#david walker

[lycheeluvaa]

oh i know a fire extinguisher hates to see hesh's ass...

[nerwdle]

drew my last reblog yayayyy, yall dont have any idea of how much i love hesh, its so dumb MA SHAYLAAAUUGHHHH OUGHH

[lizzy019]

𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒾-𝓂𝑒, 𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒾-𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒾-𝓌𝑒!

David “Hesh” Walker x Pregnant!Reader [afab reader]

cw -> pregnancy but mainly fluff.. and going into labour was cut short :)

Word Count -> 1K

Part one (MDNI)

34 weeks.

34 weeks pregnant with a prominent baby bump, hormones flying everywhere and your body changing rapidly to accommodate a child.

Breast pumps were purchased, a hospital bag was packed way in advance, and poor Hesh had been working relentlessly to make enough money to keep you and your child afloat.

Regardless, as a Lieutenant, 65,000 dollars a year was plenty when you considered your work as an accountant. It was lovely seeing him work harder, but it worried you more.

This time it wasn’t, “What if David doesn't come back?” Now it’s “What if David doesn’t come when our child is ready to be born?”

You hobbled yourself to the kitchen to make yourself food, craving the most random eggs and avocado mixture which sounded disgusting, but your body wanted it.

A kick landed in your inner stomach, and you winced a bit. The child was active, even during the night, and especially when you had your hot baths.

You rubbed the swollen flesh of your stomach, sighing in tiredness as you put your now scrambled eggs onto the frying pan to cook.

A quiet three knocks hit your door, and you knew who it was but David of course had the key. The door had opened and Riley ran in first, the little tapping of his nails trotting down the halls alerted you and you smiled.

“In the kitchen!” You called out, hearing the duffel bag thud to the ground and footsteps near.

It wasn’t long until Riley spotted you and licked at your thigh gently. He was kinder since you got pregnant, and he just knew by the smell of you that you were going through it.

Whining from Riley made a chuckle rise from David as he followed the pup into the kitchen, seeing you with a much bigger belly bump than he remembered and he instantly began peppering kisses to your cheek, jaw and neck.

“My mama’s gonna be a real mom soon. I’m so happy, you’re gonna be the best mom.” He murmured, watching you cook up some eggs for yourself.

“Sorry I didn’t make you anything, I didn’t know you were gonna be home so soon. I thought you were gonna be back by midnight again.” You said softly, kissing his cheek back in greeting before dishing out the finished eggs. A bit of mashed avocado was put on top, and while it disgusted you, one bite of it had every nerve in your body loosen.

“...Eggs and avocados? That’s new.” David chuckled at your weird choice, but made his way into the kitchen for some pork slices, cheese and mayo to make a simple sandwich.

“You’re saying mine is weird, but pork, cheese and mayo?” You teased back, kissing his cheek and going to sit at the kitchen table.

Watching him in his full glory was always your most memorable ritual, just looking him up and down had hearts form in your eyes.

“Mama, your pregnancy cravings are growing on me.” He responded, smiling.

David finished his sandwich and sat beside you, feeding Riley a piece of the pork slice and shooing him off before happily eating away.

This made you smile wide.

“If you’re such a good doggy daddy, you’ll be a good dad in general.” You murmured happily, finishing your food and pushing the plate aside.

David smiled at that, pressing his forehead to your shoulder for a moment before finishing off his sandwich.

His hands found their way to your baby bump, gently rubbing and feeling for any kicks.

“While I was gone, did you find out the gender?” He asked with a small nervous expression. He didn’t care about gender, he just wanted a healthy baby. Well.. he was leaning towards a boy.

“You promise not to scream bloody murder at the news?” You smiled.

David nodded with vigour, excited for the reveal.

You took a soft deep breath, and gently took his hands in yours. His warmth, it was back.

“It’s a boy.” You said simply.

David gave the softest “yes!” as if he scored some big win, and smashed a big kiss to your cheek. For the rest of the day, he was tied to your hip and talked to your baby bump way more than before.

Even if it was a bit nerve wracking to let a baby into the world at its worst, you were happy that it was with David.

Inside the hospital with monitors going for checkups on the child you managed to push out of you, David sat at your side with eyes blown wide. He’s seen people die, not being born! He made the mistake of taking a peek.

So there he was, watching your face soothe as a nurse gave you a bit more pain medication and run off to go check up on the others.

“You okay, mama? You did it, you’ve reached the checkpoint.” He assured you, squeezing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

You smiled so softly, you were certain it didn’t show. But your happiness was apparent when your hand gently squeezed his.

“I did it? No, you were a great help during the process. We did it, David.” You chuckled, speaking almost above a whisper.

The doctor came in with your child wrapped in a blue towel to signify its gender, and placed it on your chest for you to cradle.

Hands gently holding the child, the cries of the baby were the most angelic sound. The baby was alive, healthy, and even if there was a spike in one of the vitals, they said it was a common thing for newborns and it’d go down in a few weeks.

“We still haven’t had time to choose a name, David.” You reminded him.

He thought hard, looking at the child and back at you every now and then. It hit him like a train, the idea he had.

David gently took the baby from your hands, looking at the sweet face of his child, the sweet fuzz of hair growing and the red cheeks.

“Jakob. Jakob Walker.”

[forsworned]

˗ˏˋFORSWORNED'S CALL OF DUTY MASTERLISTˎˊ˗

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Simon has an onlyfans pt.1 (nsfw)

Simon has an onlyfans pt. 2 (nsfw)

Admiration

It's (not) just sex (nsfw)

Romantic

Baby makin' (nsfw)

Use your heart (nsfw)

Let me hear you (nsfw)

Blow out all the candles (nsfw)

Hush, don't think you've made it under my skin (nsfw)

drabbles:

Four-leafed clover (nsfw themes)

Family affair

Hot and bothered (nsfw)

Predator and prey (nsfw)

Soft (nsfw)

Like a tattoo

JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH

Sexy stretching (nsfw)

Casual (nsfw)

drabbles:

So wrong (nsfw)

Johnny can't help but overhear the conversation you're having with Kyle about your hook-up gone wrong...

✯ SAVING SERGEANT MACTAVISH

𝗌𝗒𝗉𝗇𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗌: 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗅 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇𝗇𝗒'𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁. 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝖾𝖽?

⤷ KNOCKING AT DEATH'S DOOR

KYLE 'GAZ' GARRICK

Jinx! you owe me a soda (nsfw)

Breach of privacy (slight nsfw)

The Penitent (nsfw)

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

Sweet nectar (nsfw)

EPISODIC POLY!TF141 SERIES

Failed mission blues

Bumblin' fool

Crazy cat lady

Coddling

Favorite

Tears and taunting

Espresso many feelings

Y/n loses a bet

Dream blunt rotation

Androgynous y/n

KEEGAN RUSS

I wanna take a read on your disco stick (nsfw)

Something good can work (nsfw)

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ (nsfw)

DAVID 'HESH' WALKER

Dirty little daydreams (nsfw)

Passenger seat lovers (nsfw)

Munch (nsfw)

No pictures, please!

No one noticed (nsfw)

LOGAN WALKER

Crush (ft. bluecollarworker!logan) (nsfw)

I always feel like somebody's watching me (nsfw)

Like father like daughter

Like father like daughter pt.2

ELIAS WALKER

God knows I tried (nsfw)

HEADCANONS

HOW THEY WOULD REACT TO...

⤷ "Hey guys, I'm with my boyfriend, ____" trend. ft. TF141

Keegan despises new age slang ft. Kick and Merrick

Divorcee Hesh

What if you and Johnny were so close... (nsfw??)

I feel like if the boys didn't join the army they'd all be blue-collar workers...

Johnny definitely gets turned on when you grab his ass...

INCORRECT COD QUOTES

one

two

three

four

five

[loganbathwater]

[aoioozora]

Valentine

Content: Elias Walker x Daughter! Reader, good ol' daddy-daughter fluff, all wholesome Word count: 2.7k Note: People with daddy issues are gonna love this (I hope) lol. Enjoy!

Elias thought that having two boys was enough children but when Mama Walker wanted to have one more, he thought "well, why not make my wife happy?" and so they tried again.

Nine months later in the delivery room, the nurse announced gleefully that Mama Walker had given birth to a girl.

A girl!

Elias was pleasantly surprised. He thought he'd have another boy, but a girl... His mind was buzzing when the nurse brought the swaddled baby to him. He took the child in his arms, carefully holding her just like he did his two little boys who came before her. But holding her was different. It was a girl. A sweet little angel. He stared at the newborn with awe. A girl. He'd never considered what having a girl would be like. He was a guy's guy, rough and tough officer in the military. But now, he was face to face with a little girl; her tiny little face and her even tinier hands and feet, and her wail signifying life. His heart melted.

Mama Walker, in the hospital bed, wished she would have taken a photo of the sight.

He'd keep looking at his little baby girl every day from her first sight to her first steps to her first words. He doted on her like a mother hen, beaming at Mama Walker and their two sons at every milestone. Being a girl dad, he loved it more than he expected.

Watching you grow up was bittersweet. You'd cry about mean boys and girls in your class, and then worry about pimples and period stains and cramps, about your grades, about crushes that didn't like you back. It was a rollercoaster of emotions raising a little girl to become a young woman.

But the most painful thing for him to see was you sad or crying.

Valentine's day had come and both your elder brothers had left the house to go on dates with their girlfriends, leaving you at home lonely and sad. It was a huge blow to your esteem that no boy ever looked your way, and so you sat in your room, sulking and playing video games to distract yourself.

Elias had just walked out of your room after checking on you and he sighed heavily as he stepped downstairs, thinking of what he could do to cheer you up. He saw Mama Walker in the kitchen, taking care of some dishes. Pursing his lips, he called out,

"Honey, I'm going to the store for a bit. You want anything?"

Mama gave him a small list of things and he set out.

Not too long later, while you were now reading a romance novel in bed throwing yourself a pity-party, there was a knock on your door.

"Come in," you called out unenthusiastically.

"Open the door for me, will you?" came your dad's voice.

You lazily hauled yourself off your bed and opened the door. "What's up-"

Your words stopped in their tracks when you saw your dad right in front of you, suited up, his grey hair neatly combed, and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He looked a little embarrassed, but determined.

"You wanna go on a date with me?" he asked, grinning widely.

Your jaw laxed as you stared at him. "What...?"

"It's Valentine's day," he replied, standing up straight and resisting the urge to cross his arms and shift his weight on one leg to hit the dad pose, "I want to take you out."

A smile broke your tired, sullen face. "Take me out?" you asked teasingly, poking his shoulder, "You're not talking about those training sessions where you take us out, are you?"

"No, no, not at all," he shook his head, chuckling. He was about to order you to get dressed but he cleared his throat and instead asked as he held the bouquet out to you, "So, what will it be? Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You accepted the flowers with an emphatic, "Yes!"

Elias headed downstairs to wait for you while you got dressed in your best outfit. He whispered to Mama that the plan had worked and she couldn't help but give her husband a big fat kiss for being the sweetest.

When you finally came downstairs, your mother gushed at how beautiful you looked. Elias stood up from the couch where he was seated, watching you descend; he was almost transported back to the 90s when he was dating your mother, for you looked so much like her.

"Dad?" you called, wondering why he looked so dazed.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Oh, sorry," he inhaled, smiling, "I was just thinking of how much you look like your mother," he explained, fondly looking at his wife, who smiled back at him. He turned back to you and stepped closer, held your face in his calloused hands and gave you a loving, fatherly kiss to your forehead, before putting his hands on your shoulders and exclaiming, "You look wonderful."

You could only smile and grin. Mama watched fondly, finding it funny how he roughhoused his sons but treated his daughter like she was gold. He had a soft spot for his boys, but an even softer spot for his girl. 

After taking a photo of both of you, Mama saw you and Elias at the door. "Have fun, both of you!" she called, smiling as she watched her husband escort their daughter to the car and open the door for her.

"See you soon, mom!" you waved. Your dad also waved at her and then drove off.

"So, where are you taking me?" you asked, grinning excitedly.

"Sit tight, darling. You'll see," he chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Consider this a date, but also consider this an example of what you should look for in a good man, do you understand?"

You nodded. He smiled at you and then turned to the road, sighing. "You're growing so fast..." he said in a tone that was bittersweet.

"Daaaad," you chide him playfully, "Come on, we're out here to have a good time, not a sad time."

He let out another chuckle. "Sorry, I just..." he looked at you again and pinched your cheek lightly, "You'll know when you're a parent yourself."

You rolled your eyes, smiling at how much he doted on you. Sitting back, you watched the lighted lamp posts fly past you and then glanced at your father, who was concentrating on the road. The brief silence was comfortable, and you felt so lucky to have a father like him. He had his shortcomings, but you knew he had your best interest in mind. And to see him go out of his way to take you out when he didn't have to just showed you how much he cared.

He soon pulled into a parking spot in front of a rather fancy looking restaurant. He stopped you from opening your door, and quickly got out of his seat to open it for you, just like a proper man should.

You smilingly got out and he held out his arm to you. You giggled as you slipped your hand into his arm. "You're going all out, aren't you?"

He nodded emphatically. "Of course. You must know how to identify a good man who will care for you," he began to lead the way to the restaurant, "And if he doesn't at least go out of his way to do little things like these, he's no good. Have some high standards."

You took mental note of his advice as he opened the door for you, gesturing you to enter first. It was wonderfully gratifying to you to experience this; you'd see him treat your mother the same way, and you longed for someone to do the same to you. Even if it was just your father for now, it made you beam as you entered.

Elias was relieved to see your change of mood. He led you to a table which he thought was the best ventilated, lighted, and had the best view of the outdoors, hoping it would make you happier. It did. You loved the window seats.

As both of you scoured through the menu, he said, "Get anything you like. Now, because I'm your dad, I'll buy you whatever you want from this menu, but remember, on an actual date with a guy who is paying for the meal, be considerate and never order the most expensive dish. Order something that would be reasonable." He paused, looking through the prices of the dishes, "Unless he's rich and insists on you getting something else." He gives you a playful wink.

You chuckled, nodding. After both of you had placed your orders, you sat back and asked, "Should the guy always pay for the meal on a date?"

He took a thoughtful sip from his glass of water. Letting out a sigh, he said, "Well, I was raised traditional, so I would say that the man should pay for the meal on a date, since he's the provider." He paused and crossed his arms pensively, "On my dates with your mother, I always paid, even if she insisted on paying sometimes. It didn't feel right to me, because I wanted to show her I could take care of her.” He then looked at you. “But times are changing. I hear that women want to pay for dates too. That should be something you decide with your future partner.”

Your meals soon came as the conversation continued over them. Your dad thoroughly enjoyed his medium-rare steak, veggies, and mashed potatoes, approvingly nodding and humming. When he saw you slowly getting through your meal, he asked, 

“Too much?”

You shook your head. 

“Another piece of advice,” he said, smiling widely, “choose a man who can finish your meal for you when you're full.”

You snorted. “Is that why mom married you?” 

He laughed. “Of course! Your mother has always been conscious about wasting food, so I reassured her by eating whatever she couldn’t eat. And besides, being in the army is a lot of work, so you need a lot of food anyway.”

After the meal and a lovely dessert, both of you headed out, arm in arm again. When he asked you where you wanted to go next, you told him that you wanted to go to the park.

“The park? Are you sure you don’t want to go to the mall and empty my wallet?” he asked teasingly as he strapped on his seatbelt.

You pouted at him and he laughed, remembering the same pout on you whenever he pulled your leg as a toddler. Nothing’s changed, he couldn’t help but think.

He drove you to the park. It was late in the evening, and there were only a few people lounging about and walking around within its confines, and so the two of you comfortably strolled around, enjoying the cool air. 

You made a beeline to the playground and situated yourself right on the swingset, looking at your dad with sparkling eyes, begging him to push you like he always did. 

“You’re a spoiled little brat, aren’t you?” he said with an affectionate scoff as he tramped on the sandy playground and stood behind you, grabbing the thick chains and pulling the swing back.

“That’s all your fault,” you answered with a cheeky smile.

He laughed. That was true. He doted on you and spoiled you rotten, all because you were the youngest and his little girl. He pushed you as hard as he could, and relished in your giggles as you swung high up in the air. 

He pushed again, smiling to himself. He was a Captain, commanded many soldiers with military strictness and nobody could move him; his word was law. But there were only two people in the world who had him all wrapped up around their little fingers: his wife and his daughter.

His mind turned him back to reality and he was still pushing you on the swing, and you were having the time of your life. He soon decided to ease up on the pushing, and then settled on the swing right next to yours, watching your swing lose momentum. 

“Thanks, dad,” you said with a grin, “That was fun!”

He smiled back fondly, watching you gently rocking yourself on the swing once it had slowed down completely. There was a moment of comfortable silence between both of you, until you looked up at him, taking in for a moment how weathered he looked under the harsh white lights of the park, reminding you of how long he’s lived.

“Dad?” you called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think it’s weird that a grown girl like me still wants to play on the swings?” 

He chuckled. Grown girl. You were a teenager, still a little child to him. But he couldn’t deny that you were growing. It would only be a matter of a couple years before you became a young woman ready to tackle the world. He shifted slightly in his seat.

“I guess some people who are no fun would think it’s childish,” he answered, “But I don’t think so. I think it’s good to have and retain some childlikeness even as you grow up…”

His voice trailed off for a moment to think, and you didn’t interrupt him, sensing that he had more to say. He smiled.

“I know as a teenager, you tend to care about what other people think. But trust me, the sooner you forget to do that, the better. You’ll live life so much better that way.” 

“That feels so hard to do,” you shrugged, “It’s like… I feel so inferior because I’m not like the others… and even more so now that nobody asked me out on a date for Valentine’s day.” Your hands gripped the chains of the swing slightly, “Maybe the boys think I’m too childish, I don’t know.” 

He sighed and gently swung himself, using his feet to push against the ground. “The thing about teenagers, darling,” he began, “a lot of them care about appearing grown and mature, which is expected- they’re growing up, obviously. But what’s not obvious to them is that they’re still children. They will have some childish beliefs that they will eventually wean off.

“Remember, a real guy who truly loves you will not shame you for loving these “childish” things. Any man with real sense will understand that there’s a reason why you love the things you love, so don’t settle for less.

“And besides, I’d rather you grow up a little more before you date. I would not stand to see you dating any of these little, immature boys who would break your heart,” he huffed.

You playfully pouted. “You’re no fun, dad.”

He scoffed. “No fun because I’m looking out for you?”

Both of you shared a laugh, and you couldn’t help but feel so happy that you could safely confide in him and playfully jab at him without being judged or scolded. After a little more conversation, your dad looked at his watch. He slapped his knees and got off the swing with a grunt.

“Right then, I should take you back home before your curfew,” he said, holding out his hand to you, “Because a real man gets you back home at a reasonable hour without worrying your parents.” 

You chuckled, taking his hand. “You’re a real man.”

“That’s why your mom chose me,” he bragged, “Take notes.”

It made you giggle, thinking of how your mom would sometimes gush about her husband to you and your brothers, making the three of you roll your eyes and laugh. The years passing only made them love each other more and more, and you could not have asked for better parents than them. 

Arm in arm once again, he escorted you to the parking lot. As he got in the car after you and strapped on the seatbelt, he asked,

“How about we make this a tradition until you get yourself a boyfriend?”

You smiled widely. “Sure.” Your eyes lingered appreciatively on your father and you said, feeling a surge of affection for him, “I love you, dad.”

He beamed, a bright smile gracing his weathered face. Those words made all the effort and toil he took to raising you worth it. He ruffled your hair. 

“Love you too, kiddo.”

[cloangi]

Guys, I promise I'm not dead. Just hadn't drawn anything (until now that is)

Enjoy my pencil sketches that were finalized with pen 🗣🔥

I drew more Hesh on my class white board

[heshwalkerhusband]

LMAO The life-size Hesh made me laugh 🥺🥺

I want that room 😭😭

(And Hesh's cardboard too, and the savannah the same )

I lost who the credits were from, but I got this from X !!

[shoukiko]

Thinking about talking to Hesh about you having a crush on someone in Ghosts, not saying names, but he assumes it’s Logan, only for it to be Keegan

“I’m just nervous since he rarely talks to me, but when he does it’s to be nice… ya kno?”

“Yea I get it, he’s just like that.”

“And I’m a little nervous since his age..”

“Eh it’s not that bad I don’t think you need to worry.”

“You think so? Do you think I should say something?”

“Yea why not? Shoot your shot I’ll be rooting for ya. :)”

Then when he finds out it was Keegan he’s just gobsmacked like

:O

[ravenwalkerx]

David "Hesh" Walker moodboard (:

[lesbian-thesbian]

david walker javert !!

🎥 @medium-observation

[ghouljams]

'Til Death (Remember Me in Your Will)

Rating: Mature (Minors Do Not Interact) Words: 3.7k Tags: David "Hesh" Walker/F!Reader, Sugar Daddy au, Dom/sub undertones, flirting Summary: You start dating Hesh as a way to supliment your income. It's not like you've never sugared before, you know how to play this game. It's just too bad Hesh seems to have his own ideas about what this relationship is. Next Chapter -> ao3

You’ve always been smart. You don’t know if you’ve always been pretty, but you try not to be too harsh on your younger self. You also have bills to pay. You’re fortunate enough to be doing what you love, working a job you’re passionate about, and getting paid shit all for it. Luckily you’re not the one paying your bills. You have sugar daddies for that.

Like you said, pretty, and smart enough not to rely on one stream of cash. You have a couple men you sugar for, all old enough to make sure they know you’re not looking for love, and with enough experience to get you off at the end of the night. It’s a good situation, everyone gets what they want, and you don’t worry about your job paying you barely above minimum wage. When one man drops you, you hit up your favorite sites for another. Which is how you got here, staring at Hesh with a cup of coffee held tight between your hands and a hangover that throbs like a lobotomy.

What you don’t know is how he got in, but you’re more focused on his offer than anything else. Drop the other men you sugar for to be his exclusively, and he’ll double every dollar they pay you monthly. You’re not greedy by any stretch of the word, but your mouth waters at the proposal. That’s a lot of money he’s laying on the table.

“And what about sex?” You ask him. It’s been months of dating him, and Hesh still hasn’t touched you. In fact the smoldering tension between you has made all your other relationships feel cold. Forcing you to rely on your toys after sex these days when your other daddies fail to perform. That doesn’t mean you want to cut it off cold turkey. You can’t, not when he still makes you throb eagerly even with the hangover migraine. If he doesn’t want you, there’s no deal. 

There’s something steely in Hesh’s eyes when he leans forward, his elbows settling on his knees. His smile is wicked, predatory, it makes goosebumps prickle over your skin. Your blood runs hot, and follows his eyes as they drop to stare between your legs.

“Baby,” He purrs, “I’ll fuck you over this table right now, all you gotta do is say yes to me.”

(six months ago)

You check your makeup in your compact mirror. Not your favorite, but you find the men you date appreciate the femininity of it. There’s something terribly alluring about swiping your pinky over the corners of your lips with a compact mirror in hand, and you don’t get that sort of sex-out-of-the-bag flavor with your phone camera. You really need all the cards you can get tonight too. You’ve got a date with a new man, a new sugar daddy. You don’t usually go for them when they’re this close in age to you, but he seemed nice, and paid in advance(no strings attached), so you’re taking the chance on him. He offered to pick you up, but… you’re not about to get trapped in a car with a man you don’t know. It’s better having a quick escape route if the date goes south.

You snap your compact shut and tuck it neatly back into your purse when you spot your date. He hands his keys to the restaurant’s valet, and offers you a smile. He’s wearing a suit, you expected as much with the caliber of restaurant he suggested, but it’s nice being dressed up for. You hold your hand out in greeting as his long strides carry him close. You’re pleasantly surprised when his fingers grip yours and raise your hand to his lips. He just grazes your knuckles, his eyes heavy on yours as he kisses your hand. They’re green, you note. Not just his eyes either, his suit too. It’s so dark you’d mistaken it as black, but it’s green, and it makes his eyes positively electric looking.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” He smiles, dropping his hold on your hand and slipping his around your back as you turn to walk into the restaurant.

“I just got here,” A white lie, you got here with ten minutes to spare, never early or late for the men you date. Your date hums, his thumb rubbing against the small of your back, right where the zipper of your dress ends. His hand splays wide, his pinky grazing the swell of your ass. It sends a little shiver through you, the touch quickly removed as your date gives his name to the host.

“Walker.” He voice, sure and even, louder than the intimate softness of his voice when he’d greeted you, makes something warm slither down your spine. 

“David Walker,” you feel the name over your tongue, adding the last name to the one he’d had on his profile. You feel the way his attention slips back to you heavily, it may as well be another hand with the warmth that it draws over you.

“My friends call me Hesh,” He sounds proud, but not like he’s puffing out his chest. There’s no bragging to the nickname, just the simple exchange of information.

He settles his hand on your back again when the host leads you to your table. The firm pressure not pushing you, not hurrying you, but steadying you. You wonder if he doubts your ability to walk in the heels you picked, or if he’s simply the touchy sort. You suppose you’ll figure it out soon enough. He pulls your chair out like a gentleman, helps you scoot in to the table, and takes his seat across from you without a wasted movement. You’ve never met a man that seemed so immediately comfortable in his own skin.

You suppose that comes with the territory. The men that pay you, pay you for a reason. You’re arm candy, or a kink, or an easy lay that’s a step better than a prostitute for men too important to “date down”. You know all sorts of men, but Hesh… Hesh seems like he could find a partner easily. Maybe it’s a time issue. You’ve only dealt with some of those. The type of man that doesn’t have the time in his life for dating. You slot the possibility into your mental file for Hesh, and settle your elbows on the table, leaning against them with a smile.

“So,” You draw the word out, give him time to eye the way your breasts push together against the low cut of your dress, “how was your day?”

It’s a simple question, one that never feels out of place, but busy men will always talk about their work. Hesh’s eyes drag over you, flicking to meet yours from their brief rest on your chest. He smiles, taking the menu set in front of him to look over as he speaks.

“I’m in the military if that’s what you’re askin’.” You feel yourself falter a little, regaining your composure, your smile, when he glances up at you.

“You must be busy,” You try, keeping your tone interested but light. You dislike intelligent men, the ones that can see through you, see through your questions, it makes it harder to play the game when both sides know the rules. But a date is a date. 

“Hard to date with deployment looming,” He admits, or perhaps supplies, helping you build your mental catalog for him. You nod, you can see that. It would certainly make it hard to keep someone around without an incentive, hence the use of a sugar baby. Ah, got it. You file him neatly into the correct box and reach for your water glass. 

“I can imagine,” You raise a brow, taking a sip, busy men like talking. Busy men tell you about themselves, what they can do for you, what you should do for them, how busy they are and how little time they have for you, as if you’re meant to be grateful for every second they allow you.

Hesh waits. He sits patiently, watching you with interest as you swipe your thumb over the lipstick stain you’ve left on the rim of the glass. He’s quiet, observant. Unnerving. Busy men talk, and Hesh isn’t talking. He’s watching, taking you in like he has all the time in the world. He sets his menu down and laces his fingers together on the table. You wish you couldn’t feel the hesitance in your fingers as you take another sip of your water, delaying the inevitable.

“Do I make you nervous,” He asks after your third sip. There’s a keen evenness to his tone, low and deep enough to shiver goosebumps over your skin. You set your water down and plaster on a smile that feels as fake as you’re sure it must look.

“Of course not.”

“You done this before sweetheart?”

“Sugar?” You can feel Hesh’s hum, the warmth of it spreads through your chest, his eyes soft and his smile inquisitive. “Once or twice.” You lie.

“Once or twice,” He turns the words back to you. An interrogation technique you often employ during these sorts of things. It works though. You bite down the need to correct him, to tell him maybe it’s more than just once or twice.

“It’s hard to pay the bills with just my work.” You explain, though you’re not sure why. Something in your stomach flutters to explain yourself to this man, the desire shakes itself through your bones. He reaches for his own water glass, draws the moment out as you watch his Adam's apple bob with the motion of swallowing. You've done this a good dozen times, but no one has put you on your toes as quickly as Hesh has. You take the moment to give him a once over. There's a slight shadow over his jaw, we'll groomed stubble that feeds its way into close cropped brown hair. Young-ish, with an age to his eyes that makes you wonder what he's been through, what he's seen. He's just at what you would call “acceptably older” if you were actually dating him, but he still wears his youth in the gleam of his smile. He watches you like a hawk, and you in turn watch him like a rabbit.

“Non-profit, right?” Hesh confirms, and you nod, before quickly giving a verbal affirmative. Verbal answers are more confident, and you've done this too many times to be losing your confidence now. Hesh is outside of your normal routine, but a sugar daddy is a sugar daddy, and at the end of the day they all want one thing. A pretty thing on their arm. They don't care about what you do or who you are, as long as you go home with them at the end of the night. “Do you enjoy it?”

The question takes you off guard. Or, not the question itself, you've heard that a hundred times at least, it's the genuine interest disguised behind an impassive smile. You blink at him.

“I-” you don't give details about your work, they don't want details, you give the necessary ‘yes’ and move on to talking about him or playing footsie under the table, “I do it’s-”

Your waiter stops beside the table, and you feel Hesh's attention leave you like a weight falling off your chest. He speaks with conviction, orders wine for the both of you, and where you usually feel as though that sort of move is right out of a “how to show women you’re the boss 101” handbook, on him it feels natural. He’s used to commanding attention, to giving orders. No wasted breath, no wasted words. Hesh orders and you wonder if he’ll do the same for your meal.

“What did you say you did in the military?” You ask when the waiter leaves, and Hesh’s eyes feel all the heavier on you for your interest.

“We were talking about you,” He corrects. The way he sits and looks at you show a man that holds not just himself to high standards, but everyone else as well. The weight of his full attention is crushing now that you’ve felt it leave you, and yet it sparks something in you. A desire to please. A desire to live up to those expectations.

He’s here for you, you don’t want to disappoint him.

You’ve never had a conversation with a man who makes you feel so aware of yourself. You can feel the brush of fabric against your skin like a touch, and each breath you take seems to tease you as your dress pulls over your chest. And his eyes… He touches every inch of exposed skin he can with them, drawing warmth over you until you’re positively alight with want. You have to excuse yourself to the restroom. He stands with you, old school manners you’ve only seen in movies, and offers a hand to help you around the table. You think you feel the brush of his fingers over your hip, his touch burning through you even when you must have imagined it. 

You fix your makeup in the bathroom mirror, attempt to clean up some of the mess you’re making in your panties. God. It’s been so long since you had a date that stoked the fire low in your stomach, a man that looked at you like something to be desired not just a sure thing. When’s the last time your date seemed so interested in you, asked questions to further your answers, brought up topics that related to something you’d mentioned and not just something he could brag about? When’s the last time you had a good date with a hot guy and weren’t worried about whether it would be worth your time?

God have you really not thought about the money this whole time? You’d been so swept up in the way Hesh spoke to you, the way he looked at you, that you couldn’t think of anything else. Even now you can’t help thinking of the way he’d purred, “Anythin’ you want,” when you’d asked what to order. The memory of his voice makes you press your thighs together. You want to know what he’d say to you without the filter of public decency. You want to know how he’d touch you behind closed doors.

He stands again when you make your way back to the table, waits for you to sit before taking his seat. You notice he’s barely touched his food since you left, only picking up his knife and fork when you do. You slot “slow eater” into your folder on him. It doesn’t matter you suppose, he sips his wine, always pours another swallow for you when you run low, and yet he seems to finish with you. His food is gone just a bite after yours is, and he leans against the table as the waiter whisks your plates away. Like he’s waiting for something.

It’s easy to slide your foot against his calf, easy to see the heat that burns in his eyes. You’re careful of your heel, but you’re well practiced in this game. He wants you, you know he wants you. That’s how these things work, pick a pretty girl off the site and take her home at the end. You get first right of refusal and some extra cash in your pocket, he gets to boast about the pretty thing he’s screwing.

“You hopin’ for something sweetheart?” Hesh catches your ankle under the table, firm fingers stopping you from trailing past his knee. His tone is casual, playful, his grip is not. “Gotta use your words like a big girl.” 

“I’m hoping we can get the check,” You purr. Your dates usually rush for it, signal the waiter as quickly as they can to shuffle you into the back seat of their car, or the nearby hotel. You don’t think you’ve had a date ever end at dinner, the same way you’re sure you’ve never had a dinner last quite as long as this. 

“We?” Hesh smiles, his thumb rubs your ankle, the friction making you shiver, “You offerin’ to split the bill little one?”

“Of course not Daddy,” the title falls from your lips with an invitation to touch further. You try not to stretch too obviously into his grip, feel the slip of your skirt as his fingers push up over your calf like a curtain drawing the evening to an end, “Just thought you might like to have dessert elsewhere.”

Hesh’s hand is warm and appreciative as it strokes your leg. You feel the drag of calluses, rough palms skating over your soft skin, and wonder how those thick fingers will feel once they’re inside you. Men like him… they like when you’re a little bold, they like knowing that you’re not too shy to avoid falling into bed on the first date. You’ve honed your edge against the predictability of the men you date, and you know you’re right by the way he catches the waiter’s eye and taps his fingers against the table.

You settle into the warm feeling of victory, and the knowledge that you’ve snagged another source of income. Not to mention the added benefit of sex. Hesh touches you with an idle sort of intimacy that makes heat throb between your legs, he touches you like it’s his right to, like he holds command over the how and when of it. You don’t think he’s the sort of man people often say ‘no’ to.

He drags his fingers over your shin, settling your foot against his knee as he takes his hand from under the table to take the check. It’s a bit of a stretch, the burn in your hamstring of keeping yourself looking presentably seated while still abiding by his placement is a wonderful precursor for the night ahead. You keep your eyes on him as he pays with barely a glance at the bill as he hands the waiter his card. The whisper of wealth. No, you don’t think people say ‘no’ to Hesh often. If ever.

Hesh slips his card back into his wallet as he stands, and moves around the table to offer you his hand. You don’t need it, but you like the way his fingers curl around yours, the firm grip he holds you with as you stand. You brush your hands over your skirt, letting the hem fall back into place. You don’t miss the way Hesh’s eyes follow the sway of your chest as you lean forward. Men are all alike, perfectly predictable.

You press close to his side, letting him feel the soft curves of your body as he leads you out of the restaurant. He hands the valet his ticket and you make a mental note to call one of your friends to come grab your car. Although you suppose you don’t have to spend the night, you can uber back here in an hour or so and grab it. The restaurant staff know you well enough they can let you park here for a bit.

“Are we going back to yours or finding a hotel?” You can’t say you aren’t interested in seeing where he lives, but a hotel is closer, and you’re ready to go.

“Neither,” Hesh hums, “you’re going home.”

He’s not- he’s not interested? Your confusion must read too clearly on your face because Hesh’s hand finds your waist and drags you close. You tip your head to avoid bumping your nose against him and he takes the motion as permission to kiss you. His lips searing yours as his hand squeezes the meat of your hip. You’re quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, quick to press against the length of him, your chest to his, your hips to his. You can feel the thick twitch of his cock where you push yourself against it. (Fuck is that all him?) He’s like a furnace, radiating warm want that soaks into your skin. The night air feels freezing on your exposed skin

Hesh’s lips part, his breath a sigh as his head tips. The soft push of his lips against yours is exceedingly gentle for the hunger you can taste behind it. It shivers down your spine, aches in the creek of Hesh’s grip on your hips, a want that you can’t quantify. Your lips slide over his, his stubble tickling you a little as you part and kiss, part and kiss, again and again. 

He presses, forces you to lean back, arching into him. You’re reliant on him to keep you standing, trusting your balance to a man you barely know. It makes your skin prickle, makes you want. You wiggle your hips, try to entice him to give you what you know he’s looking for, even slip your tongue in the part of his lips. His fingers tighten until you squeak with pain and pull away from the kiss.

He pulls you up, lets you go to take his keys from the valet. You can still feel his spit slicking your top lip, the tingle of his stubble against your bottom. You balk, the dark fabric of his suit does enough to hide the outline of his cock in the low light but you know what you felt. How can he just leave you like this?

“You’re serious.” You realize, and Hesh pauses with his hand on the top of his car.

“I am,” No wasted words. You hesitate, worry your lip between your teeth before you can stop yourself. Hesh waits you out, patient as a saint.

“But I thought-” You try to blink through your confusion, “I thought this went well.”

“It did,” Hesh smiles and it isn’t patronizing or pitying, but there’s something in it that doesn’t feel entirely friendly, “I’d like to get to know you better, that’s all sweetheart.”

You frown. The first genuine expression you’ve given him all night and it’s a furrowed brow. You fix your face before you lose the next date to your pouting. Hesh’s brows are heavy, his eyes lidding as he watches you. There is something dark and unreadable in the way he looks at you, something heady that makes you dumb. The chill rushes to you when he looks away, climbs into his car, and leaves.

[btlandlesmisfan4ever]

CR’S New Post ft some of our Students. Do you prefer the students names or their real names? Also it’s adorable how Marius says his real name. Also JT at the end 😂

[lizzy019]

The super underrated and overlooked characters in CoD that I would seriously let break me for their own dirty pleasures because they're just so goddamn fine and I would pay big money for a single fuckin smooch from any of them:

For those who don't know

Dmitry Bale

Sobieslaw Kościuszko (or Gromsko)

Sebastian Krueger

David Walker (or Hesh)

Gary Sanderson (or Roach)

Hiro Watanabe (or Oni)

[belli3-welli3]

Trying to relearn digital art! Hesh coloring practice hehehe

He’s soso fun to draw

Full canvas,,, @zippy-zaparoni put some ideas in my head

[loganbathwater]

you ever think about how significant and symbolic beaches are for the walker brothers' lore?

the one set of footprints left by the two of them on the beach in point loma, as logan walked exactly in david's footsteps, not only showcases logan doing everything after his big brother; it also symbolizes hesh' leadership, logan's loyalty, and them always protecting e/o.

the beach is coincidentally also where they see each other for the last time. david, unable to help logan due to his injuries, can only watch as his only little brother, who joined the army in his footsteps, tries to reach out for him in a plea to be saved as he's dragged away through the sand by the man who killed their father.

in the end, they don't leave that beach together. logan doesn't walk in david's footsteps anymore. david couldn't protect logan, he couldn't follow after him. it's safe to assume logan's loyalty for his big brother wavers after that.