#big nasty fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

honeyshiddendesire · 15 days

Text

🤠Cowboys You Say?

Pairing: Zoro, Eustass, Sabo, Marco & Ace x fem!reader (separate or sharing doesn't affect the story)

*Old Note: Had a vacation out on 93 acres in the countryside and all I was thinking about…cowboys.*

Warnings: bondage! Dom/sub! Pet names! Praise & degradation! Vaginal penetration! Bimbofication! Rough sex! Spanking! Hair pulling! Yata yata smut lol y’all know I write nasty!breeding kink!

@votaeto @zorosdimples thought y’all might like this

*New Author’s Note: Out of all the stories I thought I lost from my old account Honey’s World of Fanfiction THIS one was by far my favorite so to stumble upon it again makes me sooo freaky hype!!!! AHHH So excited!!!! Hope everyone still loves it just as much as me!! Don’t be alarmed I did fix some typos as well! Lol*

*cow banner*

Acres of land as far as the eye can see was before you. Majestic and overwhelming but it was now yours. Inherited from your late father, Edward, you had no choice but to return home to his prize. The ranch he loved second ONLY to you, too precious for you to just sell.

Patches of woods and forests littered with game even open fields for horses to run wild until tamed. There was a beautiful garden that stretched around the ranch, a pond with a family of ducks. A river with a strong current that only the toughest even dare swim in, flowing just along the ranch’s right side.

The terrain was intense but luckily your father made sure he left you with a great team to help you out.

*banner*

Lumberjack Ace 🪓who jumps out his pickup truck shirtless, drenched in a layer of sweat with an ax resting on his shoulder.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who was saddened and shocked at your father’s death but happy seeing his pretty daughter inherit the ranch.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who tips his hat and winks at you with a side smirk as he walks, “Mornin’ darlin’.” The freckled face and cut abs flustering you immediately.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who pours a bucket of water over his head before taking the sweet tea you offered after hours of chopping firewood.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who cleans the chimney for you in your freakish city that gets snow storms mid summer. The grand line farmland a whirlwind of weather.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 flirts the entire time with winks and smirks. “Don’t worry babydoll I’ll have this house as hot as you in no time.” Tossing the wood he chopped inside with a dramatic sigh.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who ax throws intruders wanting to harm you

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who makes you wear his hat when you ride him cause you’re his pretty cowgirl princess. “Aren’t you just a spitfire?” His moans drawn out all nice and sweet for ya.

Lumberjack Ace 🪓 who fucks you hard against the trees he plans on chopping. Using you to see if they’re sturdy enough as your back rubs against the rough bark.

“Yeah pretty girl ya like that don’t ya?” He’ll ask as he nips at your bottom lip making you whimper, pussy clenching. His cock will destroy your insides as the harsh tree rubs your skin raw. “Want my seed deep in that cute lil pussy of yours? I bet you do baby girl. Take every drop alright darlin’.”

Fucking your cunt hard in the forest as your screams bounced off the tall trees making him grunt as he paints that pussy white. “That’s my pretty girl.” 🪓

🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

Doctor Marco 🩺 who rode in on a fucking horse with flowers in his hands to show his condolences.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who even studied animals in order to help your father when he stressed over his prized horse, Whitebeard, growing sick.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who made it a point to stop by everyday on his gorgeous marbled stallion, saying it was important for your mental health on such a secluded land.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who comes to your aid during the harsh heat when you almost had a heat stroke. “Wow there birdie~ can’t have you getting dehydrated on me.”

And !!

The treacherous winter when he finds you passed out in the house shaking still not used to a single fire heating up such a big house. “Sweet bird what would you do without me~” He’ll coo at you.

Doctor Marco 🩺 who sheds his clothes to warm you up the fastest way you can in the countryside. “Come here birdie I’ll keep you warm.”

Cock plunging deep into your pussy to make you sweat. Your gasps and moans make him shiver, back arching off the bed as you claw at his skin. “D-doctor~ M-Marco ah~ you feels so warm.” You whimper as he leans over pushing his weight on his hands.

“I know dove~ let me keep taking good~ care of you. Make sure you stay nice and warm inside and out.” Marco’s thrust would be deep and really rough to make you sweaty and gasping. “I reckon I’ll have you feeling peachy in no time birdie.”

Doctor Marco 🩺 who even checks your gag reflex with his cock buried snug in your wet throat.

“Take a little more pretty thing.” Hand brushing your hair back with a gentle smile. Your eyes watery as you looked up at him in your pretty sundress soaked in your drool.

“There ya go dove doin just~ fine.” Marco would grunt out as he shallowly thrusts into your throat. Cumming deeply into your tight mouth making you moan softly at the taste. Semen dripping down the sides making you whine and even messier for his greedy eyes.

🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who picked the prettiest mustangs for your father.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who supplies all the best horses in town. Even trains them too.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who washes your horses and loves watching you braid their hair afterwards in different styles. “I think that's one of my favorites sweet pea.” He’ll say coming up behind you all close.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who holds you tightly when a horse passes because he too knows your pain of losing a stallion.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who gets to train ladies all week but still doesn’t get behind them for a lesson, opting for his own stallion but insists on doing it for you. Saying you need the best.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who teaches you to ride. Thick cock brushing up against you as he wraps his arms around you. Breath heavy from the close proximity, “Doing great doll~” Voice raspy after a long ride of his cock brushing against your pretty self.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who buys you matching gloves for riding saying they’re the best and they’ll last the longest because of the quality but it’s actually because he likes you matching.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who wins all the horse racing championships

“Looking good doll.” Sabo drew out as he leaned against the railing where you were sitting in the front row. All the other women were jealous, wanting his attention too.

“How’s about I take a pretty lady like you out to a fancy dinner and a nice ride?” He winks at the last part hinting at a night of mystery that you so said ‘yes’ to.

Horse Tamer Sabo 🐎 who also makes you wear his hat when you ride him cause that’s just what cowboys do.

Eyes rolling back as he tugged on the knots you were bound by, “Just like that sweet pea move’em nice and slow fa me.” Sabo groaned out, voice raspy making you whine. Fat cockhead pushing past your cervix making you choke out moans.

“Ooooooowweee doll listen to you howl. Go head and cum on me ‘kay sweetheart.” Sabo’s cocky when he fucks his fat cock up into your dripping pussy. His blue hat bouncing with his powerful thrusts, pussy squirting making his ego grow more. “Now that’s a prize winning stallion! Fuck~!! I’m gonna have to breed you full after that ride.”

🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 Who brought you the biggest cow in the shop to show his condolences.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who still delivers fresh meats weekly even though you’re not sick like your father and very capable of doing it yourself.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who always offers to sharpen your kitchenware when he delivers the meats to ensure you the best.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who loves pulling up to you grilling or smoking some meats and seeing your proud smile when you used his ingredients. “Please Zoro! You just have to join me for dinner! I think you’re gonna love how the steaks turned out! It's a great cut.”

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who can hog tie the fastest in the countryside. Seeing him wrangle up that boar with his cocky smirk made your thighs press together. Feeling like a sinner in church needing a sip of sweet tea with the way he wiped the sweat off his brow.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who always winks at you and tips his hat after winning the hog tying contest making everyone jealous.

Butcher Zoro! 🔪 who puts you in gorgeous knots and suspended ropes to stretch you out in.

“Dammit woman look at you suckin’ in this cock like a champion.” Zoro grunted as he watched his cock disappear down your sloppy throat. Spit and cum from an earlier load dripping all over your front. Pulling away he ripped your top open and latched his hungry mouth onto your breast. Your arms above you in ropes as you hung like a butchered pig ripe for his taking.

“Prettiest little piggy to ever be eaten by me, I tell you what.” Zoro smirked as he left mark after amazing mark all over your sweaty skin.

Tying your legs up and spread out so he can slide that fat ass cock all the way in with no interruptions. “Fuck yeah piggy lemme hear you squeal for this cock just butchering your insides.” He was definitely merciless in all the things he did but you weren’t about to complain.

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who still tends to your 100+ acres of land cause, “Ain’t no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing a pretty lamb like you is doin all the work.”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who calls you almost every farm/animal he can possibly think of. Lamb, pig, mouse, bunny, chickie, calf, heifer,etc

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who comes to your aid whenever you need repairs around the house, but only does them shirtless.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who drives the tracker shirtless in his overalls with a piece of straw in his mouth, hat tipped real low. Winking at you when you give him a cool glass of lemonade for his hard work plowing the fields, though you couldn’t help but desire that he was plowing something else.

“Thanks lil calf but I think I might wanna drink on somethin’ else you can gimme me. Maybe some milk?”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who buys you the prettiest dresses and shoes cause he’ll be doin all the hard labor anyways.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who gets handsy the fastest cause he can’t help but want to let out all his stress on you. Looking like a sweet lil belle that he wanted nothing more than to corrupt into his pretty bimbo after a long day.

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who’s a total stereotype. Wanting a beer and his dick sucked the second he steps foot in the door. Don’t worry he always returns the favor 😉

“Been thinkin’ bout these lips wrapped around my cock all damn day out on that field. Fuck~ that’s it chick, slobber all over me.”

Farmer Eustass 🤠 who roughly shoves your face in the hay as he fucks you ass up in the barn. Spanking you and pulling you back by your pigtails.

“Good fuckin’ calf. Letting me breed you full till you’re swollen wit my kids, tits drippin with milk for me.” Hips rocking into your cunt with a mission to fill you full. Stuffing your womb full of his children to run and play on the farm.“Fuck-my little cow being so good. Stay just like that babe.” Spanking you as he grabs both your pigtails in one large hand. “Sweet little heifer letting me breed her like she’s supposed ta wit outta fight. Come on moo for your owner baby.” Voice raspy as he’ll grip your ass, fucking you hard on his heavy cock. Hay scratching into your face as you cream around his dick with a shaky scream. “Soundin’ so pretty when you get loud like that fa me.”

319 notes · View notes

bloodytittiez · 1 month

Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys [*gets shot*] I know I've never posted any of my writings before, even though I write fanfiction, but this has been collecting dust in my google docs page for nearly two years and it was too good to not share it with you my little kinky freaks/lh/aff (at least I think so)! I hope you enjoy this little smut fic - English isn't my first language so excuse some possible spelling and grammar errors, please... also, KEEP IN MIND THIS WAS A DRAFT! There's a lot of time skips and I doubt I'll ever finish it.

CONTENT WARNING: AFAB reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, teasing, heavy dirty talking, sex without condom, consensual non-consensual, phone sex, masturbation, public sex, porn with plot.

———

Red and blue lights flickering outside, tree branches tapping against the snowy windows of the sorority house. The soft, slow tunes and delicious scents of cinnamon and ginger cookies flowing in the air...

Christmas, such a family centered holiday where there's only place for laughs and sweet surprises, was completely ruined yet another year by him.

It was the fourth time in the night the moaner called. You could see your roommates gag at the blasphemies and curses the stranger yelled at the phone to each one of them– while you seemed to enjoy them in secret.

《Nasty… F-Filthy piggy. Bi-Billy has a big juicy fat cock he k-knows you’d love to suck on… I-It’s dripping wet and it f-fits in your mouth.》

You crossed your legs as ‘‘Billy’’ —you had no idea if that even was his actual name— spat nonsensical words for the sake of feeling some friction against your womanhood. His descriptions were so detailed that you could picture them perfectly in your head.

《Billy w-will kill each one of you… Tonight.》He breathed out in a way that felt almost a threat, his sentence getting distorted when it reached the other side of the line. Everyone could tell he was all tensed up for the way he gripped the phone.

《I can’t stand you anymore, you fucking pig!》

《Pig… P-piggy! Naughty piggy…》 The moaner repeated, mocking a very stressed out Jess Bradford.

《Jess.》 You interrupted the leader of your group with a serene expression, finally standing up from your seat when you felt her anxiety grow. 《Let me take care of the situation.》 You suggested while you took the device out of her hands before she would say anything, and covering the speaker you added something;

《Why don’t you guys go to bed? It’s way too late already.》

《But we can’t leave you alone with that creep!》 Jess exclaimed.

《Don’t worry about it. Someone has to confront him already and that’s going to be me.》 You answered, already building up enough courage to complete the task. 《Please.》 You looked up at the concerned eyes of every girl occupying the room while you could hear Billy talking to himself on the other side of the line. 《You girls need some rest. It’s been a long day.》

Jess and the rest stood there in silence, trusting your words. She gave you a small nod and parted her lips to articulate a silent ‘‘thank you’’ before leaving the room with relief. You knew she didn’t have enough energy to argue, and so did the rest.

You smiled when you returned to the call, grabbing the phone with distinguished elegance in your movements. A soft smile formed in your face and felt a sudden flock of butterflies inside of your stomach. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to play along with who you knew was a creep, but a part of you loved the thrill and danger in doing that. You could hear your sweet mother’s voice in your head begging to stop what you were doing as you answered Billy. To hell with her warnings of not picking up the phone to strangers!

Tonight was going to be different. May this be your very own Christmas gift…

《Hello, Billy.》 You tried not to come off as rude at first.

《Yes, yes… Hello there, my darling… It's so nice to hear your voice. You sound like an angelic creature.》

《Do you know who I am?》 You asked.

《 Yes... Yes, I know you. The quietest slut of the bunch. Billy loves to see your pretty ass swaying around when you walk. Yes… You filthy, nasty whore love to tease Billy’s cock. I know that well. Billy saw this naughty piggy touch herself… S-saw you cry out for Billy in the intimacy of your room.》

You couldn’t help but fluster at his obscene rambling and switched the phone to your other hand. You were the kind of person that would move around constantly when you felt nervous about something. In this case, a stranger that saw you masturbate plenty of times before. Poor you… How many times exactly did Billy hear you pronounce his name under muffled moans? You could feel your heart rate at the top of your throat, flooded in embarrassment as he playfully mocked you.

But; back to his confession though, you definitely couldn’t deny something that was completely true and after spending some seconds in silence you finally spoke up, a cigarette being held in between two of your shaky fingers so you could calm yourself down.

《Would you like me to do it now? Touch myself for you?》

《Yes. Yes. YES!》 He demanded in an almost feral manner.

You nodded in response to his pleas as the flame of your lighter lit the cigarette and kept paying attention to his delicious blasphemies. You were enjoying the moment more than you would like to admit. 《Touch yourself f-for B-Billy...》 He insisted, despair breaking in his voice. 《I want to hear your sweet moans like when you finger yourself alone.》

You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, letting one of your hands completely free and trailing down to your skirt as the mysterious man dictated. 《Roll your skirt up… Billy wants to see your juicy ass aswell.》

Your pussy soon got filled with two of your fingers, exploring every inch of your insides.

You were so warm…

So wet…

It was hard to believe how turned on you could get by the phone calls of a creep. Being manipulated in such ways by a man that you'd never seen before.

《I'm doing it, Billy…》 You sighed, moaning his name under your soft breath. 《I'm touching myself.》

The mysterious man groaned and panted on the other side of the line, incapable of forming coherent words. 《Move the phone down to your pretty slick… Billy wants to hear the sound of your wet cunt.》

His voice sent chills down your spine while you placed the speaker close to your pussy, fingering it with oh, such passion in every one of your circular motions. Obviously, you made sure that the sound of the friction of your digits was audible enough for Billy.

《Fuck…》 He groaned once more. 《I want to taste your pretty pink cunt… Oh Y...Yes… I will. I bet it tastes as sweet as you do. B-Billy wants to lick your tits and your round juicy ass.》 The man chuckled with a childish tone as you could hear him stroking his length while getting indulged in his fantasies. 《Suck on your nipples too… Squeeze those tits ‘till they turn red like two christmas ornaments…》

His words made you shove your fingers even deeper in you. You were getting too carried away right when you heard the mysterious man hang up the phone.

You grabbed it close to your ear, wondering what happened.

《Hello? Billy? Are you still there?》

Only the empty beeping of the phone answered you, leaving you completely disappointed and wet.

You took a deep puff of your cigarette and hung up the phone in return when you got tired of listening to the dull melody of the lost connection, then mumbled something and decided to go to your room for some rest too. Maybe Jess and Barb were right after all, there was no point on wasting your time on that fucking moaner guy you all couldn’t stand.

You turned off the lights outside, blew the candles in the living room and grabbed a little candy cane from the coffee table. You thought the night was over and your only comfort now was a little sugary treat.

But, when you suddenly walked into a dark corner of the stairs, a pair of big hands pinned you on the wall. An audible yelp escaped your lips as you heard a man's voice speaking in an attempt to reassure you. It was the same one you'd always hear on the phone.

《Shh… S...Shhh… It's okay… It's me, Billy.》

The man caressed your cheeks in a sloppy manner and covered your mouth. 《Pretty piggy… Where do you think you are going? Billy isn't finished with you yet… There are so many nasty things Billy wants to do to you…》

You tried to pick small bits of his face in the darkness when he slowly released you from his grasp. It felt rather strange to see him in person.

A tall figure partially hidden in the shadows, green eyes that would stare directly into your soul and long, curly hair caressing the sides of his forehead. Billy's description didn't fit his personality at all. He had the looks of a gentleman but the mouth of the devil. Although; you had to be honest about something. You still wanted to fuck Billy despite of his looks. They didn't matter much to you when his low and menacing tone is what drove you absolutely crazy for him at first.

His hot breath hitting against your neck soon turned you on again.

《Billy… I thought you weren't interested in me anymore. Why did you hang up on me?》You pouted, wanting to tease him as an act of revenge.

The way you said those words, with such a sweet yet innocent tone made the man react in ways you exactly wanted him to.

《N...No. Billy came a-all the way here to see you. Billy craves your body.》

You dragged his fingers across the line of your lips as an excuse to turn him on as well. You liked the way he sounded, so nervous. He could break down at any moment and you liked that.

The warmth of his digits along the surface of your puffy lips, bringing goosebumps across your whole body. You parted your lips and spoke again.

《How much do you crave my body?》 You attempted to lick his index finger to which got you a slight moan in response.

《S-So much...》

《Show me then, Billy. I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time…》

You finally confessed while you rolled your tongue out of your mouth and placed his finger on top. You sucked on it gently from the base to the tip.

———

Billy yanked your hair with such strength, dragging your puffy velvet lips to his dripping cock. His tip forced them open and soon his shaft filled your mouth hole.

Strands of hair tangled up around his fingers, both of you now locked together for god knows how long. You made the man shiver with anticipation as his tip brushed the back of your throat, leaving it hot and irritated.

You couldn't help but gag and drool repeatedly for he didn't give you a single break. But you didn't mind. You finally had what you craved.

‘‘Billy's juicy fat cock…’’

His words showed up in your brain, accompanied by a clear image of the cock that was stuffing your mouth in that very moment. Your horny mind couldn't help but recap every single quote that made you fall madly in love with him. Blame it on your degrading kink as a result of many failed relationships.

Billy bent you over with the same strength as before, ripping a yelp out of your throat while you grabbed the handrails so you wouldn't fall down the stairs and cause a scene.

Your ass now completely exposed was facing him, rubbing against his wet cock.

The man leaned over you and hands crawled around your stomach to hold you firmly as he would start rocking his hips at a slow pace. His left hand roamed free around your belly and later your clit, while his right one stayed busy pinching and twisting your nipples ever so slightly.

Billy could make you scream at any given time.

He could definitely break you. Turn you into his pretty little fucktoy, but having sex in a set of stairs definitely required some precaution.

《Billy. We should move somewhere else…》You gasped as soon as you could catch some air and already felt your whole body sore from standing up there. 《What if someone wakes up and sees us here?》

《If someone sees us…》 He repeated. 《I…It won't matter. I want them to see YOU moaning f-for Billy. Want them t…to see just how good you can take a cock.》

He purred into your ear as he covered your mouth to force your jaw open widely for him. Holding your breasts better around his hands he rubbed them together and squeezed them. You felt his wet cock pressing against your folds, desperately trying to make its way inside of you. God it felt so good to finally experience how all of his sinful threats came true one by one. Little whines came out of your mouth when you tried to accommodate to his size but he didn't let you. He was more than aware of his power and chuckled playfully.

《Billy's cock feels so good inside of your wet cunt. You are taking it so well. So tremendously well. Don't stop squealing, my little dirty piggy.》

You obeyed and let out a bunch of more moans caused by the pain of quick and deep thrusts. It was embarrassing to echo your satisfaction to an empty living room... And definitely hoped the girls closed their doors upstairs.

———

Billy noticed the red and white swirled candy that you were holding in your hands and took it from you while he turned your body around so that you could face him now.

Still holding your waist, he licked the candy cane until it would remain a little damped. You were staring at his eyes in a mix of excitement and curiosity the whole time and snickered.

He spreaded your folds and shoved the candy inside.

《Billy's gonna make this wet cunt even tastier.》

———

The chorus of early birds singing outside and gentle sunrays kissing your face woke you up the next morning. You stretched your arms, your legs and then… A pinch on your sore waist fully woke you up. You remembered what happened last night soon after that and smiled.

You sat up in bed and noticed a candy cane wrapped its plastic with a small green bow and a note. You had no idea when and how it got there, perhaps Claude; the sorority cat stole it from the silver platter downstairs and left it in your bed as a mere coincidence. You elongated your arm to pick it up and brushed strands of hair behind your ears to read it better.

It said ''Merry Christmas. With love, Billy'' in a surprisingly tidy calligraphy.

His name made your heart flutter and cheeks aroused when you remembered more details about last night.

You unwrapped the candy cane and tasted it, its sweet flavor melting in your tongue.

Maybe Christmas wasn't completely ruined this year.

#fanfic #smut #black christmas 1974 #black christmas #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #slashers #slasher community #slasher movies #slasher smut #billy lenz smut #female reader

152 notes · View notes

rdr2stories · 14 days

Text

"The Coyote And The Wolf" a Jovier fanfiction.

A 6000 word fanfiction about John and Javier through the games.

"No hurt that Javier experienced from losing a meaningless necklace could replace the hurt John had felt losing his brother."

The small chips of wood laid by John’s feet as he carefully carved out the form of a coyote’s tooth in the small wood lump that he had found laying around the camp. It was a gift he was making for the new kid, or man as he was, the Mexican one. John didn’t know if he liked coyotes but the animal reminded him of the man, he didn’t really know much about him at all, he didn’t speak English and John didn’t speak Spanish.

To be honest he didn’t really care that the two of them didn’t speak the same language because the man could drink, smoke and listen to John venting about Abigail without interrupting, so that is what they did, last time a bit too hard.

They had been at a local town’s saloon, just the two of them, when some big guy had needed someone to shout at and thought of Javier as an easy target. Javier had obviously not understood what the man said, which annoyed the man even more and, in the end, led to a fight, a quite violent one that earned Javier a nasty wound down his cheek, it was sure to leave a scar.

John had to admit that he blamed himself for it, he was the one who had asked Javier to go out full knowing that people tended to pick on him more easily than John, it had been a selfish request. He didn’t know if Javier blamed him as well, he couldn’t tell from the man’s indifferent face, and he couldn’t verbally say sorry either, so from that came the little wood carving that matched the one he had made himself a few hours earlier. His was a wolf’s tooth and together the two carvings were a peace offering.

When he had told Mary Beth his idea she had giggled, saying it reminded her of the friendship bracelets she had made her and Tilly.

Friendship bracelets as if John and Javier weren’t outlaws with more money on their heads than in their pockets, at least in his own case, he didn’t fully know about Javier, he hadn’t said what he had done but surely it had to be something big since he fled his entire country. John couldn’t imagine what he had done that had led him to just grab a bag and run to a country where he in every sense was worse off.

John held the two wooden carvings up. Javier’s was a bit smaller simply due to the fact that the real thing was as well, he hoped that Javier would understand that and not see it as something else. God, it was hard having a friend you couldn’t verbally communicate with.

“Whatever,” John mumbled as he used the tip of his knife to carve out a hole in the blunt end of the teeth and put a thin leather string through each of them, tying them into two necklaces that he stuffed in his pocket for now.

He got up from the stump he had sat on, cracked his back, and brushed the worst wood dust off his pants before making his way back to camp. He found Javier sitting in the middle of the camp, his back against a crate and a cigarette between his lips as he cleaned his gun with a cloth, not even looking up at John as he approached.

“Hey, Javier,” John spoke, finally gaining Javier’s attention and making him look up, showing John the not-so-prettily healing wound on his cheek.

“¿Cómo?” Javier replied unbothered as he removed his cigarette to blow out a cloud of smoke.

“Brother I got no idea what you are saying, just come on,” John replied as he gave Javier a small kick, earning a grunt and a glare but Javier complied, putting his gun back in its holster and getting to his feet before throwing the cigarette on the ground. “Come on.” John began to lead Javier away from the camp, promptly followed by Abigail’s complaining.

“Don’t you dare go too far!” Abigail shouted and John let out a grunt.

“Yeah, yeah,” he merely mumbled, feeling the annoyance of being trapped creep up on him. He was never allowed to leave camp those days for any longer than a mere couple of honors, it seemed that everyone thought just because Abigail was pregnant that John didn’t know how to take care of himself any longer. “Hey, we ain’t going that far,” John spoke as he saw Javier near Boaz.

Javier frowned slightly, unable to understand.

“No,” John spoke as he pointed towards the tied-up horses. “No horses.”

Javier looked between Boaz and John for a second before nodding understandingly and returning to John.

“Alright, come on, we are just going up to the trees,” John said, giving Javier a clap on his shoulder before continuing up to the tree line of the woods surrounding their camp. He didn't know why he felt like he needed to hide their little exchange, he wasn’t ashamed of his friendship with Javier nor was he ashamed of his carvings.

When they finally were out of sight from camp, John halted, Javier following as he let out a small chuckle.

“¿Qué? ¿Vas a besarme o algo?” Javier spoke in a sarcastic voice, obviously making a joke that John did not understand.

John sighed slightly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the necklaces. “I made these, as an apology.” He held the coyote tooth out for Javier who just looked cautiously between it and John.

“Yours,” John shoved it into Javier’s hands, making it clear that it was a present. “Apology,” he repeated in slight annoyance as he gestured at the wound. “Sorry, peace offering.”

Javier chuckled slightly as he looked at the carving. “Eso es bastante dulce.” He looked up at John, grinning, and gave him a small punch to the shoulder. “En este punto podría pedirte que me besaras.”

John smiled slightly. “You know, I got no idea what you are saying but you seem happy so I guess it is good enough.”

—

John’s fidgeted with the wooden carving hanging around his neck as he spaced out. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour and his chest was aching with anxiety. He didn’t know if he could get himself to do what he had planned, but then again he also knew that he couldn’t stay. His cheek had a permanent red mark just as his ass had for sitting still too long. He was allowed to do nothing, he wasn’t allowed to hunt, not that he was any good at it, he wasn’t allowed to go fishing with Javier, not that he was any good at that either, nor was he allowed to go drink, even though he was quite good at that. He wasn’t allowed any excuse to leave the camp.

He hadn’t been allowed to leave for weeks and taking his frustrations out on the firewood only helped him so much. He needed freedom, he needed to spread his wings and run, so he was going to, but this time he wasn’t just going to run into town, no he was going much further, far far away.

He did feel a little bad for Abigail, but it was her who had insisted on keeping him locked up in camp anyways! Her and Hosea, but he didn’t blame Hosea as much because at least he allowed Javier to sneak booze in for him, booze that Abigail said was a “bad influence” on him.

Javier had always been John’s savior, always been the one to sneak in drinks, smokes or whatever else Abigail had restricted him from. He didn’t want to leave Javier but he couldn’t bring him either, he had thought about it but decided against it. It would be unfair to Javier who was just starting to fit into the gang.

But John knew that Javier would be fine, Javier had made friends around camp, most surprisingly Bill Williamson, when he was sober that was. They worked quite well together, which partly had also been because Javier could put Bill in his place. John wondered if Bill actually liked being brought to his knees by Javier.

The night that John left, he briefly considered waking Javier up to say goodbye but he knew he couldn’t. He knew that he had to leave silently, he hoped that the letter he had stuffed in Javier’s boot would provide enough of an explanation both as to why John ran but also why Javier should keep silent about where John was first headed.

It was a little strange to John, when he had first made the teeth that both the men kept close to them, Javier hadn’t even spoken English, let alone been able to read it, now he read far better than both John and Arthur.

Hosea had been the one reaching Javier and he had learned quickly, picking up any book he could find and following Hosea around camp for hours just in case he found a word he didn’t know.

John didn’t think that Javier had started learning to read English because he liked to read, he had actually seemed like he had hated it, but the constant reminder that his inability to read it had made him less in some people’s eyes had driven him to do it. Now he never read in camp, but sometimes John would see Javier go off to fish with a romance book tugged in his bag.

The memory of what he was leaving behind suddenly made the wooden tooth heavy around John’s neck.

—

“What is this?” The girl in his arms asked as she played with the wooden tooth hanging around his neck, a flirty smile on her face. “A wolf tooth~? For such a big strong man like yourself, it seems quite fitting~”

John grunted, he didn’t feel big or strong. It had been a year since he had run off like a coward and he hadn’t taken the tooth off for a moment. He had kept it both because he liked it, but also because he knew that he was hurting himself with it and he felt like he deserved it. He could feel the shame of leaving Javier behind weighing heavy on him.

“Yeah,” John replied as he took it from her hand and held it up, feeling her fingers tangle themselves into his hair. She wasn’t the first working girl to ask about it, but she was the first that he felt inclined to tell the truth about it to. It didn’t mean that he liked her better than the others, it was simply because he missed Javier. “I made a coyote’s tooth for my friend as well.”

The girl giggled, her free hand roaming his chest. “What? Like a friendship bracelet?”

John shook his head. Back in camp, he used to be so angry when people said that, but not anymore because in a way it did feel like a friendship bracelet, not that he was going to say that out loud. “More in the way we are personality-wise. Black wolves are aggressive, stubborn, impatient, and short-tempered, but coyotes? They are intelligent, independent, cunning when needed, but always reliant.”

“Is that so?” The girl asked as he got up from the bed in the room they had rented above the saloon. She probably knew to stop there, there was a high chance she had heard a lot of similar stories and knew they didn’t end well.

“Hm,” John merely replied, letting out a sigh.

He felt like a jerk, fuck.

—

John had practically made best friends with the newspaper boy by the street corner who probably thought of him as a weirdo for always being the first person to buy the new edition and to specially request as many newspapers from other areas as the boy could get his hands on. It wasn’t a lot.

Every day John would read over the newspapers, searching for anything that even smelled like Dutch Van Der Linde, which was often a sweet soap that seemed weirdly out of nothing just like his crimes.

It had taken him weeks to finally find something, though it smelled more like Arthur Morgan than Dutch Van Der Linde, but it was close enough.

John packed his horse with his tent and the supplies that he had either paid for in blood money or bounty money and sat off.

Up and down mountains, across rivers and avoiding the law in a town where he and Arthur had royally fucked up some years back, he moved along, but when he was suddenly ambushed by what he was sure was an O’Driscoll, he knew he was close. Whether it was intentional or not, Dutch was always close to Colm and his gang.

John went to the nearby town, found the saloon, and went to the bartender, for once in his life glad that the gang didn’t know that drinking could go quietly. With Arthur’s go-happy drunken self, Bill’s “I will kill anyone nearing me” drunken glare and Javier’s eternal drunk teasing, the gang never went unnoticed and the bartender most certainly remembered them even though it had already been a week since he had seen them. The group had come in, gotten drunk, and while half were dancing can can the others were fighting each other. If that wasn’t the Van Der Linde gang, he was about to find a bunch of double gangers.

John got the direction that the group had headed to of the bartender with the promise that he would tell them to come back and pay for a window broken by a guy who fitted Bill’s description.

John searched the nearby area of the direction that the bartender had pointed him to and found the remains of a camp, the littered metal cans, the outlines of tents, the rest of a camp fire and tracks on the ground. Suddenly he was glad that it had rained recently, though he had hated it in the moment because he had been freezing, but now it not only gave him the knowledge that they had left within the last couple of days, but it also gave him the knowledge of where they were going.

John followed the tracks down a dirt path to a bigger dirt road, trying to keep an eye on which tracks were the Van Der Linde and which were just other travelers.

A couple of hours into his search, he suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes at a smaller path breaking off. He had a strange feeling to follow it. It would be risky, it truly would be, especially because he would not be able to identify the Van Der Linde tracks again but also because there were no wagon tracks leading up that path, just hoof prints.

Yet he did it, he let his eyes leave the tracks and nudged his horse forward into a trot up the road. He already regretted it, fuck he regretted it. His gut feeling had never been worth anything, but he couldn’t turn back now.

The turns that John took led him into more open fields, something that the gang would never like, yet he knew that something was waiting for him. He damn hoped that it was good.

Just as he reached up to fidget with the carving around his neck, something he found himself doing a lot when anxious, he saw something.

By a small river further away stood a person humming to themselves as they threw the fishing line out into the water. John did not need to get any closer to know who owned the silly hat on that person’s head. Javier Escuella.

John kicked his horse in the side a bit harder than he had intended to and sat into a gallop, sliding to a stop just as Javier turned to point a gun at him.

Javier’s eyes widened as he saw John upon his horse, heavy in breath, his eyes holding both relief but also pure terror.

“John?” Javier asked as he lowered his gun. “I thought you was dead!”

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easily,” John replied, noticing that Javier still carried the coyote’s tooth around his neck on the outside of his jacket. Oh what a sweet relief, if he still carried it maybe he didn’t hate John, or maybe he just used it as a reminder not to trust people, just as John had carried his as a reminder of what he had left behind.

His stomach curled anxiously.

“Well get down from there!” Javier spoke with a wide smile, embracing John in a hug as soon as he swung himself off his horse. “I missed you like crazy compadre!”

“You aren’t mad at me?” John asked cautiously as Javier swung his arm around John’s shoulders and led him down to the small camp he had made by the river.

“De ninguna manera!” Javier replied as he gestured for John to sit by the fire. “That lady of yours was going to kill you faster than a bullet if you had stayed, I would have run too.”

“I ain’t sure I got a lady no more,” John replied, watching Javier chuckle.

“Maybe that is a good thing. She doesn’t seem to have become much better, she is tired all the time. That kid of yours isn’t easy.”

“I ain’t sure it is my kid either.”

“Well they sure think it is yours.” Javier walked over to a small bag he had lying by the water, pulled a big fish out of it and put it over the fire.

“Yeah but is it mine?”

“Don’t matter,” Javier shrugged as he sat down next to John. “They think it is yours so for all that matters it is yours.”

“Sadly.” John grunted as he crossed his legs underneath him, his hand instinctively going to the wooden tooth as a moment of silence fell over them. He used to love those comfortable silences but right now when he didn’t fully know where he stood with Javier, he hated it.

“Are you coming back to camp?” Javier then asked as he took the fish off the fire, cutting it in half with his hunting knife and passing half to John.

“I want to,” John replied as he removed a bone from the fish. “But I don’t know if I can.”

“They are pretty mad at you,” Javier said as he picked some meat off the fish. “Arthur has been throwing your name around like it is a slur.”

John made a grimace, ouch that hurt, but it was also to be expected. It was first after he had left that he realized the parallels between him and Arthur and the differences in how they had handled an unexpected kid. If he was Arthur he would probably hate himself too, if he could give Abigail and Jack to that big loaf of muscle he would, Arthur would make a better father and husband than John ever could.

“I am not sure Dutch would let me back in, we got a policy for traitors,” John said as he picked at the fish, not really having an appetite.

“Dutch will be fine,” Javier replied, watching John before handing him a smoke to switch the fish for. “You is his family, he defines your name, at least to some degree.” He grinned slightly,

“Really?” John asked as he handed Javier his half of the fish and placed the smoke between his lips, lighting a match with the bottom of his shoe.

“Sí, when Arthur gets real mad he reminds him of all the good you did.”

John blew out a cloud of smoke and snorted. “Like what?”

“Dunno, didn’t listen,” Javier replied before reaching over to gently punch John’s shoulder. “Come back, I will protect you.”

John smiled slightly. “Like some long-lost maiden, huh?”

“Long lost at least,” Javier grinned teasingly. “Maiden perhaps not yet, but keep growing that hair and you might turn into one.”

“As if you don’t have long hair as well.” John had gotten long hair though, he hadn’t cut it for a time and the ponytail he had gathered it in wasn’t so small any longer. He didn’t doubt that Grimsaw would have him cut it at least to his shoulders if he returned.

“Manly long hair, unlike you princesa.”

“Hey!” John exclaimed jokingly. “I ain’t no princess.”

“Oh, you understand Spanish now?” Javier got to his feet with a smile on his face, throwing the remains of the fish into a nearby bush. “¿Quién diría que un hombre tan malo como tú podría aprender un idioma tan bueno?”

John let out a huff as he looked up at Javier. “I still don’t understand you.”

“Por supuesto.” Javier went over to the fire, kicking some dirt into it and snuffing it out with his boot. “Come on brother, let’s get you home.”

—

John guessed that he should have been happy he was let back into camp at all, but he wasn’t in camp much anyway, mostly because people didn’t really want him there. Surprisingly, he didn’t care that much. He had all the freedom in the world, so he and Javier were often the ones taking the missions that required leaving camp for longer times, not that Arthur was very happy about it, he kept openly saying that John was going to run off again.

For years it became nearly impossible to find John without Javier by his side, they could be counted as one by then. If Javier needed to fish, John joined, if John went into store to buy ammo, Javier joined, and although it was never their plan, they always ended up doing more than what they had left camp to do.

They could be riding on their way back from town and suddenly see a small house, and naturally as the curious people they were, they went to look at it. That either lead to them running away laughing as the owner shot at them them or them helping the owner. They knew better than to leave bodies around for no reason, but they would if it excused them being away for longer, after all they couldn’t go back to camp if the body was still hot, someone might be following them.

By 1899 the wooden teeth that had rested on the mens necks for years had gotten miscolored with use and were even detailed on the outlaws warrant descriptions. They found it hilarious.

—

John was bleeding on Javier’s shoulder, more specifically on Javier’s poncho, the poncho John had once seen a teen try to steal and lost his ability to walk over.

John leaned away from Javier, trying to keep his balance as Boaz trotted through the heavy snow, he didn’t want to get any more blood on the fabric than he already had.

“Lean on me idiota, you are gonna fall.” Javier reached behind him, pushing John’s stomach flush against his back and securing John’s around around his waist.

“I will bleed all over your poncho,” John mumbled. The cold was making him both dizzy and tired at the same time, yet the stabbing in his face kept him awake.

“It can be washed and I don’t think you will survive a fall from a horse right now,” Javier huffed in slight annoyance. “That wolf tooth is a little ironic now, huh?”

John snorted as he rested his uninjured cheek on Javier’s shoulder. “I got a taste of the real thing now, powerful stuff.”

“Like you, strong enough to survive this, as long as you stay on the horse,” Javier reached down, laying a hand on John’s around his waist as he felt the grasp loosen. “Don’t you pass out on me now brother.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” John mumbled before jerking wide awake as Javier pinched the skin on his hand. “Ow!”

“Stay awake!”

“Alright, alright, I am awake,” John said as he placed his chin on Javier’s shoulder, watching the path before them.

Arthur snorted as he followed behind them.

John being bedridden did not at all help his relationship with Abigail who was sitting by his side at every waking moment. It reminded him a lot of the time around Jack’s birth, except he didn’t have the opportunity to sneak out with Javier or even drink. All he could do was lay and either sleep or try to fall asleep and fail due to Abigail’s constant complaining and nagging about how he had reached a new low, as if he had chosen to almost get eaten alive by wolves.

Javier joined John when he could, which wasn’t that often, a lot needed to get done to keep them all alive and Javier was one of the few people still able to man a gun after Blackwater, but when he was around John didn’t mind his bedridden state as much. He did however dislike how Abigail was always present even when Javier was, they never had a single moment alone so Javier never had the chance to slip him some booze to dull the mental pain.

When they had reached Horseshoe Overlook, John had finally been allowed out of bed, he wasn’t allowed to do much, but at least he had been allowed to join Arthur and Bill for the search of some O’Driscolls with that Kieran guy Arthur had captured up in Colter. It wasn’t something big, but it was at least an excuse to get out of camp and away from Abigail’s yapping.

Those missions and the nights were his to enjoy, Abigail often went to bed early so that meant he could drink with Javier.

John had practically laughed when Javier had returned to camp one day from the local town Valentine with a nasty but superficial wound over his face. It seemed that him, Bill, Arthur, and Charles had gotten into a bar fight.

“Trying to imitate me?” John asked teasingly as Javier dumped himself down next to him by the fire, smearing some blood over his face as he tried to remove the dirt Bill’s horse Brown Jack had kicked up.

“I would go for a coyote if I was,” Javier snorted and let out a string of annoyed Spanish curses as the wound began to bleed again.

“Let me take care of that,” John said as he got to his feet and headed to his tent.

“No need.”

“I will do it anyways,” John spoke as he returned with some alcohol, some wipes and a small bandage. “I have gotten quite good at treating facial wounds.” He gestured at his own mauled face before sitting down on a crate by the fire. “Sit.”

“Ordering me around, are you now?” Javier asked but still complied and sat down on the ground in front of John, staying still as the other man grabbed his chin with one hand and slowly began to work on the wound.

John looked down at Javier and the wound right above the scar that was left from one of their first drinking trips. His heart fluttered slightly at the sight of the man looking up at him. Quickly, he looked away, working on the wound the same way he had worked on his own after getting tired of Abigail doing it for him.

He could see the wooden tooth hanging around Javier’s neck and for a moment he wondered. Friendship.

“There,” John said, his hand leaving Javier’s stubbled chin, his fingers already missing the warmth of the other man’s skin. “You will be okay.”

Javier let out an amused huff. “Thank you for saving my poor life.”

—

“Javier, can’t you see it?” John asked as they sat around the fire at Beaver Hollow, the first time in a long time where they were alone, the first time in a long time where they could talk.

“See what exactly?” Javier asked, his voice almost as desperate as John’s as he put down his guitar. He hadn’t played it in a long time but he still held it every now and then. The camp did feel empty without its music but the silence was preferable to the anger that no doubt would rise when the gang gathered around. “A string of bad luck? Why are you acting this way? Explain it to me.”

“Because of Dutch! He isn’t right in the mind. He left me Javier, left me!” John argued, the hand over his chest clenching the fabric of his shirt. “They was talking of hanging me! I was going to die!”

“He had a plan!” Javier argued back. “He was going to get you! Just like he got to me on Guarma! My leg was wounded, I was kicked, beaten, dragged over the ground by a mule! I was caged up but I knew Dutch wouldn’t leave me. You were stuck in prison, of course it was going to take some time to find a way to get you out.”

John let out a sorrowed sigh, his face falling. “You didn’t see it, you weren’t there when they arrested me. He had a chance to save me, he could have saved me, there was a moment… A moment where he could have done something, but he didn’t, he left.”

Javier shook his head. “John, I want to believe you, I do, you know I trust you… But I trust Dutch too, he has saved me several times.”

“He saved me too when I was a kid, I saw him as my father. Javier, this isn’t easy for me to say, I just don’t… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel safe, he has slipped. Have you heard him plan recently?”

“No, but I know that his plans normally work out. I don’t know how he can just change.”

John looked down at the ground, his hand going up to fidget with the necklace. “Neither do I.”

Javier placed a hand on John’s arm, making him look up at him, and gave him a small smile. “We will be okay, we just have to have some faith in Dutch. One last job and we are out of here to Tahiti or wherever he wants us to go.”

John’s heart ached, he wanted to believe that, he really did but he couldn’t. He knew they would never make it to Tahiti. No matter how bad it became between him and Dutch, he knew that he and Javier would be okay. “Yeah.”

—

Friendship, friendship, John didn’t know much about friendship but he knew that whatever the fuck this was was not friendship!

John’s eyes widened, his hand clenching around the wounded shoulder as he watched Javier stand on the other side of the camp, his gun drawn and eyes on the ground, his gun drawn at John and Arthur. His friend was drawing a gun on him when he was wounded?

Look at me! Look at me god damnit! John wanted to scream. He wanted to shout across the camp into the forest and down to Annesburg. Fuck the Pinkertons, fuck the Murfree Brood, fuck the law, he needed Javier to look him in the fucking eyes as he drew that gun at him,

Javier didn’t even have the guts to look John in the eyes or point the gun at him when he turned his back on John and sided with the man who had left John to die. Instead, he was pointing the gun at the sky and looking at the ground like the fucking coward he was, oh John hoped that Javier was looking right down his chest, he hoped that the man could see the symbol of their friendship hanging around his neck and he hoped that it choked him like a noose. How fucking dared Javier wear that when he went against everything it stood for?

Did their years of friendship mean nothing? Did everything they had gone through mean nothing? John did not know what Javier thought of him, but John knew that Javier was no friend of his.

—

The final brick had been laid on the new house and John took a moment to step back and look over the place he could now call home. It wasn’t much, yet, but Beechers Hope was slowly starting to look like a place he could bring Abigail and Jack back to, it just needed a little furnishing and it would be perfect.

It was also nice being back with some of the old gang members, Sadie, Charles, even Uncle. He never thought he would say he was glad being around Uncle, but he was, even though he had been less optimistic when he had run into him back in Blackwater.

He missed the old gang, the old times.

He reached up to where the wooden tooth had hung around his neck for years, clenching the fabric of his collar. He hadn’t worn the necklace since everything went down in Beaver’s Creek, yet the anxious fidget remained and he hated himself for it. Javier had betrayed him, he had chosen Dutch over him, had drawn a gun on him. He couldn’t forgive Javier no matter how much he missed the happy times they had had together.

—

Time had not been on Javier’s side, or maybe it was simply because all the ugly inside was finally starting to show outside. His hair stood out to every side underneath that god-forsaken hat that John had always hated but accepted as Javier’s culture. Now he wanted to shoot it right off.

“Hello old friend,” John spoke as he pointed the gun at Javier in the small storage room. It had been twelve years since he had seen that face and he could happily have gone twelve more. “It has been a long time.” Not long enough though, he only accepted the situation because of the whole Abigail thing and the fact that he might end it just like he had with Micah four years prior. He had been happy he killed Micah, and he would be happy killing Javier too. He had imagined it since he had watched Micah bleed in the snow. The image had made him happy… But at the same time… He couldn’t imagine killing his friend, he always had to remind himself that his Javier was already dead.

“Hello brother, it is uh, good to see you,” Javier said and John had to hold in a scuff, brother? Really? They hadn’t been that for twelve years. “I heard you was coming, took your time no? Come on you aren’t gonna shoot your own brother, are you? We was family.”

That was where Javier was wrong, John was going to shoot the moment Javier breathed in the wrong direction.

“Yeah, we were, then you and Dutch went crazy and then family didn’t mean so much.” His breath hitched in his throat as Javier chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Underneath Javier’s coat was a necklace, a wooden tooth, the coyote tooth that John had carved so many years ago for the both of them, the one that John had thrown in a bag and never looked at again but been unable to throw away. Javier still wore it. How fucking dare he, how dare he wear the symbol of their friendship with so much ease when he betrayed John just as easily?

Javier could rot in hell.

—

“Ah shit, I hope you are struggling with what you are doing brother,” Javier spoke as he lad over John’s shoulder, his speech slurred from the blood running to his head.

Was John meant to struggle? Yes, and John did struggle as much as Javier had struggled turning his back on him, not at all… At least that was what he told himself because the truth was he did struggle, that nagging feeling in the back of his head was telling him that he was killing his friend, but he just had to remind himself that his Javier was gone. This Javier over his shoulder was not the Javier whose chin he had held in his hand, the Javier who had hung out with him even when they didn’t speak the same language, the Javier who had sneaked booze to him, the Javier who had welcomed him back with open arms, the Javier he had loved. Deep inside he still struggled to accept that person was dead and this person thrown over his shoulder was the sorry excuse of a man who remained

“You sold me out, did the life we had mean nothing to you? OW! OW SHIT! You puto!” Javier cursed as John threw the man to the floor in the cell, letting out a snort. Javier could call him anything he wanted, any curse word, any slur, John was done with Javier and the mere fact he dared bring up their old life was insulting. Javier had been the one turning his back on John first to leave him in the mess Dutch had created, now Javier was just angry John had decided to put a knife in that back.

—

The agents stood by the car, waiting for John to hail Javier off the back of his horse.

“Mister Marston, fancy seeing you here,” one of them joked and how John wished to put a bullet in that man's head, he would have had it not been for Abigail and Jack. He didn't even speak as the men went on a long monolog about justice and truth, he didn’t care for it, the only thing he cared for was his family.

One of them grabbed onto Javier’s shoulder and before John knew what he was doing he told them to stop. “Hey, hold on a second.” For a moment he saw something in Javier’s eyes, hope maybe, affection? Something that didn’t matter, he would be hanging from a noose in not too long.

John reached underneath Javier’s jacket and grabbed the tooth, yanking it off Javier’s neck, not even caring to look or be bothered with the hurt in his eyes.

No hurt that Javier experienced from losing a meaningless necklace could replace the hurt John had felt losing his brother.

-------------------

I also appologize to Javier because I don't know spanish so his spanish has been reduced to DeepL. I actually dont know if this is too long for tumblr and if I should put it on ao3 instead but we will see.

#john marston #jovier #rdr john #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #abigail marston #abigail roberts #javier escuella #rdr2 javier #rdr2 john #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur

59 notes · View notes

daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 3 months

Text

My writing so far!

At the moment all these are DCx DP w Danny and Damian being twins

Keeping It Close to the Chest:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Touch-Starved Prompt "Is this okay?"

Part 1

Part 2 (2/20/24)

Ao3 - Come read the updated version of KICTTC :3

Please if I can have a moment of your time,

I've been hearing talk of people binding fics into books for profit, I will make this clear Fandom is supposed to be fun. Its something people do for free. We do it to spread joy. If you print out fics for your PERSONAL enjoyment or make them into books for a PERSONAL collection (a friends or families personal collection as a gift) thats kosher in my head.

If you wanna steal people's work to make money, you're gonna discover real quick that A) fanfiction writers don't own the material and you're gonna get sued REAL quick, and B) people are not gonna share their stuff and there will be nothing for us to enjoy and for you to disrespect.

We as writers KNOW consequences can happen even if you don't intend to, it's why we saw the wave of I DO NOT OWN THE SOURCE MATERIAL OR CHARACTERS IM JUST PUTTING THEM INTO SITUATIONS THANKS because creators were worried these big companies would take them for everything they had for a silly little story that they never claimed to own. All it took was one person to get slammed. We Do Not Claim we just play. Thanks.

I don't think it's hit this fandom yet because it's not as popular as some of the others and because in my experience the DC x DP fandom is pretty chill, supportive and we love to encourage each other to create- no nastiness or pushiness that i've seen BUT

I do not condone that type of behavior and I will be keeping an eye on the situation, I would hate to have to take my stuff down so soon after finally getting the guts to post them for all of you to see and enjoy too so lets all continue to be good sports okay?

Tell your friends, spread the word in your circles, we stand together and united against monetizing the stuff we do for pleasure.

~Ren

72 notes · View notes

dwobbitfromtheshire · 3 months

Text

I'm thinking about season one Steve, again. He never gave me the preppy popular vibe to me. I knew people like Tommy and Carol in high school. They weren't popular. They were outcasts who sat away from other people and exhibited gross weird behavior like propping their nasty feet up on the table. In season one, they mention that the game is about to start, but if Tommy and Steve were on the team, shouldn't they already be ready, you know? Maybe it was a different game. Did they ever actually say that he was on the basketball team, or is that something we just assumed? I know they said he was on the swim team. And I know that they showed him playing basketball in season 2, but that didn't necessarily mean he was on the team.

Anyway, I think because Steve was rich with good hair, nice clothes, and good with the ladies that people thought he was this asshole jock who bullied people. I mean, occasionally, he would show up to parties and show off his keg king skills, but for the most part, I think he was as much a loner as Jonathan was. He had two friends, and that was it. People called him king, and so with that title came the expectations of knowing everyone. Everyone wanted his attention, even Robin, but they never even bothered to try to get to know him. They just put that ball into his court. For the most part, though, I think he was this dorky outcast who just wanted to goof off with his friends and wanted so badly to stop feeling lonely even when he was around other people. I think he stopped feeling lonely when Dustin came into his life. Anyway, I just think what people know about Steve is just assumptions that they made about him like they made about Eddie. I like that in season 4 that Eddie admitted he made that assumption about Steve, that he was wrong, and that he told Steve that he was a good dude. It's why I love Steddie so goddamn much. Not even Robin said it out loud. I mean, I love platonic Stobin, but I hated it when she said that he was such an asshole for not paying attention to her in class. I mean, I get that she was jealous because of Tammy, but come on, does that mean just because he was popular that he has to know everyone in the goddamn school? In a way, though. I do like it because it shows that Robin isn't perfect, and I think later she sort of realizes it in the bathroom, but I don't think she ever apologized out loud for making that assumption about Steve like everyone else does. She also did say that people like her also wanted his attention. There was just something about Steve. I mean, yeah, he is a bitch but I love that about him but then again so is Robin, so is Eddie. I think that's why I always have them hanging out because, in a way, they're so much better for him than Tommy and Carol ever were. There's not this expectation of being perfect or being popular and Steve can be as bitchy as he wants with them because they'll bitch right back. It's their love language. To sum it up, Steve was an outcast in his own way. He just had a big house, rich parents, and women wanting to be with him. And I'm just really tired of Steve having to keep apologize for that. He apologized for the theater thing and what he said to Jonathan, and then he risked his life for them. He has nothing to apologize for anymore. People keep making him do that in fanfictions too, and it's so annoying. There needs to be a Steve Harrington apology tour in season 5 where everyone apologizes to him instead of the other way around.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington character study #steve harrington s1 #stranger things s1 #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steddie #rueleigh's thoughts

124 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 3 months

Note

What is it about that big nasty man that reduces us all to sluts(affectionate)

It's the nastiness in the safe context of fanfiction. Easier to be the biggest slut when there'd no real consequence to it. The big nasty man cannot actually hurt me or do these things to me, but it's very good in my head for thinking about...

#ghoul speaks

81 notes · View notes

suugarbabe · 7 months

Note

Hellooo I'd like to request something:

So it's with George Weasley and the reader and him are classmates (so they know eachother but kindly mind their own business). The reader is muggleborn and a big fan of old muggle music (I'm thinking of maybe something from the 60s/70s like the Beatles, Pink Floyd etc. but you can choose some other if you want) and kinda has like a similiar style (don't know how to describe it, maybe like flare jeans or something?) and totally lives and loves it. But they get bullied from some idiots about it and about being muggleborn and about nobody knowing "their kind of people". So maybe one day the reader gets bullied really hard (calling names, laughing at them etc.) and George sees it and helps them and then they become really good friends and he learns a lot about muggle music and starts loving it. And then - BOOM - one day both realise that they want more than friendship but it's kinda complicated telling eachother? So all in all it's friends to lovers.

It would be cool if you write it but only if you have the time, no pressure! If you aren't able to at the moment it's completely fine ♡

Have a nice weekend (btw I really like your fanfictions)

Babes I'm not sure what more I can do, you wrote the blurb already in your request! That's freaking great, like you did it, I can add a little extra but you did this babes!

You had always thought George was the softer twin. Whereas they were both boisterous and always pranking and loud, Fred just seemed more 'in your face' where George was more observant. Maybe that's how he found himself standing up for you after a particularly nasty group of Slytherin's were bullying you.

They were calling you names, making fun of how you dress when you weren't in school attire, calling it 'old' and 'groovy' and 'ancient', calling you 'four eyes' but George had seen you before and thought your style was rather cute and that your glasses complimented your facial features. He also now had another excuse to jinx some Slytherins.

You had thanked him when he saved you, full intentions on walking off but instead he asked where you were headed and if you needed company. That was the day you spend several hours in the library, you telling him about muggle movies and music and he knows a little bit of what you're talking about since his dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Dept. at the MOM, but the way you talk about it makes it so much more interesting.

Neither of you realize you've missed dinner until Fred comes looking for him, surprised to (1) find his brother in the library and (2) find him talking to a girl he's never seen before. George makes plans to meet with you again, and you're taken aback at first, but agree to meet with him.

So you start hanging out more, start showing him your old record player that was your dad's and all the old music and George is in love with it all, telling you that he thinks it's more magical than most stuff he's experienced.

And when he asks you to the yule ball your confused, because he could ask anyone, but George has never been more sure of anything in his life.

With him being in Gryffindor and you in Ravenclaw you opted to go for golden color dress (it matched most closely with both houses and also complimented your glasses frames).

When you met George at the bottom of the Ravenclaw steps you nearly took his breath away, and it was at that moment he knew he never wanted anyone else.

George could do nothing but smile on the dance floor watching you enjoy yourself and playfully criticising wizard music, "Not to say anything bad about wizarding music, all music is great if the listener likes it, but I know quite a few muggle songs that I'd much rather listen to right now."

And George would smile and nod in agreeance while he swayed with his hands on your waist, watching your lips as you talked so enthusiastically only to be suddenly cut off by his lips on yours.

You respond immediately, hands finding trace in the hair at the base of his skull pulling him closer. And when you finally break away, both breathless, chests heaving, George just smiles and tells you to continue what you were saying, that he just had to kiss you quickly before he got to scared later.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #nonny bo bonny #george weasley fluff #weasley twins

107 notes · View notes

gortashs-skidmark · 13 days

Text

something nasty bc there’s not enough gorty content.

Gort’s Big Jork

Enver Gortash x Tav (GN) NSFW!! MNDI! 18+ Content!

Description: Gort jorks it to Tav. Using a Scrying Eye spying system seen in the game.

Spoilers for Act 2 and a little 3

Content Warning: Jorkin’ it idk, masturbating (male), tried to make it smutty, spying on tav, he’s an ass man.

!! Gender Neutral Anatomy. No Male or Female parts explicitly mentioned, bc you bitches always make it afab, it’s much hotter and inclusive when it’s GN descriptions !!

Gort needs to fuck. I’ve never ever written fanfiction before but in desperate need of him. If there are errors comment below and I’ll fix them if I know how. Also Gort is kinda gross in this bc if he can’t tie his own shirt or brush his yellow teeth, he’s not gonna care in this.

𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅

This monitorial invention of his, mounted on the wall in front of him, glowed filling the room with a striking blue hue. Flickering as his living cameras moved on the other side. Everything he could see of his plans in-action filled his view. A few, showed a black screens, in turn reflecting his raw image. The Goblin Camp had been struck to its knees and his few scrying eyes along with it.

He stood with his arms crossed, the rest of his body portrayed in a confident relaxed position. He stood behind a cushiony chair. Gortash could sit, but he didn’t have a lot of time to throw away, staring at the blue-ish shade thrown over Moonrise’s walls. Watching his acolytes pick their noses when they thought no one was watching.

He hadn’t expected Tav to make it into Moonrise, much less with the same company as before. Through Duegar guarding the elevator, and hostile Githyanki ripping through anyone who may have the artefact he sought after, who would have guessed? This may prove a problem if they can slash through just anyone.

Gortash took a deep breath, in through his mouth, out through his nose, tipping his head down without his eyes leaving the screen. He studied Tav through his scrying eye monitors, up and down the eye thoughtlessly followed the miscreant.

He couldn’t help but admire them, truly, and foolishly. They had put themselves through the thick of it, and still landed where it hurt Gortash’s plans the most. They made it to the Shadowlands, blessed by Selûne, and dusted by pixies. How utterly lucky. Unravaged by the Shadowfell, and their brains still have enough holes in it to step into Ketheric’s territory.

He felt his breath quicken and his upper lip curl in disgust. Sheer luck on their side. Never on his. His thoughts were upsetting. By Jergal’s Blessing it shouldn’t be this easy. He had to be a genius and a cunt to make it to his place in the world.

His chest rose up and down unsteadily. His loosely folded arms, now gripped the top of the cushioned chair mercilessly. He hadn’t worn his gold threaded attire, instead in a soft set of navy blue pantaloons and a threaded black blouse. Still his forearm held the stone upon a Gauntlet, he never took it off. It was night-time across Wyrm’s Crossing, his home. He didn’t sleep when the sun went down and the stars came up. He couldn’t sleep now, knowing this hero slipped through his fingers like sand.

Gortash would feel no failure. Bane would see no failure. It was his flawed compatriots with ambitious gods who would fall fast. faster. And he would suffer the consequences of their own failure. This hero, broad backed, snatched waist, adorned in dented armor, a raw frazzled state they were in from the journey there. Blood crusted on the side on their face, on their boots, on their back, on their chest, in the hair of their brow. Maddening. Almost carnal lust took over.

No. No no no no no. No.

Gortash was panting now, a bitch in heat he was. His black shirt clung to his back, sweat started to run down his under arms. It was hot in the room. His pantaloons felt three sizes too small. The fabric was irritating and raw. It was dizzying.

He shakily, slowly, defeatedly, sat himself down, his eyes hadn’t left the screen once since Tav arrived. The scrying eye lowly followed them still, the reflection on the screen gave Enver a whopping view of their ass. Their thighs, large enough to crush his head between them. Their gait, clearly guarded, but their ass still bulging back and forth, left leg, right leg, through their pants as they walked.

Enver needed relief, from the heat, the stress, the dizziness, the itching worry in the back of his mind, possibly even from Bane’s trust. He didn’t want to see how his body betrayed him, he didn’t let Tav leave his sights still as his hands moved downwards to the strings of his navy pants hurriedly. His fingers nearly getting caught every time he loosened one side of the strings. He lifted his hips, thumbs tucking into the sides of his hips and pushing down his pants, to above his knees. He didn’t wear underwear, he didn’t need to. Not when he only could catch moments like these to have to himself.

He sat his tush on the seat again, breathing through his mouth. He couldn’t get enough oxygen, uneven breaths. His tongue was starting to feel dry as he pushed the tip of it against the roof of his mouth in concentration. His right hand, slightly obscured by his gold gauntlet and pointed fingers, gripped his half-hard on that was peaking through his foreskin. He held it, just holding it at the base as his mind emptied any thoughts of his next steps in his plans. He only saw Tav.

The veins decorating the underside of his cock pulsed under his fingers. He was getting harder the longer he stared at Tav’s ass. His jaw shifted tensely from side to side. What he wouldn’t do to tie, bend, and break them in his presence at this moment--Their ass shook, they were laughing. At something he didn’t care to bother figuring out. Any limpness in his cock was gone as it erected up right and curved towards his stomach slightly. It was painfully red, contrasting the darker base.

He could imagine their lower back tensing as they laughed. He gave his base a squeeze. A low airy sound pushed out of him. Pre-cum oozed out of his ever-reddening tip. He started to stroke, slow and controlled. From the base, to just before the tip. His breathing slowed, he felt like he had control again but lost it all at the same time. Only in this moment did Tav and his needy cock matter.

Enver slightly lifted his hips, thrusting- rutting into his hold on his member. Curving his hips up by inches and down by inches. Over and over in a slow aching pace. Tav could be attainable. Under the tadpole’s control, he could figure out a way to make them his- his thing.

He stopped his movements, lifted his hand to his mouth, gathered as much spit in his dried mouth as he could muster. A pathetic amount stringing onto his middle and fore finger. He set his hand back down, rubbing it on his cock greedily. He picked his pace again, up and down with his hand, reaching the tip this time.

He released a short huffed sigh, his back twitched- removing his lazy posture from the back of the chair. He was hunched over now, neck angled up to keep his eyes on their body. His eyebrows sewn together, giving a very needy expression towards the screen. Hand picking up the pace, the spit had done a shitty job and dried up too quickly. A tacky feeling left behind in his hand. He once more took as much spit as he could gather in his mouth, he tried, he really did. He removed his eyes from the screen, only a flicker, to spit on his cock. The noise he made from aiming and spitting was pathetic. As fast as he flickered his eyes down, they were back on the screen. The image of his red, bulging veins, irritated dick, precum still headed at the top with unbroken surface tension was burned into his mind to regret later. Or possibly day dream.

His hand didn’t stop pumping. He hummed in desperation, a bit broken. He was getting close and he picked up the pace. He didn’t have the energy to stand up but he didn’t want to cum sitting down, it wasn’t as pleasurable. He stood up and kneeled slowly on the seat, his knees adjusting his pose as he sought most pleasurable. One knee ended up on the chairs base, the other on the arm rest with his hips lifted up right. His dick directed at the screens. One hand gripped the unoccupied arm rest to keep his balance. The chair would leave red indents on his knees after, creaky and sore too.

Wrist tired, eyes widened and daunting the one screen he focused on. His hand focused on his mid to tip area of his cock. Hoping to milk the blood to the tip. Hand thrusting at unattainable speeds were it a real person he fucked into. He whimpered a bit, his eyebrow creasing even more as he let out breathy moans. His whole body quivered with his forearm’s grip and fast movement. His hips jutted forward sensitively as he neared his peak. He tried to keep upright but he lost his balance in the pleasure. He let out gasps and tight moans as he keeled forward. Eyes shut and using his imagination to guide him now.

He was so desperate to release, all that build up. He lifted his eyes once more to his favorite monitor and saw through his purple scrying spy; Tav, who had hunched shoulders and hips positioned forward, pretty veiny hands adorning those hips too. Thumbs dipping into their lower back, and fingers gripping the peak of their hips. Their pelvic bone was prominent, or something to his imagination. They seemed relaxed. They were speaking to some bugbear with trades. A smile on their lightly painted lips, their eyes creating crows feet as they giggled a bit. What he wouldn’t do to see their eyes scrunch up at him and their mouth opening and lips curving from something he did to them.

He couldn’t chase his release any farther. He had chased it to the precipice. His body jerked and his hands kept at it. His cum shot out onto the floor and leaked between his pointer and thumb. His cum was warm, very warm. White flashes and hot cold chills ran through his shoulders and arms as he neared the very end of his orgasm. He nn’ed and mm’ed in a whiny pitch. This was the first time that night he had felt anything close to cold. His pace was slower but still brutal as he milked every white drop he could from the puffy tip. He only ran his fingers to his mid base and tip, the most sensitive area he had. Red and irritated. He could relate to his cock in this moment.

His hips jerked unexpectedly again as he stopped cautiously, slightly overstimulating himself.

He steadied and huffed evenly. Catching his breath, he released a large sigh. His hair draped over his eyes and his side burns clung to his face slightly with sweat. His mouth shut and his lips touched. Breathing through his nose. His hand was sticky, his glove was a mess. Cum seeped between the gold metal and his warm fingers. His drooping member was a mess. He slowly, very slowly, unglued his hand from his dick.

He blinked at the stone floors a couple of times, sighing again. He lifted his head up, looking around him. His neck was stiff and terribly tense from his previous position. He got into the chair, like a normal person. Ass bare against the velvet lined cushion. Looking around for anything he could use to clean up his fingers, at the least.

He stilled as he reached down to pick up a tossed set of destitute clothes from previous prisoners, sitting in a crate beside the wall in front of him. He looked up at the blue lit rectangle where Tav taunted him. Tav was now talking to a devout gnome bent on controlling gnolls through the Absolute, the back of Tav’s thighs and ass still took up much of the screen. It was a relief in some places of his mind that the scrying eye was a one way mirror for him.

Tav is as Tav does.

He just jerked it to some stranger. He was sickened a bit. Though, an important stranger. Ketheric, no matter how immortal, wouldn’t last their stubborn goodwill. Gortash would have a chance to meet them, he was sure of it. Maybe their next meeting shouldn’t be on his mind while he twisted and wrang his fingers from his cum.

This wouldn’t be the last time he saw Tav. He knew it. This wouldn’t be the last time he sought relief in them either.

#bg3 #enver gortash #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 gortash #bg3 act 2 #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #gortav #gortash x tav #bg3 x tav #bg3 tav

38 notes · View notes

angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Text

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None mostly. Goldfish slander, some minor injuries resulting from clumsiness, mentions of events from the show. Layla is here! We stan a healthy, happy divorced couple in this house >=\

A/N: There will be multiple chapters like these in this series, mostly dialogue and filler to help facilitate plot.

Taglist: @shirukitsune @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @bad4amficideas

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 4:

Old, Unhappy, Far-Off Things

"You guys can't keep doing this." Layla said over the phone.

"I know, I know." Marc sighed, running his hands through his hair. He haphazardly sprinkled some fish flakes into the tank to feed the ever chubby goldfish; looking at the glass to see Steven's reflection staring back at him, a frown creasing his features.

(Marc, you're going to make 'em pop!) Steven scolded.

"Well, how am I supposed to know how much to feed three goldfish?" Marc groaned.

"Steven told you the fish were gonna explode, eh?" Layla laughed softly.

"Yeah. Almost exactly that. I swear, I've never met a man who needs an emotional support fish." He replied, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, screwing the lid back onto the tiny container of nasty-smelling flakes.

(How dare you! Gus and his friends are members of this family! You're going to hurt their feelings!) Steven said, absolutely aghast at Marc's summary of how the little aquatic creatures fit into their lives.

(The other two don't even have names yet, hermanito.) Jake finally piped in, coming to co-front to see what all the fuss was about.

"But seriously, Marc. You have to take it easy. Just tell Khonshu to shove off and ignore his bony ass for a few days!" Layla sighed. Though they weren't married or intimate anymore, Layla still cared deeply for "her boys"; even Jake, to a point. Even if she didn't fully trust him, he was a part of Marc and Steven. Part of their system. She knew Jake was the protector. She knew that he was only violent when he absolutely had to be.

Or when Khonshu sent him after fresh targets. She still didn't like that.

"You think I haven't tried that?" Marc flopped onto the sofa, his hand resting over his face as he sighed.

"He's a god, Layla. It's not so easy to just say no."

"Taweret doesn't seem to have a problem with boundaries." She pointed out.

"Because Taweret is a big softie, Layla. She literally mothers you." Marc retorted with a grunt.

"Well… she is the goddess of motherhood. One of them, anyway." Layla conceded.

"And Khonshu is the god of being a tall, harping asshole who refuses to let me rest." Marc leaned back, closing his eyes as the leather on the sofa softly groaned under his weight.

"You think we like working for him, still? We don't. We need the suit, and people need to be kept safe..."

"Have you considered just… giving it all up? Telling Khonshu you're done? Just hang up the cape?" Layla hummed.

Marc could feel Steven and Jake fade into the background of the headspace, leaving him alone to his conversation with Layla, not enjoying the current topic at all. And it would be smarter to prevent a possible argument between Jake and Marc, right now. They had enough headaches.

"I already tried that, remember? Khonshu just used Jake before we knew he was here and had him kill Harrow."

"Right…"

"And besides…" Marc said, conspiratorially. "...I think he already has his sights set on another person to be a Moon Knight. And I don't know who it is, but I know he's going to hold it over my head. Steven, Jake and I would rather be dead than let some poor, innocent person see the shit we have."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Okay… You obviously need a mental health break. Anyplace in particular you can go to get away from everything?"

"Well… there is one place. A little shop Steven found that's nearby." Marc replied.

"Is it a bookstore?" Layla laughed.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Marc chuckled. "Some woman runs it. American, if you can believe that. Apparently the store was her aunt's or something and she inherited it from her when she died. Steven's built a bit of a rapport with her. Me too. Kinda. She also sells stuff like coffee, tea, snacks… kind of like a one-person cafe."

"She runs it alone?"

"Yeah, impressive actually. But, it's not always safe, I saw that the other day." Marc nodeed.

"Oh? What happened?" Layla asked, wholly invested now. They had a friend? She likely didn't know about their DID, but Marc, and by that extension Steven, and possibly Jake having friends was a win in Layla's book.

"Some abusive drunk ran in after his girlfriend. Apparently she hid his girlfriend in her flat upstairs when she came in covered with bruises and freaking out." Marc said, smiling a bit at remembering your tenacity and urge to protect somebody you didn't even know. Even Jake respected you after that. And Jake respects very few people.

But it proves you were a protector, like he was. Not to the same extent, but close.

"Sounds like a good person."

"She seems like one. I just hope she doesn't get herself into trouble with anymore–ah!" Marc hissed, dropping the phone and waving his hand in the air as pain whipped through his fingertips.

"Shit!" He cursed, picking up the phone again with his other hand. He glared at the red marks appearing in his palm.

"Marc? Are you okay? What happened?" Layla asked, her voice just a hair above worried.

"Yeah, just my fucking hands again. Last week it was my shins." He grunted.

"So either you're getting old," Layla teased. "Or a certain someone hurt themselves again."

"Yeah, just wish they'd quit it. It's really inconvenient."

"That's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

"What?" Marc asked, his brow furrowing as he watched the burning red marks blossom on his skin. Pretty, almost, if you were into that sort of messed-up body art.

"Marc, please don't tell me you haven't considered that every time you got hurt, your soulmate felt those pains, too?" Layla deadpanned with a sigh, most likely pinching the bridge of her nose. He could picture it now. She was probably pacing in the kitchen of her flat in Cairo; the sun illuminating her figure, making her curls glow in an amber light, highlighting her jaw as she frowned.

But the thought she triggered in his mind sent a stone dropping into his gullet. Had he really not considered that? He thought that maybe, being Moon Knight would… would dull the pains, or maybe negate them entirely. Or… was he just stupid and didn't put them into consideration?

If they can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs... what about when he…

But sometimes it felt redundant to think about and worry for someone he never met, but at the same time…

"Fuck." Marc hissed, wiping at his face.

"Oh, my gods! You haven't been careful at all have you?" Layla gasped.

"I…"

"Marc! You and the other two need to get it together and take it easy. You think you don't understand things? Imagine how your soulmate feels. They're probably going about their normal daily routines and feel it when you get shot! Oh gods, what about when we were in Egypt and you got impaled?" Layla murmured. "Gods, I almost forgot about… what about when you died? I don't even want to imagine what they felt."

Marc dropped back into the cushions staring blankly at the ceiling. She voiced the very thing he himself was hesitant to mention.

"I… I forgot about that, too." Marc said, his voice almost flat.

"I imagine they must have been confused when their mark reappeared."

"Fuck…" Marc groaned, feeling exhaustion suddenly creep into his body. But then, he jerked, gripping the back of his head. "Damn it!"

"Another pain?" Layla mused.

"God–yeah. Right in the back of my head." Marc grunted.

"Yikes. Your soulmate must not be having a good day." Layla chuckled.

"Whoever they are, they're accident-prone as all hell!" He grumbled, pouting as he rubbed the fresh sore spot.

"Pot callin' kettle, Maaaarc." Layla sang softly over the phone.

"Yeah, yeah. You sound like Steven."

"Good."

"Ugh, please don't say that." Marc said, a smirk cracking his mask of discomfort. "He's already nagging me."

"Okay, okay…" Layla quieted for a moment. "Hey, Marc?"

"Yeah?"

"I might take a trip to London. Maybe if I'm there, Taweret and I can run interference for you to give you a break." Layla suggested.

"Layla… You don't–"

"Already looking at plane tickets." She interrupted.

"Of course you are." Marc smiled. That was one of the things he loved about Layla when they first met. He was drawn to her. Her snark, her determination…

"Yeah. I'll pack a bag and hop the flight that leaves in a few hours."

"Wow, okay." Marc said, his eyes widening. "You're serious about this?"

"Who else is going to babysit you three and get Khonshu off your back if me and the Hippo Mama don't?" Layla jabbed playfully.

"Oh my god, you do not call her that." Marc snorted, shaking his head.

"She thinks it's a cute nickname. And she agrees with my plan, so…"

"Oh great. You two gonna just harp me and remind me to take my vitamins, too?"

"I mean, if we have to…"

"Ugh. You're impossible."

"But that's why everyone loves me!" Layla laughed.

"Sure, sure. And Layla?" Marc asked, looking at the mark on his wrist, a soft fond look in his eyes. It was blooming today, the rose.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem, Marc. Go hang at that bookstore and get a coffee or something, yeah?"

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You hurried up the stairs and rushed to your oven, frantically cursing with each step as you hauled yourself up the stairs and into your flat.

You practically ripped the oven door open, coughing as smoke filled your nostrils as the burned pastries greeted you.

"Damn it!" You whine, slipping your oven mitt on and grabbing the small pan with one hand.

Your phone started ringing and you spun on your heels to glare at the offending object secured to the wall.

"Oh, shut up, you–"

You felt the pan tip when you turned, the blackened treats threatening to fall to the floor, and without thinking you reached out with you other, unprotected hand and gripped it, before making a sharp yelp and throwing the pan onto the counter with a loud bang, blowing air over your burning and blistering hand.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You hiss, turning to your sink and hitting the tap for some cold water. The stinging subsided, if only minutely.

The phone rang incessantly again.

You dropped your shoulders and rolled your eyes with a groan, and pulled away from the soothing coldness of your tap.

But, of course, as your natural "luck" would have it… You trailed water onto your floor, and slipped into it, cracking the back of your head on the tile. Not hard enough to knock you out, no, but it was just enough to hurt, and leave a rather nasty bump.

So. There you lay, flat on your back, water still flushing into the drain of your sink, smoke detector now going off, and your house telephone ringing impertinently.

"I didn't do anything! Why're you guys always giving me the short end of the stick?" You shout at nothing in particular; maybe whatever gods could hear your lamentations and rueful words.

For extra effect, you flipped the bird with your uninjured hand.

Yeah.

Fate was a funny thing, all right.

Chapter 5: Link

#my writing #A Rose Under The Moon #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #layla el faouly #moon knight

110 notes · View notes