aware of how much he despises that nickname. You’re just looking to get a rise out of him, but unlike your boyfriend, he’s not so easily bated. Though to be fair to Javier, it did take you a good twenty or so minutes to finally break him—maybe more as whatever game it is you two are playing more than like started long before your arrival–

And is set to carry on for a while longer, if the state of them is anything to go by.

He’s hardly surprised to find that the pair of you are looking more disheveled than last you were seen. While Javier’s only slightly mussed, it’s more than obvious that you’ve been taken through your paces. There’s a wrinkle in your clothes that hadn’t been there before and your lips are plush in a way that says you’ve been kissed thoroughly and with a level of enthusiasm that would have left you moaning into the ministration as you grinded into your lover’s palm with needy little ruts of your hips…

He quickly averts his eyes as soon as the thought manifests lest you pick up on the way you’re affecting him—have always affected him, if he’s being honest. And it’s not just you. Javier is dangerously alluring in his own right, and he finds himself falling into his orbit more often than not. He’s never allowed himself to explore whatever it is he feels for either of you as you and Javier have always been a thing, though there’s no point in denying that there’s an attraction there, and a mutual one at that. Javier’s always been the more flirtatious out of the two of you, but when you have a mind to you can fluster him like nobody else. None of you have ever seemed truly interested in taking things beyond that level—yet.

Charles cannot help but to feel that one of these days there’s going to be a shift. The signs are all there, after all; the way you all gravitate towards one another, trading lingering touches and longing looks. Things that he would usually consider an invasion are much welcomed advances when they’re coming from the pair of you and he often finds himself reciprocating without any conscious thought. It’s all so confusing and thrilling and catalyzing that he cannot help but to crave more. Arthur has told him on several occasions to bite the bullet and make a move, but given that he’s dealing with an established couple he’s more than willing to follow your lead on this one.

In the now he gives you a response in the form of a nod towards one of the party’s hosts. Sean is just now scrambling his way back onto the deck (quite literally as he’s opted to climb over the railing instead of using the stairs like a normal person) after an overly-dramatic retelling of one of his more daring exploits had sent him tumbling off of it. Luckily for him the fall was a short one into relatively soft grass, so really it’s only his pride that’s been bruised. Seeing that his audience has increased by two he starts his story from the beginning and the pair of you listen with rapt attention–

Or, rather Javier does. You, however…

It starts out innocently enough, with you slumping against him and resting most of your weight against his shoulder. Charles contemplates draping an arm around you—it wouldn’t be odd of him as it’s a position that you’ve been in countless times before, but he doesn’t want to presume—but before he can think himself into a circle you’re snaking your arm around his waist. Your hold isn’t particularly tight, only really pressing in enough to keep you connected. After a few seconds you start to feather your fingers up and down his side in a move that he would’ve considered innocent if not for the wicked little smile on your face. There and gone in a flash, he finds himself looking at you more fully to be sure of what he saw; all he receives for his troubles, however, is a playful wink that leaves him batting down a burst of nerves.

It seems as if he’s unwittingly become a participant in whatever it is the pair of you have going on. He’s surprised, but he can’t say he’s opposed.

Steeling himself with a sigh, he finally allows his arm to drape across the breadth of your shoulders. The movement catches Javier’s eye from where he stands on Charles’ other side, as does the continued skittering of your hand. His expression as he takes this all in changes by degrees as he assesses you both separately; when looking at you there’s a knowing tint to his gaze that’s clouded with a banked lust, though when his eyes meet the taller man’s stare that knowingness sharpens into appraisal. Had the desire there dissipated Charles would have backed off immediately, but thankfully that isn’t the case. Javier gives you both a smirk that leaves Charles flushing in a way that gives him one more reason to love the dusk of his skin.

It’s apparent that Javier’s happy to let the two of you play, so Charles is content enough to let you do as you will. Your hands move higher and higher with each pass over the waffle-knit of his top until clever fingers are dancing up the back of his neck to gently tangle themselves in his nape. Nails scrape upwards into the loose wave of his hair in a move that nearly has him moaning out loud. He’s just able to bite down on the sound, but there’s nothing to be done for the way the rest of his body betrays him with a shiver. Having his hair played with has always been a weakness of his, but one that not many know of thanks to the boundaries that he’s set in place. The number of people who can say they’ve had the pleasure of obtaining this knowledge are few, and those who’ve gotten such a visceral reaction out of him because of it are fewer still.

Sounds seem to fade away as you continue to lull him with your ministrations, with not even the combined drunken yelling of Sean and Lenny’s conveyed anecdote being enough to pull him out of the stupor. He allows his mind to wander as you work; the images that flash through his head are ones that he usually reserves for hours far later than this one, when he’s alone with an ache between his legs that cannot be abated by anything but imaginings of the only two people who could reduce him to such a base state. His grip on you tightens unconsciously, forcing you more firmly against his chest and you’re quick you mold yourself against him.

Your pace is languid as you work him over with the repetitious scrape. It feels like he’s under the sweetness of your care for a small eternity, and he’s more than happy to stay lost for another eternity still, so when your fingers curl and tighten against his locks and tug there’s really no way for him to stop himself from crying out. Luckily the story has finally reached its end to a cacophony of laughter that’s just loud enough to drown out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a yelp of surprise and a moan. Thankfully everyone’s too drunk and-or preoccupied to notice the way his chest heaves and his eyes darken as he looks at you through heavy lids–

Well, everyone except for Javier. He’d honestly forgotten that the other man’s still here—that anyone’s here, really—but now his presence encompasses all of Charles’ attention.

“Alright, amor, you’ve had your fun,” he tells his partner. His tone speaks of mild amusement, though there is a sliver of something there—something dark and wanting, ravenously so—that leaves their breath hitching. To Charles, “It wasn’t very nice of them, starting something they know they can’t finish– Not tonight, at least. But don’t worry, ‘mano—next time, we got you.”

The words feel like they’re caught somewhere between a promise and a threat, but Charles finds that that only adds to their appeal. The pair of you say your goodbyes then, first to him and then to the group at large. A chorus of wolf-whistles and teases are given in response, with everyone having a pretty good idea of why you’re cutting out early, but if they suspect his role in things they’re kind enough not to mention it.

As Charles watches your retreating forms he runs a shaky hand through the length of his hair only to find that the motion doesn’t bring him the stability that it usually does. How can it, when he can still feel your phantom touch, the exquisite bite of your nails against the sensitive skin of his scalp…

These memories will continue haunt him, he’s sure—unable to be exorcised in full until he’s lying sweat-slicked and sated between two equally worn-out bodies.

“Is this what you wanted, mi amor?”

Javier’s thrusts can only be described as punishing, more so due to depth and force than speed. Your body jolts forwards with every snap of his hips, but the firm hold he has on the scarf that binds your arms keeps you from going too far—not that you want to be anywhere else but here, completely laid bare and at the mercy of the man at your back. The word ‘mercy’ used very loosely here as he is being absolutely ruthless and you’re loving every second of it.

Face down and ass up, he’s had you bent over the desk from nearly the moment you stepped into your bedroom, only stopping long enough to tie your arms behind your back. In all honesty you’re pretty sure this is the true reason he pushed so hard for its inclusion in the room—there’s definitely more appropriate spaces for it—but whatever. It’s not like you can complain when it gets such frequent use.

So yes, this exactly what you want, what you need…

“I asked you a question, baby, and I expect an answer,” he continues on in a low, demanding tone.

You try to reply, you swear you do, but whatever it is you manage to slur out between moans isn’t an adequate enough reply. Javier’s voice drops to something just above a true whisper as he leans more fully against you—close enough that you swear you can feel the beat of his heart against your back, close enough to feel the pant of his breath ghosting over your skin—with the sinuous roll of his hips slowing further.

“Forgot how to use your words already?” he tsks against the shell of your ear. “That’s okay, cariño. I know you wanna be good for me, so I’m gonna help you out…” Taking your confused sounding whimper for the question it is he chuckles before saying, “How? It’s easy—Imma fuck the answer out of you.” ((sweetie))

Before you can fully process his words he’s unwinding his hand from the cloth, pulling back, and pounding into you quick and hard. The feeling has you gasping out his name followed by a babbled yes-yes-YES that leaves him growling out his approval. He calls you his good baby then and the small bit of praise makes your brain fizz as your body reacts on instinct. Eager hips throw themselves back to meet his thrusts; though your positioning doesn’t really allow for much traction your efforts do earn you a few moans and curses of approval, at least.

“Mierda. Look at you. You like being fucked hard, huh? Like me taking you like this?” The words are little more than a rumble with how low his voice has dropped, and the change in timbre leaves you clenching up around him more. “Fuuck babe—that’s it, that’s– Fuck. Yeah, you love this shit. That why you were being such a little tease, yeah? Did you want me to fuck you ‘til you remember who you belong to?” ((shit))

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer this time, choosing instead to take your jaw in hand. His grip is just this side of bruising and well at odds with the gentle way his thumb strokes over your bottom lip. Your tongue snakes out mindlessly to flick at its calloused pad and you hum at the slightly salty taste of his skin. Javier hisses out a curse as you continue to lave over the digit, and you can practically feel his narrow-eyed stare from where it’s sure to be drilling into the back of your skull. Unwilling to relinquish even the least bit of control just yet, his palm slides downwards until it’s resting firmly against your neck. Long fingers easily encase the column, and while he doesn’t squeeze nearly as hard as he had been before there is a definite and steady pressure there. You know he’d sooner hurt himself before he would ever risk truly hurting you, but there’s still something undeniably alluring about feeling like you’re on the edge of something so dark and dangerous.

Your moan is slightly strangled as you lean more heavily into his hand, with your hole clenching especially hard as the oxygen vacates your lungs. In turn Javi grunts at the sensation even as his fingers squeeze just that little bit tighter, and in that moment you’re sure that a death of a different kind is close at hand. Spanish is falling from his lips much faster than your addled mind can ever hope to translate, but when he does finally switch back over to English he’s hardly saying anything you want to hear.

“What?” He gives a particularly hard thrust as you croak out the word, leaving you to damn near choke on it.

“You heard me, amor—don’t. You. Cum. After the shit you pulled tonight did you honestly think I was gonna let you cum so easily?”

Your replying whine is pitiful indeed, not that you actually expect to receive any sort of reprieve at this point. Still, that doesn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder and giving him your best pout. For his part your man mimics your expression, giving your neck a few soothing strokes before allowing his lips to pull off into a devious little smirk.

“Aww, look at you. There’s no need for all that, baby, I’m gonna give you what you want—not that you’ve actually earned it, not yet. You’ve been especially bratty lately; playing all these games, teasing me… I can’t just let that shit slide, so here’s how this is going to work: I’m gonna keep fuckin’ you good ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep, and you’re gonna take it for as long as I say. When I decide that you’ve learned your lesson I’ll let you cum, and if you go over the edge before then there will be consequences.”

And you know he’s as good as his word.

Despite him saying all of this between pants, sharp curses, and a few breathy moans there’s no way in hell you actually stand a chance of outlasting him. Even if his stamina wasn’t god-tier and his will just as solid, pure pettiness would see him holding out if it meant keeping you on the edge. And as for those ‘consequences’, you cannot even begin to guess at what they may be, but a part of you really, really wants to find out. You’re positive you’ll enjoy it—maybe not as much as him, but you’ll still have your fun.

Before you can make up your mind about whether or not your defiance would be worth it, his hand is leaving your neck to hold your hip steady. You gasp slightly, already lamenting the loss of pressure, only to have the breath knocked out of you by his next thrust. The force of it sends you reeling, with the only thing keeping you from face-planting being the hold your man has on you. Instead your sweat-slicked body is shoved further up the desk in a move that would’ve been extremely uncomfortable if you weren’t already so gone.

Wanting a bit more agency, Javi grabs up the length of cloth that dangles between you; his movements do not falter as he shores up his grip with a few twisting motions before pushing into you again and again and again. He sets up a brutal pace that sees his hip bones digging into the plush of your ass and his balls slapping against you with every forward push. This is the only bit of attention that anything other than your hole has received since leaving the party and you damn near sob at the brief flashes of stimulation.

You’re not even sure what nonsense is pouring out of your mouth at this point, but if it’s anything like the disjointed garble that’s currently floating around in your skull then it’s one flaming wreck of a mess. You can hardly go by Javier’s reaction as you’re pretty sure that you could be singing lullabies and he’d still be into it. He just loves to hear you—it doesn’t particularly matter what sounds you’re making so long as he knows they’re a result of the pleasure he’s bring you. You’re much the same honestly, though listening to him turn the velvety syllables of his native tongue into growls and groans in the heat of his passion is its own type of torture. His voice is already an aphrodisiac in its own right, but when he’s fallen as deeply into his lust as he has into you it becomes something otherworldly.

Your man’s words slowly begin to shift from admonishments for your earlier behavior into praise for “–taking your cock like un buen pequeño amor,” and you can only hope that means you’ll get what you need sooner rather than later. ((a good little love))

Time stops making sense as he continues to take you. You’re both hyperaware of its passage and not, with seconds impossibly feeling like hours, but the minutes they bleed into hardly even registers. Your need for release becomes this all-encompassing thing that dictates your every move, breath, and thought. It creates a thrumming want that invades all of your senses until there’s nothing outside of it. Even Javi’s voice becomes little more than a cluster of sounds that you’re just barely able to perceive, though one phrase breaks through the haze every time he says it:

“Don’t you cum, cariño.”

His words are both boon and bane.

They’re the only bit of sense to be found in the symphony of needy sounds and hammering hearts and the repetitive meeting of flesh, and yet at the same time they are the very chains that hold you back from the one thing you need most. Your body is demanding, screaming, begging for this to end one way or another, and soon. You’re sure that each new thrust will bring about your end, and yet you hold yourself back even as your legs shake from exertion and your arms ache from the strain. Those four words will not allow you to do any less.

When the tension in your arms lessens you honestly think the limbs have finally gone numb, but then you’re being pulled up against Javier’s hard chest and you realize he actually let go of the scarf. The jarring pace he’d been keeping up slows to a gentle roll that makes you grind into him with a desperate whimper before he stills his hips altogether. His lack of movement has you rutting against him like some crazed beast, but the only thing this nets you is a throaty chuckle that makes you throb all the more.

“Tan ansioso,” he breathes against your ear as well-toned arms pin you flush against an equally muscled chest. This leaves you unable to do anything more than whine, much to your annoyance and his continued amusement. “You really want to cum, don’t you?” ((so eager))

“Fuck! Javi, you know I do–”

“Then say the word, mi corazón.” ((sweetheart))

“Please.”

“‘Please’, what?”

“Please let me cum.”

The moan he lets out at your words comes from somewhere deep in his gut making you shiver with your want. The only thing better than hearing him make such deliciously wicked sounds is knowing that you’re their cause. He’s always so quick to tell you that he’s the only one that can make you feel the way that you do—and it’s true, he definitely gotten you addicted to his particular brand of carnality, but it’s fine since you know it goes both ways.

Javier presses a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your nape before nipping the skin there. “So good,” he purrs as his left hand snakes up to rub at your steadily leaking core. “Un bebé tan bueno para mí.” ((such a good baby for me))

His hand passes through the mess, smearing your arousal further until he’s zeroing in on your most sensitive area; all the while your hips wiggle against him in a desperate bid to rut into his palm properly. Unfortunately the movement does little for either of you aside from frustrating you further.

“There you go, teasing me again.”

“‘M not trying to,” you tell him, “just wanna feel good—wanna make us both feel good…”

Your trailing sigh turns into a moan when he thrust against you again. The movement is spastic, an involuntary response to the way that your walls flutter around him. He swears lowly before releasing you completely and pulling out; the sensation of his thick cock leaving you is good for all of two seconds before you realize that he’s not pushing back into you. For one panicked moment you think that he’s going to leave you tied up and aching, but before you can even form the first syllable of your plea he’s freeing your arms and turning you to face him. It’s the first time you’ve gotten a clear look at him since being bent over the desk and you’re pleased to find that he looks just as much of a mess as you do. Hair mussed, lips parted ever so enticingly, cheeks flushed, and dewy skin glistening so prettily under the warm-hued lights—he’s sex personified in this moment and the sight somehow makes you burn for him all the more.

Javier is drinking you in just as readily, being, as always, especially taken with your mouth. Heavily lidded eyes track your lips movements as you wet them, and when you bite into the plush skin he lets out a shuddering breath. A muttered “Fuck” is all the warning you get before his lips are crashing into yours while hands eagerly grip at your hips to pull you flush to him. The heat of his cock is like a firebrand between you, and the press of it against your skin has you instinctively writhing against it.

Your movements leave him shivering as he exhales harshly—the first sign that his self-control is starting to slip.

“Get on the bed, mi amor—wanna look in your eyes while I fuck you, wanna see you fall apart…” He breathes the words against your lips before taking the bottom one between his teeth just as you had a moment ago. The sting of his bite is soothed away by a swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing you again.

Somehow he has enough presence of mind to get you both moving and soon you feel something solid, yet yielding hitting the back of your legs. You’re just wobbly enough for the disturbance to take you off of your feet and Javier readily follows you down. So close to the one thing you both want, need, the kisses grow sloppier and more hurried. It takes a few moments for you both to get into a more settled position, but as soon as you do he’s lubing up again before pushing into you completely with one long stroke.

Your breath catches at the feeling of being full once again while he lets out a sound that’s half contented sigh, half growl, with the latter completely overtaking the former when you roll your hips up to meet his. The pace he sets is far less grueling than it had been when he was taking you from behind, but it’s no less maddening for the change. Long, deep strokes end with a languid snap that has him hitting something inside of you that leaves you damn near sobbing every time. It doesn’t take long for you to get back to that same level of torturous pleasure that you’d been drowning in minutes before and soon you’re clawing at his back and calling out his name like it’s the only word left in your lexicon.

All the while your eyes are locked with one another’s, mostly at his insistence. When he said that he wanted to see you fall apart he meant it; a firm hand against the side of your face keeps you from turning away while tutting words part your lids whenever they flutter shut for longer than a few seconds.

“You’re doing so well, mi amor, so good,” he tells you. His words are slightly slurred and you know he’s just as drunk on you as you are on him. The thought leaves your walls clenching and he hisses at the added tightness. His pace quickens as he drops his head down into the space between your shoulder and your neck. Kisses, nips, and sucks carve a path upwards until the warmth of his breath is ghosting over your ear. “Touch yourself for me.”

It’s an order that you’re all too happy to follow.

Your fingers quickly move down to work against your sloppy sex and you can only hope that the whole ‘no cumming until I say so’ thing is no longer in effect because if not you are in so much trouble. With everything going on you’re only gonna be able to last about a literal minute and that’s being hella generous and rounding way up, honestly. Javier knows this, knows you and your body damn near better than you do some days. He sees it in the way your eyes glint with desperation, can feel it in the way your whole body tenses just so, can hear it in the pant of breaths that come quicker, shallow. Part of you worries that he’ll drag things out just to punish you further—or worse yet, leave you wound up and wanting—but a bigger part of you knows he’s not that cruel. Javier always makes sure to give you what you need and right now you need to cum, badly, and so does he if the fevered look in his eyes is anything to go by.

“Yes, babe, yes. Just like that, fuck me back—Joder! Tan buena…” His muttered praises become more and more scattered as his hips begin to meet yours faster and faster until— ((fuck! so good))

“Do it for me, mi amor. Cum.”

Your body doesn’t hesitate to follow the simple command, and the orgasm that rocks your frame is almost blinding in its intensity. A wordless cry rips itself from your throat as bliss—white-hot and all-consuming—skitters across your every nerve setting them alight. All the while you hold on to the man that still hovers above you as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this plane, and for all you know he is. After all, you’re pretty sure that one cannot experience something so world-shattering as this and not ascend to some higher form of consciousness, if only for a moment.

For his part, Javier shudders and bucks his way through his own release just as you’re coming to the end of yours. Your nails follow the length of his spine as you watch him fall apart—eyes pinched shut, chest heaving, lips parted under hard pants—he rarely looks more beautiful than when he’s cumming and the sight is one that you’re positive you’ll never get tired of seeing.

Kisses are traded between shaky breaths as you both work your way through the last of the aftershocks. They’re sweet, lingering things that are seemingly at odds with everything that preceded them—only not really as he’s always like this once your games have come to their end. All loved up, he likes to keep you close so that he can dote on you as much as you’ll allow him to. Feeling safe, warm, and sated, gentle strokes of his hands against your cooling flesh and murmured declarations of love are the lullaby that sees you drifting off into slumber.

© thepuckishrogue/TheViperQueen, 2019-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #here comes the fiiiiic~ lol #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x gn!reader #javier escuella x gender neutral reader #javier escuella x you #javier escuella x y/n

[notepadsandtealeaves]

‼ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT FOLLOW WILL BE BLOCKED ‼

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

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

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

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

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

type: sweet lil love letters

rating: sfw fluff

cws/tws: none

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

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

paring: reader x all of the gang’s ladies

type: sweet lil love letters

rating: sfw fluff

cws/tws: none

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

nsfw abcs || javier escuella

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

type: hcs with accompanying ficlets/one-shots

rating: nsfw, obviously

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

↠ links: tumblr ❣ || ao3

relationship abcs || men-folk edition

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

type: long form hcs

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

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

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

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

pairing: javier escuella x reader

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

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

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

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

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

↠ links: tumblr || ao3

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

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

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

rating: nsfw

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

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

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

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

he’s using papi SARCASTICALLY ffs lmao

↠ links: f!reader || tumblr ❣ | ao3

↠ gn!reader || tumblr ❣ | ao3

↠ m!reader || tumblr ❣ | ao3

© thepuckishrogue/notepadsandtealeaves, 2019-2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #my masterlists

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: (Home is) Wherever I’m With You

Reader Requests || Immy’s 200 Follower Event 🎊 🎉 🎊

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

|| ao3 version | event tag | rdr tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: @team-baku-is-blasting-off-again ((for my 200 Follower Event)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: Angst-y H/C vibes that get NSFW at the end ((minors kindly fuck off, pls and thank)) ↠ CWs/TWs: Javier’s being over-protective like to a very uncool degree, as well as insecure in himself/his relationship with Reader. Likewise Reader has their own baggage/insecurities that don’t help matters at all. It all gets worked on and rectified by the story’s end, but feelings are indeed Hurt. ↠ Check below the cut for a more comprehensive list of tags. ↠ No betas—we die like damn near everyone you’ve ever dared to love in this damned series lol. ↠ Total WC: 14k~ ((my b, my uhh, my hand slipped??))

↠ Prompts:

“I’ll never be good enough.”

“Tell me to stop, tell me or I won’t be able to.” / “Then don’t.”

“No.”

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor…”

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

In which OP not-so-subtly simps for Arthur in the background lol. Let me love you, Mister Morgan, pls 😭

Sorry for the wait, dear requester. Between non-fun adult type stuff and my need to reboot in between fills this took far longer to write than what either of us wanted lol. Doesn’t help that there’s angst involved (which always induces a certain amount of metal strain); add to that the fact that three out of the four fills I got for this event were angst-y H/C type deals and you get an even slower turn around.

But anyways!

This is long—way longer than anything I intended on writing for this event, but tbh this is a work I already had partially done. It’s a short story that’s been hanging around in my drafts since January of 2019 (yeah, I know -_-), but despite how long it’s been since last I touched it, reading the prompts put me in mind of it right away. Here’s to hoping it was worth the wait!

Translations ((As always, if any of the Spanish in this is wrong feel free to take it up with Google Translate lol)):

No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien—No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine

Mi amor—My love

Joder—Fuck

Dios, soy un jodido idiota—God, I’m a fucking idiot

Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno—I’ll never be good enough

Mi corazon—My Sweetheart

Cariño—Sweetie

Siempre me tomas tan bien—You always take me so good

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

“So are you in or out?” Arthur asks as he reaches the end of his spiel.

The stagecoach robbery seems straight forward enough, but given the fact that everything the gang has put its collective hand to since the infamous Riverboat Incident back in Blackwater has gone tits up he knows you have a right to be wary. And you are, just a touch, though you hate to admit it. This string of bad luck has been hard on everyone and many bear the scars—both inside and out—to prove it, yourself included.

But you trust Arthur and you know that if this is a job he’s sniffed out himself that it’s probably solid; the fact that Charles and Lenny will also be tagging along means that the chances of success are just that much higher. The three of them usually make wise enough choices, last month’s misadventures in Valentine’s bar notwithstanding. You quickly agree before you can think better of it, and the smile that it pulls from the bearded man makes the potential risks more than worth it.

It had taken Arthur a bit to warm up to you when you’d first joined the gang, but once he did the pair of you fell into a close-knit, sibling-type relationship. A few people around camp—namely Sean, Bill, and damn near all the girls—had insisted that there had to be something more there in the time since, and it was only once you and Javier became an item that the rumors were (mostly) put to rest. The close nature of your relationship was actually the reason that it took Javi so long to ask you out. He’d been thoroughly convinced by the others that you and Arthur were sneaking around behind the gang’s collective back, and it wasn’t until you explained to him that firstly, you were adults who wouldn’t have to stoop to such a juvenile level, and secondly that you’d adored him from nearly the moment you’d met that he finally got past that foolishness.

Though it was annoying at the time you can’t say that you blame anyone for thinking you and your best friend had something going. Despite all his posturing to the contrary, Arthur Morgan is and always will be a far better man than what your lifestyle allows for, and a damned handsome one to boot, and well, you ain’t too bad yourself. You complement each other in a way that just seems ‘right’, apparently, but even if Javi hadn’t come into the picture your relationship’s always been destined to be a platonic one.

Arthur’s hurts are old things that run deep and jagged, tainting his perception of everything—himself especially. Both life and love have never looked on him kindly, and so he’s stopped expecting to receive the latter. Of course this has never stopped you from extending the sentiment to him after a fashion, but years passed and experiences gained have taught you that trying to force feelings when they just aren’t there will only ever end in heartbreak. Because of this you’ve never pushed for anything more and the pair of you are all the closer for it. Having him in your life has definitely made it fuller in so many ways, and it’s a blessing that you’re always striving to return, so whenever you get him to smiling like this you always feel as if you’re one step closer to your goal.

“Great,” he drawls, pushing off of his knees as he rises from the milk crate-turned-chair. “We ride out at the end of the hour so be ready. And make sure your gun’s actually loaded this time.”

His comment earns a few snickers from the others that share the space with you, though most of them quiet down when they feel the weight of your stare. The only one who doesn’t is Tilly, but then again the woman knows that you’d sooner kick a dog before ever doing anything more scathing to her than glaring.

“Wasn’t. My. Fault,” you grit out as you chuck an abandoned tobacco tin at his back.

A drunken prank compliments of Sean had led to a mildly embarrassing incident involving a bet and some bottle shooting, and nearly a year later you’ve still yet to live it down. Though he teases you about it now, Arthur had nearly taken the Irishman’s head off at the time; had the blond not challenged you, you could’ve easily found yourself unknowingly unarmed in a situation far more dire than a simple test of skill.

For his part the man just chuckles as he tosses a sarcastic “Sure” over his shoulder.

“Jerk,” you mutter, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“Want me to kick his ass?”

Had the voice not been so familiar you might’ve been startled by its sudden nearness, but the dulcet cadence is one that you know better than even your own. Unfortunately you’ve not been hearing it nearly as often as you’d like these past few days. Between duties to the camp and following leads in town, you and your man haven’t occupied the same space for any extended amount of time outside of sleeping together—done in the most literal sense, sadly—and even that’s been choppy as a you’d both been assigned guard shifts that made your overlap damn near nonexistent.

Javi’s just finished one such shift and it shows. His usually warm eyes are dull with fatigue and his posture’s a bit stiff from the strain that comes with making rounds of the area for the better part of the last several hours, but despite it all he’s just as handsome as ever and your pulse quickens as it always does whenever he’s near.

“Mmm, maybe later,” you say with half a laugh as he plops down on the log next to you. Depending on how this job goes down you just might take him up on that offer—if the law doesn’t beat you to it, that is.

For his part the man just snorts before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. He wraps his arms around you then and hoists you over into his lap, heedless of the scalding contents of your tin mug. A few moments of careful shuffling—and an unnecessary amount of cooing from Tilly and Sean—later sees you comfortable in your new seat. Javier had told you once that holding you like this feels like home, and sitting here with his head resting heavily against your shoulder and his hum of contentment warm against your ear, the statement rings especially true. Your free hand smooths over the pair of his where they rest against your thighs in a loose clasp, your fingers mapping out the ever increasing expanse of nicks and scars that mar the skin there; one scab feels especially fresh under your touch and you know that it’s compliments of yet another five-finger match, though who his opponent was you couldn’t say.

“You want something to eat, Javier?” Tilly asks from where she sits next to you—or rather next to your previous spot. Her thin, nimble fingers are making quick work of the trousers she’s mending with a level of skill that could put many-a seamstresses to shame.

“No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien.” (No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine.)

The young woman giggles at that. “Poor thing. You must really be tired because I didn’t understand half of what you just said. Sure sounded pretty though.”

“It always does,” you agree. Hearing Javi speak in his native language is truly a thing of beauty and, in your opinion, there isn’t much out there that can rival it.

He chuckles a bit at that, but makes no further comment. When you ask if he’d like a cup of coffee or even a sip of your own he turns this down too. “I’ll eat before I go to sleep,” he promises before you can get on him about looking after himself. “I just want to stay like this for a bit, mi amor. I’ve been missin’ you.”

His words leave your heart aching in the best of ways, but before you can reply a commanding bellow of “Miss Jones!” rings out across the camp. To Javier’s credit he doesn’t jump like the rest of you, but this is probably due him being far too tired to react in time. Everyone, from Dutch on down to Kieran, respects—and in some cases, fears—Ms. Grimshaw, and with good reason. The woman’s mouth can put any military official to shame, and her right hook is the stuff of legends. Anything with even the smallest amount of self-preservation knows not to get in her way when she’s scented her prey; the way the material of her skirt flutters out and away from her as if attempting to not further impeded her stride only serves to punctuate this point.

“Why ain’t you helpin’ out Mister Pearson?” she continues on as she comes to stand directly in front of the woman in question. “You’re not a goddamn workin’ girl, we don’t pay you to sit around on that ass of yours an’ look pretty.”

The blonde snorts loudly into her mug. “You don’t pay me at all.”

“Oh, love—no.” Sean’s plea is little more than a breath from where he sits beside her. Reckless though the young man may be, even he knows that there are some fights you just don’t pick.

“That girl’s really gotta learn when to keep her fool mouth shut,” Tilly comments under her breath.

“Is she drunk?” Javi asks. “‘Cause she sounds drunk. And it’s not even eight yet.”

You shrug as much as your position will allow. “I haven’t seen her drinkin’ anything other than coffee, but that don’t mean nothin’. She was goin’ at it pretty hard last night, though—she could still be drunk from yesterday.”

As the three of you converse the other two women continue to go back and forth, with volume and tempers both steadily rising all the while. Ms. Grimshaw might be a pill, but she’s a fair and caring woman in her own way. She never assigns anyone more than their due, and is always willing to work with anybody that’s suffering from an illness or injury severe enough to keep them from performing their duties properly. So long as a person’s able to provide for the camp in some major way—be that via money, labor, or acquiring much needed provisions—she generally leaves them alone.

Unfortunately for Karen she’s been bringing very little to the table as of late, well besides that lead on Valentine’s bank. Despite the fact that she’d pitched it well over a week ago she’s quick to bring it back up yet again for what little good it’ll do her. Even if Dutch does okay the job it’ll still take at least another couple of weeks of reconnaissance and planning before he’ll even think of making a move on the place which means that the blonde’s “–got one iron in the fire, but no damn legs to stand on”, as the older woman puts it.

“Well they’re not workin’!” Karen yells lamely, gesturing towards where you’re currently all hugged up with your boyfriend.

“That’s because I’m getting ready for a job!” you quickly call out. The last thing you want or need is one of Susan’s lectures on ‘pulling your own damn weight.’

“Sure don’t look it,” she shoots back in yet another blatant attempt to get the attention off of her. “Not unless you’re chargin’ your man by the hour these days.”

Her words leave Javier quaking with near silent laughter and he earns a sharp elbow to the ribs for his troubles. His apology comes in the form of a kiss placed just behind your ear, and though it’s a chaste thing you still feel a shudder run up the length of your spine. It’s been damn near a week since the two of you have had the combination of time, energy, and the minimum amount of needed privacy to do much more than some heavy petting, and given the state of your libidos, a week’s more akin to a month.

Of course he notices the way his kiss affects you, and of fucking course the jerk decides that now would be a good time to pepper more of them along the column of your neck. Knowing that telling him to stop will only lead to him doing something far less innocuous you decide that ignoring him to the best of your ability is the better course of action. If anyone else takes issue with his amorous display they keep it behind their teeth; whether this is because they’re too used to seeing shit like this by now, or out of fear of what the man’ll do to them if he thinks they’ve offended and-or embarrassed you, you cannot say—though if you’re being honest you know it’s probably mostly due to the latter.

“Fuck you Karen, I’m helping Arthur ‘n’ ‘nem rob that stagecoach outside of Valentine.” Your voice only catches once as you speak and you count that as a victory.

“You hear that, Miss Jones? They have an actual task to tend to, but you? You’re just sittin’ around–”

The rest of Ms. Grimshaw’s tirade is lost to you when Javi breathes a quiet “Qué?” into your ear.

“Oh, right, guess you wouldn’t ‘ve heard yet. Arthur’s got a lead on some rich fucks that’re passin’ through the area on their way to Golden Planes so me, him, Lenny, and Charles are gonna hit ‘em up. Should be a pretty decent sized haul from what I gathered. Apparently the feller’s some actor preparing for a role by ‘roughing it’ like us common folk, ‘cept not really since he’s got himself a nice little caravan-type-deal goin’ on complete with all the comforts that he’s so accustomed to.”

You roll your eyes hard at the absurdity of it all. You remember hearing a traveling preacher once say something about a fool and his money being easily parted, and while you’re pretty sure that armed robbery’s normally considered to be a sin in this case you just might be doing the Lord’s work. The thought leaves you snorting out half a laugh as you continue on.

“The man sounds like a asshole, and a dumb one at that. Hell, given why he’s on this fool’s quest we just might be helpin’ him out—ya know, lettin’ him experience the true grit of America’s untamed land and the hounding terror of the roguish gangs that rove its planes, or, yanno, some equally flowery bullshit. Anyway, it’s pretty poorly guarded, relatively speaking, and sure to be full of loot if Arthur’s contact is to be believed—and I’m sure she is. Barmaids hear everything and she’s sweet on Arthur besides. She’s been doin’ everything she can to help ‘em in hopes that he’ll take more of an interest in her, the poor girl. She’s so hung up on him she can hardly see straight. Kinda wish I could tell her better, but she probably wouldn’t believe me anyways.”

You aren’t expecting too much in the way of reply aside from a snort of amusement, or maybe even an offer to come along, really anything but the growled “No” that you get.

“Excuse me?”

You couldn’t have heard him right, you think, but then he says it again.

You lean off to the side so that you can get a better look at him. His expression is just as straight forward as the uttered word and twice as hard. You arch a brow as you look from the pursed set of his lips to the banked fire in his eyes. He’s clearly upset, though for the life of you, you cannot understand why.

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor. I don’t want you anywhere near something that risky.”

You scoff loudly at that. Who does he think he is? That you are? There have only ever been a few people in your life that could ever even begin to think of forbidding you to do anything, and they’ve all long since died, so needless to say Javier Escuella is not among their number. And that’s not even touching on his blatant disregard of the skills that you’ve earned through the literal shedding of your blood, sweat, and tears. You can handle yourself just fine, and had been doing so for literal years before you even knew he existed. You’re not some goddamn damsel from out of one of Mary-Beth’s books, and you’re definitely not looking for someone to save you. When you tell him as much he just sighs.

“I never said you were. I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Well you’re sure as shit not actin’ like it,” you give back. He sighs again before muttering something under his breath in Spanish and for some reason that makes you even angrier. “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, Javier, then say it. And at a volume that I can actually hear, if you goddamn please.”

“I said, you’re acting like a child,” he bites off.

“I’m acting like a child? Me? Are you fuckin’ serious right now? You’re the one that started all of this!”

“I didn’t start anythi–”

“Oh so the whole ‘you’re not going’ bit—that wasn’t you startin’ it?” The sound you let out is a bitter shadow of a laugh. “I lost my father a long time ago, Escuella, and I’m not lookin’ to replace him, least of all with my goddamn boyfriend.”

He pinches his eyes shut in frustration. “I’m not trying to replace anybody! Fuckin’– I just want you to be safe.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I never said that you couldn’t.”

“Then what are you sayin’?” you demand with a toss of your hand. “‘Cause from where I’m sittin’ it sounds a whole damn lot like you think I’m too fuckin’ incompetent to get the job done.”

When the only reply you get is a hard, agitated breath you just nod your head. “And there it is. Hm. Well, regardless of your estimation of my skills, Mister Escuella, I’m more than capable of handlin’ a simple robbery. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’ve a few things that need doin’ before I go and I don’t want Arthur and the rest waitin’ on my account.”

You give him a look when the arm that bars you in doesn’t immediately fall away. Javier meets your stare then and the tumultuous mix of emotions that you find in those warm brown irises leaves your indignation faltering, but before you can even begin to make an attempt at deciphering any of it he’s dropping both his eyes and his arms.

No further words are exchanged, though the small part of you that’s not currently pissed the fuck off feels as if you should say something. Leaving things like this is hardly wise, especially since there is a possibility—relatively slim though it is—that you may not come back, but you just can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. Javier has stepped squarely on a rather sensitive nerve, and that he can’t see that, that he won’t make the first move to apologize…

It hurts more than you care to admit, even to yourself.

You’re both adults and should be able to talk about this like the reasonable people you usually are, but you can’t be the bigger person right now. For a long time people had put you down and made you feel as if you and your abilities had no real worth and you believed them. It had taken years for you to realize that they were wrong, that you’ve always had value beyond anything they—and even you yourself—could ever know. Your self-confidence is a thing hard earned and you’ll die before you ever allow anyone to strip you of it again. Having one of the people closest to you threatening it, unintentional though it may have been, hits you hard and you just can’t.

Don’t. Won’t.

As you go you feel more than just Javier’s eyes on you. It seems as if you gave the gang a show to go with their morning meal and the thought leaves your face uncomfortably warm. Where’s Abbi and John when you need ‘em? you think as you make your way back to your tent. When compared to the screaming matches that the pair of them frequently engage in what you and your man had done can hardly even be called a proper fight.

Abandoning the mug that you hadn’t even realized you were still carrying, you grab everything you’ll need from the little box that sits tucked away in the shared space of your makeshift shelter; afterwards you head over to the medicine wagon and collect a few items, just in case worst comes to worst. Now fully kitted out, the only thing left to do is join Arthur and the rest over by the horses—which means cutting through the middle of the camp. Eyes forward, shoulders squared, and face set in a way that says ‘stay the fuck away’ you head towards your destination. Thankfully the pointedly unwelcoming combination works as intended and the short trip is blessedly uneventful.

Arthur and Charles are both in the process of loading up their horses, but Lenny is nowhere to be found. You breathe out a sigh of relief at that as it would’ve been beyond mortifying if your argument had caused you to be the last one to arrive.

“Gents,” you greet as you approach your horse. The cheer that you infuse the word with sounds fake, even to your own ears, but if the men pick up on this they don’t mention it.

You’re sure that your spat with Javier hadn’t been loud enough to reach them all the way over here, but gossip in the camp spreads faster and easier than legs in a cathouse so they’ve probably gotten an embellished account by now. Thankfully the pair of them are some of the most kindhearted men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and they won’t pry or shame you for your actions regardless of what they’ve been told.

True to form, they greet you in kind before asking if you’ve seen the youngest of your little party, and you shake your head. “Thought he’d be over here by now,” you say with a shrug.

“I swear to god if that boah’s still sleepin’,” Arthur mutters as he turns his eyes back towards the camp proper. Charles is already one step ahead of him, however. Sitting atop Taima gives him a better vantage and he easily spots the teen over by Strauss’s wagon. The older man doesn’t even bother with looking himself, instead choosing to scream, “Lenny! Get the molasses outta yer ass, boah!” across the expanse.

Lenny picks up the pace at the beckoning. Long legs carry him across the distance at a decent clip and within a minute he’s sliding up next to you. He gives Arthur a sheepish grin as he shrugs helplessly. “I uhh, I had a hole in my pants, man; had to get that seen to first.”

Remembering the trousers that you’d seen Tilly with before you look him over and—yup. Same ones. The sight leaves you huffing in amusement, but the feeling is quickly shadowed by everything that came afterwards.

We were okay, fine ‘n’ fuckin’ dandy—how the hell did that change so fast? You quickly shake the melancholy away. Now’s not the time or place to deal with your personal shit; distracted minds only ever lead to people getting hurt or worse.

Unaware of you inner turmoil, the men share a laugh before moving on to talking about the plan.

“Alright,” Arthur starts, “Charles is gonna ride on ahead and look for a good ambush spot outside of town, and I want one of you to go with ‘em.”

“I’ll go,” Lenny offers, as eager to help as ever.

His older flashes him a smile as he claps him on the shoulder. “Good man. That means me and you,” he nods his head in your direction, “are heading into town. Ruth says that they’re not supposed to be leaving out until sometime after ten, but I’d rather keep eyes on them all the same.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug.

“I already have a couple of places in mind,” Charles says as he gives his horse a few loving pats to the neck, “so it shouldn’t take too long. Want us to meet you back in Valentine after?”

Arthur nods. “It’s better if we’re not all seen in one place, so you two should head on over to Keane’s. I’ll linger around Smithfield’s, and ____ can take the hotel. Sound good?” When he gets answers in the affirmative he gives a gruff hum of approval. “Good. Alright folks, this should be an easy one, and if everything goes accordin’ to plan we’ll be done well before noon.”

“Aw come on Arthur, don’t say that,” Lenny moans as he swings himself up into Maggie’s saddle. “You’ll jinx us for sure.”

“Never took you for the superstitious type,” Charles comments.

“Never was, not before all this. I’m not usually one for all that ‘curses and bad juju’ stuff, but with everything that’s been goin’ on lately–”

The rest of their conversation is lost to you under the sound of their steeds’ combined hoof-falls. You and Arthur both mount up yourselves then before following after them at a more leisurely pace. A comfortable silence lingers as you steadily make your way towards Valentine and not for the first time you find yourself being distinctly grateful that Arthur is who he is. He’s not one to meddle, but he’s always there to offer an ear or a shoulder to cry on when you need it.

And he thinks he isn’t a good man. The musing leaves your lips twisting wryly.

“It’s nice to see Charles opening up more,” you comment after several long moments have passed. And it really is. You liked the man from the moment you met him, and more often than not you found yourself seeking out his quiet presence when things around camp got too rowdy. Charles has mastered the fine art of being and you can only hope that one day you’re as at peace with yourself as he so often appears to be.

Arthur hums his agreement. “Yeah. He’s a good one, that Charles—one of the best Dutch has brought into the fold in a long while.”

Unlike Micah, the unspoken subtext reads. You, like most people in the camp (and probably the world at large) can’t stand the rat bastard, but you also don’t feel like talking about him either. That man exhausts you to no end, and you’re fairly certain that just saying his name aloud has the potential to shave several hours off of your lifespan. Thankfully Arthur doesn’t seem too keen on bitching about him at the moment—odd given that it’s one of his favorite pastimes, but ‘gift horses’ and all that.

“You should’ve seen what he did to Uncle last night, nearly drove the old lush crazy,” he tells you around a laugh before laying out the scene.

Apparently the man had tried to strike up a conversation with his younger over supper only to have every starter shot down with one word answers. By the end of it all Uncle had walked away red faced, frustrated, and in dire need of something stronger than the beer he’d been drinking.

“And-and Charles, he just–” a hard spurt of laughter, “he just looks over at me and the rest of the boahs and he’s got the sliest little smirk on his face and we just lost it. He knew what he was doin’.” Though the retelling leaves much to be desired, the mirth in your brother’s voice is contagious and you find yourself laughing as well.

“That is funny. Wish I could’ve seen it for myself.”

“Mmm. Guard duty’s a bitch, huh?”

“Who you tellin’? I know why we have to do it, but dammit if it doesn’t get up my ass. At least I got one of the better shifts this time around. I was barely able to stay awake long enough to finish my stew, but at least I got a full night’s rest. Plus I didn’t have to worry about waking up Javi, so…” His name is out of your mouth before you realize it and just like that your mood loses what little levity it had managed to gain.

The man at your side sighs, though the sound isn’t one born of impatience or long-suffering; he’s always hated to see anyone within the gang at odds with one another, but especially people that are as close to him as you and Javier.

He flicks up the brim of his hat so that his eyes are fully visible when he looks over at you. “If you wanna talk about it…”

“I… I do,” you admit with a sigh of your own, “but I also don’t, not right now at least. Work first, emotional bullshit second—yeah?”

“If you’d like,” he drawls back.

You smile at him then, small and grateful, before reaching over the gap and giving his arm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

No more words are exchanged after that, none are needed. He gets it, gets you—so how is it that the man whose affections are supposed stretch far beyond that of a brother’s doesn’t?

They aren’t coming back.

Clink. Thud.

Not that they should.

Clink. Thud.

They can do better than you. Already have, really.

Clink. Thud.

He is perfect for them, has known ‘em longer, understands them in a way that you probably never will. They have history; no matter how hard you try, there’s no competing with that.

Clink. Thud.

They’re perfect together—they should be together.

Clink. Thud.

And what else did you expect? You already had your shot at love, how could you possibly think that you’d get another?

Clink. Thud.

And on the off chance that you did—have—how do you know it won’t all be snatched away from you again?

Clink. Thud. THWACK!

Javier embeds the axe into the stump with enough force to send large splinters of wood flying out from around the heavy metal head. An especially wayward piece nicks him just under his left eye, but he’s too numb—both inside and out—to notice the sting of it. His thoughts have been relentlessly following the same misery-fueled loop of self-degradation since he’d watched his amor ride out of the camp this morning.

Things had gotten awkward fast around the firepit, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was as if his body and mind both ceased all higher functions once he let you out of his arms, leaving him with only the capacity to hollowly stare after you as you went about readying yourself to go. Your movements were hard and jerky as you checked over your weapons and filled your pouches with tonics and salves, as clear a sign of your anger—your rage—as you were willing to show. And when you had walked past him to get to the horses… It was like he was air to you, no less than that. Some useless thing that was undeserving of even a scrap of your time or attention. Your expression was hard and your eyes blank as you passed him by without so much as even a parting glare and that’s when he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had fucked up bad.

His amor is done. Their relationship is done. And it’s all his fault.

“Joder!” He hisses out the curse as he sends one of the newly quartered logs flying with a hard kick. It’s mildly satisfying, seeing the chunk of wood sail through the air, so he kicks another one. And another, and another. It’s only when the last one lands some several feet away that he pulls the axe from its resting place to start in on the pile of lumber once more.

“Dios, soy un jodido idiota,” he all but growls as the tool’s metal head embeds itself in the wood’s pale center. “Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno–” (God, I’m a fucking idiot. / I’ll never be good enough.)

“I’ll admit my Spanish isn’t the best, but I know the sound of a man beratin’ himself when I hear it.”

Of course Hosea would be the one to come find him. He’s the only one with enough balls to approach him when he’s this pissed and welding an axe, but also enough heart to actually care—the bowl of stew and bottle of beer he holds are both further testament to the latter.

“If I said that I was fine, would you believe me and go away?” the younger man asks between chops.

Hosea chuckles a bit. “Given that you were mumblin’ to yourself somethin’ fierce just a few seconds ago—no. Look, if you don’t want to talk about it I’m not gonna make you,” he assures him. “But what I am gonna ask you to do is to sit down for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because workin’ yourself half to death won’t help anything.”

“What if I don’t care?”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Well then I do, and I can guarantee you it’s more than enough to carry the both of us ‘til you come back to your senses.”

He cuts his eyes over to the conman. “My ‘senses’ rode out of here this morning  without so much as a backwards glance.”

“So I saw,” Hosea starts as he moves to sit on the repurposed barrel. “Does this mean that you want to talk about it then?”

Javier groans loudly as he embeds the axe into the stump once again. “No. Dios mío, Hosea, please—just drop it.”

“Fine,” the man concedes with a shrug. “I’ll drop the subject, you’ll drop that axe, and we’ll both go about the rest of our day.”

“Is that an order?”

“Don’t get your hackles up, Mister Escuella—givin’ orders is more of Dutch’s thing than mine. I’d much rather lay out your options and hope that you’ll make the best choice.”

“Yes, because clearly I’ve been makin’ quality decisions all day.”

Eyes nearly as dark as his own pin him with a pointed look. “While your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, it is telling. There’s no point in cryin’ over spilled milk, my boy—all you can do is clean up the mess and try to move on. Stewin’ over what you should’ve done or said isn’t helpin’ anything. Calm yourself, get some food in your belly, sleep if you can; you’ll need a clear head if you want to fix things between the two of you.”

“How can you sound so sure?”

“Well I was married for nearly fifteen years,” Hosea reminds him. The smile that accompanies his words is as bittersweet as it always is whenever the topic is broached, though as he looks the younger man over it softens. He nods for Javier to take the seat next to him and after a few seconds of hesitation he does; when offered the bowl and bottle he accepts them without further prodding. The patriarch waits until he’s got a few good spoonfuls in him before speaking again.

“You know, the pair of your remind me a lot of me and my Bessie. We had our fair share of rough patches, especially when I couldn’t settle into the humdrum of domestic bliss she seemed so intent on—but that’s a story for another time,” he says with a wave of his hand. “The point I’m tryin’ to make is this: if you both want to make this work, you will.

“Some people think that being in love means never havin’ to say you’re sorry, but that’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard. Love is all about sayin’ you’re sorry and forgivin’ in turn. It’s reachin’ consensuses and occasionally conceding, but never compromisin’. And above all else it’s all about how much work you’re willin’ to put in. The sentiment alone won’t keep you afloat—you have to choose to stay together.”

Javier has to admit that that all makes sense—even if it takes him several long, thoughtful moments to do so—but–

“What if they don’t want to? What if they don’t come back?”

“Oh they’ll definitely come back.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well it’s actually quite simple, Mister Escuella,” Hosea starts with a chuckle, “it’s because their home is here.”

The sound he makes in reply is equal parts rude and dismissive. “This place isn’t home to any of us, Hosea.”

“Not here, as in the ground we’re standing on, dear boy—their home is you.”

His first instinct is to argue, but there’s so much confidence in the old man’s voice that he finds himself faltering. If someone who’s on the outside looking in can believe it so emphatically, why can’t he? His amor completes him in so many ways, and they’ve told him countless times now that he does the same for them… Surely they wouldn’t throw all of that away—their love away—over one stupid little fight?

They wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Not so long as he has some say in it.

If, once all is said and done, they still wants to part ways he’ll let them go, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let what they have die without a fight.

“Ahh, now there’s the right kind of fire!” Hosea stops just short of clapping him on the shoulder, having long since learned that his younger isn’t overly fond of undue contact. Instead he gives him a broad smile before using his knees as a push off point to rise to his feet. “I know it all feels like a bit much, bein’ your first major spat and all, but when you sit down and think on it rationally, nine times outta ten you’ll find that it’s not such a big thing.”

Javier’s reply comes in the form of a noncommittal huff followed by a long pull from the dark tinted bottle. His continued sullenness only serves to make the old man smile.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Mister Escuella, but I’ll get there yet. In the meantime please try and get some sleep. None of us want to see you passin’ out from exhaustion, and that’s to say nothin’ of the tongue lashin’ you’ll get from Susan if she thinks you’re making a burden of yourself.”

“With all the wood I just chopped, both she and Pearson should stay off my case for a while yet.”

“True. Which is why you shouldn’t bother with any further tasks. Take a rest–”

“I’d rather take a bath,” he admits. Thanks to the tight schedule he’s been forced to keep it’s been damn near a day and a half since he’s had an opportunity to do more than a cursory rubdown and he’s long since started to feel grimy.

Hosea hunches up a shoulder. “Fine then. Bath first, sleep after, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

The older man gives him a smile and a nod before leaving him to finish the rest of his meal in peace. Now that his mind isn’t so weighed down with sorrow he’s able to enjoy the freshness of the rabbit meat and the fine blend of herbs that accompany it—compliments of Charles’ snares and one of Mary-Beth’s ‘acquisition jobs’ in town respectively. Within a few minutes the bowl is empty and the bottle soon follows suit. Not looking to make more work for the ladies than necessary, he takes both over to the washing station and cleans up his mess before gathering up what he needs and heading down to the river.

The bath does wonders for his mood, with every swipe of the rough cloth over his skin rubbing away a portion of his self-loathing and doubts, and by the time he’s dressed in a fresh set of clothes he has mostly come back to himself. Taking advantage of the noonday sun he doesn’t gather his hair up as he usually does but instead leaves it to hang loose. Though the feeling of the heavy, damp locks against his neck is unpleasant he knows it’ll be dry soon enough. As he plops down onto his makeshift bed, his lover’s scent wafts up to greet him; it leaves his heart twisting with longing and just a little bit of dread, though he’s quick to push the latter away.

Soon, he promises himself. Soon they’ll come back to this place—back to his arms, back to their home—and when they do the pair of them will talk this thing out and reach an understanding, he’s sure of it.

“Now I do want to thank you all so very kindly for your cooperation,” Arthur starts as he swings himself up into his saddle and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

It seems as if spending the better part of his life under Dutch’s tutelage has endowed him with the same grandiose flair that plagues your illustrious leader, and you can only thank the Almighty that he doesn’t indulge in it overmuch.

“Now remember: going back towards Valentine will get you nowhere—well, nowhere you’ll want to be, anyway. The only place there’s a future for you is out there, across the Dakota at Wallace Station on the train that waits for you. Right?”

A dozen-plus voices, shrill with fear and just a touch frantic, rise up in agreement; the owners of said voices are tied to the wheels of the ransacked wagons that sit before your little group of outlaws. Though they’re all more or less in the state in which you’d found them, they’re a bunch of gentle folk; all it took to cow them were a few well-placed shots and some rather colorful language.

Arthur and Lenny had walked them through tying themselves up while you and Charles had made sure that there weren’t any enterprising guards among them lying in wait. In the end it hadn’t taken you more than a solid twenty minutes to get them squared away and their valuables stashed on your respective horses. All the while the captives behaved as they were expected to. Crying, cursing, praying—all typical responses to being held at gunpoint and relieved of all your worldly possessions–

“Thank you for this, sir! I won’t soon forget the lesson you and your compatriots taught me here today!”

–and then there’s Slias Spatchcock.

Apparently the man’s some type of up-and-coming actor known for his portrayal of outlaws like yourselves. You can only shudder to think what that says about the state of the industry as a whole because this jackass can barely tell the business end of a pistol from his goddamn elbow.

Arthur had entertained a few of his questions—mostly just as a way to get the idiot to shut up—and in exchange the man had promised to model his next performance after the “–rough ‘n’ tumble gunslinger, whose eyes are as green as jade, but as hard as flint.” You’re pretty sure that nobody besides you had noticed the slight flush that had crept up the older man’s neck at the words, but you’re enough, really. You’d never tease him about it, he gets enough shit from everyone about everything as is, but you like to think of it as further proof of his allure.

Everywhere he goes just about every one of every gender finds their eyes trailing after Mister Morgan for one reason or another, though he’s loathed to notice this, let alone admit it. Hell, even now, with several of the women (as well as Silas) looking up at him with a curious combination of lust, fear, and anger he still doesn’t see it.

“See that you don’t, Mister Spatchcock,” the man of the hour replies with a tip of his hat.

“Here.” Charles’ voice is much louder than usual in deference to the distance between him and the captives; the dull thud of a knife embedding itself into the ground just a few scant feet away from one of the men’s boots punctuates the extremely short sentence. “Remember—if you try to give chase we will shoot to kill.”

It’s with this last grim reminder that the four of you set off back towards Valentine. Once you’re a good ways away you find a nice secluded spot to divvy up the loot. Surprisingly there isn’t too much of note in the haul; a decent amount of jewelry, some actual cash, and a few books whose value is found in their ability to entertain. Of course the camp gets its due right off the top, but you’re all still left with nearly sixty dollars and a few trinkets apiece. With that last bit of business taken care of you all go your separate ways.

Charles turns back the way you came, citing a need to make sure your victims don’t get any cute ideas. Lenny’s heading back to the camp to drop off the offering as well as to catch some sleep before his shift on guard duty, and you can only assume that Arthur will be joining him; this leaves the three of you to fall into step as you headed back towards civilization.

The men chat as you go—mostly about the heist itself, with Arthur giving his younger a few pointers—and you’re content enough to let them talk around you. Though the mildly euphoric feeling of a job well done rests warm in your chest, you can’t quite shake the melancholy that still shrouds you. You rather enjoy this particular aspect of your life, being a Robin Hood for a new generation, and the only thing that makes it better is having the people you love best at your side as you partake in it. You’ve always loved pulling off jobs with Javi, and you had thought he felt the same, but the way he acted this morning…

You sigh heavily as you mentally push the thought, and the anger that follows it, away; you’re not going to let him ruin the rest of this day for you. In fact, you’re going to treat yourself. You’ve already rented a room at Saints as part of your cover, and you don’t see any reason why you should let it go to waste. Yes, a nice hot bath will do you a world of good, as will a decent meal–

And the camp’s doing pretty well for itself. Between all of us workin’ and Charles and Arthur’s huntin’ skills we aren’t exactly wantin’ for too much. I could get myself something nice, maybe look into getting a new part for my pistol…

Lenny’s farewell snaps you back into the present and you return it with a nod of your head, as well as a warning for him to look after himself. The young man huffs a bit at your words, but doesn’t brush them off completely—can’t, not with the manner of luck you’ve all had lately. After one last tip of his hat he’s spurring Maggie on as they speed back towards the Overlook.

“You’re not going with him?” you ask your brother. He’s been running himself especially ragged these past couple of weeks and you’d thought that he would jump at the chance to sleep in his own bed.

“Much rather sleep in an actual bed,” he replies when you say as much. “Besides there’re a few things I want to do in town before we inevitably get run out of it.”

You laugh a bit. “Fair enough. Would you… care for some company?”

Despite your bond the question is posed tentatively. Arthur doesn’t take nearly enough time for himself and you feel no small amount of self-loathing for impeding on his rare allowance, but you’re not exactly thrilled with the idea of being left alone with your thoughts right now. Thankfully the “Sure” you get is quick and genuine.

“Feels like forever since we’ve done anything, just you ‘n’ me. But first I’d like to take a bath, if you don’t mind. I’ve got to smell like a goat’s ass by now and can’t look much better.”

“You’re not alone there. Meet you at Smithfield’s in a couple of hours then?”

He tosses you a wink that leaves you scoffing. “It’s a date.”

Freshly scrubbed and donned in the clean clothes you always leave stored on your horse’s pack, you meet a rather dapper Arthur in Smithfield’s Saloon at a quarter past three. Apparently he hadn’t spent quite as long soaking his cares away as you did; his hair and beard both have been seen to, with the former being a good several inches shorter and well tapered on the sides, and the latter not nearly so shaggy as last you seen him. You let out an appreciative whistle when you slide into the chair across from him at the table for two.

“Lookin’ sharp, Mister Morgan.”

“I–” He stops short when he sees the look on your face. You’d already told him to lay off that self-depreciating bull, and while you’re sure he still gets up to it when you’re not around, when you are he knows it’s a no-go. “Thanks,” he starts again. “You’re lookin’ mighty nice yourself.”

There’s nothing special about the plain ensemble you’ve thrown on, but you don’t feel the need to contradict the statement. “Well thank ya kindly, sir. Now what’s a fine specimen such as myself gotta do to get a drink ‘round these parts?”

Arthur rolls his eyes even as he chuckles before heading over to the bar. A few minutes later he returns with two glasses and a bottle of mid-shelf whiskey. “I took the liberty of putting in our lunch order,” he tells you as he pours you both a measure. “They said it should be out shortly.”

You hum your thanks as you accept your glass. You have no idea what’s on the menu today, nor does it rightly matter; the place serves what it serves and either you eat it or you don’t. Luckily their house chef is a good cook, much better than Pearson these days—though to be fair to the man, up until very recently he didn’t exactly have the best environment or ingredients to work with.

The pair of you chat about everything and nothing, mostly just catching one another up on what you’ve been getting into since settling in at the Overlook. By the time the barmaid is bringing out your meal you’ve fallen into reminiscing about the members of your cobbled family that you’ve lost. You share a toast in their honor before digging in.

“So, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?” Arthur asks once your plates have been taken away.

You shrug. “I was thinking about investing in a new pair of boots since these have certainly seen better days, maybe a part or two for my pistol too. If there’s anything left after that I’ll pick up a few things for the ladies just ‘cause.”

He hums in that way he does as he leans more fully back in his chair, a truly contented smile playing at his lips. “Lookin’ to treat yourself then?”

“You sayin’ I don’t deserve it?”

“Not at all. Well if that’s what you wanna get into, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“I never intended to monopolize your time, Arthur. I’m sure the absolute last thing you wanna do is putter around from shop to shop with me.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assures you as he rises from his seat. You give him a skeptical look as he nods expectantly towards the door, looking for any sign that he’s being overly selfless again, but for a wonder he doesn’t seem to be putting on airs.

“Well far be it from me to turn down such a strapping escort.” Ignoring his scoffing laugh you finally rise as well and head out into the town proper.

Javier awakes to the smell of coffee, much to his confusion.

It’s far too late in the day for anyone to be brewing the stuff, and the sleeping area is purposefully situated far away from the ‘kitchen’ besides. It isn’t until sleep-bleary eyes land on the little crate-slash-bedside table that he finds the culprit: the mug that you had been nursing this morning.

His brain stalls hard as memories of the harsh words and heated glares you’d exchanged come flooding back.

“God, I’m such a jackass,” he mutters under his breath as he pinches at the space between his brows.

Had he been less sleep deprived then maybe things wouldn’t have veered off so badly. He hadn’t meant to insult you or try to assert some control over you that he most certainly knew he didn’t have—he just wanted to keep you safe. That’s not so unreasonable, is it? He doesn’t think so, not with the way things have been going since the Massacre. In the time since the pair of you haven’t been apart too often, his brief trip into Valentine aside. And even then he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of leaving you alone, even if you were within the relative safety of the camp.

Logically he knows that you cannot be tucked under each other’s arms twenty-four seven—your responsibilities, as well as your sanity, won’t allow for that, but… Javier Escuella has always been a man who often times puts heart before head. It’s a habit that has gotten him into more than a few scrapes, but what went down between the pair of you may be his biggest blunder to date. Still, he has to believe that he can fix things. Even the darkest of nights have a dawn, he knows—I just need to find my sunlight.

To that end he quickly scrambles to get dressed before checking the time. It’s just a little past three in the afternoon. He has no idea when you all were set to hit up that caravan, but with any luck you’re already back and cooled down enough to tolerate his presence again.

People extend him more grace than what he probably deserves when he exits his tent, treating him as they normally would despite him showing his ass earlier. Unfortunately nobody has seen hide or hair of you, which is strange given the fact that half of the crew you set out with returned over an hour ago.

Charles and Lenny had rode in separately, with the former having broken away from the group early on. He had assumed that the others were heading back to camp, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What’s more the only one that would more than likely know where you are is fast asleep and Javier doesn’t want to wake him. That would be a dick move and a display of desperation that—well, he’s not exactly above, but not quite at the point of just yet.

“If they aren’t here they’re more than likely still in Valentine,” Charles tells him. “That would make the most sense as ____ rented a room there.”

The outlaw can feel his face harden with this new bit of information. While he knows there’s nothing more to it—to you and the man that is your brother in everything but blood—that treacherous little part of his brain that never fails to remind him just how inadequate he is when compared to the likes of Arthur Morgan rears its cruel head. Though he stays quiet it’s very obvious to the other man exactly what roads his mind have traveled down.

Charles gives him a disapproving look as he shakes his head. “Don’t do that, Javier. It’s a disservice to yourself as well as the both of them. Neither of them would ever betray your trust like that, and ____ would certainly never disrespect themselves or your relationship in such a way. I don’t know what you’ve gone through to make you think otherwise, but you’d be better off putting those issues to rest sooner rather than later.”

Though the unsolicited advice grates, Javier hears the wisdom in it. Old betrayals and past hurts have left their mark in mind and heart both, but if wants to have any hope of recovering and moving on—if he’s ever to have a real and solid future with you—then he has to move past it all.

From character to aptitude, never once in all the time that he’s known you have you ever given him any reason to doubt you in any capacity. You’ve only ever been good to him; radiating a kindness that warmed him from the inside out to melt away the ice around his heart so that love could blossom once more. How could something as inane as insecurities, ones that he’d convinced himself that he’d come to terms with long ago, come between that? Why was there ever even any room within him for that to take root and fester in the first place?

He knows the answer to this of course, and it’s a simple thing: because he let it. Had he at least tried to deal with his inner demons sooner instead of just sweeping them under the rug then maybe the pair of you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You really are a jackass, his brain silently reminds him yet again, as if it had no parts in this disaster once so ever.

Aloud, he breathes deeply before saying—admitting—“You’re right. I, uh… Thanks, Charles.”

The man nods before turning his attention back to the knife he’d been sharpening. Taking the sign of dismissal for what it is Javier heads over to the stables. He knows that fixing things won’t be so easy as uttering a simple two word apology, but as he preps Boaz for travel he’s positive that it’s definitely the perfect place to start.

“So, about that ‘emotional bullshit’…?”

You can’t help but to snort a laugh at that. “As tactful as ever.”

Arthur shrugs, chuckling a bit himself. “Never claimed to be anything other than what I am, you know that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug. “As for the ‘bullshit’, I… I don’t even know what went wrong, honestly.”

As you proceed to lay out the whole of the situation to him, Arthur mostly keeps quiet aside from the occasional hum of acknowledgement. Once you’ve gotten it all out he goes quiet for a long moment as he considers all that has been said. When he finally does speak again he isn’t saying anything that you don’t already know, but hearing it from an outside source gives it more weight than what your thoughts alone could provide. He speaks of context and meaning, inferences and biases, and how at the end of the day you shouldn’t allow what’s little more than a simple misunderstanding to impede on what it is that you and Javier share–

“–but that’s just my thoughts on the matter. I’m nobody’s Romeo, as you well know–”

“That’s probably for the best, given the way that particular story ended.”

“Smartass. You know what I mean. But in all seriousness, I think things’ll work out in the end so long as you’re willin’ to let ‘em…” He lets the sentence trail off with a resolute nod as he takes a cigarette from an intricately engraved tin—an actual present from an admiring actor, overly-eager to please. He offers you one, shrugging again when you decline, before lighting up.

“You make it all sound so easy,” you reply as you fiddle with your bracelet. The simple gold number’s a gift from Javier for your birthday just passed, one made all the more special by the fact that he had gotten himself one to match.

“I know it’s probably not the best time to be thinking about rings and the like, but…” His words had left you both blushing at the implications as he secured the thing around your wrist with uncharacteristically shaky hands. “I still like the idea of letting the world know you’re mine, just as much as I’m yours, even in this small way…”

“That’s because it is easy,” Arthur assures you, snapping you out of the brief reverie. “Just because I’ve got shit luck with love don’t mean I don’t know it when it’s sittin’ squarely in front of me. The two of you are made for each other, and no doubt about it, but your being perfect for each other doesn’t mean that you’re actually perfect. You’re bound to make just as many mistakes as the rest of us, especially with you being so close to one another.

“Toes get stepped on, feelings get hurt—it’s only natural. The only time you need to worry is when you feel like there’s no coming back from it. You don’t feel like that, do ya? And before you answer, I’m gonna need you to push all of the dramatics aside and think on it logically.”

The look that you give him says that you can do without the sass, but you do as you’re told all the same, not that it takes much prompting. You’re hurt, sure, but even that isn’t as prominent as it had been this morning. Now you mostly just feel sad over the fact that you’re at odds with the man you love; sad and a touch embarrassed at your very public altercation. This isn’t going to be the end for the pair of you, of this you are sure, but it does shed some light on areas that you both need to work on if your relationship is to be a long and healthy one.

After letting out a drawn out breath you say, “I– No, I don’t think that at all. Clearly there are some issues that need to be addressed, but it’s nothin’ so dire as all that. I know that Javier would never purposefully hurt me in any manner any more than I’d do so to him. We both just let our emotions get the better of us this mornin’, but that ain’t exactly surprisin’, all things considered.”

Your brother hums his agreement. Though things have been markedly better this past month that isn’t saying much. The gang has only just begun to fish itself out of the mire, but there’s no saying when fate’ll decide to throw you right back into the shit. You’ve collectively got the temperament of a beaten cat, and honestly thinking on it now it’s a miracle that you and Javier managed to go this long without really snapping at each other. When you say as much Arthur laughs hardily as he gives your shoulder a fond pat.

“And just like that you’re finally able to see the forest for the trees. You’ve pretty much solved your own problem there, not that I’m surprised. You’ve always been a smart one, ____; I knew you didn’t need me telling you what you already know. All there is left to do now is kiss and make up.”

There’s an amused tilt to his lips as he jerks his chin at some unseen point behind you. You arch your brow at him, but when all he does is grin wider you turn around to find–

“Javier.” He’s here. He’s come to you.

Seeing him standing outside of Saints loosens the last bit of tension in your chest. Your feet carry you forwards without any conscious thought on your part just as Javier’s seemingly do the same. Ignoring your brother’s quip about him “–actually wanting to get some sleep tonight, so try to keep it down, alright?”, you pick up your pace until you’re standing face to face with your man.

Javier breathes out your name like a prayer to some higher power, eyes traveling over the whole of you almost as if he cannot believe that you’re actually right here in front of him. Tentative hands reach out for you, stopping just an inch short of touching, though you’re quick to bridge the gap. Despite the fact that it hasn’t even been a full half a day since last you saw one another, those interim hours felt like they ran longer, colder—and how could they not, with the way you’d left things?

An apology is slipping from between both of your lips at nearly the same time, a thing that leaves Javi taken aback.

“No-no-no,” he starts, head shaking hard, “you’ve got no reason to be sorry, amor. It doesn’t matter how worried I was, I never should’ve said what I did—or, at least, not the way that I said it.”

“But I do need to apologize,” you insist. “I know you would never belittle me like that. The way you said it definitely could’ve been better, but… I shouldn’t ‘ve, I dunno, come out swingin’ like that. I’m better than that, we both are, even if we didn’t exactly show it.”

“I… Alright then. This, uhh… This went down a lot smoother than I was expecting it to, honestly.”

You laugh a bit a that. “Yeah, well, I guess us both being at fault make it easier to forgive and be forgiven.”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice a touch sheepish, “guess so.”

You smile then, soft and sweet, as you cup his cheek with your palm. Javier is quick to lean into your touch, his own lips curling up as well before he turns to cuddle them against your hand. The tickle of his mustache against the sensitive skin causes your fingers to twitch against him, but his own hand comes up to cover yours and hold it in place; he trails his ministrations down the length of your arm, heedless of your shirt, until he’s able to kiss you properly.

Javier licks hotly into your mouth, greedily swallowing up the least little sound you make even as he strives to draw more from your throat. His hands drift down to your hips to pull you in closer as he continues to stake his claim on your lips with teasing nips and soothing swipes of his tongue that you succumb to with a sigh that is content, if laced through with longing. Your hands curl feebly against the silky brocade of his vest, needing something—anything, really—to help keep you grounded. But for all your efforts, you’re sure that the only thing keeping you upright is the arms that have since coiled around your middle.

You know that your not-so-little display of affection has to be scandalizing the good people of this small town, but neither of you have a mind to care overmuch. It isn’t until a familiar voice tells you that “You’ve already got a room, goddammit, so kindly go and use it” that you finally decide to make the short trek into the hotel’s interior. Either the receptionist recognizes you, despite the man that’s all but affixed to your face, or he wisely chooses not to confront you—again, due to the man that’s all but affixed to your face. In any event you make it to your room without incident, with Javier only pulling away long enough for you to open and then quickly close the door behind you.

When he kisses you this time it isn’t nearly as frantic as before. He’s thorough, taking his time as he remaps the whole of your form with eyes and lips and hands, as if he were actually able to forget the look and feel of you in such a short span of time. Or maybe his touch is more reverent than that, an act of worship for the body that he thought he might never be able to touch again—it would certainly explain the promises to do better for you and by you that he’s been steadily murmuring in between kisses.

There’s a ceremony to the way he removes your clothes, and it turns the simple act into a supplicant’s display of devotion. The hesitancy that he’d shown earlier is nowhere to be found as he traces over the lines of you now with calloused fingers and heated breath. There is no part of you that goes untouched, no bit left unseen, and by the time the last article is removed you’re left naked in more ways than the obvious.

Still on his knees from where he helped you out of your pants, Javier looks up at you with an expression that can only be described as awestruck, though as he kisses his way back up your body it changes into something a bit more love drunk.

“Mi corazon,” he sighs as he cradles your face between his work-rough palms, “so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky, huh?”

You’re sure that he can feel the heat that creeps into your cheeks at that, and you’re quick to cover up your flustered state with another kiss. What starts off as an innocuous little peck soon turns into something that has you writhing against one another. Javier captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving the plush flesh a little suckle before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He owns the kiss, owns you—body, heart, mind, soul—and all you can really do is receive this outpouring of affection and lust.

When he finally pulls away some long moments later he doesn’t go far. His forehead leans heavily against your own as his hands pull you tighter against the bulge that has been growing impossibly harder this whole time.

“Tell me to stop, amor,” he says, the words breathed directly against your parted lips, “tell me right now, or I won’t be able to.”

You regard him through half lidded eyes that flutter close as you sigh out your simple reply of, “Mm, then don’t.”

And he doesn’t.

Slow ministrations are replaced by harried breaths and eager fingers and the all-consuming need to touch, claim—to feel and be felt in turn. It transforms the removal of his clothes into a nearly feral affair, one that sees seams ripping and buttons popping. Later you’ll both come to regret the fruits of your impatience, but in the now your only real concern is the more-more-more your bodies are crying out for.

Javier backs you up until you’re tumbling backwards onto the bed with a startled squawk. He follows you down with a chuckle, a dark and deep roll of a sound that would’ve surely turned your knees to smoke had you not already been lying down. Of course your man knows the effect he has on you, and ever as always he’s quick to take advantage of it, telling you to lie back so that he can “–love on you a bit, yeah?”

He leans back just enough for you to make yourself comfortable and then he’s on you again. Hot, opened mouth kisses are slurred from jaw to neck—where he stops to leave a few bites and sucks that are sure to blossom into bruises come nightfall—and beyond. His trek stops just past your bellybutton, with him nosing at the skin there. He looks up at you then, eyes impish as he takes in your mussed state and annoyed pout.

When you whine out his name he responds with a cheeky “Yes, amor?” that leaves you gritting out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh.

“Your eagerness is cute, baby, but you’re gonna have to use your words.”

“Ugh, fine! Fuckin’– Touch me, please.”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. And when he’s laving over your nipple, its twin caught between teasing calloused pads, you know that you have no one but yourself to blame.

“Patience is a virtue, cariño,” he reminds you when you start to whine, his thumbnail giving your nipple a pointed flick. “Now be good, and let me have my fun. It’s been too long since last I had you writhing all pretty-like underneath me, and I’m gonna take my time with you…”

When he puts it like that how can you do anything but lay back and receive his care?

Suckles that leave you sighing out his name are punctuated by nips that see the appellation scaling up into a whine. Tugs and pinches and the scrape of blunted nails—the roughness is always followed by something to soothe, and the dichotomy leaves you writhing with anticipation.

“Ja-vi~” the second syllable sticks in your throat as the pleasure-pain of an especially vicious pinch shoots through you, “ahhh, fuck! Please. I-I need…”

The desperation in your plea sees him finally pulling his attention away from your chest. You have no idea what it is he sees when he finally looks at you properly, but it softens his gaze. His expression goes gooey as he comes to hover over you; the position that he takes up is familiar, but one that long hours and disparate schedules have lent a level of elusiveness. Having it—him—back leaves you almost delirious with several types of longing. You want everything, from him and with him, and you want it all at once. The whole of your desire is laid out on display, you’re sure, but there’s no shame in it—and how could there be, in a love so pure?

Needy hands reach out and are instantly quelled by a warm body that is more than willing to oblige. The heated press of lips is accompanied by wandering hands that drag themselves along your torso. With experience guiding him, he alternates between feather-light caresses and purposeful strokes, always choosing the one that will leave you gasping out your pleasure into your shared kiss.

By the time he finally reaches your center you’re soaked, a thing that comes as no great surprise to either of you. Javier runs playful fingers through the proof of your arousal, gathering up a portion and smearing it across their pads before popping them into his mouth. You swallow thickly as you watch the near hypnotic way his tongue laves over the digits’ length, damn near cum on the spot when he slides the whole of them past his lips with a satisfied groan. You both know exactly what it is he’s doing to you, but that knowledge does little to detract from the provocative display.

When he releases his fingers some long seconds later they’re still glistening, albeit for another reason entirely, and you find yourself biting your lip at the sight. For his part Javier just smirks at you as he comes to lean into your space once more.

“Fuck, you always taste so damn good, baby.” As if to prove his point further he kisses you hard and deep, his tongue dragging heavily along yours to make sure you’re able to savor the fullness of your tangy musk.

His laugh is breathy when he finally pulls away with a little smack of lips—lips that he licks soon after, almost as if he cannot bear to waste even a smidge of your flavor.

“I gotta get a little bit more of that– You don’t mind, do you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Heh. Didn’t think so…”

His tongue is molten when it finally drags along the length of you. He groans deeply as he laps up the fluids that all but coat your twitching sex, and the vibrations leave your hips bucking wildly against his hold. It’s a practice in futility as every pass of the slick muscle against your heated flesh creates a bigger mess for him to clean—not that either of you are complaining.

Pursed lips suckle at your weak spot in a move that leaves you keening while long, calloused fingers prod at your entrance. The sheer amount of pre alone would probably be more than enough for him to slip comfortably inside, but he spits anyway—the hot, viscous glob allowing him to slip two fingers inside in one go. Pain and pleasure briefly mingle at the stretch, though the discomfort soon fades out leaving only a burning want that has you bearing down. Javier curses hotly at the added pressure against his digits, his movements’ efforts redoubling as he strokes and prods at your fluttering walls, focusing in on that spot that always leaves you seeing stars.

“‘M close,” you tell him, the words so slurred that you barely recognize them, “‘M close, so damn close, baby—fuck!”

“Mmm, then do it, amor, cum. I wanna feel it, taste it– Give it to me.”

With how wound up you are it doesn’t take much more than a few rolls of your hips to send you careening over the edge. A week’s worth of denial sees your orgasm washing over you with all the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely as it drags you into an abyss of pleasure. The gasping of your man’s name is prayer and plea both—for just as he is the only one that could ever lead you to this beautiful ruin, he’s likewise the only one who can see you through to calmer shores.

“So good for me, pretty baby, cumming like that. God, you’re beautiful.”

Though he has been steadily murmuring such words of praise since you first fell apart, you’re just now lucid enough to fully comprehend them. You feel your face flush even as your core gives a nearly painful throb. You know it’s greedy of you, wanting more when you’ve only just come down from your high, but that’s what this man does to you—and thankfully for you as well.

If your eyes are alight with flames then Javier’s are a roaring inferno from where he hovers over you. He kisses you deeply, easily stealing what little air you’ve managed to take in before asking, “Think you can give me one more?”

The question is rhetorical, of course, but you give him a shaky nod anyway. He slots his hips in against your then, and the fit is as perfect as ever. Having him so close to where you need him most is too enticing a thing, and you find yourself rutting against him without thought. The drag of his heavy cock over your heat is exquisite, pulling whimpers and whines from you as you continue to grind yourself against him. You man humors you for a few moments, allowing you to wet his cock with your arousal—all the while a decadent little smirk pulls at his lips despite the light pant he keeps up—though once he thinks your efforts are sufficient he’s lining himself up and sinking slowly in.

“Fucking tight” he growls at the same moment you groan out something about the stretch. Were you any less wrapped up in your pleasure you might’ve laughed a bit, but as it stands you only cling to the body above you as he sets up a steady pace.

Javier takes you deep and slow, with the sinuous roll of his hips only interrupted by the little snap that punctuates them. You can’t help the breathy whimpers and choked moans that push their way out of your throat any more than you can keep your fingers from digging into his shoulders, scalp, arms, and any other bits of him that your restless hands can get ahold of. Javi is just as bad off as you, having dropped his head back into the cubby between your cheek and shoulder long ago to nose at your sweat-slicked neck, the hot, wet drag of his tongue against the overly-sensitive skin there oftentimes turning into a nip or suck. His moans are almost deafening from this close, the feeling of them breaking hot and moist against you making you shiver.

“Dios, ____, baby, amor—fuck, I’m–” The rest of his sentence devolves into a growl that originates somewhere deep in his gut. “Ooooh just like that, baby, siempre me tomas tan bien. (You always take me so good.)

“I’m close,” he starts again, “so fuckin’ close, I can—hah! I can tell you are too. You wanna cum with me, yeah? You gonna do that for me, amor?”

Your replying nod is frantic as you pull him impossibly closer. “Yes, yes—please, I wanna…”

Javier promises to give you what you want—what you both need—and he delivers with hips angled just so and calloused fingers furiously rubbing against your most sensitive area.

Thoughts turned hazy from your mounting bliss whiteout completely before fireworks erupt throughout the whole of your being. You arch hard against Javi’s hold on you, hips bucking in spastic little thrusts that you could never hope to contain. Your shuddering sob of a moan holds for an impressively long time before petering out into something weaker as you finally collapse back onto the bed.

For his part you man rides the wave of your body, somehow managing to match your jerky movements enough to see himself through to his own end, shuddering his way through his release. With his eyes pinched shut and your name falling from his lips like a litany you’d almost swear that he was petitioning some exalted being. You cannot help but to admire his beauty in this moment, pushing his hair away from his sweat-slicked face before running your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks as you wait for him to come back to himself.

Once he finally settles, Javier presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before maneuvering you both so that you’re tucked in against his side. His fingers skitter back and forth over your ribs as he presses a few more kisses against your dewy skin in between declarations of love and praise. The moment is tender and perfect, everything you want and need, so why do you feel like you’re on the verge of tears?

You push back against the prickling heat that stings your eyes and tightens your throat, burrowing in deeper against Javier’s side in hopes of comforting yourself as well as to keep the sudden burst of melancholy hidden away. It’s not something you want to deal with right now, not when your emotions have been all over the place for the better part of a day, but Javier has always been able to read you like an especially well-loved book. He urges you from your hiding spot with gentle hands and soft pleas for you to “–look at me, please, baby?”

When you finally gather up enough courage to meet his gaze your heart stalls for a beat or two. There’s just so much love there—raw and unfiltered—that you almost cannot bear to hold his stare, but something within you, perhaps that selfsame unadulterated love, won’t allow you to turn away.

“No tears, sweetheart,” he murmurs despite the fact that any have yet to fall. “I’m here, and I’ll always be here. Always. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your voice is small, and your smile laced through with something vulnerable when you ask, “You promise?”

“I promise. There’s nowhere else for me. My heart, my home, my whole entire life—it’s all in you, amor. Wherever you go, I swear I’ll always be right there, by your side.”

His words are simple, deceptively so, but they’re your shared truth and they’re more than enough.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #((Immy's 200 Follower Event)) #and that's the last fill done--and it didn't even take me a full month to do it! lol #grant it that's probably because i only got 4 requests but w/e--i've learned to take my victories where i can get 'em #thanks to all that participated and for sending something in and for being so kind/patient!! #now send in the dancin' lobsters! and by that i mean the tags lmao #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x gender neutral reader #Javier Escuella x GN!Reader #javier escuella x you #javier escuella x y/n #javier escuella imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

The van der Linde boys in: “Whenever I Want You, All I Have to do is Dream~”

Relationship ABCs || Z is for ‘ZZZ’s’

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

|| ao3 version | series m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: No one, naturally. ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs/TWs: None, really. Tho two of the fills—Sean (to the surprise of literally no one lol) and Lenny’s—do have some suggestive undertones. ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ↠ Total WC: 7.7k~

♡ Today’s selection: “All I Have to do is Dream” by The Everly Brothers

In honor of all the sleep I’m not getting I decided to write about our favorite boahs and what they get up to between the sheets—no, not like that, why we always gotta go there?? Tho, okay, 2 fills do allude to some fade to black stuff but that’s not the point!

…tf am I even saying at this point? Idk man, I’ve been awake too long. So you lot take these while I go take a nap… well past midnight? I guess that’s just sleep then?? Whatever, I’m peacing out lol…

ZZZ’s || What are their sleeping habits (both with and without you)?

Arthur Morgan || WC: ~400

↠ He’s one of those weirdos *cough*like me*cough* who likes to make the room super cold and layer on the blankets.

At any given time he has at least three on his bed—usually a flat sheet, a thin comforter, and a heavier comforter in that order.

↠ He also keeps a fan going for both cooling and white noise purposes.

His preference for cooler temperatures gives him an excuse to cuddle into you, which is his preferred sleeping position.

He’ll burrow under the blankets, wrap his arms around you, and bury his face into your chest.

And yes—it’s as cute (and low-key claustrophobic) as you think it is.

Honestly if you’re big/sturdy enough that he thinks he can do so without crushing you he’ll be laying directly on top of you when he does this; if not he’ll be nestled alongside you with one leg thrown over yours.

↠ When he’s sleeping alone, Arthur’s a side sleeper. He always starts off on his back, but the minute he hits that good REM shit onto his side he goes.

He’s still a burrower/cuddler, though the object of his glombing becomes a pillow. He’ll keep it pressed flush against him with one hand while the other usually ends up under his head.

↠ Ofc all this is assuming this is a Modern AU were talking about. In yeehaw days you’ll still end up sleeping wrapped around each other, but once too much heat starts to build up between you he’s gonna instinctively roll away from you–

–which is good because he’s like a humanoid furnace.

Yes, this has definitely led to him rolling onto the floor on more than one occasion lol.

Obvi in the winter this isn’t a problem at all. You’ll be snuggled up so close to one another that you’ll legitimately look like one solid entity lol…

Now if it’s warm and he’s sleeping alone he’ll spread out as much as whatever he’s sleeping on will allow; this often leads to one half of his limbs going numb from hanging over the sides of cots and narrow beds.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, when it’s cold he’ll curl in on himself and pull the blankets up over his head, smothering himself in his own heat.

(Has actually woken up gasping because of this on several occasions; dude legit almost suffocated himself via blankets and body heat lmao…)

Bill Williamson || WC: ~500

↠ Much like Arthur, this man is a cuddler—see ‘A’ for more on that.

↠ He’s also big on spooning so it’s no surprise that that’s how y’all usually end up sleeping.

This is the only time he’s insistent on being the big spoon as he’s afraid of rolling over and crushing you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re of a comparative stature or not, the fear of potentially hurting you makes him paranoid all to be damned.

If you’re wrapped up in his arms he knows he’s gonna hold on to you and stay relatively still throughout the course of the night.

↠ He sleeps pretty warm, but isn’t overly fond of fans—white noise actually has the opposite effect on him for some reason, perking up his ears and making it hard to drift off—so he doesn’t wear much to bed–

–and by ‘much’ I mean dude sleep buck ass naked lol.

If you want to strip down as well great! If not he gets it, just don’t come whining to him if you wake up drenched in sweat.

Personally I would keep at least a light tank on as dude is hairy af and having that rubbing against your back all night sounds like the least appealing thing ever, but that’s just me.

He’s p. damn soft for you so if you’re really insistent he’ll give in and put some boxers on, but know he won’t be happy about it.

Also that’s all he’s gonna put on; don’t push your luck or he’ll go commando just to spite you lol.

After all you’ve never had a problem with his body before, so why start feeling some type of way now?

↠ Naturally he likes to keep as cool as possible, but if it’s not a modern AU there isn’t much to be done aside from getting naked and throwing the covers back.

Having such a naturally high body temperature sucks, but at least he, and by proxy you, never have to worry about how you’ll stay warm in the winter…

↠ Yeehaw days are p. much the same as modern times when it comes to his state of nighttime undress.

This is much to the displeasure, and distress, of the other gang members who’ve had the great misfortune of having walked in on him laying spread eagle inside his tent lmao.

Talk about a gd eyeful, but that’ll teach John to go barging in on people unannounced lol…

↠ No matter the era, when he’s alone he’s a restless sleeper, constantly tossing and turning and shifting positions.

You’d swear he was in a fight with the way the sheets—hell the whole damn bed—looks when he wakes up alone.

He usually goes to sleep on his side, but with the way he sifts about who can say what the final result will be…

Charles Smith || WC: ~500

↠ Charles sleeps like a dead man.

↠ No seriously—when dude knocks out, that’s it. He doesn’t move out of whatever position he’s in until sunup.

Those first few nights you’re gonna find yourself checking for the steady rise and fall of his chest just to make sure he’s still with you lol.

Hell, you’ll probably be doing this periodically for the whole of your relationship tbh…

↠ He’s also a v. light sleeper, so if you’re the kind that likes to shift about or snores that’s gonna be an issue in the beginning.

He can adapt to it, naturally, but those first few times are gonna be rough.

If you’re a restless sleeper he at least has the option of trapping you in a strong cuddle, but if you’re a snorer there’s not much to be done on his end.

Cue this poor baby staring at the ceiling at three in the a.m., praying for sleep to take him lol.

He won’t say anything about his disrupted sleep those first couple of nights as he doesn’t want to make you feel bad and-or make things awkward, but all it’ll take is one look at him to know he’s exhausted.

He’s also hoping that he can adjust to it soon, tho if he can’t y’all are going to have a talk. He knows that it’s more than likely beyond your control, but sleep is important, so if there’s anything you can potentially do to mitigate things then I implore you to do it for him lol…

↠ If he’s alone he likes to sleep on his stomach with his hands tucked under the pillow.

Is this partly because in the yeehaw days he likes to keep a piece underneath said pillow just in case a mf thinks they can catch him slippin’ in his sleep? Mayhaps.

As for why he does so in modern times, he just finds the positioning to be comfortable. Plus it adds a bit more stability to the pillow.

He doesn’t like to buy firm pillows as they’re usually too hard. He usually skews to the softer side of medium, with his hands making up the difference in firmness.

↠ If he’s sharing the bed with you he’ll either curl up around your back or let you sleep on his chest, whichever is more comfortable for you.

If forced to pick, he definitely prefers to have you lying on top of him. There’s just something about bearing your weight that he finds hella comforting.

In that same vein I definitely think Modern!Charles would own a weighted blanket or two, but I digress.

↠ No matter the ear, he doesn’t really have a preference for temperatures or anything.

If you’re cold pile on the blankets/crank up the heat/whatever it is you need to do to rectify that, and the same goes for warmer temperatures.

He doesn’t see the point in complaining about something that can be easily remedied—he’s practical like that.

Dutch van der Linde || WC: ~500

↠ Honestly this man is a nightmare to try and share a bed with.

↠ To be fair, his intentions are noble, it’s the results that are lacking.

Sure, things start out okay—more than okay, really.

He’s v. accommodating, molding himself into whatever configuration best suits you both, adding pillows and blankets as needed…

…but as the night progresses things take a decidedly downwards turn.

↠ Do you remember when I talked about Uncle being a strong cuddler back in ‘A’? Yeah, well meet the one man who can match him in grip strength lmao.

It doesn’t matter what position you went to sleep in, you’re getting squeezed half to death. Dude will have your soul leaking halfway out of your body with how tight he holds you to him.

If you bring it up to him he’ll honestly try to avoid doing it again, ‘good intentions’ and all that noise, but it still ends up being a thing. If you share a bed with him you’re getting that good WWE treatment, and that’s just facts.

And the worst part is if you manage to break his hold somehow and move to the other end of the bed this asshole will migrate with you and snatch you up again lmfao.

You have become the safety blanket he didn’t know he needed and his subconscious’ll be damned if it lets you go that easily.

↠ If he’s sleeping alone he likes to take up as much space as possible. Arms splayed, legs thrown out wide and head tilted off to the side—homie looks like he’s being served up as a sacrifice to some long forgotten god lol.

↠ As for temperature preference that really depends on the era.

↠ If it’s yeehaw days he used to say that he’d rather be cold than hot, but then Colter happened lol.

Now he cannot for the life of him stand temperature that dip below the fifties—that’s around 10 °C for you non-Fahrenheit users.

He doesn’t care how gross and sweaty he gets, he’d rather burn than have to worry about if his balls will ever descend again lmao.

↠ In modern times, however, he does like to keep the room on the cooler side.

Fans annoy him tho, so you’ll be more opt to find a cool mist humidifier running somewhere nearby.

The device’s purpose is two-fold as it helps to keep his fucked up sinuses clear and properly moisturized while he sleeps.

The one time you convinced him to go a night without it he told you that you would both be miserable because of it and he was right. Dude was snoring and coughing up a storm, but somehow stayed asleep? You on the other hand were just seconds away from taking a pillow and ending it all lmao…

Hosea Matthews || WC: 500~

↠ Look, Hosea is, by his own admission, old and set in his ways.

Luckily for you said ways are for the most part pleasant.

Having been married for a great many years he’s used to sharing a bed with someone. In fact he finds it much easier to get to sleep when there’s someone beside him, but this is a thing that he never actively acknowledged until you came along.

↠ When he’s with you he’s a side sleeper with a penchant for spooning.

Definitely prefers to be the big spoon because our mans is a protector, first and foremost, and that’s something that doesn’t change even when he’s sleeping.

If you’re insistent enough, however, he’ll allow you to curl around him on occasion. This will definitely not be a super common occurrence, and he’ll only allow it if you’re in a place that he knows for certain is safe.

(That caveat is more so mean for the yeehaw days, naturally; in a modern au you know he’s got the best security systems that money can buy.)

Again he’s got his habits and he’s loath to break them at this point, but he’s not so stubborn as to be completely inflexible. He understands that compromise is a thing that any healthy relationship needs to survive, and this doesn’t only apply to the big things.

Still, don’t be surprise if you wake up with him curled around your front. He can’t help what his unconscious form gets up to when left to its own devices. After all, it’s in the core of his bones, that need to protect that which he holds most dear.

↠ If he’s by himself he tends to sleep on his back with one arm tossed over his eyes.

As he’s gotten older he’s found that sleep doesn’t come to him quite as quickly as it used to, despite his desperate need of it, so he doesn’t want to take the risk of an errant beam of light waking him early.

The downside to this is the fact that that arm is essentially dead weight for those first few minutes after waking up, and honestly that’s the best of it because the pins-and-needles, static-y feeling that comes with the return of proper blood flow is a bitch.

↠ He definitely prefers a warm room to a colder one when sleeping.

Dude’s up there in age and the last thing he needs is added stiffness in his joints because of the chill.

If it’s modern times he’s gonna keep the thermostat at a steady 70-74 degrees (21-23 °C) depending on the season. If it’s yeehaw days then he’s piling on the blankets until things are suitably toasty.

↠ It should also be said that he snores, but lightly.

Really it’s more like really heavy, drawn out breaths than a true, rumbly snore.

Still, it can get annoying if your sensitive to such things as his preferred positioning usually leaves your heads fairly close together, but it’s something that you’ll probably get used to over time.

Javier Escuella || WC: 600~

↠ Such a romantic, this one. He loves to hold you while you sleep.

He doesn’t particularly care how this happens so long as he’s got you in his arms.

His personal favorite is for you to drift off while facing one another, but he knows this can be a bit claustrophobic so he’s more than willing to entertain other options.

In fact he recognizes that being held while you sleep can be undesirable in general so he’ll definitely avoid playing you so tight if you so wish.

↠ If you’re not likewise inclined he’ll be willing to find a compromise that you can both live with.

He’s got no problem with just throwing an arm or a leg over you but otherwise staying to his side of the bed or any variations thereof—he just wants to be touching you somehow.

However if you’re one of those people that really needs their s p a c e he’ll give it to you, albeit begrudgingly.

Just don’t be surprised if you wake up with him curled around you regardless of how your initial positioning. Much like Best Dad Hosea, dude can’t help what his subconscious drives him to do in his sleep lol.

↠ When he’s alone he’s a side sleeper that likes to cuddle a pillow.

He really hates sleeping on his back as he just doesn’t find it all that comfortable for whatever reason.

The one exception to this is when he naps. The lack of comfort serves as a natural alarm clock that keeps him from oversleeping lol.

↠ He prefers warmer temperatures to colder ones, so if you like to keep a colder room then expect him to pile on the blankets.

In the yeehaw days this obviously works well for him during the warmer months, but come late fall/winter?

Bruh.

Cuddling isn’t an option or a preference then—it’s a gd mandate lol. Luckily you’ll probably be down for it as you’ll be desperate to keep warm as well.

Definitely the type to shove his cold toes and fingers onto various parts of your body to warm them up (and also to annoy you, but whatever lol).

↠ Regardless of if he’s alone or not he sleeps ~nude~

He’s got no shame when it comes to his body, and honestly if you’re at the point where you’re sharing a bed you’re already well acquainted with it, so by his estimation this shouldn’t be an issue.

If your sensibilities are a bit too delicate for this for whatever reason, he’ll put on a pair of boxers (or whatever the ye olde equivalent is) but that’s the most you’re gonna get lol.

While he loves to dress nice, when it comes time to catch some Z’s he doesn’t like being bogged down.

This is a big part of the reason he likes to keep the room on the warmer side when he sleeps; warmer temperatures means lighter blankets and he’s here for that.

He also loves the intimacy that comes from being in such a vulnerable state with someone else. Because of this he’ll encourage you to ditch the PJs as well. There’s absolutely nothing sexual about this request, btw—his love language is physical and sleeping naked with someone is about as close as you can get with them without doing the do.

It’s the combination of trust, love, and intimacy that goes into the act that really does it for him.

Plus sleeping naked is just super liberating/comfortable, in his opinion. It’s a small rebellion against societal norms and we all know that our mans is still a revolutionary at heart no matter the century, so he lives for shit like this lol…

John Marston || WC: 500~

↠ John’s a stomach sleeper whose positioning doesn’t really vary even when he’s sharing a bed.

Doesn’t matter if he’s got company or not, dude’s flopping down on his belly and taking up as much real estate as possible lol.

Yeah he really likes to starfish when he’s alone. It takes a bit for him to break the habit, tho the issues that we’re gonna get to in a second sees him striving to rectify this behavior sooner rather than later.

When he’s not completely spread out he tends to keep his hands tucked under the pillow, but like in a really weird way.

The left one goes under like normal, but he’ll like loop his right arm so that it’s coming over the top of the thing before going under it. So it basically looks like he’s trying to put the pillow in some sort of headlock-type deal lmao.

↠ The most that’ll change if you’re sharing a bed is his flopping an arm over your middle, and even that’ll be removed as the night progresses.

By his estimation all that cutesy, couple-y, cuddly stuff is just not sustainable for an entire night. Limbs grow numb and bodies uncomfortably hot…

He loves being near you, but dammit, he needs his sleep lmao.

If you want to cuddle save it for your waking hours. At least then you don’t have to worry about anyone’s arms going all tingly or getting drooled on.

↠ Like his big brother he runs hot—this is a large part of why he doesn’t really want to get too close while you’re sleeping.

It’s a comfort thing, for both him and you.

He doesn’t even want to be in his own skin when he’s like this so why would he inflict it on you?

…He may also be a bit self-conscious about the amount he sweats, both when he’s awake and asleep, so that also plays a part.

((Me, projecting my hyperhidrosis onto John’s greasy ass? It’s about as likely as you think lmao.))

It doesn’t matter how cold the room is either, he’s still gonna sweat because his body is a traitor like that >.>

Even if you don’t mind the sweat you’re not gonna change his mind about things. He’s super self-conscious about this and no amount of honeyed words is gonna fix that.

In a modern au he may consider getting Botox if the idea is presented to him, tho he’s definitely gonna do his research as he’s heard horror stories about botched applications in the past. He doesn’t think you can fuck up an armpit in the same way you can someone’s face, but with his brand of luck…

↠ He likes to keep the room at a comfortable temperature in modern au’s—i.e. room temperature—as he finds that if it’s too cold he’ll wake up stiff and if it’s too hot his sheets’ll be soaked through.

In the yeehaw days he doesn’t see a point in having a preference as the temperature’s gonna do what it’s gonna do. He just adjusts the amount of blankets accordingly and keeps it moving.

Josiah Trelawny || WC: 600~

↠ Josiah snores like a gd chainsaw—try to change my mind lmao.

Seriously, it’s always the people that are the most put together that have shit like this going on behind the scenes.

Ever since he was a child he struggled with this affliction. His parents wrote it off to the bad allergies that affected both themselves as well as the rest of their children, and while that was part of the problem the actual underlying condition turned out to be far more serious.

Turns out the lot of them had sleep apnea.

I’m p. sure this wasn’t a thing that they fully understood back in the 1890s, so they probably wouldn’t have been diagnosed properly.

↠ If you’re back in the yeehaw days you p. much just have to learn to live with the noise as there’s not much he can do about it, unfortunately.

In modern times we ofc have treatments for the condition, but they’re all pretty involved. So far he’s been getting by with a CPAP, but he hates the device for several reasons and has been considering more invasive solutions.

Tbh there are nights where he just cannot deal with that blasted thing and tries to go without. That… never ends well for anyone involved.

Luckily for him (and you too, honestly) there are some non-surgical procedures that have some promising results.

↠ No matter the century, please don’t tease him about his snoring.

He’s already hella self-conscious about it, and honestly doing His Best to keep it at a minimum.

Even mentioning it in a non-joking manner is pushing it, tbh.

Trust me, he’s already well aware of what he sounds like, and is doing all he can to remedy it—commentary is not needed or wanted.

↠ But unfortunate medical issue aside, he’s a pretty pleasant bed buddy.

↠ It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or not, he’s a side sleeper.

And no matter the date he finds that sleeping on his side is the best way to somewhat mitigate his infernal tendency to snore. Because of this he’s a spooner by default.

Definitely prefers to be the big spoon, but if its modern times and he’s using his CPAP that’s not really comfortable for either of you.

Luckily he doesn’t have any problems with you holding him if you’re that way inclined. He’ll link his fingers with yours and nestle your joined hands against his heart, and ahhhh~ It’s so sweet!

Look, he gets extra soft when he’s sleepy, okay?

↠ He’s a creature of comfort so he likes the temperatures to be adjusted accordingly. If it’s warm out he likes a cooler (but not cold) room, and vis versa for warmer months.

Unfortunately the yeehaw days didn’t allow for many adjustments to a home’s temperature.

This is in part why he loves to travel so much. When he gets tired of one scene he just picks up and moves on.

↠ Another one that likes to sleep nekked as he has a tendency to overheat otherwise.

Despite this he owns a lot of nice silky pajamas because he likes the way they look—and the way you look at him when he’s in them—not to mention the fact that they feel amazing fluttering against his skin.

But the minute it’s time to hit the sack he’s shedding everything before sliding between the sheets.

He can potentially be persuaded to keep on his undies if you’re really adamant, but he’s definitely gonna tease you about it.

That you still have the audacity to have a sense of decorum after you’ve both seen everything the other has to offer is just so cute to him, he cannot with you sometimes…

Doesn’t much care if you choose to sleep nude or not; in his opinion sleep’s all about comfort so you do you boo-boo.

Kieran Duffy || WC: 400~

↠ Oh is it time for bed? *koala mode activated*

↠ So, so clingy, but also so, so cute so it balances out–

–or at least he hopes it does.

You’re… you’re okay with him getting this close right? God he hopes you are, he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s smothering you or needy or anything like that! He just likes being close to you, even when he’s not fully awake to enjoy your presence…

If you’re okay with the snuggly sleeping conditions then please, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, reassure this man.

If you’re not down with being played that tight he totally understands. Just break it to him gently and he’ll be all to ready to switch things up. He’s nothing if not eager to please.

↠ If given the choice he’d like to have you lying on his chest.

There’s just something about that position that screams comfort and trust to him. That you allow him to provide you with the former and entrust him with the latter is just *chef’s kiss*

But like I said, he wants this to be good for you too so he’s willing to fold himself into whatever configuration will best work for you both. He’ll give you as much or as little space as you want/need with no complaints on his part; he’s just happy you’re willing to share a bed with him, tbh.

↠ When he’s alone he curls up into the fetal position, usually hugging a pillow tight to his chest. It’s a comfort thing for him, and idk whether to find this precious or sad, honestly…

↠ Temperature-wise he just wants to be as comfy as possible.

If it’s cold out crank up the heat, if it’s hot turn on the AC.

Naturally these aren’t options in the yeehaw days so instead he’ll open windows and shed clothes or toss logs into the fire and pile on layers as needed.

↠ In modern times he’s definitely the type to turn on a fan and-or an air purifier for white noise.

He p. much keeps the latter on at all times (year-round allergies are a bitch), but sometimes he needs something a bit more substantial. The sound gives his brain something other than his racing thoughts to focus on.

If you can’t deal with the added noise he’s fine with putting on headphones if he needs a sleep aid. Even before you came along he would occasionally pop a pair on so that he could fall asleep to various white noise mixes, so it’s not a problem for him at all.

Leopold Strauss || WC: 600~

↠ Ngl, it takes him a while to get used to sharing a bed.

He’s spent the majority of his life alone so it’s not surprising that it takes him a bit to acclimate to having his space invaded by another person.

Okay, so ‘invaded’ is a harsh word, he knows this. It’s not as if you make him uncomfortable or he thinks you to be a nuisance or anything like that, it’s quite the opposite really. When you’re around it’s as if he’s passed into the eye of the storm that is his life.

If you didn’t have such an effect on him then there’s no way you would’ve gotten to the point where you’re bunking together.

But still everything has an adjustment period, especially something as monumental as this.

↠ Those first few times he’s gonna be stiff as fuck—and I don’t mean that in the fun way lol.

Dude’s p. much doing a spot on impression of a mummy, the only thing that’s missing is the crossed arms. He’s also gonna leave room for Jesus and all twelve of his homies lmfao…

Once he gets used to having you there he’ll move in a bit closer, but he’ll still be p. stiff, so take pity on him and close the gap. He’s so worried about making you uncomfortable that he’ll keep carrying on like this otherwise.

With that hill taken he’ll be open to experimenting with sleeping positions until you find one that’s right for the pair of you.

Personally he’s partial to being the little spoon as he gets cold easily and leeching off of your body heat is so much less taxing than trying to generate his own lol.

↠ When he’s by himself he’s a v. restless sleeper.

He’ll start off on his back only to end up hanging halfway off of the mattress or something else equally weird/uncomfortable.

Being as anxious as he so often is he’s prone to nightmares which is why he moves about so much.

He finds that he sleeps much more soundly with you around tho. Honestly your being in his life has done wonders for his health overall, and he’s forever grateful to you for that.

↠ Due to his health issues he’s p. much always cold so he likes to keep his home on the warmer side of this at all times.

For some reason when he’s sleeping he’s found that he gets even colder so expect to have a grip of blankets on your bed at any given time—doesn’t matter the century or the season.

He’ll remove some if you find it too unbearable, but you better be ready to be his new heat source because he cannot stand to be cold.

↠ In modern times he likes to listen to ASMR videos to get him in the mood to sleep.

A lot of times he finds it hard to get his brain to switch off. Not being one for employing the use of medication until all other option has exhausted he started looking for alternative solutions online, and eventually he stumbled across ASMR videos.

Ngl—at first he was like ‘da fuq??’ but he was desperate and had nothing to lose and so he gave it a go. Five minutes later homie was out like a gd light.

He now swears by the things, and has no shame in telling people he likes them. And honestly he doesn’t get the stigma?

At first glance it can seem a bit odd, yes, but there is documented proof of both the response and its effects on the body. It’s a natural and free high, so why not indulge?

His favorites are scalp massages, fabric scratching, and liquid sounds. His least favorite is inaudible whispers as he finds himself straining to hear what the person is saying which is the opposite of relaxing lol…

Lenny Summers || WC: 500~

↠ This adorable baby giggles in his sleep.

↠ A lot.

↠ You have no idea what it is he’s dreaming of that’s so damn funny, and sadly neither does he—he’s one of those people that rarely remembers his dreams—so it’s destined to remain a mystery to you both.

But that’s fine, you suppose, as the most important part is his cute little sleepy laughs.

Has definitely woke himself up before laughing and it was fucking adorable.

Has also woken you up as well—that was less cute, but like who can stay mad at that face? All it takes is for him to bust out the puppy-dog eyes and nuzzling hugs and all is forgiven.

Usually.

Sometimes more… involved measures are necessary to make amends, and he’s all for that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

↠ When you’re sharing a bed he’s definitely a spooner.

Will never admit to it, but in modern times, before you came along he had a waifu body pillow that he liked to cuddle up with.

No, he did not buy the thing himself. It was a gag gift from Sean (aka the worst bestie/roomie in the world). He’d found his friend hugged up with pillows enough times to figure that a body pillow would make for a nice birthday gift. But Sean being the asshole that he is couldn’t just get him a nice, normal pillow because that would be too much like right lmao…

Anyways!

He prefers to be the little spoon majority of the time, but he isn’t at all opposed to holding you if you’re that way inclined.

When he’s the little spoon he likes to face you. He’s like Arthur in that he’ll burrow down until he can smoosh his face against your chest; he likes to hear your heartbeat, it’s soothing.

When he’s the big spoon he’s doing it for your comfort so lay however you like, he’s down for whatever.

↠ Aside from liking to use a body pillow he was a lot like Sean in that he didn’t have a favored position. Whatever was most comfortable at the time is what he went with when alone.

↠ As far as temperatures go he prefers to be toasty af.

By his estimation you just can’t beat a nice, warm room and a pile of comforters.

Likes to put on white noise vids in modern times; he really likes winter wind/snowstorm sounds or rainy cabin ambiance for this as it adds to the whole ‘tucked away, comfy and safe, from the outside world’ vibe.

But if you like a different sound, or a quiet room altogether he doesn’t mind as the vids are a bonus for him, not a must.

In the yeehaw days he’d still rather be warm than cold. His body just does not handle chilly weather well (Colter was his own personal wintery hell). It’s like his body cannot produce enough heat to sustain him, which leads to muscle aches as his shiver response kicks into overdrive.

So if you’re partying like it’s 1899, fully expect for him to pile on the blankets before curl around you for the whole of the winter—not that that’s a problem at all imo…

Orville Swanson || WC: 400~

↠ Swanson is a rather clingy individual in general.

He knows it, you know it, and you both accept it as a part of your lives lol.

Unsurprisingly this trait carries over into his sleeping habits. Luckily for you he isn’t picky about positions so long as you’re touching one another.

↠ Ideally he’d like to be lying on top of you.

He’s not the biggest man so weight-wise this is usually doable, though various factors can make it uncomfortable for anything long term. He’s well aware of this so he’s more than happy to settle for any alternatives that’ll suit you as well.

Spooning is his second favorite position, though surprisingly enough he wants to be the one doing the holding.

This is his go to when you’ve had a rough day and-or are feeling vulnerable. He knows how comforting it is to be held—hell, you’ve done it for him more times than he can count so how could he not return the favor?

Ngl, it makes him feel strong as fuck when you ask him to hold you. Knowing that you look to him when you’re in need like that is just *chef’s kiss*

Ofc this isn’t to say that he likes to see you hurting in any capacity, but life is never as consistently kind to us as we would like. In such instances he feels so damn honored that you would even think to come to him.

He so often doubts his own strength, but when you rely on him like this it just makes his entire existence go full-on heart eyes…

↠ When alone he mirrors Kieran’s fetal curl perfectly.

*insert ‘They’re the same picture’ meme here* lol.

He would pull the blanket up completely over his head and sleep like that. How he never accidentally suffocated himself is a question for the ages…

↠Temperature-wise he’s all for the cold as he’ll take any excuse to cuddle up closer to you.

This was just as much of a necessity as a want back in the 1890s since heating solutions (aside from fireplaces) weren’t yet a thing.

In modern times, he likes to keep things cozy (I talked about that a lot back in ‘A’) so expect him to pile on the blankets, esp. in the summer when the AC is on. In the winter he likes to keep the heat kinda high so you don’t need quite so many comforters; in fact he prefers to have just one really heavy topper with a couple of thinner sheets underneath it.

↠ He’s a sleep talker, though he mostly sticks to single words. Very polite as well; you hear ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ a lot lol.

Sean MacGuire || WC: 700~

↠ The firebug doesn’t stop talking, even when he’s asleep.

And most of what he’s babbling about doesn’t make a lick of sense. Some of the highlights include:

“Mmmrpfh—ketchup, eat it, sir…” “Fuck-shit, yoooous all!” “Fight me Aragorn, you bitch!” “Tastyyyy breath, tasty…”

((shoutout to all the sleep talkers that I have been forced to live with throughout the years—your mildly annoying quirk has given rise to this foolishness lol))

↠ Aside from that he’s p. basic when it comes to sleeping.

He doesn’t really have a preferred position; he finds the configuration that’s most comfortable at the time and rolls with it.

In the yeehaw days this is a necessity as he rarely had the opportunity to sleep on a decent bed—or really any bed at all. Lbr, the junior members’ digs could be considered bootleg sleeping bags at best. Pallets and threadbare sheets are the norm, making comfort more of a distant concept than anything.

In modern times things aren’t much better because he’s a broke ass college student. He’s p. sure that the mattresses back in the dorms were left over from the 80s, and the one he’s been forced to buy for himself since moving off-campus feels like it’s made completely out of cardboard.

Seriously—he would not be surprised if he cut that bitch open and found leftover toilet paper tubes instead of springs and flattened off-brand cereal boxes where padding should be.

With options like these comfort becomes relative and being picky is a waste of time, ya know?

↠ When he’s with a partner he finds that sleeping on his side is usually the most comfortable option.

More specifically he’s a spooner. This isn’t done out of any lovey-dovey reasons, but rather because he doesn’t want to take a stray elbow or knee during the night lol. If he’s molded around your back (or vice versa, he’s not picky about that) then the risk is greatly mitigated.

The biggest problem with this is that leaves your heads p. close together so you’re gonna get to hear all of his one-sided convos with that good 4K clarity lmao.

↠ He’s p. flexible when it comes to temperatures.

He’s like John in that he doesn’t see the point in fighting against it during the yeehaw days (though unlike the older man he is more opt to complain about it) and in modern times he can adjust the thermostat/amount of blankets he uses.

If you like to keep the room super cold he’s gonna sleep with his socks on. And only his socks.

He once heard it said that the human body vents most of its heat through the top of the head, the hands, and the feet. Sleeping with a hat and gloves on would just be weird, yeah? But socks are totally acceptable.

Naturally he could keep the rest of his clothes on, but why would he deprive you of the majesty that is his body?

Less clothes means its way easier for the two of you to get it in should the want arise, and Sean’s all about taking the easy route whenever possible lol. Ofc he’ll encourage you to join in the fun, but if you’re not down he gets it, that nudist life isn’t for everyone, tho with a body like yours he doesn’t get why you don’t want to show more of it.

Doesn’t matter what you’ve got going on he thinks you’re sex on legs, so maybe it’s actually better if you do stay clothed—if you were on display at all times nothing but you would ever get done lol.

↠ On that note, I can totally see him as being one of those roommates that walks around naked from time to time.

Lenny has seen his dick so many times at this point that he doesn’t even blink.

Some may say that he’s taking the whole ‘be comfortable in your own skin’ thing a bit too far, but this is Sean we’re talking about here—he could always take things further so don’t tempt him lmao.

He will grudgingly put on some bottoms if you’re really insistent, though he doesn’t see what the big deal is.

Like he’s already been balls deep in damn near every hole you’ve got so why get shy now?? But you’re his baby and he always wants you to feel comfortable so if you need him to put Cú Chulainn away then he will.

((this jackass named his junk after an Irish demigod because of course he did lmao))

Simon Pearson || WC: 500~

↠ Another one who takes a bit to adjust to sharing a bed.

↠ The process isn’t nearly as involved as it is with Strauss, but it is annoying lol.

He’s not nervous about having you there at all, in fact he’s overjoyed to finally be sharing a bed with his sweetheart!

However, comma, once he’s knocked out he forgets you’re there and either rolls on top of you or kicks you or nudges you out of the bed lmao.

He’s so used to not having to take another body into account that he just doesn’t. It isn’t until he hears you yell and-or feels the retaliatory pillow strike that he remembers you’re there.

Ngl, this asshole’s gonna be laughing his ass off as he apologizes. What? It’s not his fault that you look so damn cute when you’re full of sleepy, yet indignant rage.

This’ll probably go on for a week or so before he finally stops assaulting you in your sleep lol. If you want to rectify things sooner insist on spooning. If he’s holding you from the start his brain’ll register your existence and you’ll stop falling victim to various rude awakenings.

Trying to be the big spoon yourself isn’t advisable at this juncture as there’s a good chance he’ll roll on top of you again and that’s the opposite of what you want.

↠ Once he’s gotten used to having you there he’ll find that his favorite position to sleep in is actually back to back.

Spooning’s okay for cuddles, but he finds it to be a bit uncomfortable when he’s trying to sleep. When you’re back to back, however, he can breathe freely and move about a bit more without having to worry about waking you.

Plus homie’s an ass man, so having your cheeks smooshed against his is a definite plus. Ofc spooning gives him this advantage as well, but at least this way he doesn’t have to worry about noticeably chubbing out on you when that isn’t the vibe lol.

↠ When he’s alone he usually sleeps on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes and the other across his middle.

↠ He’s also a snorer, tho it’s on the softer side. It only gets loud when he’s either extremely tired, sleeping off his drunk, or coming down with something.

↠ Pearson’s a big dude that puts out a lot of heat so naturally he likes a colder room if at all possible.

He keeps a comforter scrunched down at the bottom of the bed so that it’s within reach should he need it, but he rarely does.

Once you come along the pair of you will have to work together to find a temperature/blanket configuration that you can both live with.

If it’s the yeehaw days idk what to tell either of you as you can’t adjust the temperature much.

He doesn’t mind it if the pair of you have to migrate to completely opposite sides of the bed, or hell even if you have to sleep separately on occasion. Sleep’s such a precious commodity that he won’t begrudge you doing what you gotta do to indulge in it comfortably.

Uncle || WC: ~300

↠ The OG strong cuddler, Uncle’s gonna trap your ass into an embrace that you’ll have an extremely hard time escaping.

He’ll pull you into him—heedless of positioning for the most part, tho if you say something he’ll give you a chance to get comfortable—and then knock out and you’re p. much stuck that way until morning.

Seriously, he is way stronger than he looks, but I covered this back in ‘A’ so let’s move on.

↠ When he’s alone he tends to pass out whenever, wherever, and however he pleases.

What can I say—dude loves his sleep. Doesn’t matter what century he’s in, if he wants to catch some Z’s he’s gonna go for it right then and there.

Like Charles he’s given to sleeping like dead man so even if the positioning isn’t all that comfortable it isn’t much a deterrent or detriment to him.

Well providing it doesn’t trigger the ~L um BA g O~, tho if he’s drunk and-or tired enough he won’t even take that much into consideration.

↠ Temperatures don’t bother him much either, tho his back does tend to flare up in colder conditions.

Despite his lack of hard preferences he’d be lying if he said he didn’t prefer to avail himself to a nice, comfy bed.

Positions still aren’t a thing that he’s fussed over, in fact he’s got more freedom to sprawl in a bed as the whole darned thing’s comfortable.

On that note it should also be said that he’s another one that likes to let his limbs stretch out. This is only when he’s alone of course; when he’s got company he’ll get on his good WWE shit as previously established lol.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan hc #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson hc #charles smith x reader #charles smith hc #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde hc #hosea matthews x reader #hosea matthews hc #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella hc #john marston x reader #john marston hc #josiah trelawny x reader #josiah trelawny hc #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy hc #leopold strauss x reader #leopold strauss hc #lenny summers x reader #lenny summers hc #orville swanson x reader #orville swanson hc #sean macguire x reader #sean macguire hc #simon pearson x reader #simon pearson hc #uncle (rdr) x reader

[notepadsandtealeaves]

a thot’s thoughts 💦 || a thirsty ass m.list

status: ongoing || last updated: 1/20

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

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

💦 THIS IS NOT A PLACE FOR MINORS. i know you little shits never listen, but that won’t stop me from saying it. 💦 everything i write is poc friendly! 💦 unless otherwise specified, all works are written with a gender neutral reader. 💦 all characters within are whole ass adults (i.e. at least 18, but usually in their 20s). 💦 this is a multi-fandom list. fandoms include: hq, rdr, with more to come! 💦 links under the cut so as not to clutter up your blog/dash.

the volleybaes || haikyuu!!

note: works are posted in alphabetical order by character.

asahi a. || nsfw abcs

…pls, sir, i’m begging you—unchain my gd heart, you’re not even REAL i cannot be down this bad for a 2D anime man, please…

let me love you, mister azumane…

work type: (really long) hcs

cws/tws: various; peep the in story notes for any applicable warnings

reader gender: neutral

additional characters: n/a

summary: tbh it’s literally just me lusting after mister azumane for 26 letters lol

total wc: 17.3k~

💦 links: tumblr | ao3

asahi a. || …pants on fire

“be my safety blanket?”

though the words seem innocent enough the way his hand squeezes at your hip says otherwise…

in which you and your lover find a way to keep the bad dreams at bay.

work type: a cute lil nsfw one-shot

cws/tws: various; peep the in story note for the thirst tags

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

additional characters: n/a

summary: in which you and your lover find a way to keep the bad dreams at bay. || sequel to liar, liar…

total wc: 3.3-3.5k

💦 links: f!reader | gn!reader | m!reader | ao3

k. bokuto || say my name

“i know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

he’ll get what he wants—even if he has to fuck it out of you…

work type: one shot

cws/tws: various; peep the in story notes for any applicable warnings

reader gender: neutral

additional characters: n/a

summary: you ever just want bo to bully you a bit as he snaps your spine like a glow stick, but like in a low-key loving way? because same.

total wc: 2.3k~

💦 links: tumblr | ao3

various hq characters || a bit of random hq thirst

i would say ‘no thoughts, head empty’, but head is v. full of whoreknee thoughts about some of my favorite hq boys…

nothing much, just short lil bits of thirst.

work type: lil thirst stimulating imagines

cws/tws: no real warnings, but peep the in story notes for specifics

reader gender: neutral

characters: asahi a. | h. iwaizumi | i. matsukawa | t. aone | k. bokuto | daichi s. | s. meian

summary: i woke up parched and this was the result lol

total wc: 1.8k~

💦 links: tumblr | ao3

the yeehaws || red dead redemption

note: works are posted in alphabetical order by character.

also—at current, all works are javier-centric and all links lead to my main blog where these works were originally posted.

javier e. || nsfw abcs

dear mister escuella, please be real.

sincerely, a simp

no seriously. i’m gonna need you to get on that shit.

work type: long hcs accompanied by ficlets (and occasionally full length works)

cws/tws: various; peep the in story note for any applicable warnings

reader gender: mostly neutral, tho there are a few with f! and m!reader options as well

additional characters: n/a

summary: these are ultimately my attempts to better understand javier as a character through sex and intimacy, so expect just as much exposition as thirst.

total wc: ~69k ((nice lmao))

💦 links: tumblr | ao3

javier e. || what you want, what you need

“oh fuck you, escuella.”

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

((the ‘papi’ use is meant to be sarcastic, ffs lmao…))

work type: one shot

cws/tws: it’s been a hot minute since i last read this, but from what i remember (there might be other stuff that isn’t listed here, so please be mindful as you read)… delayed orgasm, light bdsm, slight ropeplay maybe??, spanking, praise kink, slight voice kink, rough sex

reader gender: f! and m!reader options as this was written long ago; but i plan on doing a rewrite so a neutral reader is in the works!

additional characters: n/a

summary: a modern au in which javi’s s/o gets a little too hands-y at a party. in return he’ll make sure that they get what they deserve before they get what they need.

total wc: 4.8-5.5k

💦 links: f!reader | m!reader | ao3

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021-2022 || please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. and for the love of god keep it away from youtube and tiktok lol…

#finally made a post for all my smut pieces--/you're welcome/ lmao #((Immy does fan fiction: The Volleybaes)) #((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #((💦 posts)) #my masterlists

[notepadsandtealeaves]

from the van der linde boys, with love 💌

vde 2021 m.list

status: complete

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

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

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

♡ it’s exactly what it sounds like lol. just cute/heartfelt letters from the boys to their sweethearts.

♡ these, like p. much everything i write these days, are written with a gender neutral reader.

♡ all fills are poc friendly!

♡ there’s nothing particularly spicy in these, but as i stated above, this is an 18+ blog so if minors (i.e. anyone that’s not at this exact moment 18 or above) could steer clear that’d be great.

♡ links under the cut so as not to clutter up your dash/blog.

|| arthur morgan

yours in every way imaginable || wc: ~600

i love you, ____, so damn much, and that’s every day of, well forever. baby, you’ve got me—from now until the end of my days—so do with me what you will.

he doesn’t know how he got you, but he’s damn sure gonna do everything in his power to keep you…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| bill williamson

with love from your man || wc: 200~

i love you more than i ever thought it was possible to love anyone, you truly are my better half. i don’t know what else to say besides that, but then again i don’t think there really is anything else to be said.

sometimes he thinks that he loves you more than what even he knows…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| charles smith

with love from your man || wc: 300

you’re a gift to me, love, a treasure most precious and rare…

even when he doesn’t say it you know how much he loves you, how much he cares…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| dutch van der linde

loving you more than you can ever fully know || wc: ~400

thank you for giving this to me, sweetheart, this promise of a hundred thousand beautiful tomorrows.

the depth of his love can only ever be matched by the grandiose way in which he shows it…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| hosea matthews

loving you, now and forever || wc: ~400

you have breathed life back into constricted lungs, ____, have given me a renewed sense of purpose. if loving you is what i am now meant for it is a commission that i gladly accept and i’ll consider the whole of my days well spent.

he’s more than content to spend his life loving you…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| javier escuella

loving all of you with all of me || wc: ~500

if you’ve ever thought you saw me pinching myself, you probably did, haha. a little ridiculous, maybe, but can you blame me when everyday with you feels like some sort of waking dream? i don’t think so, i don’t think so at all…

loving you is like a dream, one that he never wants to wake from…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| john marston

yours || wc: ~500

if you’ve ever thought you saw me pinching myself, you probably did, haha. a little ridiculous, maybe, but can you blame me when everyday with you feels like some sort of waking dream? i don’t think so, i don’t think so at all…

his love for you is simple and honest, plain and true…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| josiah trelawny

ever your partner in love, life, and crime || wc: 500~

you’re a hard person to escape, weaving your webs as beautifully as you have, not that i would ever want to be free of you.

in you he’s found not just his equal, but the other half of his heart.

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| kieran duffy

loving you so very, very much || wc: 500~

having the honor of calling you my own… it still feels like a dream, honestly, but if i am indeed asleep then i never want to wake.

having you in his arms is better than anything he could ever dream up…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| leopold strauss

yours, truly || wc: ~700

…one thing that is fixed and forever true is my love for you. even eons after this day, when all has been reduced to ash and rubble, and we ourselves returned to cosmic matter this one fact will never change. even if i have been robbed of every sense i have, my sentience stripped away, i know that i would know this—that i would know you—because you’re a part of me, ____.

when it comes to words he oftentimes finds himself at a loss, but for you he will try…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| lenny summers

forever yours || wc: 800~

i am fully convinced that the day i met you your presence touched me in some profound way, altered me in a way i can’t quite explain, and i could not be happier.

you’ve changed me, ____—irrevocably and for the better, and i can’t help but to love you just that little bit more for it.

for him life is all about the ebb and flow of change, but you’re the one constant he wants to hold on to…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| orville swanson

loving you from the very depths of my soul || wc: 500~

____, my dearest, most precious love… being with you has shown me that i can feel deeply without being completely overwhelmed by my desires, that i can want—and more importantly, have—as much of you and this love we share as i want without shame, that it is okay to be selfish when it comes to you, to us…

there is no iniquity to be found in loving you this deeply and fully, of this he’s sure…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| sean macguire

yours forever and ever etc. || wc: 500~

i’m used to the ebb and flow of life; both things and people have a tendency to come and go like the tide, leaving behind very few constants, but you… you… you’re something exceptional, always have been from the very start.

he may hate the day, but he loves the hell outta you…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| simon pearson

your most devoted lover || wc: 500~

i just cannot seem to help the swell of feelings i get whenever i so much as think about you, love. with you everything seems to come easier. my laughter and smiles, contentment and peace, just—everything.

though he finds most people’s reactions to the holiday to be a bit much, that won’t stop him from spoiling his lover…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| uncle

yours, always and forever || wc: 300~

you’re as sharp as you are sweet, proud and beautiful and one of the most giving souls i’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing… you’re so much more than what i ever expected to get out of this life, and certainly a sight more than what i deserve.

there’s no sweeter a story than the one you’re writing together…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#my masterlists #((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson imagine #charles smith x reader #charles smith imagine #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde imagine #hosea matthews x reader #hosea matthews imagine #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella imagine #john marston x reader #john marston imagine #josiah trelawny x reader #josiah trelawny imagine #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy imagine #leopold strauss x reader #leopold strauss imagine #lenny summers x reader #lenny summers imagine #orville swanson x reader #orville swanson imagine #sean macguire x reader #sean macguire imagine #simon pearson x reader #simon pearson imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

rdr 2 relationship abcs, men-folk edition m.list

updated: 1/19/21 || status: on hiatus

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

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

♡ this time around we’re steadily working our way through the relationship abcs.

♡ all hcs feature a gender neutral reader.

♡ all hcs are poc friendly!

♡ these aren’t being done in order because i’m writing them as inspiration strikes.

♡ will cover all of the van der linde boahs, sans micah because i’m not overly fond of him (though if you are more power to ya!)

♡ links under the cut so as not to clutter up your dash.

activity || what is their favorite activity to do with you?

song selection: “better together” by jack johnson

♡ tumblr || ao3

beginnings || how do they act in the beginning of a relationship?

♡ tumblr || ao3

communication || are they good communicators? how do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues?

song selection: “funkytown” by lipps inc.

♡ tumblr || ao3

drunk || what are they like when they’re drunk?

song selection: “drunk” by ed sheeran

♡ tumblr || ao3

emergency || how are they in emergency situations? (you get hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc.)

♡ tumblr || ao3

free spot || i’ll give you any headcanon i come up with.

♡ tumblr || ao3

gifts || what kind of gifts do they give? what kind of gifts do they get?

♡ tumblr || ao3

hugs || how do they show affection/cuddle?

♡ tumblr || ao3

irritation || what is something that irritates them? how do they show their irritation?

♡ tumblr || ao3

jackpot || how would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?

♡ tumblr || ao3

kryptonite || what is their ultimate weakness?

♡ tumblr || ao3

laughter || what makes them laugh?

♡ tumblr || ao3

morning || how do they wake up in the morning? are they a morning person or a morning grouch?

♡ tumblr || ao3

needy || when do they feel particularly needy? how do they show it?

♡ tumblr || ao3

oasis || where is their happy place? where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?

♡ tumblr || ao3

pain || how do they handle pain? how do they handle when you are in pain?

♡ tumblr || ao3

quote || what’s a quote that fits them and your relationship?

♡ tumblr || ao3

reunion || how do they celebrate seeing you after a long time of being apart?

♡ tumblr || ao3

stress || what stresses them out? how do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?

♡ tumblr || ao3

terror || what are they afraid of?

♡ tumblr || ao3

unique || what is a quirk that is unique to them?

♡ tumblr || ao3

violence || do they fight a lot? are they a good fighter? what is their fighting style?

♡ tumblr || ao3

wow || what is something they do that you wouldn’t expect?

♡ tumblr || ao3

xylophone || do they have any musical talent? can they sing?

♡ tumblr || ao3

yucky || is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?

♡ tumblr || ao3

zzz’s || what are their sleeping habits (both with and without you)?

song selection: “all i have to do is dream” by the everly brothers

♡ tumblr || ao3

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((immy does fan fiction: the yeehaws)) #my masterlists #arthur morgan hc #arthur morgan x reader #bill williamson hc #bill williamson x reader #charles smith hc #charles smith x reader #dutch van der linde hc #dutch van der linde x reader #hosea matthews hc #hosea matthews x reader #javier escuella hc #javier escuella x reader #john marston hc #john marston x reader #josiah trelawny hc #josiah trelawny x reader #kieran duffy hc #kieran duffy x reader #leopold strauss hc #leopold strauss x reader #lenny summers hc #lenny summers x reader #orville swanson hc #orville swanson x reader #sean macguire hc #sean macguire x reader #simon pearson hc #simon pearson x reader

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Kieran Duffy x GN!Reader in: Loving You So Very, Very Much

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

Having the honor of calling you my own… It still feels like a dream, honestly, but if I am indeed asleep then I never want to wake.

Having you in his arms is better than anything he could ever dream up…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: 500~

|| Loving You So Very, Very Much

To my dearest love,

Happy Valentine’s, honey! 

Can you believe it’s that time of the year already? Well, I mean you’ve probably been anticipating it given the state of the stores, but still… Regardless, this is hands down one of my favorite holidays—I mean a day dedicated to love? How can you not love it, at least a little bit?

Even when I couldn’t celebrate it ‘properly’ I still always made sure to do a little something special for those that I care for as well as myself. Don’t get me wrong, I always made sure to show my appreciation year round, but there’s nothing wrong with doing a little something extra every now and then, I think. Also having been… umm, let’s say exceptionally single for a long while I was well versed in the struggle of spending the day alone and being very much made aware of your relationship status because of it. That was a big motivator for me, I must admit. I’ve always had a lot of love to give and I had to let it out somehow, you know?

What am I saying? Of course you know. How could you not? It’s not like I’m any good at hiding just how bad I got it for you, not that I would ever want to…

You’ve given me so many things for which I’m extremely grateful, but the one that’s on my mind at the moment is our being able to celebrate this lovely holiday together. I honestly never thought that I would get this. In truth I had resigned myself to being a bachelor for the whole of my days—which isn’t to say I was happy about it, mind, but I had accepted it as a very real possibility. But then you came alone and shattered my dismal expectations to pieces. Having the honor of calling you my own… It still feels like a dream, honestly, but if I am indeed asleep then I never want to wake.

I love you, ____. More than words could ever hope to express. Honestly I don’t think I know how to love anyone else—I don’t want to learn how to love anyone else, not like this.

You’re my heart, my soul, my passion, my everything, really. It’s kind of scary, being wrapped up so completely in another person, but at the same time I know I couldn’t be in better hands. You make me feel so safe, honey—safe and loved and cherished and… God, I can only hope that I’m returning it all to you a hundredfold.

I try my best to express the depths of my love to you every day, but like I said before, Valentine’s Day gives me reason to go the extra mile. That said I do have plans for the day (all flexible, so don’t worry about that) as well as a gift or two (or, well five as is actually the case) lined up. Ahh, I’m so excited for today, baby! We’re gonna have so much fun, I’m sure of it!!

Loving you so very, very much, Kieran ♡

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy x gn!reader #kieran duffy x gender neutral reader #kieran duffy imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

John Marston x GN!Reader in: Yours

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

If you’ve ever thought you saw me pinching myself, you probably did, haha. A little ridiculous, maybe, but can you blame me when everyday with you feels like some sort of waking dream? I don’t think so, I don’t think so at all…

His love for you is simple and honest, plain and true…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: ~500

|| Yours

To my baby,

I’m gonna level with you here—I don’t know what an actual angel like you wants with an ornery ol’ bastard like me, but shit, if you’re not inclined to leave then I won’t make you.

I know that I’m not the easiest man to like most days, never mind love, but you manage to do both with what seems like very little effort. Seeing as how I myself have trouble with that from time to time you’re gonna have to teach me your secrets. But that’s all a bit darker and heavier than what I’m going for here, so I’ll move on.

It’s Valentine’s Day, aka Manufactured Love Day—can you tell it’s not my favorite holiday? There’s just something about the whole thing that rubs me the wrong way, but being with you makes the day a helluva lot more bearable. I know you said we don’t have to do anything, and I also know that you said that for my sake more than anything. You’re too good to me baby, way better than what I deserve honestly, and you shouldn’t have to always make concessions just because I’m, well me. Compromise works both ways, after all.

So in the spirit of loving you right and proper I’ve got a few things planned for the day. It’s nothing major, just a nice lunch in town, a gift, and this letter. Other than the lunch there’s no set plans so the day is ours to do with as we please. The time before and after can be spent however you want, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have… ideas as to what we can do with it…

Like I said it’s not much, and I thought about doing more, but I didn’t want to come off as… insincere? I guess? I felt like trying too hard would send the wrong message, you know? I’m a simple man, always have been, always will be, and my affections run along the same lines. In a way I think that’s better because if nothing else you always know where you stand with me. That said, I don’t think I’ve properly told you that I love you yet, so–

____, I love you. So, so much. I don’t know if I say that enough, but I’ll be better about it in the future, I promise.

That’s what you do to me, you make me want to be better, and that’s a gift I’ll never be able to repay in full, I know, but that won’t stop me from trying every day. I know that you’ll tell me that my loving you in return is more than enough, and maybe it is, but that just means all my other efforts are all added bonuses and who doesn’t want more of a good thing?

Alright, this is starting to get long and I’ve said all that really needs saying so I’ll end things here.

Yours, John

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #john marston x reader #john marston x gn!reader #john marston x gender neutral reader #john marston x you #john marston imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: Loving All of You With All of Me

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

If you’ve ever thought you saw me pinching myself, you probably did, haha. A little ridiculous, maybe, but can you blame me when everyday with you feels like some sort of waking dream? I don’t think so, I don’t think so at all…

Loving you is like a dream, one that he never wants to wake from…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: ~500

|| Loving All of You With All of Me

Translations: ♡ Mi amor—my love ♡ Mi sol, mi vida, mi alma—my sun, my life, my soul.

Mi amor,

On a day most wonderful, but ultimately steeped in clichés I decided to go with a gesture that’s less of a personal cliché. But don’t you worry—my writing this letter does not mean that you won’t be getting all the songs, gifts, surprises, and general romantic gestures that I can dole out over a twenty-four hour period. This isn’t at all meant to be a replacement, but rather a bonus.

So what can I say in this letter that I don’t make sure to tell you every single day? Honestly I don’t think there is anything that I haven’t told you at this point. You’re a part of me, amor—bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. I’ve never been this close to somebody before, and I have to say it is… amazing.

You are amazing.

I have experienced love in many forms over the years—romantic, platonic, familial—but as vivid and real and true as those experiences were they all pale in comparison to what we have. Before you I knew what it was like to be in love, and while my affections ran deep even then it was ultimately a juvenile endeavor, one that pales in comparison to what I have with you. It’s almost as if our love is a living entity. It’s a presence that makes itself known in every kiss traded, every word of devotion spoken, every trailing glance spared… It’s as alive and vibrant as you yourself are. Mi sol, mi vida, mi alma…

God, I just, I absolutely adore you, ____.

Having you in my life has made it so much better in so many ways. Even if we would’ve just stayed friends that would have been enough, so to have you as my love is just…

Wonderful. Magnificent. And a little hard to believe sometimes, if I’m being totally honest.

If you’ve ever thought you saw me pinching myself, you probably did, haha. A little ridiculous, maybe, but can you blame me when everyday with you feels like some sort of waking dream? I don’t think so, I don’t think so at all…

This isn’t the longest letter, I know, but if I were to say anything more at this point I’d just be repeating myself—well more than I already have. Like I said, I always make sure to tell you every day just how much I love you, and that’s never gonna change. I mean how could it when that love grows bigger and stronger and more all-consuming with every minute that passes?

As for the rest of my plans for the day, I hope you’re ready to be spoiled rotten, amor. I’ve got a number of things lined up, but of course it’s ultimately up to you what we get into. At the end of the day I’m just happy to spend time with my baby—that’s all the gift I need.

Loving all of you with all of me, Javi ♡

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x gn!reader #javier escuella x gender neutral reader #javier escuella x you #javier escuella imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

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

status: complete

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

|| rdr vde (gents) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

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

♡ it’s exactly what it sounds like lol. just cute/heartfelt letters from the ladies to their sweethearts.

♡ these, like p. much everything i write these days, are written with a gender neutral reader.

♡ all fills are poc friendly!

♡ there’s nothing particularly spicy in these, but as i stated above, this is an 18+ blog so if minors (i.e. anyone that’s not at this exact moment 18 or above) could steer clear that’d be great.

♡ links under the cut so as not to clutter up your dash/blog.

|| abigail roberts

loving you with all that i am || wc: ~800

hundreds upon hundreds of languages have given us thousands upon thousands of words, and yet i don’t think there’s one that could ever hope to fully explain just how much you mean to me

she’s found that loving you is like coming home…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| karen jones

with love (and lust) || wc: 500~

i call you my lover all the time, but ____ you’re so much more than that—you’re my love.

i thought i knew what that word meant, what it felt like, but i was so wrong. nothing makes my heart race and thoughts stutter and knees weak like you do. you’re just so… i don’t know if i have the words to actually describe you, actually, but perfect maybe-sorta-kinda-definitely works.

love is a strange and new thing for miss jones…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| mary-beth gaskill

yours in heart and mind, body and soul || wc: ~600

i love you, ____, so much. i know that i say that all the time, but it can’t hurt to hear it again (and again and again), right?

i love you, and thank you for giving me the storybook romance that i always dreamed of. 

even though the path was lined with heartache, it was worth it because it led to you…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| molly o’shea

loving you with all of me || wc: 1k~

in learning how to truly love myself i found something just as precious in you. ____, my love, you are everything i’ve ever wanted, needed, but never even knew to ask for. kindness and patience and caring and so many, many more lovely things that i would run out of ink before i could even list a quarter of them.

in finding herself, she’s found something just as precious in you…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| sadie adler

loving you from now nntil eternity’s end || wc: 700~

you mean more to me than you’ll ever know. i try to show it as much as i can, but all the sweet words and acts of love in the world could never fully express all that i feel for you. my heart’s so damn full with all of this love and care towards you that sometimes it feels as if it’s literally gonna burst from it all.

her words may be clumsy, but they’re all the purer for it…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| susan grimshaw

always yours || wc: ~600

i never expected you to take on such a fundamental roll in my life, and i certainly wasn’t ready for all that you entail. you’ve awakened parts of me that i’d thought long since atrophied, and the feeling is… indescribable, you are indescribable.

your love is one she never expected to have…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

|| tilly jackson

with lots (and lots and lots) of love || wc: 500~

i want to sigh wistfully as i curl up deeper into your warmth while we watch the rain fall through the window; to giggle like children as we putter around in the kitchen, making more mess than food; to dance under the stars, and wander aimlessly though bookstores and antique shops, and kiss you deeply in front of the whole of the watching world. i want all that silly, stupidly sweet stuff and i want it with you, baby.

your love is something fit for a screen…

♡ links: tumblr || ao3

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#my masterlists #((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #abigail roberts x reader #abigail roberts imagine #karen jones x reader #karen jones imagine #mary-beth gaskill x reader #mary-beth gaskill imagine #molly o'shea x reader #molly o'shea imagine #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler imagine #susan grimshaw x reader #susan grimshaw imagine #tilly jackson x reader #tilly jackson imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader in: With All the Love That My Frame Can Muster

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

I love you, ____, so damn much, and that’s every day of, well forever. Baby, you’ve got me—from now until the end of my days—so do with me what you will.

He doesn’t know how he got you, but he’s damn sure gonna do everything in his power to keep you…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: ~600

|| With All the Love That My Frame Can Muster

Little Darlin’,

We both know that writing ain’t my strong suit, but you’re worth trying for, that’s for damn sure.

So it’s February 14th yet again, and we all know what that means. Honestly I have pretty mixed feelings about Valentine’s Day, but one thing I’m certain on is you and what you deserve—which is, of course, every good thing this world has to offer. This holiday is mass produced all to be damned, but there is some nice takeaways to be had. For instance it gives me leave to spoil you rotten and you just have to take it. Don’t worry though, I didn’t go too overboard this time; just got you a few lil’ whatnots, a nice drawing (made by yours truly, naturally), and this letter.

If I had the great misfortune of not timing things right you’re reading this in front of me and I’m all types of red, ain’t I? That’s just because I know I’m about to get real emotional in this and well… I don’t know, there’s just something about penning this that leaves my cheeks burning something fierce. Guess I shouldn’t be too surprised though—you’ve always had a way of flustering me.

In all honesty I don’t know how we got to this point. Now don’t get me wrong, darlin’, I’m damn glad that we did, but… I won’t say that that you could do so much better because I know how you feel about that type of talk, so I’ll just say that I’m the luckiest son of a you-know-what there is.

____, baby, you’re amazing. There isn’t a single thing about you that I don’t love—from the good to the bits that you think less so. It’s all great because it’s all a part of you. We’re all just the sum of our parts, after all, and you can’t have the good without the bad. We both know this, and that’s a big part of why we work so well together, I think. We see the flaws, and while we know better than to excuse the worst of them, we just get it, ya know? We know what to work around and what needs to be faced up front; we’ve learned how to cover each other without it being an issue, to fill in those places where the other is lacking…

Am I making sense? I hope I am, but even if I’m not, I’m sure you know exactly what it is I’m trying to say. That’s one of the things I love about you most, you’ve always understood me, better than I even understand myself at times. You’re always so tender with me, so kind and good, even when I don’t feel like I deserve it… You give me so much, and I can only hope that I’m giving it all back to you in kind. I hope that you know that even when I screw up I’m always trying my best—for you, for us. I’ll fight to the last to protect what we have together, darlin’, just like I know you will.

I love you, ____, so damn much, and that’s every day of, well forever. Baby, you’ve got me—from now until the end of my days—so do with me what you will.

Okay, I think that’s enough mush from me. Hope you were able to stomach it all, haha. I’ll wrap this up now so we can finish up our date…

With all the love that my frame can muster, Arthur

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #ugh i just love this dork so much #anyways... #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine

[thepuckishrogue]

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

NSFW ABCs || Q is for ‘Quickies’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…and wake up slow~♪ || WC: ~1.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff at that. “No. I. Don’t.”

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

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

“I’m listening…”

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

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

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

“I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then pleasure is breaking over you like a wave.

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

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

“Now about my breakfast.”

“Of course, amor, I didn’t forget–”

“Un-huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#javier escuella x reader #javier escuella x m!reader #javier escuella x male reader #((immy does fan fiction: the yeehaws)) #queue-tie pie

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Susan Grimshaw x GN!Reader in: Always Yours

From the van der Linde Ladies, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (gents) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

I never expected you to take on such a fundamental roll in my life, and I certainly wasn’t ready for all that you entail. You’ve awakened parts of me that I’d thought long since atrophied, and the feeling is… indescribable, you are indescribable.

Your love is one she never expected to have…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: ~600

|| Always Yours

To my dear one,

Though I know it may not seem like it, I’m actually a woman of few words. Unfortunately the questionable company we keep so enjoys pretending to be hard of hearing, so I find myself in the frustrating position of having to repeat things more often than not; if not for that I would say what needs saying and be done with it. It’s not like there’s much in this life of mine that’s worth waxing poetic over anyway—well aside from you, that is.

I won’t lie to you, honey, love is one of those things I’d given up on. My reasons for this weren’t cynical, however, but rather sentimental. I’d experienced it in several forms throughout the years, with the culmination of it all being with the one I lost before his time. By then I had loved and been loved in fullness and in truth, and though I could have stood to have held on to it for many years yet I learned to be content with what I had. It’s not as if I were alone, after all. I had—have—well over a dozen children, grown though they appear to be, to look after and they keep both my heart and hands full. I found my fulfillment in helping them along and watching them work at building lives and relationships of their own. It was a fine trade-off, all things considered, as they got up to more than enough to make living vicariously through them an interesting experience.

I had my love, my family and my friends, but the universe had one last surprise in store for me it seems.

I never expected you to take on such a fundamental roll in my life, and I certainly wasn’t ready for all that you entail. You’re so much in some ways (but never too much, don’t you worry yourself about that), and in others you can be a shrinking violet. It’s an odd, but beautiful dichotomy that you hold within yourself, my dear, and I can’t help but to love you all the more for it. You’ve awakened parts of me that I’d thought long since atrophied, and the feeling is… indescribable, you are indescribable.

____, you are one of the loveliest, most kind-hearted people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I’m so glad that you’ve allowed me to share this love with you.

Now that you’ve taken your place in my life I’m not entirely sure that I could ever go back to the way things were before. I suppose it’s a good thing then that I’ll never have to.

Always yours, Susan

P.S.: I got so caught up in things that I nearly forgot what this letter what supposed to be about. Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear! I know you said you wanted to spoil me for a change—and the sentiment is very much appreciated, truly—but that didn’t stop me from getting you a gift. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you open it, it’s sure to be amusing if nothing else. Bet that’s left you curious, but you’ll just have to wait until we get to the gift-giving portion of whatever it is you have planned.

(Though if you’re sweet enough I could possibly be convinced to give it to you sooner…) 

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#it's FINALLY doneeeeeeeeee yaaaaaaaaaassssssss lmao #((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #susan grimshaw x reader #susan grimshaw x gn!reader #susan grimshaw x gender neutral reader #susan grimshaw imagine

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Charles Smith x GN!Reader in: With Love

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

You’re a gift to me, love, a treasure most precious and rare…

Even when he doesn’t say it you know how much he loves you, how much he cares…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: 300

A man prone to reticence, Charles can somehow still manage to say so much in just a few words.

Ugh, I just love him so damn much. You would think with how much I wrote for Javier that he would be my favorite, but nope, it’s Charles—always has been, always will be lol. From the first moment he appeared I liked him, and as the game progressed I fell deeper and deeper into it and yeah…

Anyways!

Here’s his letter to you. (Hopefully) Enjoy!!

|| With Love

To my beloved,

While I will admit that this isn’t my favorite holiday, being able to celebrate it with you makes it a day worthy of praise. In fact I haven’t found an experience yet that cannot be enhanced by your presence alone. 

You’re a gift to me, love, a treasure most precious and rare, so it’s only fair that I give you something equally valuable in return. Unfortunately there isn’t anything on this side of the pale that can ever come close to rivaling you in any facet, so we’ll both have to settle for what’s waiting for you in that box. And before you start in on me about the price, just know that you are worth it, more than worth it. Every dollar spent, every moment shared, every kind word spoken and compliment given, every everything—you’re deserving of it all.

I know my tendency to reticence can leave much to be desired at times, but I truly hope that it has never given you reason to doubt in yourself or what we share, but in case it has–

I love you, ____—from the depths of my soul and with every fiber of my being.

You complete me in ways that I thought would forever remain undone, have made me better in ways that I never anticipated. I know that our relationship isn’t a scale in need of balancing, but that does not stop me from feeling as if I am indebted to you in a way. Fortunately for us both recompense for such a debt can only ever come in the form of unwavering love and devotion, things that I am more than willing to give you in excess.

Know that I am yours, beloved, for as long as you will have me.

With love, Charles x

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #charles smith x reader #charles smith x gn!reader #charles smith x you #charles smith imagine #this is 300 words exactly and that makes me weirdly happy #it’s just one of those oddly satisfying things ig

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Hosea Matthews x GN!Reader in: Loving You, Now and Forever

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

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

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

You have breathed life back into constricted lungs, ____, have given me a renewed sense of purpose. If loving you is what I am now meant for it is a commission that I gladly accept and I’ll consider the whole of my days well spent.

He’s more than content to spend his life loving you…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: ~400

Dear, sweet Hosea… Though he always exuded this laid back air and functioned with no end of aplomb, there was always something tragic about him to me. There he was at the end of his life, and he had to watch his family fall apart at the hands of a man that he once considered one of his closest and most trusted friends.

It always seemed like he was trying to lay a path in an effort to give them direction, a thing that speaks to the well of care that’s at the core of him. It also hints at his own insecurities I think. He was always trying to teach something to the others, and while that was motivated in part by his wanting to pass on his wisdom in his final days/make them as self-sufficient as possible, I also think he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t forgotten.

He didn’t want his legacy to only live on in his crimes, but in the people he loved best. Upon seeing that the gang itself was doomed his focus became narrower. He would fight for the gang, yes, but he was far more invested in the people that it was comprised of—they were his driving purpose by the end of things. If he had a special someone in his life, however, I think it would’ve helped to keep him from sinking into the silent melancholy that he’d been privately giving himself over to for years…

…gah, I really went there huh? Sorry, I’m having a lot of Hosea feelings for some reason lol. HCs for another day/post ig…

Anyways!

Dude really be trying to play the ‘old timer’ card but then he’s out in these streets pulling shit like this. Smh, come get y’all man…

|| Loving You, Now and Forever

To my dearest love,

I often find myself wondering how we, or rather I, got here. Now don’t you worry, I won’t go harping on about age gaps and the like—I’ve already accepted that that’s a battle that I’m ever destined to lose. What I will say is that with age comes wisdom, and I’d have to be a right fool to turn down the honor of having such an amazing person love on me.

You really are just too much, you know that? Naturally I mean this in the best way possible. I like too much. The excess of joy and laughter and hope that you’ve brought into my life is something that I never thought I would have again. It almost feels greedy of me, honestly, getting a second chance at love like this. Most are lucky if they experience it once, but here I am falling all over again like someone half my age. I’d honestly forgotten what it was like, how good it felt to be in love—but sweetheart, rediscovering it with you has, and continues to be, a delight.

You have breathed life back into constricted lungs, ____, have given me a renewed sense of purpose. If loving you is what I am now meant for it is a commission that I gladly accept and I’ll consider the whole of my days well spent.

Though I always do my best to return all that you give to me a hundredfold, with today being Valentine’s Day I figured it was a good time for me to do a little something extra. Something like dinner and dancing at that place that just opened downtown. Now I won’t lie, these old bones can’t move like they used to, but I’m sure I can manage a turn or two around the dancefloor…

…just don’t ask me to dip you and all should be well, haha.

Well then, I think I’ve prattled on enough, and as much as I adore seeing you smiling and flustered I’d much rather have the whole of it directed at me and not a piece of paper—or am I too bold in my assumptions? Somehow I don’t think I am, though if indeed I am mistaken I’m sure that can be… rectified in short order…

Loving you, now and forever, Hosea

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#((Immy does fan fiction: The Yeehaws)) #hosea matthews x reader #hosea matthews x gn!reader #hosea matthews x gender neutral reader #hosea matthews x you #hosea matthews imagine #hosea is a flirty mf--that’s it that’s the hill i die on #he’s such a big tease and i am SO here for it