#he wanted to run away with will and abigail. there was room for abigail in will's world. fuuuuuck man

[toontownportraits]

i don't get a choice in the matter / why would i? it's only the death of me

[lottienatsgf]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚🪐 so it goes…

“you know i’m not a bad girl but i do bad things with you”

NSFW MDNI !!!!

⋆｡𖦹 ° synopsis: jealous!abby x reader. you’ve hooked up with abby more than once, but abby wants more than that. she wants you to be just hers.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ inspired by @andersonsgirl post about wanting a jealous abby fic :-) i hope this does ur idea justice

⋆｡𖦹 ° wc: 2,086

gently placing down the last stack of cups onto the counter, you step back to admire your kitchen. you’re proud of yourself, really. with only a few hours notice to prepare your apartment for a party, it looks pretty decent. perfect timing, too, because arya walks through your front door almost seconds after you finish.

“fuck. you did it,” she breathes heavily, carrying more bottles of alcohol than one person should be allowed to carry in their arms.

“yeah, all by myself too,” you pout, helping her set the bottles down on your countertop. you move them around, arranging them in a neat line, even though you know that it’ll just be messed up once the party starts.

“i asked if you needed help!” arya exclaims, finishing with the bottles and collapsing in an armchair in your living room.

you stay quiet. there’s more things on your mind right now than bickering with your sister, such as someone who you know for a fact will be at your party.

abby anderson.

just the thought of her name sends hot waves through your chest and makes you bite your lip to keep from smiling. abby has been at every one of your parties since you arrived in seattle two years ago. those two years have been full of interactions with her. of course they would be; she’s a part of your friend group.

but your interactions with abby have been far more than platonic.

anxiously tapping your foot, you and arya wait in your chairs in the living room until the first party guest arrives. everyone else slowly trickles in afterwards, but you keep your eye out for the person you want to see most.

focusing mainly on the door, you move around throughout your apartment to check on how everyone is doing. you make small talk with the guests and quickly down a few sips of alcohol before returning to your sister’s side.

“do you think she’s coming?” you ask.

“i would think,” arya responds, “you know she’d never pass up an opportunity to see you,” her face turns into a smirk at the sight of you blushing.

“that’s not true,” you try to wave it off, but deep down, you hope it is.

finally, after an anxious half hour of waiting, abby anderson’s muscular body appears in your doorway. her eyes scan the room for a few seconds before she finds you, her face breaking into a grin as she walks over to your side.

“i’ll leave you two alone,” arya whispers, walking off as soon as abby reaches you.

“y/n,” abby greets you, a playful smirk on her face.

“abigail.”

abby laughs, her hand softly brushing yours. a shockwave runs down your body, and you pray that abby doesn’t notice.

“nice setup you’ve got going on,” she tells you, eyeing your apartment. the apartment that she’s been in so many times.

before you can respond, eric, a member of your patrol team, breaks in.

“y/n!” he greets you. your eyes snap away from abby and over to the tall, curly headed man now standing next to you.

“hey,” you greet him, looking upwards to meet his eyes.

“you look great tonight,” he compliments you, looking your body up and down. you furrow your eyebrows, but thank him for his compliment. “listen, uh,” he stammers, leaning onto the couch behind him. “you wanna grab a drink or something?”

behind you, abby coughs loudly, catching your attention. her eyes darken, looking straight into yours. “sorry,” she excuses herself, a slight tinge of annoyance in her voice.

looking back and forth between abby and eric, you cautiously accept eric’s offer to grab a drink, promising abby you’ll be back in just a minute.

eric grabs your hand, leading you to the alcohol that you had recently set up so neatly in the kitchen. just like you’d expected, everything was a mess already. eric grabs you a drink, handing it to you with a gleam in his eye.

“thank you,” you smile, taking a sip of the liquid. “how’ve you been?”

eric copies you and takes a sip from his cup. “fine,” he begins. “it’s sucked not having patrol the past few days. i’ve missed seeing you.”

“yeah, me too.”

“glad you had this party. it’s nice seeing you all dressed up,” he motions towards your outfit, a short black dress that clings tightly to your body.

“thank you,” you say hesitantly, taking another sip of your drink.

“who’s your friend back there?” he asks, glancing at abby, who immediately looks over at the two of you.

“oh, that’s abby,” you tell him, not sure how much information he wants out of you. you grip tighter on your cup, wanting to end this conversation and just return back to abby.

“you think she’d mind if we hung out?” he asks. “just us,” he adds quickly.

“oh, um, well, i was planning on hanging out with her tonight,” you stumble for words, a blush creeping up yet again onto your cheeks. it seems like every mention of abby somehow manages to do this to you.

“oh, alright, uh, thats cool,” eric says, backing up slightly. “i’ll see you around, y/n.”

you stare after him as he leaves, a questioning expression in your eyes. finally, you turn back around, making your way back to abby, who hasn’t left her spot where you last talked to her.

“abs,” you exhale, hoisting yourself up on the back of the couch so that your knees are just barely touching her legs. “i think he was flirting with me.”

“what?” her voice is filled with disgust.

“yeah,” you laugh, “he asked me if i wanted to hang out with him, like, alone.”

“oh,” her voice quiets and you can see her face tighten slightly.

“i mean, i said no. it just surprised me. he kept looking at my dress, too.”

“damn…” abby trails off, her eyes flickering around the room, refusing to make eye contact with you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, moving slightly to touch her hand.

she immediately jumps back, snatching her hand away. “nothing,” her voice is filled with annoyance.

“abby, i know you,” you begin, sliding off the couch so that you stand in front of her. “you’re-“

“y/n, i’m fine,” she snaps. “i don’t wanna talk about it.”

you don’t know what to say, so you remain silent, watching as abby walks away, disappearing into the bathroom.

“fuck,” you curse to yourself, biting down on the inside of your cheek.

you stare at the bathroom door for minutes, waiting for abby to come back out. there’s no sign of her. sighing heavily, you steady yourself in front of the door before knocking.

“i’m in here,” abby barks, her voice muffled through the door.

“it’s me.”

“jesus, i’m fine.”

“abby, i’m not leaving until you let me in,” you tell her, shifting your weight onto one leg.

there’s a moment of silence before you hear the lock click and the door opens ever so slightly. you push it open completely and slip inside, shutting it behind you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask abby for the second time.

she leans against the bathroom counter, face wound up into a stressed expression. she makes no effort to talk.

“jesus christ abby, can you fucking say something?” you begin to feel angry. you still don’t even know why abby is upset, and she clearly doesn’t have any plan to tell you. “i don’t understand and it makes me feel bad when you’re upset and you know i care about you so can you please just-“

abby cuts you off, her voice barely audible. “i don’t fucking like it when other people flirt with you.”

“what?” you ask, wanting to make sure you heard her right.

“it’s stupid, i know, because we aren’t even a thing, i just…”

your gaze softens and you meet her eyes, urging her to continue.

“i want to be the only one who can do that,” she finally finishes.

you step forward, finding yourself only inches away from her body, your hand lightly hovering above hers. “you should’ve just said that,” you murmur, the corners of your mouth tilting upwards.

abby’s eyes focus down into yours, her big hand enveloping yours. “why’s that?”

your face is just centimeters from hers now. you can feel her breath on your neck and her fingers slowly tracing the skin on your palms.

your breath hitches as you begin to speak. “because i’d let you be the only one who can do that.”

before the sentence is even fully out of your mouth, abby’s lips meet yours, her hand wrapping around your waist as you deepen the kiss. “fuck,” she breathes heavily, pulling away. “i missed that.”

grinning, you tuck a strand of her dirty blonde hair behind her ear, kissing her nose gently. “you know i can be only yours if you want me to be.”

“i want that more than anything.”

another kiss; this one is somehow even more passionate as abby’s fiery hot lips slowly begin to make their way down your neck, kissing every inch of skin left uncovered by your dress.

a light moan escapes your lips as her hands reach your breasts and her mouth remains sucking on your skin.

“i fuck you better than anyone else, don’t i?” she asks.

it isn’t even a question. “of course,” you whisper breathily, desperately wanting to feel more of her touch. “please,” you beg.

“desperate already, huh?” abby teases, playing with the hem of your dress. “how bout we get this pretty little thing off of you.”

with your nod of consent, she lifts your dress up and over your head, tossing it quickly to the side as she marvels over your body. her hands quickly trail down your bare waist, each touch electrifying your skin. her mouth continues to leave kisses down your body, her fingers lightly hovering over your underwear.

“you want me to fuck you?” she asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

“y- yes please.”

“mmmm,” her hand glides over your inner thighs, her thumb pressing down gently over your clit. “how bad?”

her fingers begin to slide under your panties and you can feel her soft touch slowly stroking up and down your folds.

“s- so- s,” you can barely get the words out. you haven’t felt abby’s touch like this in weeks.

“use your words, baby,” abby brings her lips to yours, her fingers still teasing you.

“fuck,” you breathe into her mouth. “so bad.”

“good girl,” abby praises you, her lips still lingering over yours. “i’ll show you how i can fuck you better than anyone else at this party.” with that, her fingers slip inside of you, curling in and out while you tighten around her.

a whine escapes your lips, one which makes abby go even faster, her fingers pumping inside you.

“oh god,” you stagger against abby’s body, pressing all of your body weight onto her. with her help, you find yourself sitting on top of the counter, abby in front of you.

you moan again as abby circles around your clit with her thumb, which is soaking wet because of you. you grip her t-shirt tightly, pulling her closer to you while she continues to pleasure you.

“that feel good, baby?” she asks, her voice raspy.

“mhm,” is all you can get out.

“yeah, i bet. look how wet you are,” she says, putting so much pressure on your clit that you’re sure you’ll come any second now.

a louder moan from you is silenced by abby’s mouth against yours again. her forehead presses against yours, beads of sweat dripping from her skin onto you.

“keep going,” you breathe, knowing how close you are. abby generously decides to let you finish, not teasing you like she would most other nights. her fingers pulse harder and harder inside of you until you finally feel it, your back arching and your legs wrapping tightly around abby’s hips. you gasp for breath, hands clumsily trailing down the sides of abby’s shirt. abby slowly removes her fingers from inside of you, bringing a hand to your face to cup your cheek as she kisses you, this time much more gently.

your breathing slowly returns back to normal as abby holds you close to her, one hand stroking your hair gently. “how’d i do?” she grins.

“better than anyone else.”

abby grins, satisfied with your answer. “let’s go get a drink.”

[sweet-lover-girl]

Jealous Woman

Okay! So I wrote this for @glowstickfracture (hi honeybee!) I hope you like this, I’m sorry if it seems, rushed..or weird? I’m high, but I really wanted to write this for you. So I hope you like it!(I’m sorry, this isn’t long at all.. ><)

Warning(s): Spit kink(spit is mixed with blood), blood kink(brief though), possessive!Abby, jealous!Abby, Abby gets punched, but then the random guy gets his shit rocked by Abby, spit sharing(again it’s mixed with a little bit of blood), making out, I think that’s it?

———

Abigail Anderson was not a jealous woman, nope never…at least not until she met you. She was never jealous with Owen when other girls would flirt with him, she never got upset or mad, she would just shrug and go on about her day. But when you and her began dating she realized early on into the relationship that she was indeed a jealous woman. She always craved your attention, if you were focused on someone else or some task Abby would gently bump her shoulder into yours. If that didn’t get you to respond she would then huff loudly and look away, still trying to get your attention. Even if she had to put on a show to get it. If you still didn’t pay her any mind, Abby would then go and sit down somewhere and pout, waiting for you to come and find her yourself, moping, all alone. Of course once you come and find her she’s automatically okay!

But that still doesn’t excuse her behavior at the gym..(even if it was hot)

———

Abby let out another puff of air as she flexed her arm, curling the weight up making the muscle in her bicep bulged and flexed with the heavy strain. She looked out the corner of her eye and saw you were working out as well, your workout clothes were well fitting and squeezed all your curves just right. She couldn’t stop staring at you, you were just so fucking beautiful. You were this amazing person, this beautiful soul that walks the horrid world with a golden light shining down upon you. Abby felt blessed that you were even in her life let alone be all hers.

But then, Abby then saw something that made her blood boil, a man had walked up to you, disturbing your workout, talking your ear off. Abby slowly put down her weight when she saw you back up a little. She stood up but waited to see if the guy was gonna make a move on you. She knew you hated it when she started fights but fuck she can’t help it when it’s you she’s protecting.

She saw the guy take a step forward and that’s when she charged. Quickly running up to the guy and grabbing his wrist in a tight grasp, the man gasped and looked at Abby and quickly got mad. He took a swing at her and Abby suddenly tasted blood as her head jolted to the side, her jaw throbbing. The WLFs gym fall quiet as Abby looked up at the scared man realizing the error of his ways.

“My turn.” She whispered as she swing her fist, making contact with guys nose and a nasty crunching sound echoed the room making you cover your ears at the sound and tremble.

The guys head flew backwards and he landed on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ automatically knocked out from the hard punch to the face. Everyone just watched Abby huff and puff, afraid she was gonna blow on any of them if they moved. Which was your que to step in and drag her away before one of them do fuck up and make her even more angry. You quickly walk up to Abby and gently lay your hand on her shoulder, making Abby twist her head to the side to see who had the gall to touch her. But once she saw it was you she relaxed and grabbed you wrist tightly, dragging you out of the gym, you could hear the people who watched from the sidelines finally jump into action, two men grabbing the unconscious guy and carrying him to the infirmary. 

Abby was walking a few paces to fast for you to keep up, so you were jogging behind her. The tight grasp she had on your wrist began to hurt so you tug your wrist making Abby snap out of her thoughts and turn towards you. Her eyes were still raging.

Abby suddenly pushed you against the hallway wall and grabbed you by your cheeks, digging her fingertips into the hinges of your jaw to force your mouth open. She looks down at you from the length of her nose as she gathers spit in her mouth, puckering her lips Abbys spits into your open mouth. You could faintly taste sharp iron— her blood, from when she got punched. You let out a whimper as you squeeze your thighs together. Your hands shooting up to grab her wrist— trying to pull yourself away from her strong grasp - though you can’t lie to yourself, you found this incredibly hot. Abby stared down at you as she held your mouth open, her gaze flickering down to your open mouth, your twitching tongue glistening with her spit on it. Her blood.

Abby suddenly bent down and captured your lips in a hot, passionate kiss, your tongue twirling in a battle of dominance, you both sharing her blood and saliva, mixing yours with hers. She stood up pulling away from your lips and forced her fingertips into the hinges of your jaw once more, making you whimper as you stick out your tongue. Abby grins and gathers more blood-coated spit in her mouth and spat it into your mouth before leaning back down and making out with you again.

Abby finally pulls away once you begin to wiggle up against her, not knowing if she had the strength to keep kissing you without fucking you right after. Pulling away, you both were breathless. Your breast brushing up against each other’s, she gave you no space as she crowded you against the wall. Huffing as you both caught your breaths, Abby leaned her left arm against the wall and loomed over you. Leaning down, she got close next to your ear and whispered,”You’re mine, you got that baby?”

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Christmas | Jeremy Swayman

wc. 1.2k

Spending Christmas with Jeremy and your family

Your family always got together on Christmas. 

This year, it was at your parents house and your multiple aunts and uncles, your cousins, siblings, grandparents, second cousins, etc. would all be in attendance. Your family treated holidays as if they were a big family reunion and you loved it every single year. 

Your eyes flutter open and are met with the early Christmas morning sunlight streaming in through your bedroom window. You turn in Jeremy’s embrace, eyes falling over his soft features. His hair is tousled, sticking up in every direction, his lips resting in a soft smile, the quiet snores escaping through. You lift a hand up, running your thumb over the crest of his cheekbone and tracing the skin there. You watch as Jeremy’s eyes peak open and upon seeing you, his smile grows wider. 

“G’mornin,” he murmurs, his voice deeper due to not using it. 

“Morning bear,” you greet and he grins at the pet name. 

“What time is your family coming?” he asks, pulling you closer towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and then your lips. 

You roll over, grabbing your phone to see it’s almost 10 o’clock. You turn back and face Jeremy who has now pulled a lock of your hair into his fingers and is combing through it delicately. 

“Any minute,” you tell him and he smiles but you can tell there’s a hint of anxiety behind his expression. 

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him, reaching up to brush your fingers lightly over his chin, forcing him to look at you. 

“I know,” he says, moving to press a kiss to the center of your palm. 

“Ready?” 

You two lounge in bed for a bit longer until you start to hear a commotion downstairs and you can tell that your family members are starting to arrive. You both get out of bed, getting dressed in a comfy but cute style outfit. You’re in the middle of pinning up your hair when Jeremy strides into the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing his face into your neck. 

“You look beautiful sugar,” he whispers and his breath against your exposed neck causes a shiver to run down your spine. 

You place your hands on his, leaning back into his embrace and letting your eyes flutter shut. Jeremy presses a long kiss to your neck and begins to move his hands so they’re softly massaging your sides. 

“Keep doing that and we’ll never make it downstairs,” you warn, sleepiness threatening to take over you. 

“They’ll wait,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear and you grin, but ultimately move away from his touch. 

“Come on lover boy.” 

You lean on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips before walking out of the bathroom with Jeremy on your heels. 

The minute you begin to descend the steps, you hear your family members and smile at the rambunctious group crowding your family home. You can’t help the trot you sport heading downstairs excitement running through your veins as you get closer and closer to your cousins. 

“(y/n)!” your cousin Abby bounds towards you, tackling you in a tight hug and you reciprocate, screaming her name back out of habit. 

“You look so cute!” she gushes, pulling back to look at you and you turn in a circle to show off your Christmas outfit. 

“Abs, this is Jeremy,” you step back and take Jeremy’s hand, pulling him towards your best friend and family member. 

“Jeremy, the beautiful, wonderful, psychotic, Abigail,” you joke and Abby nudges your side. 

“Two out of the three of those things are true,” she grins and tugs Jeremy in for a hug before letting go. 

“Who else is here?” you ask when she steps back again. 

“Alex, Lindsay, Brad, Aaron, everyone,” she lists with a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Already?” 

“We’re waiting!!” your mom yells, finally catching onto the fact that you and Jeremy have made your way downstairs. 

You roll your eyes but smile as Abby grabs your hand and drags you into the living room. Jeremy follows nervously, wanting to stay back and prepare himself to meet your whole family but never given the chance as he’s thrown right into the whirlwind. 

Your Aunt is first to attack, rushing over from her seat to greet Jeremy and welcome him to the family. 

“I’m Aunt Judy but you can just call me Judy!!” she greets, pulling Jeremy into a hug and Jeremy casts you a surprised glance that makes you hide a giggle behind your hand. 

“Let me introduce you to everyone! You’re so handsome! (y/n) is so lucky my goodness,” your Aunt rambles as she starts to pull Jeremy around the room and you and Abby are a mess of laughter at the sight before you. 

“(y/n)!” your older brother Thomas calls and you turn and pull him in for a hug. 

“Where’s Ava?” you ask when you pull away and your brother rolls his eyes but smiles and points behind him. 

“Aunt (y/n)!” she screams in excitement.

You bend down as she bounds over to you and when she reaches you you pull her up into your arms and swing her around. 

“Ava baby!! I missed you!!” you squeal, pressing kisses all over her face making her giggle loudly. 

“Ava, do you want to meet someone special?” 

“Santa?” she asks and you throw your head back in laughter. 

“No baby Santa was already here,” you remind her and she pouts for a moment. “This is someone really special to Aunt (y/n).” 

“Who?” she shrieks, whipping around to look at everyone. 

You carry her over to where Jeremy is, standing near the Christmas tree and chatting with your dad. 

“Ava baby,” you say, taking Jeremy’s hand and calling his attention to your niece. 

“This is Uncle Jeremy, my boyfriend,” you explain and Ava grins, hiding her face into your neck for a moment while peeking over at Jeremy with curious eyes. 

“Aunt (y/n)?” Ava tries to whisper but fails. “He’s cute.” 

“He is, isn’t he?” you say, turning to Jeremy who’s face flushed red at all of the attention on him. 

You gesture for Jeremy to follow you, the two of you taking seats on one of the open couches and Ava snuggles up to you on your lap. 

“Uncle Jeremy? How old are you?” Ava asks, feeling bolder now that she’s close to you. 

“I’m 25,” he says, leaning in and smiling widely at the young girl. 

“What do you do for a living?” 

“I play hockey,” he tells her. 

Ava continues to ask Jeremy question after question and he answers them with ease. At some point, Ava has moved off of your lap and into Jeremy’s. He bounces her on his legs, answering questions and playing games, generally keeping the young child entertained. 

You watch the scene with huge heart eyes for your boyfriend. Ava was smitten the second she laid eyes on Jeremy and you can’t say you blame her. Jeremy was your whole world, you couldn’t help but imagine a future where this was your daughter instead, where you and Jeremy are married, where Christmas is hosted at your house instead. 

“You okay?” Jeremy asks, finally noticing your stare. 

“Just love you that’s all,” you murmur and Jeremy leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Love you more.” 

You spend the rest of your Christmas with your family, opening presents, watching movies, and enjoying your time with the people you love the most. 

[invaderzia1]

alternate universe swap, panic attack mentions

the night before Sebastian had got in a fight with the farmer, it was misplaced anger and emotions really. He knows the moment he raises his voice he’s in the wrong but he just can’t stop, not when they risk their life each day at the mines. Sebastian knows as good as anyone the danger of the mines, having lived next to them for most of his life. he has seen adventurers go in and be carried out on gurneys plenty of times. so he doesn’t understand why they continue to go down.

the fight is bad, really bad and he knows he’s the asshole, but the farmer doesn’t say anything and they just lock him out of the bedroom for the night, going to bed and leaving Sebastian to lay on the couch. it makes Sebastian wonder if he really deserves the farmer, who not once raised their voice at him, just let him yell and get his emotions out.

sebastian wakes up and expects to see the farm house, the one he fell asleep in, only to find Abigail. he wants to freak out, but slowly leaves bed and sees that he’s not at his house. he panics and tries to leave the house, barely noticing the photos of him and Abby hanging in the living room. no he just runs out into the middle of town, internally freaking out at the idea of ending up in Abby’s bed.

He rushes to the farm, trying to find his loving partner when he hears laughing and giggling, laughs he recognizes as the farmer and Sam??? No that can’t be right. as he makes it down the path to their farm, he sees Sam and the farmer on the porch, Sam holding them close as he presses kisses to their face. this can’t be right, this must be a nightmare.

he wants to throw up. wants to march up to the farm and make a scene about the farmer cheating on him, but he has a horrible gut feeling. looking down at his phone, he notices his background is a photo of him and …. Abby?? no it’s supposed to be farmer, why the fuck would it be Abby?

no its definitely a nightmare, his breathing picks up and he struggles to do any of them breathing techniques the farmer had taught him, the situation far to weird for them to even work.

his phone blows up with texts from Abby, calling him babe and asking why he ran out so fast. it’s all too much, he can’t fucking figure it out. so he rushes away from the farm to the only place he thinks he can go, back home to his mom. luckily she’s in the front yard carving some wood, he rushes up, looking like a hot mess still on his pajamas and still having a panic attack. Robin drops her gear and rushes to his side, asking if him and Abby are alright, which only further causes him to freak out. Robin rushes inside, saying she’ll call Abby over to help, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts as he struggles to breath. he quickly yells out no, which stops Robin in her tracks.

she rushes back to her son and thinks maybe they are fighting. so she helps Sebastian to his feet and helps him inside, to the dining room. she tries her best to calm him down, which helps to get him speaking, which is progress.

Sebastian must sound like a fool when he asks what happened to him and the farmer, which causes Robin to laugh, but immediately feel bad. She explains how he always rejected the farmer, so they started dating Sam. she adds a quick comment about how she thought him and the farmer would’ve made a cute couple, but that he was too nervous around them. she then explained how after the farmer and Sam got married, he accepted Abigail’s pestering for a date. Sebastian eyes widen in realization, almost having another panic attack at the revelation.

he ends up walking back to his “house”, Abby running up and hugging him when he returns. it doesn’t feel right, not like the farmer used to hug him. it’s like she’s not really in it, just going through the motions. it hurts, knowing he fumbled the farmer so hard in this timeline. He seeks privacy in his bedroom, opening his phones notes app and reading through his secret journals he’s kept, a habit he started in high school.

god his life seems depressing, he never dated the farmer, so they never pushed him to pursue a different job, so he stayed with his old coding job. it seems like he’s aware Abby isn’t happy in their relationship either, but she’s only staying for the stability it brings and just going through the motions of being an alright partner, as if he’s holding her back in life. and even now, his alternate timeline self is still in love with the farmer, hopelessly pining for them even after rejecting them.

he thinks maybe this is all his fault, maybe the universe is showing him what could have been. he pulls the covers up and hides in them, hoping that if he goes back to sleep, it’ll all be over like a bed dream.

When he wakes up, he finds himself back on the couch in the farm house, as if he had never left. immediately he rushes from the couch and to the bed room, knocking on the door to apologize to his loving partner.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I'm a horrible writer, and I'd had this idea stuck in my head for weeks. If you have time, I'd love to see it in your writing style. Only if you want to, though.

Javier and fem!reader are in an established relationship, and have been ever since they were teenagers. They joined the gang together after Javier was run out of Mexico, and he asked her to run away with him. Like the bonnie to his clyde. When the gang arrives in horseshoe overlook, the reader starts to feel sick. She'd become close friends with Abigail, so she discussed how she had been feeling (Ex: Sore breasts, nausea in the morning or with smells of certain things)

and above all, her period is late. About 2 months late. She thought it might have just been stress, but Abigail suggested that she might be pregnant. The reader waited a little while before telling Javier, because she was nervous, scared, and overall afraid of what he'd say. They both knew how dangerous the world was for people like them. When getting ready to lie down to bed one night, Javier can tell that there's something wrong, and he pulls her aside. As they walk around the outskirts of camp, she finally tells him what was bothering her.

Maybe he takes her into town to celebrate? and by celebrate, I mean they get a hotel room. wink wonk

Let’s Go To Bed

(Javier Escuella x Fem!Reader Smut)

Forgive me I’m a busy little guy

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, praise kink

An acidic stripe of vomit moved up your throat in a way that reminded you of mercury rising in a thermometer. You felt the familiar sensation of gagging tugging at the back of your throat as you began to overproduce saliva, your body's attempt at preparation for the bitter regurgitation of this morning's breakfast. You briefly managed to swallow it down with a silent burp before groaning and falling back to sit on your ass. 

“You look awful.” Abigail remarked, wrapping a shawl around your shivering shoulders. You could only nod in response, a line of saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as your head lolled to the side. 

“I feel awful.” You groaned, leaning into Abigail’s hold. She dug through her pockets, fishing out a bottle that she presumably got from the medicine wagon. She more or less bottle fed the tonic to you, holding it to your lips and tipping your head backwards. The taste alone made you nearly gag once more, and you let out a strained grunt when she pulled it away. She then handed a mug of coffee to you, hoping it would replace the flavor of the tonic. 

“Thank you so much Abigail… But I’m sorry I woke you up so early.” You apologized, holding the mug beneath your nose. The coffee seemed to be the only smell around camp that didn’t make your head spin in a vomit inducing nausea. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I couldn’t just ignore how sick you were. In fact, I’m surprised Javier didn’t wake up…” Abigail narrowed her eyes at him in a way that made you giggle. She had a point; your retching had been so loud and so close next to his body, you felt that even if you had spilled your guts all over him he still wouldn’t have woken up. He slept as though he had traveled on foot across the country and back.Though other members of camp had been awake at the time, they weren’t as well prepared to handle your sickness the same way Abigail was. 

“Yeah… I don’t know how he can sleep like he doesn't have a care in the world..” You sighed, envying your husband for not having to suffer the same way you did. 

“Well you should be his one care in the world!” She rebuked, rolling her eyes at his sleeping form. The two of you broke into silent laughter afterwards. Abigail looked back at you, a motherly concern in her eyes. 

“You’ve been real sick lately, (Name). I’m beginning to worry. It comes at random too.” She sat down next to you, studying your body. She held a maternal air around her, worrying over you the same way an experienced guardian would in consulting their child and giving them advice. 

“Girl talk, but have you and Javier been intimate lately?” Her question was straight to the point, blunt in a way that suggested she was looking to get to the bottom of this. You blushed and giggled nervously, looking back and forth between Javier and Abigail. Part of you felt that you’d be doing Javier a disservice by sharing details about your intimate life together with someone else, especially while his unconscious body bore witness. 

“Uhm, yeah. I suppose so…” You nodded slowly, unable to look her in the eyes. She raised her brows and nodded knowingly. 

“And what else have you been feeling?”

“Well, I’ve been tired and pretty out of breath, I thought I was just unfit or something?” It sounded as though you were trying to convince yourself of that more than you were Abigail. “And my breasts have been pretty sore, Javier did say they got bigger…” 

Abigail rolled her eyes at that last remark. “Of course that’s the first thing the man notices and not how sick you’ve been.”

As if you were catching onto what Abigail was getting at, you added “And I haven’t gotten my period in two months…”

Her eyes went wide as her jaw dropped, covering her mouth in disbelief. Your resting expression turned into one of squeezed panic, like a rabbit being held by its neck. A recollection of the events of the past few months came gushing back to you, and everything seemed to click into place like a gear shifting inside clockwork, finally striking on the answer. A shared sense of knowing settled between you two. 

“I thought I was just stressed?!” You seemed to bargain with the idea, attempting to grapple with any alternative explanation that wasn’t as severe as this. But Abigail pursed her lips and shook her head, confirming your fear. 

You supposed in all the years you and Javier had been together, this was something that was bound to happen. The topic of pregnancy and having children together wasn’t necessarily a topic that was out of the question, but it also wasn’t something you had anticipated happening to you so abruptly. Though it made sense, you could only have so much unprotected sex without conceiving a child; and you and Javier had done plenty of that. 

Another reason the idea never came fully into fruition during discussions was because you were both very well aware of the world around you. After having run away from Mexico, the two of you lived your lives constantly on the run. Coming into the country alone and not knowing the language, the two of you were all the other had. Living your life squalidly before finding some sense of stability within the Van Der Linde gang, but it had been years since then. You also knew raising a child in a gang environment wasn’t ideal, but Abigail had been doing it. Albeit with difficulty, but she had the entire gang there to support her. And you knew you’d have the same support system as well. 

Abigail remained by your side in hushed conversation, offering you any advice she had for your situation. She said you were fortunate to have a man who actually gave a damn about you, so you would definitely have his support there. But there was an underlying sense of apprehensiveness at what Javier’s response would be, one that neither of you wanted to acknowledge as to not entertain the possibility.

Abigail saw you off by allowing you to keep the shawl and tonic, wishing you the best of luck in telling Javier the news. She reminded you that regardless of his reaction, she’d have your back as well. You thanked her hurriedly, as Javier had begun to toss awake. You sat there by his side as he blinked sleep away, smiling at the fact that you were the first thing he saw when he awoke. 

“Buenos días, mi amor.” He croaked, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He slowly sat up from where he laid and rubbed his eyes. He gave you a second look, concern crossing his features and startling him awake. 

“You look so sick, are you okay?” He suddenly leaned forward, attempting to cradle you and check for anything that might indicate less than perfect conditions. His hand brushed your breast, making you audibly groan from pain. He reeled his hand back like a young child who just touched a stove, looking on in morbid confusion as if trying to figure out what exactly was the cause of your pain. 

“I’m just feeling a little nauseous this morning… and I’m a little sore too.” You tried to reassure him with a half hearted smile, contemplating when would be the right time to tell him. Not telling him simply wasn’t an option, after being together so long, it would be dishonest. Though when you told him one of your bodily symptoms was soreness, his mind seemed to go to the gutter as he slowly smirked. 

“Hm, guess I was a little too rough on you last night, no?” He laughed to himself as you groaned, pushing his face away to hide your blush. A reminder of what exactly got you into this situation.

The day was torturously slow. There seemed to be a constant veil over your consciousness that set you and reality five feet apart. Every action felt disconnected from your body, and it was only when you looked down at your belly, that you felt grounded once again. The idea of having a life growing inside you filled you with a fresh sense of panic, rattling through your rib cage and fully spreading through your shoulders in cold harshness. At times, you would think about your future excitedly, pondering all the different ways in which you and Javier would embrace parenthood. Though those thoughts would quickly become sour and twisted, a fork in the metaphorical line of thought forming as you fearfully included the possibility that Javier might react negatively. At some point you had even begun crying at the thought of your nearly decade long relationship ending, to which all of the camp girls and a few of the men would try to comfort you, asking over and over what was wrong. It was only until Javier came over to you that you blurted out the question “Do you still love me?!”

Of course, Javier was quick to comfort you, allowing you to blabber as many inconsequential questions as you wanted while he held you. And while he was definitely used to dealing with your emotional outbursts, he was a professional at it, he found their sudden consistency to be quite alarming. At some points he had begun questioning himself, whether he had done something wrong; to which you’d have to end up comforting him from. That or the two of you would confess your anxieties to each other tearfully while reassuring each other; it was rather theatrical.

As you changed into your nightdown that night, you stopped for a moment longer to look at the latent swell in your belly. You smiled widely and rubbed it, sighing contentedly before turning around to face Javier; your joy mixing unpleasantly with fear. Hurriedly, you changed (to which he insisted you stay undressed a little longer) before settling into your tent together. You were fidgety, unable to find a proper position to lay down comfortably. The hardness of your cot, something you had become used to, became ten times worse in your heightened state of awareness, the overstimulation turning you ill-tempered.

“Amor, what’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it as if it would get the answer out of you. As if a switch had been flipped in you, triggered by the very question, your eyes began to water and your bottom lip began to tremble. Javier looked on in horror, thinking back on every word he’s ever said to you, overthinking his tone and inflection, reflecting on the past few days; he tried to find anything in between that might have caused you to become so emotional. You let out a wail as you sunk into his arms, confusing him to no end. 

“What happened?! Are you okay? Please, just talk to me.” Javier’s voice quivered as he begged, completely at a loss as to how he could help you. People from camp had begun to sound their concern outside your tent, asking if the two of you needed help or to ask what was wrong. Fed up with the unwanted attention, he led you outside of camp away from everyone’s curious eyes, whispering comforting words to you as he led you into the woods. 

He took your shoulders and turned you to face him before cupping your cheeks to tip your face upwards. Your melancholic expression felt like barbed wires squeezing his heart, and he pulled you into his chest for a hug. He shushed you soothingly, rubbing comforting circles on your back. After a few more moments of silent crying, you cleared your throat and sniffed. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out, looking into his face to immediately catch any expression change. At first Javier’s eyes merely widened, his jaw opening in a way reminiscent of Abigail’s earlier. After a few seconds, he smiled widely, hugging you even tighter. The spreading anxiety within you diminished and was replaced by a flood of relief that made you feel ten times lighter. You wrapped your arms around him to return the hug. 

“Are you serious?! Amor, this is amazing I… I’m finally going to be a dad!” He exclaimed in a whisper. He looked like a kid who just received the best present on christmas morning, uncontrollably giddy from excitement. You smiled widely and wiped away your tears, nodding. 

“How long have you known?” 

“Well, I was speaking to Abigail about how I felt this morning and we deduced what was up with me and… I wanted to tell you soon because it was the right thing to do but I was also scared about how you’d react and I was just so nervous all day…” Your lip began to pout as more tears threatened to fall, but Javier wiped them away for you with his thumb. He leaned in to kiss you, your worries melting away like warm butter. Your body relaxed and released a tension you had not realized you had been holding onto. 

“We have to celebrate.” He suggested, smiling. 

“Right now?!” You giggled. 

“Yes absolutely, let me get my horse, we’ll go into town. I’ll treat you to something.” 

You had never felt happier as you watched Javier retrieve his horse, giggling when you watched him excitedly whisper into his horse’s ear about how he was going to be a father. Javier was the gentlest he had ever been as he helped you onto his horse, giving your knuckles a peck before getting on as well. You held onto his waist tightly as he spurred his horse into a gallop, and as you did, you felt his body tremble with excitement. You saw the low glow of Valentine as you approached the small town, the constant buzz of work having died down and turned in for the night. As people began winding down for the day, they ventured into bars or restaurants, buying the last of their errands at the general store, or resting up at the Saint’s Hotel. 

Javier had bought you a multitude of treats and food despite your insistence on him not spending money on you. He splurged a little extra on buying you the finest new clothes, cotton skirts and form fitting blouses (he claimed he wanted to be able to see your belly when it swelled better). He refused to drink that night, claiming he would join you in sober solidarity. For the last event of the night, Javier insisted he buy a room for the two of you to sleep in, saying he could not allow his dear pregnant wife to sleep on a hard cot. 

Though the two of you seemed to have other plans, because as soon as you entered the room, your hands were on each other. Your eager mouths united in a kiss that was far from sweet and gentle. Javier began pawing at your ass through your skirt as he sucked on your tongue and lips, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling. 

As he undressed you vigorously, it appeared to you that the only reason he bought you the new clothes was to tear them off you immediately after. He nearly tore your bloomers off of you, leaving you stark naked as you sat on the bed. You laughed at Javier’s impatience as he threw his own vest off, followed by his shirt and jeans. And before long, he joined you in bed naked as well. He laid next to you and wasted no time in spreading your legs open, resting one of your legs atop his thighs. He prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger before pushing them into your mouth, shuddering at the feeling of your wet appendage circling his digits. He left his fingers in there for far longer than necessary, indulging in the feeling alone before retracting his hand, which still clung to your lips through a string of saliva. 

He spread your folds open and gave your clit a quick flick, before sliding his fingers down past your vulva and to your entrance. He let out an involuntary moan at the feeling of your wet warmth as he dipped his fingers in, the both of you sighing in satisfaction when he slid in down to the knuckle. 

“Fuck, you’re so warm… Can’t wait to be inside that tight cunt.” He whispered in your ear, the combined sensation of him fingering you and whispering into your ear causing you to shudder and mewl lewdly. He reached his thumb back and began rubbing your throbbing clit, and at the same time, connected his lips to your nipple. He kept in mind the sore state your breasts were in as he cupped one of them, kneading gently so as to not bring you any pain. But the light sting of soreness brought you some sort of pleasure, and your entire body began to squirm as Javier nibbled lightly on your nipple. You reached down towards his aching cock, which was leaking pre cum on the sheets below you (you felt bad for whoever it was that would be cleaning the sheets after tonight). You began stroking his throbbing erection, smearing his tip with your thumb, though your strokes were inconsistent and stuttered as he began fingering you harder, a smattering of your wetness soaking the sheets beneath your ass. 

“It’s so cute how flustered I can get you with just my fingers, (Name)..” He hissed into your ears, kissing your lobe and tracing kisses down your neck. His cock was left forgotten on his lap as he fingered you to completion, cumming all over his fingers and hand. You let out a high pitched wail, rocking your hips against his fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

“That’s it… Just like that… Such a good girl.” He smiled against your pulse before pressing a kiss to it. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the corners of your vision spotted as you came back down from your climax. Your breath was stolen once again when Javier captured you in a kiss, far more tender but equally as passionate. He mounted your quivering body, holding your thighs open with one hand as he held your hand with the other. You moaned wantonly when he teased your clit and hole with his tip.

“Can’t wait to give our child a little brother or sister to play with one day… until then I’ll keep fucking you raw. We’re gonna have so many kids together…” He slid in as he finished talking, his voice turning into a whimper. Your wetness allowed for easy entry as he bottomed out. 

There was a consistent wet slapping as Javier began fucking into you, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His expression was completely debauched, seemingly more aroused by the idea of permeating your womb with his cum. He shuddered at the very thought of you being pregnant, and was filled with a sense of anticipatory wonder and excitement when pondering the thought of expanding your family together. 

“You look so good, can’t wait to see your belly swell…” Javier threw his head back and his eyes slid slowly closed, wetting his lips with his tongue as though his words left a decadent taste on his lips. His hips pistoned into you with determination, and within a few minutes he ended up cumming. Though you barely registered the fact he did, as he kept thrusting into you. You groaned at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you, only to be fucked back inside by him. He scooped up any that escaped, claiming that it all needed to be inside you. A white halo formed at his base, and his fascination with watching his cock disappear into you bordered on obsession.

“Take all my cum.” He breathed into your ear, his breath hitching as he came again. The two of you laid there together, dissolving into a chorus of breathlessness as you tried to recollect yourselves. You both became an amalgamation of combined limbs as you embraced each other, not minding the intense body heat the both of you emitted, even if it became unbearable. 

“I love you, Javier…” You sighed, burying your face in his neck. He smelled of sweat and faintly of scented shampoos and products. 

“I love you too, amor.” He kissed your forehead. He made it a point to shift his hips into a more comfortable position to remain inside you, harboring some sort of irrational fear that if he slid out, you might somehow wake up not pregnant. 

He held you tight as you fell asleep, and oh, how quickly you gave in to exhaustion. His chest swelled with pride and excitement, and every time he felt himself getting closer to sleep, the thought of soon being a father made him skittish and ripped sleep away from him. And at once, all the violence and pain that it took to get to this point made sense.

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Let's Go To Bed - The Cure

[birdiewriteslit]

wildest dreams au

luke hughes x abigail abernathy

masterlist

note: this took me a week bc i have to go to school sorry y’all

abyabynathy

tagged _quinnhughes, lhughes06, jackhughes

Liked by jackhughes and 1,896,245 others

abyabynathy the boys are back in town

View comments

_quinnhughes DAMN STRAIGHT🗣️🗣️

jackhughes @/_quinnhughes 🙄🙄

abyabynathy @/jackhughes looks like someone’s mad about the loss

jackhughes @/abyabynathy don’t accuse me

rudeth skipping the bruins game??

abyabynathy @/rudeth this is the only exception

user1 @/rudeth why is he commenting

user2 @/rudeth are yall back together or something

trevorzegras when will you come to my game

abyabynathy @/trevorzegras @/dixiedamelio come get your man

user3 @/abyabynathy HER WHAT.

ekat19 miss my girl

abyabynathy @/ekat19 shameless days>>

madelyncline LOVE YOU DEAREST

❤️ by author

jamie.drysdale collab when🤔

abyabynathy @/jamie.drysdale hmmm

user1 @/jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras well well well

January 6, 2024

—

messages 9:40 pm

jack: so what is going on with you and luke

jack: you guys were being weird earlier

abigail: jack we’re in the same room just talk to me

jack: luke’s in the other room i am being safe

abigail: whatever

jack: so why has he been ignoring you all night and why does quinn know and i don’t

abigail: how do you know that quinn knows🤨

jack: bc he told me not to ask

abigail: yet here we are

jack: i dont like the vibes i need to fix them this is weird

jack: you never fight

abigail: fine he’s mad bc i made peace with rudy and i was with him the other day

jack: is that it

jack: your breakup was toxic but if you’re good with him now idk why luke would be mad about it

—

Abigail bit her lip, glancing at Jack from across the couch. “There is something else,” she said quietly.

Jack looked up from his phone and set it down beside him. “What is it?”

“You can’t say anything to anyone because Luke and I haven’t talked about it yet.” Abigail scooted closer to Jack and held up her pinky.

Jack intertwined his pinky with hers and motioned with his other hand that his lips were zipped. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Okay,” Abigail said cautiously. “Luke and I kissed on New Year’s.”

Jack’s eyes blew wide. “What?” he practically shouted. Abigail slapped her hands over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up!” she reprimanded through gritted teeth.

Jack made wild gestures with his hands and pushed hers away from his face. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say. You can’t just do that!”

Abigail shrugged. “Well, sorry to be blunt but I’m not sure how else you wanted me to say it.”

“I cannot fucking believe this,” Jack whispered. Abigail felt obligated to say something, but Jack brought his finger up to shush her. “You told Quinn and not me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “No, idiot. He just knows Luke’s mad about Rudy. He doesn’t know about the kiss thing.”

Jack grinned. “So I’m special.”

“You are not special,” Abigail said, exasperated. “I just don’t know what to do about this. He hasn’t said anything about it.”

“Abby, he’s probably waiting for you to say something,” Jack rationalized. “You know how he is.”

“Maybe. Should I talk to him about it?” Abigail asked.

Jack looked hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Do you love him?”

Abigail’s eyes widened and she felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest. “Jack, what?”

“I’m serious, Abby,” he said, his face stern.

“Jesus, I don’t know. I don’t even know where to go from here,” she admitted, running a nervous hand through her hair.

“You better figure it out because this is a big thing and I don’t want either of you getting hurt,” he said seriously.

“I know.” Abigail nodded solemnly.

“Do you want to be with him or not?” Jack asked finally.

Abigail thought for a moment. She always stopped herself from thinking about Luke like this. It felt forbidden to want him the way that she knew she did.

That night, when they kissed, it felt like she was on fire. She had never felt like that with any of her exes, not even Rudy. She always felt different when she was around Luke. He wasn’t her brother like Jack and Quinn were. He never was, even when they were kids. She knew the answer to Jack’s first question.

“I do,” she confessed softly.

“Then you know what to.”

“Yeah.”

Jack stood from the couch. “Goodnight, Abby.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

[holyratrimony]

Summer Love at Bighorn Ranch

Pairing: John Marston x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his divorce from Abigail, John Marston is a mess. A series of rash decisions lead to John purchasing a rundown piece of land called Bighorn Ranch. As the ranch grows, so does the need for extra hands. When you show up, ready for your new job, John is immediately taken with you. When you get caught in a thunderstorm and show up on his doorstep, soaking wet, will he be able to keep his feelings to himself, or will he confess everything? 

Word count: 9.7k (how does this keep happening?)

Warnings: minors dni, 18+ only, I’ll kick you in the knees I s2g, do not read this,  dry humping, premature ejaculation, coming in pants, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, creampie, older man/younger woman

A/N: This takes place during the 90s, John’s in his forties, R is like mid-20s, Jack is like 10 in this, hedgehogs are not rodents but John doesn’t need to know that, also R wears John’s clothes at one point (as someone who's plus size I think John would own pretty baggy clothes), John is mega horny in this (in like a very pathetic way), how’d angst get in here? (it's just a lil bit), John thinks he is in charge but R has him wrapped around her finger, no physical descriptions of reader, no use of y/n, not beta read

To say John wasn’t doing well would be an understatement. After the divorce with Abigail, he’d hit a bit of a midlife crisis. The first step was moving out and subsequently crashing in Dutch and Hosea’s guest room. The two older men were patient with him, lending him some much-needed emotional support as he processed his feelings. After about a month, one drastic haircut, and a new earring, John finally was ready to move out to a place of his own.

He’d decided to return to his roots, taking out a rather large loan and purchasing a run-down ranch on a large piece of land in the middle of nowhere called Bighorn Ranch. The land was green and vast with a mix of plains and forests. It only took three days of him trying to lay the foundations for the house alone before giving in and calling Charles and Javier for help. The two men had come to his aid quickly, and with three hands they were able to get the ranch house built within just a few months. Then the barn, stables, and coup went up, followed by a half dozen small cabins about a mile from the main house. Both Javier and Charles opted to live in the cabins despite John’s protests, stating that they wanted to give him his space in the house. Ranching made sense to John. It was something he was good at. Whether it was keeping up with all the chores or breaking in the wild mare Charles found wandering the plains. As the ranch grew, so did the need for more hands. Javier had been tasked with taking the truck into the nearby towns, the closest being 30 minutes away, and hanging up help-wanted posters. The new ranchers would live on the property in the remaining cabins and would be responsible for a mix of construction, maintenance, and handling of the animals. Within a few weeks, four new hands had joined the ranch. The hands were set to arrive on a sunny spring afternoon. John was waiting on the porch with Charles and Javier, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. His hair was still growing back since the regrettable impulse cut, the ends reaching his ears. His beard was short, little more than stubble. The scars he’d gotten from a neighborhood dog when he was growing up cut through the dark hairs. He’d kept the small gold hoop in his ear despite the light teasing from Charles and Javier. The three men were discussing the horse show that was coming up next month when the sound of a car cut them off. The red and white Dodge Ram 2500 rumbled up the dirt drive, kicking up a small cloud behind it. The truck pulled up in front of the house, stopping next to John’s teal and silver Ford F-150. Three men in their twenties piled out of the truck, each sending a friendly smile and wave toward the older ranchers. John, Charles, and Javier made their way down the porch steps, John stubbing out his cigarette on the railing. The new hands introduced themselves, apparently all childhood friends which explained why they arrived together, shaking hands and giving names. After introductions, John showed the men around the main part of the ranch. Showing them the stables, the coup, and the different paddocks for the sheep, goats, and cows took up the better part of an hour. As they headed back towards the house John let them know that that was probably enough for right now. Once they were on the porch he explained the basic amenities in each cabin. They’d have electricity, a small kitchen, a bathroom, a bed, and a landline. John handed them each a slip of paper with the number for his line, letting them know that if they needed Charles or Javier they’d be living right next door. Charles offered to take the boys down to the cabins and Javier offered to join, citing that he needed to change out of his dusty work clothes. The boys hopped in their truck and followed after Javier and Charles, the cloud of dust slowly getting further and further away. John took a seat on one of the chairs on the porch, looking down over the property. There was still one new hand that was supposed to be arriving, likely within the next hour. John pulled another cigarette from his pocket, cupping his hand around his lighter as he flicked it, protecting the flame from the wind. Heady smoke filled his lungs as he leaned back. The three boys seemed nice. All were well-mannered and friendly. One of them, Riley, John thought his name was, said he’d worked at the MacFarlane’s ranch for a few years, dealing mainly with the horses. The other two mentioned they’d worked doing construction for the last few years. Apparently, they wanted more exciting work and while the MacFarlane’s didn’t have any more jobs available, they knew Bighorn was hiring and sent the boys in John’s direction. Javier had handled the applications, of which there were few. He was typically in charge of the business end of things despite the ranch belonging to John. Javier had a charm and refinement that was perfect for dealing with people and local businesses that John seemed to lack. John’s mind began to drift, as it often did when he was alone, to Abigail and Jack. He had Jack for a few days each month. The last time Jack came to visit, John had shown him how to ride. The two of them didn’t talk a whole lot but the time they spent together always felt special. Jack had a room in the ranch house, filled with his medieval fantasy books, a couple of his toys, and a small gaming setup with a sega genesis and little box tv. Jack had tried to teach John how to play Sonic but John was hopeless. His fingers were too big for the little buttons and he just couldn’t get the hang of moving that damn rodent around. He missed Jack, every damn day. Abigail too, but that was getting easier. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of tires on the dirt road. A grey and blue Chevy Silverado pulled up the drive. John stood up, a slight groan leaving his lips. He was only in his forties but his years of hard living seemed to be catching up to him. He moved down the steps, his eyes trained on his boots until the sound of a car door slamming shut had him looking up. John’s heart stopped. Or he couldn’t breathe. Or he died. He wasn’t sure. All he could tell was that the woman in front of him was like a dream. The late afternoon sun shone on your form, bathing you in a golden glow. Your eyes were covered by sunglasses, a black shirt adored your torso while your legs were covered by a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of brown work boots on your feet. Your smile was easygoing as you raised a hand in greeting. Your voice was kind and warm as you greeted him. “Hi! I’m one of the new ranch hands. Are you Javier?” John let out a laugh at that, trying to compose himself.   “No, no, I’m John. John Marston. I uhh… I own Bighorn.” He was trying not to let his eyes drag over your body but he couldn’t help himself. “Jav-Javier’s in charge of the business side of things, you’ll meet him later.” “Nice to meet you, Sir,” A spike of heat seemed to pierce through John at the title. The smile etched on your face was radiant as you gave him your name. God, you were pretty. John cleared his throat as he attempted to avoid looking directly at you. “The other hands got here bout an hour ago. They’re down at the cabins right now. Ya wanna join them or do ya wanna tour of the ranch?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly. He couldn’t help but wishing you’d take the tour. Selfishly hoping to get some one on one time with you before introducing you to the other men. He finally mustered the courage to look up at your face. Your smile seemed almost shy as you replied, stepping towards him slightly, “I think I’d like to see the ranch, Sir.” He was fucked. ~~~~~~ Having extra hands on the farm proved to be endlessly helpful as spring turned to summer. The animals that had been born only a few weeks after you and the boys arrived were growing bigger and bigger. The four of you also helped John and Charles bring some of the horses to a show in one of the neighboring towns, bringing in a pretty sum of cash. John was beginning to feel a little more at peace. The loans for the ranch were beginning to get smaller and smaller as he paid them off. The stress on his shoulders seemed to be lessening as the weeks went by. His self-deprecating thoughts being replaced with thoughts of you. To say John was enamored would be putting it lightly. To start with you were a good worker. Often working longer hours than necessary, going until you felt the job was complete. At the end of the day, you’d slump onto the steps of the porch, your shirt sticking to your chest, your skin glowing, a blissed-out smile on your face. John would come out and offer you a beer. There would normally be only five minutes where you were alone before the rest of the men joined the two of you. John tried not to resent it, knowing he had no claim over you, but god he wished he did. John found himself staring at you as you moved around the ranch. Whether you were carrying bales of hay to the stables, pounding in nails on the fence you were fixing, or helping break one of the new horses. John would let his gaze drag up and down your body before catching himself. He would reprimand himself. Reminding himself that you were a. Almost twenty years his junior, b. Likey dating one of the younger hands (a thought that had made him prone to snapping at the young men without much prompting), and c. wouldn’t want a broken man like him. He’d scold himself, telling himself he was a pervert for looking at you like that, for wanting to take you, claim you. But he couldn’t seem to stop the thoughts from creeping in late at night. When his rough hands fisted his cock and he’d think about you on your knees for him, your lips and tongue running up and down his length as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes. Or how you’d feel wrapped around him. What you’d sound like as he took you from every position imaginable. How you’d react if he pinched your nipples, if he spanked you. Despite being alone in that big house he’d bite his fist as he came, moaning out your name as the drag of his hand became too much. When the lust had passed and his cock softened, cum drying on his stomach, and reality set in, he’d mutter to himself, “You’re a fool, Marston.” The sentiment never seemed to stick because he’d see you bend over in that pair of jeans the next morning and would be stuck fighting the arousal that seemed to surge through him for the rest of the day. He was jacking off like a teenager, seemingly unable to control himself. When he spoke to you he’d stumble over his words, never being able to fully articulate his thoughts before getting lost in your eyes or your smile. Charles and Javier had picked up on his infatuation. Relentlessly teasing him when it was just the three of them. There was one day you were going to run errands in town. You’d stopped by the house to ask if the men needed anything else picked up while you were there. The day was already blazing hot despite it only being midmorning and you’d opted for a sundress. The fabric was light and airy around your thighs, the neckline cutting down to show more of your chest than was strictly necessary. John, Charles, and Javier had been in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to brew, when you knocked, letting yourself in through the front door. “Hello?” Your sweet voice echoed through the house. “In the kitchen,” Charles called back. When you entered the kitchen it took everything in John not to drop the mug he’d just grabbed from the cabinet. The flush on his cheeks was immediate. He could feel his jeans getting tighter as he took in your form. He could feel his mouth hanging open slightly. He was only drawn out of his trance by Charles’ gentle elbow in his side. Luckily it seemed like you missed the small interaction. “Mornin’ y’all.” you nodded to Charles and Javier before turning to John. “I’m heading into town and was wondering if there’s anything you need me to pick up, Sir.” John could barely manage to shake his head. “T-that’s very nice of you but I think we’re all set sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. You nodded as you slipped your sunglasses onto your face. “Alright, I’ll see y’all, later.” You shot a dazzling smile towards the men as you turned, exiting the kitchen. John was able to stew in his slight mortification until the sound of the front door shutting echoed through the house. As the latch clicked John felt his friend's knowing gazes on him. Charles was the first to speak. “I’m not gonna lie to you, that was hard to watch. ‘Sweetheart’? Really?” The teasing lilt to his voice almost had John hiding his face in embarrassment. Javier clasped a hand on John’s shoulder, giving him what could only be described as a shit-eating grin. “Oh, you’ve got it bad, brother.” John let out a long groan, debating adding a bit of whiskey to his morning coffee. He was gonna need it if he had to put up with these two for the rest of the day. That night he came in the shower, fantasizing about fucking you dumb as you bent over in that pretty little dress for him. Then again later in his bed at the idea of your legs wrapped around his head, calling him sir as he ate you out until you cried. ~~~~~~ The storm that overtook the skies a few weeks later came out of nowhere. The dark and heavy purple clouds seemingly materialized out of the clear blue sky. Lightning and thunder breaking up the peaceful feeling of the ranch. John was in the house when the rain began to fall. The drops pounding against the roof creating an unrelenting din. He walked away from the window he was looking out to the phone in the hallway. He should probably call Charles and Javier. They’d taken the truck into town and were probably still at the mechanic seeing as the owner was an old friend. He dialed the number for the garage but was only met with static. One of the phone lines must have been knocked down in the storm. He’d have to check around the property whenever Charles and Javier returned with the truck, likely tomorrow at the earliest. John’s mind flashed to you, as it often did. He hoped you were back at your cabin, safe from the torrential rains. You’d been up at the ranch this morning but probably headed back with the boys earlier in the afternoon. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a frantic pounding, different from that of the raindrops. Someone was knocking on the door. He crossed the room, hand twisting the door open to reveal your drenched form. You were dripping wet. Your jeans were several shades darker than they had been earlier, your white t-shirt was essentially translucent. John tried to not stare at the black outline of your bra showing through the shirt or at the way the fabric clung to your skin, showing off your form perfectly. His gaze was brought back to your lips as you spoke. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, Sir. I-I was with the horses when the storm started and the thunder spooked some of them. I had to round them up.” He shook his head at your words. “Come on inside darlin’, you must be freezing.” You nodded, stepping in off the porch and onto the mat inside the doorway as he stepped back, making room for you, letting the door shut behind you. “Let me go grab you a towel.” He grabbed his favorite towel from the bathroom, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that was unhelpfully pointing out that the soft fabric would soon be running over your body. As John came back out into the hallway he took in your form once again. You looked miserable and cold, trembling slightly. He handed you the towel, ignoring the spike of heat he felt as your hands brushed his. “Do you have your truck?” His raspy voice was gentler than usual. You shook your head. “Wanted to enjoy the walk this morning,” you chuckled slightly. “Well, I think that means you’re gonna be stuck here for a bit. The phones are down, the boys are at the cabins, and Charles and Javier are in town with the truck. ‘N I’m not risking you walkin’ back in this weather.” You nodded again, a small smile gracing your features at his concern. John was still trying his best not to stare at your chest, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hide the growing outline of his cock for much longer. “You’re welcome to the shower if ya’d like. And I’ll bring you a change of clothes too.” As you toed off your boots you let out a sweet “thank you”. John showed you to the bathroom, before running to his room to grab a shirt and sweatpants. He placed them on the shelf in the bathroom before turning back to you. “The extra room is yours for tonight. If you need anythin’ just holler.” Your voice stopped him on the way out of the room. “Thank you, Sir. You’re very kind.” He chuckled lightly, “I’m just tryna help. ‘N you can jus call me John, sweetheart.” Your smile broadened a bit, “Well, thank you, John.” He nodded, barely finding the strength to close the door behind him. God, that was worse. His name falling from your lush lips. His mind grabbed onto the sound, playing with it, twisting it until he was imagining you calling it out from underneath him. As the latch clicked shut he leaned back onto the hallway walls, pressing the heel of his palm into his growing erection. “Get it together, Marston,” he muttered. He moved to the kitchen, trying to forget the shape of your body, the way the tops of your tits were visible through the wet fabric. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the cupboards, pouring himself a generous amount. He quickly drank the amber liquid, hardly registering the burn in the back of his throat. He poured another glass, just taking a sip from it this time. He could hear the water from the showerhead, even in the kitchen, and was trying to not get distracted by the thought of your body in the shower. He wished he could walk in there, wrapping his arms around you as you rinsed the day off. He’d trail soft kisses over your neck as he lathered soap over your form. He could imagine the noises you’d make as he kneaded your shoulders, the little groans that would leave your perfect lips. He shook his head, he needed to distract himself. His eyes caught on the clock across the room, it was getting late, and the both of you would probably be hungry soon. He opened the fridge and glanced over the contents. The mostly empty shelves seemed to glare back at him. He dropped his head into his hands, frustrated at himself. You were in his home and he couldn’t even make you a proper meal. He was so distracted by his perceived downfall that he didn’t hear the shower turning off, nor the click of the bathroom door and the footsteps that followed. “Sir?” Your gentle voice pulled his eyes up. You were standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his shirt hanging off your shoulders, his sweatpants hugging your hips. His gaze dragged up and down your body. You weren’t wearing a bra. Your nipples were hardened from the cold, the outline of them visible through the worn material. His voice was gruffer than usual as he forced it out around the lump in his throat, making his eyes meet yours. “I thought I told you to call me John, darlin’.” You nodded sweetly. “Alright, John.” His name sounded so sweet on your lips. He needed some sort of distraction. He grabbed the whiskey bottle from the counter, raising it for you to look at. “D’ya want a glass?” “I’d very much like that, thank you.” “How was your shower,” His full focus was on pouring a glass for you and topping off his own. Looking at you was almost too much. “It was really nice. Your water pressure is amazing!” your exclamation had John stiffening in his jeans once again. The idea of you in the shower, groaning as the water hit your shoulders, running in rivulets down your chest. He put the bottle back on the counter a little harder than he meant to, turning around to hand you your glass. The amber liquid on his tongue was a necessity for this situation. “I’d uh, I’d offer ya dinner but ‘m not much of a cook.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck at the admission, his cheeks tinted red. He was a grown man and the majority of his meals came frozen or from a can. “I could make something for us,” your voice was kind, soothing almost. John shook his head almost immediately. “I’m not gonna make you do that darlin’. Don’t want you to have to take care of my ass.” “I really don’t mind it, John. Plus I’d like to eat at some point.” Your tone was lighthearted as you grinned at him. After a little more back and forth he conceded, allowing you to take over the kitchen. You shooed him out of the room, telling him it’d be ready soon. John settled in the living room, flipping on the tv to try and drown out the thoughts of you. He couldn’t seem to stop. The whiskey wasn’t doing much to help. He’d occasionally flip between channels, but nothing was quite able to grab his attention. The idea of you in his house, in his kitchen, in his clothes was so domestic. The idea of walking up behind you while you cooked, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your neck, it was intoxicating to him. But he couldn’t lie and say his thoughts were completely innocent. Images of you in various compromising positions kept flashing through his mind, now accompanied by the sound of you whining his name. About half an hour later you emerged from the kitchen with two steaming plates of spaghetti, setting them down on the dining room table. When John walked over to join you the smell hit him. It was heavenly. How you’d pulled together something like this out of the pathetic ingredients he had available was incredible. As the two of you ate dinner you made idle conversation. John had talked to you a few times since you came to the ranch but he could never seem to hold a conversation. Too overwhelmed by your presence when you were close to him. Now he didn’t have much of a choice. He learned a little bit more about your life before you came to work at Bighorn. When you’d both finished eating, John offered to clean the dishes. You didn’t argue, letting him gather the dirty plates. “It's still pretty early so if you want to put on a movie while I clean up, you're more than welcome to.” You agreed and he told you where to find the tape collection. As he washed the plates in the kitchen he scolded himself. You’re too old for her, Marston. Pretty young things like her aren't interested in broken men. You’re an old fool. Once the dishes were cleaned he took a moment to lean against the counter, holding his head in his hands. He had to get it together. As far as he should be concerned you're just his employee and he should treat you as such. Seeing as he’d finished his whiskey before you had brought out dinner, he grabbed a cold beer from the fridge. He called your name towards the living room, asking if you wanted one too. You shouted back a yes. He uncapped the two beers and walked back to the living room. You were curled up on the right side of the couch, your legs tucked up off the floor, a blanket from the chest near the window wrapped around you. You looked warm and comfortable. John pointedly ignored the pang of affection that shot through his chest as he handed you your beer. The couch was small but he still tried to give you space. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But even with his hip pressed against the arm of the couch, your legs still brushed against his thigh. He had to keep his breath steady as he could feel the warmth from your body. He recognized the movie you picked as Jurassic Park, one of Jack’s favorites. You were only at the part where the scientists were on their way to the island. “‘S a good choice,” he gestured at the tv. “The movie I mean.” “It’s one of my favorites!” God your smile was cute. He wanted to make you smile all the time. As the movie continued, the two of you sat in comfortable silence. However, John was very aware of your presence next to him. Of the press of your legs against his. In trying to ignore the heat in his stomach and the feeling of you right next to him, he was staring very hard at the tv. When Ellie jumped off the ride to go look at the stegosaurus, you shifted towards him, moving your legs to the other side of you, your torso almost pressing into his side. “I still can’t believe how real it looks! It's crazy!” The excitement in your voice made a smile form on John’s face. Subconsciously, he moved his arm to the back of the couch, giving you room to move in, to lean against him if you so desired. He didn’t even register he had done it until he felt your body press against his, tucking yourself under his arm. He couldn’t stop the small hitch in his breath at the realization that you were willingly cuddling up to him. He was sure you could probably hear his heartbeat from your new position. He tried to keep his eyes on the movie but it was hopeless, his gaze focused intently on you. When you raised your head to look at him he wasn’t quick enough. You’d caught him. He was caught off guard by your hand pressing into his chest as you pushed yourself up. You were still close to him, but you were now upright, your chest turned towards him. Your gaze was calculating as your tongue traced along your bottom lip. He couldn’t help but stare at the movement. The indecision seemed to leave your eyes as you noticed what he was staring at. You leaned towards him slightly. “John,” your voice was soft as he finally was able to drag his gaze to meet yours. Your eyes were dark, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “Kiss me.” His brain stopped. Or his heart stopped. He wasn’t sure. Maybe both. All he could manage was a small nod. His hand moved to grasp the nape of your neck, bringing your lips to his. The kiss was passionate, a mess of tongues and lips, of gasping breaths. John ignored every part of his brain that was telling him to stop. That you were too young for him, that you were his employee, all of the reasons that he shouldn’t let this happen. The feeling of you drowned out everything else. When he nibbled on your bottom lip, you let out a small moan. The sound sent blood rushing to his cock. All he wanted to do was draw those noises out of you. To hear every little sound you’d make in the throes of pleasure. Your kisses were as greedy as his, seemingly trying to savor every second of your embrace. He was able to pull himself away for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours as his hands came to cradle your head in his large hands. “Darlin’,” his voice was rougher than usual. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want an ol’ man like me?” The glare you gave him was more chiding than actually frustrated. “First of all, you're not old. Second, I’ve wanted this since I started working here. Wanted you since that first day.” Your confession sent a shiver through John. “Really,” he couldn’t stop the slightly desperate tone that laced his voice. You nodded, smiling at him. “How could I not?” Your answer was simple but it sent a swirl of affection and mild pride through him. He moved a hand to your waist, you seemed to take it as an invitation to move onto his lap. Swinging your body so your legs rested on either side of his thighs. In this position, John allowed his hands to roam over your body. Tracing up your back, trailing down your sides, he let them come to rest on your ass, grabbing the flesh and pulling you against him slightly. The movement caused your hips to press against his hardness. You gasped loudly. His first reaction was worry that he’d done something wrong, but that thought left his mind when you rolled your hips against his again. He was painfully hard, his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He could feel the small wet spot forming in his underwear, his tip leaking precum. Each move of your hips felt like heaven. The feeling of you, in his lap, wearing his clothes, making those desperate little sounds as you ground yourself against him, was better than any of the fantasies he’d had. He was meeting your movements, thrusting up. The feeling was overwhelming, and when you attached your lips to his neck he keened. He let his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, just trailing them along the soft skin of your hips at first. When you didn’t make any move to stop him, he began to trace higher and higher. Fingertips brushing over your sides, your ribs, and then your tits. God, they were so soft. He let his hands pinch your nipples experimentally. You had to move your mouth from his neck when you let out a high-pitched moan. “Do that again,” your voice was tantalizingly desperate. “Please, John.” He complied, unable to deny you anything you asked for. His fingers twisted and pulled at your sensitive buds, rewarding him with your gasps and breathy moans. He pushed you back slightly in his lap, moving you so you were sat upright. He looked up at you as he brought his face to your chest, wrapping his lips around one nipple while continuing his ministrations on the other. The look on your face was the prettiest thing John had ever seen. Your lips were parted, your eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you held on. You’d paused your hips when he moved you, allowing his pleasure to subside. When your eyes opened, your pupils were blown wide and lust practically dripping from your gaze, he couldn’t help himself from thrusting his hips to yours. His hands moved back to your waist, his eyes never leaving yours as he rolled his hips again, the pressure from your body providing him the slightest bit of relief. He’d been able to calm himself for a little bit, but with his hips humping against you and the look in your eyes, he was driving himself toward the edge again. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about the needy moans leaving his mouth. It was almost without warning that he felt the pleasure in him swell as his balls drew up. The stimulation of your warm body rubbing against him sending him over the edge. His cock pulsed in his jeans, releasing spurt after spurt of hot cum. He came with a harsh gasp followed by an embarrassing whine of your name, his hands clutching you tightly as he kept humping you, drawing out the sensations. When his high began to subside he was overtaken with embarrassment. He’d finally gotten a chance with you and he’d cum in his pants like a goddamn teenager.   Your voice was small. “Um…John. Did you…did you just cum.” All he could do was nod as he buried his head in your shoulder, unable to fully look at you. Your hands buried into his hair, holding him sweetly. “It’s okay, John. It happens.” He couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye. He’d ruined his chance. “I-I’m so sorry.” he managed to get out. You let out a soft coo as your hands moved to cradle his face. “You’ve got nothing’ to be sorry for. I promise.” He tilted his head up, his gaze meeting yours. There was nothing in your eyes to indicate disgust or displeasure, just kindness. He nodded dumbly as he took you in. “Wanted this to be good for you, sweetheart. Been thinking of this for ages and I fucked it up.” You shook your head. “What makes you think you won’t be able to make it up to me?” your smile was teasing as you tilted his chin upwards. Hope sparked in his chest at your words. “Like right now?” desperation leaked into his voice. You nodded sweetly. “If that’s okay with you.” John couldn’t stop his overenthusiastic nod. “Well in that case I think I owe you somethin’” He shifted you off his lap, allowing you to stand. “My bedrooms, the door on your right, down that hallway there. I'll be there in just a moment.” As he stood you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing your lips to his once again. You then leaned in, allowing your lips to brush the shell of his ear. “You better, or I’ll be left with no choice but to take care of myself,” you pushed away from him, a sly grin on your face as you shot him a wink and started in the direction of his room. John watched you leave, letting his eyes drag over your form, his thoughts notably absent of the guilt that would plague him whenever he’d looked at you before. When you were out of sight, he went into the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up. As he walked towards his room he felt what could only be described as butterflies in his stomach. You were far too good for him, in every single way, but you were here, you wanted to be with him, to have him touch you. He couldn’t help the dopey smile that broke out across his face. He pushed open the bedroom door to find you standing in the middle of the room, seemingly taking in your surroundings. At the sound of his footsteps, you turned to face him. “You ready to make it up to me, Mr. Marston?” Your teasing voice was cut off as he closed the space between the two of you and pulled your body into his. His lips crashed into yours, his hand coming to rest on your jaw. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, almost asking permission, which you granted. You tasted like the whiskey from earlier. He began to walk you backward, your steps hesitant until the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed and you fell onto your back. You looked so beautiful below him. You scooted yourself toward the headboard as he dropped his knees onto the mattress. He moved up until he was settled between your legs, his body pressed to the bed as his hands came to rest on your thighs. “I wanna taste you darlin’,” his fingers brushed against the exposed bit of skin that was visible between your shirt and the band of your sweatpants. “Would that be alright with you?” When he lifted his eyes to meet yours, your pupils had swallowed your irises. Your gaze was heavy with lust, your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you nodded. “Please, John. Need you.” His hands hooked over the band of your sweatpants, pulling them down over the tops of your thighs. He couldn’t look away as more and more of you was revealed. As soon as the sweatpants had slipped off your feet, his mouth met your inner thigh. His hands moved to the insides of your knees, gently pushing you apart for him. He traded between kisses and gentle nips as his mouth trailed over the sensitive skin. “Take off your shirt for me sweetheart.” his voice was low, filled with desire. You quickly obeyed, tossing the fabric to the floor and settling back against the bed. John couldn’t believe that he was here, between your thighs. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d thought about this, in this same bed as he fucked his hand. And now it was happening, it was real. He felt his cock jump slightly, blood beginning to return to it. You were whimpering under him, clearly frustrated at the lack of attention being paid to your dripping cunt. He could see the small wet patch forming on the cotton that covered you and his mouth watered. He couldn’t resist dragging a finger over your clothed slit as his mouth continued along your thigh. You let out a high-pitched moan when his finger ghosted over your clit. God, he wanted to draw more of those noises from your sweet lips. “Don’t be impatient now, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.” His voice was even raspier than usual, dripping with lust. You thrust your hips slightly at his words, trying to get more from him. He pressed your hips back to the bed with one hand, holding you still, tutting his tongue at you. He dragged his mouth higher, his lips pressing against the cotton of your panties. He smirked slightly before grabbing the hem of them between his teeth and dragging them down your hips. When you were rid of them, he couldn’t help but take you in. “John,” your voice was sweet with want. With need. His hands moved back to your inner knees, pushing your legs apart for him. Your cunt glistened with slick, the insides of your thighs shining with it as well. He couldn’t wait to taste you. He was laying between your legs again, his face only inches from your heat. This was better than anything he’d imagined. You were a dream and he wanted to show you how much he wanted this, wanted you. You let out the most intoxicating noise when he licked a broad stripe over your entrance, his nose bumping your clit. Your hands, which had been gripping the sheets at your sides, moved to his hair, tangling your fingers in the dark locks. You were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He wanted to drink you in, the taste of you like heaven on his tongue. He wanted to drag it out. To tease you with soft licks, turn you into a begging mess. But that would take patience and John Marston was not a patient man. He buried his face in your pussy. His tongue laving over you as his nose rubbed against your clit. If he were to die right now, he’d die a happy man. His hands dug into your hips as he dragged you closer to his mouth. He was trying to memorize everything that made you moan, made you tug on his hair, or try to grind your hips against his mouth. The moan you let out when he wrapped his lips around your clit was absolutely sinful. “Johnnn,” your breath was labored, making it hard to form full sentences. “P-please,” you begged. “Please what, darlin’? What d’ya need?” His voice was teasing as his gaze met your lust-darkened eyes. “Please finger me, please. I need it, please, please, John.” He would’ve liked to tease you more but he was quickly realizing that he couldn’t resist doing anything you asked of him. “How could I say no when you sound so sweet beggin’ for me.” He brought his mouth back to your clit as one of his fingers traced lightly over your slit. You were so goddamn wet, the mix of your slick and his spit shining in the low light of the room. You shivered when he pushed a finger in, just to the first knuckle. He felt you clench at the invasion, making him let out a soft groan. He pushed his finger fully inside you, crooking it up to press against your walls. You let out a loud whiny moan at the sensation. He continued slowly dragging his digit in and out, brushing against your g-spot each time. He wanted to draw this out, show you how good he could make you feel. His mouth continued the assault on your clit, as he finally gave in and added another finger, much to your delight. Your hips rocked against his hand with each thrust, your back arching when he would slowly brush over that sensitive spot. He could feel you getting wetter, your breaths becoming shorter, the words leaving your lips barely discernible. “J-John, I-I’m gonna cum,” he could barely hear you as you wrapped your thighs around his head, your hand yanking on his hair, pulling him closer to you, trying to reach your peak. He sped up slightly, not enough to disrupt your pleasure, but just enough to have you gasping loudly. John felt you clench around his fingers, once, twice, and then you came. Looking back on it, he wished he could’ve seen your face, but he was so lost in lapping up the rush of slick from you. He could do this for hours, knelt between your legs, eating you out until you were exhausted or until he had his fill, whichever came first. He only pulled off of you when you tugged his hair trying to push him off as your thighs fell back to the mattress. He looked up at you, taking in your disheveled face. Your lips were slightly swollen from your teeth biting into them, your eyes were dark, your chest rising and falling rapidly with your breath. “Sorry darlin’, ya just taste so good. Couldn’t help myself.” He was grinning like an idiot. You returned his smile as you muttered, “you’re damn good at that.” “That mean I make it up to ya?” You nodded, “Doesn’t mean we’re done here though.” John’s cock jumped at that. Eating you out had turned him on more than he’d care to admit, his cock had become hard and heavy, pressed against the mattress. “Thank god for that,” his raspy voice was only slightly teasing. A small smile broke out across your face as you shook your head at him, your hands pulling him up to you. He knew you could taste yourself on his tongue, the thought driving him slightly crazy. He’d propped himself up, his arms on either side of you, keeping mind to not let his whole weight rest on you. You pulled back, the look in your eye intrigued him. You looked like you had a plan. Before he could register what was happening, you’d flipped him over, sitting on top of him, your body on display. You leaned forward slightly, your finger trailing along the buttons of his shirt. “I think you’re wearing far too much clothing.” John could only bring himself to nod, as he took in your form. He was in awe. Your fingers began to work on his buttons, undoing them one by one. As more of his chest was revealed you brought your mouth to gently kiss across his skin. He could feel his mouth hanging open slightly, his heart pounding as you showed him a gentleness he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Your touches were light and adoring. As more of him was revealed to you, compliments and sweet words spilled from your lips. Your lips trailed across the scars that littered his chest, murmuring, “you’re so beautiful, John.” He felt like he was being worshiped. Like you were treating him like something to be treasured. When your fingers undid the last button of his shirt, you helped him slip it off of his shoulders, tossing the fabric to the floor to join the other discarded garments. Your hands traced along his chest, running through the smattering of hair across his pecs. Your hands drifted down further, your fingers dragging lightly through the dark hair of his happy trail. They came to rest on the waistband of his jeans, tucking underneath the fabric slightly, your nails teasing the sensitive skin. Your eyes were dark as you looked up at him, asking for permission. He nodded, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. You made quick work of the button and zipper, your fingers once again hooking over the sides as you pulled his jeans and boxers down in one go. His cock sprang up from the fabric, leaking and red, the head practically dripping precum. John knew his dick wasn’t something to scoff at but he still felt self-conscious. That was until he raised his eyes to your face. “Oh, John,” your words were soft, you seemed transfixed, your hand coming up to wrap around him, your fingers only barely able to touch around his girth. He couldn’t help the hiss that escaped him at the pressure. Your hands were light, tracing along the vein that ran up his length, ghosting over the head, your thumb swept at the slit, catching a drop of precum. He was captivated as you brought your thumb to your lips, your tongue darting out to taste it. He couldn’t take this slow teasing, he couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to be inside of you. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you before flipping the two of you once again. God, you were so beautiful. His naked body pressing against yours. His hand reached up to trace your jaw, fingers coming to a rest on your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “Are you sure you want this?” As much as he dreamt of you, as much as he wanted this, he needed to know you felt the same. That this wasn’t something one-sided. Your hands reached around him, settling on the back of his neck, the smile you gave him was sweet, the lust in your eyes seeming to give way to something softer, something he’d dare call adoring. “John, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been the one pursuing you all night. I know what I want. I know I want you.” He couldn’t formulate a response aside from bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet at first but quickly sank back into something laced with sinful intents. He only pulled back to reach into the drawer of his nightstand, his hands tracing over the contents, searching for a condom. “John,” your voice was smaller than it had been a minute ago. “I-I’m clean. Got tested a bit ago. I, uh, I’m also on the pill.” His gaze was unable to leave your face as he tried to make sense of the words. His brain short-circuiting. When he didn’t respond, you continued, “S-so, I mean if you’re clean, we- I’m okay if we don’t use one.” He nodded, slowly at first, then with barely contained enthusiasm. “God, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered as his lips met yours once again. The kiss was chaste, cut short by both of your eagerness. John moved back, kneeling between your legs, one hand languidly stroking his cock as he looked down at you. He used his other hand to help scoot you forward, tipping your hips up slightly as your legs wrapped around his waist. He ran his tip over your entrance, tapping it against your clit. A shudder ran through your body as you let out a frustrated groan. He did it again, relishing in the way you squirmed as he refused to give you what you so desperately needed. “John,” your voice was clipped, stern. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to leave and go finished myself off…alone.” He got the message, letting his tip stop at your dripping entrance before pushing in slowly. The heat and the tightness that met him was almost overwhelming. He had to stop himself from pushing in all the way in one go. He tried to go slowly, an inch at a time, but the way you were wrapped around his length was too much. Before he could stop himself, his hips thrust forward, entering you to the hilt, his balls pressed against your ass. He managed to let out a strangled, “sorry,” as he rested inside you, unmoving. You had gasped at the sudden movement, but now with him still, pressing incessantly into your g-spot, you were beginning to gyrate your hips, encouraging him to begin to move. His hands had come to rest beside your head, holding his body over yours as he slowly brought his hips back before thrusting into you. You moaned loudly as his body met yours. The pace he started was slow, purposeful. One of his hands moved to cup your jaw, bringing your lips to meet his in an almost loving kiss. He was holding back, not wanting to speed up for fear of hurting you. You seemed to not care as you pulled your lips back from him. Your gaze met his, it was hard and determined. “I’m not a doll, John. I'm not gonna break.” You brought your lips to his ear, the brush of them sending shivers down his spine as you whispered, “been waiting for this for months. Fuck me like you mean it.” You barely had time to draw back before he began to pound into you, his pace unrelenting. The moans leaving your mouth were heavenly, intoxicating. He wanted more. He moved his lips to your throat, biting and sucking the delicate skin. The whine you let out when he nipped you particularly hard had him grinning against your neck. He brought a hand up to your tits, tweaking your nipples like he did earlier on the couch, teasing you. He felt you grip down on him whenever he pulled or pinched especially hard. He was panting, both from the physical excretion as well as the overwhelming pleasure. He could hear how wet you were with each thrust, the noises your body made driving him to thrust a little harder. “You were fuckin’ made for me, sweetheart,” he growled out between breaths. As heat coiled in his stomach, he kept remembering what you had said. How you wanted him to cum inside of you, how you’d wanted him for months. He needed to see it when it happened. Needed to see what you’d look like stuffed full of his cum. His thrusts slowed as he shifted off your neck, his hand leaving your chest as he sat up. He removed your legs from his waist and instead lifted them until they rested on his shoulders. When he leaned back down again, his hands came to rest on either side of your head, essentially folding you in half. He gave a hard thrust into you. The new angle made him sink deeper, his cock brushing against your g-spot with each stroke. Even though you felt tight before, now every move he made had you squeezing him. He knew he couldn’t possibly last much longer but he had to make you cum before he did. Had to give you a reason to do this again. You were letting out a steady stream of curses each time he pounded into you. Your hands gripping the sheets, bunching them tightly in your fists. Your eyes were black with lust and your mouth hung open, sweat shone on your forehead and chest. You looked like a fucking angel. John couldn’t help the praise that dripped from his lips. “You’re such a good girl for me, ain’tcha. Taking me so fuckin’ well.” He moved one of his hands to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. “Wanted you since I first saw ya. Wanted to take ya right on the porch.” “John,” you let out a breathy whine. He kept going, “that day you came over in that stupid sundress. Looked so sweet in it. All dolled up. Wanted to bend you over. Wanted to fuck you until you were screaming my name.” He gave a particularly hard thrust, emphasizing his words. “W-wore it for you,” you managed to get out around harsh moans. He could barely think through the fog of pleasure that permeated his brain. “That’s my girl,” he grunted. His hair was sticking to his forehead, his chest flushed red, sweat beading on his skin. He was so fucking close, for the second time that night. You’d made a mess of him. “Fuck,” your body seemed to be almost shaking with pleasure. “J-John, I’m gonna cum. P-please don’t stop, feels so good.” He kept his pace and seconds later you were clamping down on him like a vice. Your body shook with the waves of pleasure that washed over you. The sensation of you squeezing around him sent him right to the brink of his orgasm. His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his high, his balls drawing up, his pants becoming harsher. “C-cum inside me, John. please,” your worn voice all but begged as your eyes met his. Those words were the final push that threw him over the edge. He thrust once, twice, three more times before spilling inside you. His vision was overtaken by white. He rocked into you as the waves overtook him. He could feel the tingling sensation in his fingertips, in his toes. When he seemingly came back into himself, the sight that greeted him was heavenly. You were spread below him, chest still heaving, bottom lip swollen from kisses and bites. Your hands which had been gripping the sheets now ran up and down his sides, helping bring him back down from the mind-blowing orgasm. He lowered your legs from his shoulders, pulling out of you with a soft grunt. He couldn’t help but watch as his seed leaked from your hole. His fingers moved without thought to stuff his spend back inside you. He only stopped when you let out a slightly pained moan, igniting a feeling of worry in his chest. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to hurt ya.” You smiled and chuckled weakly, “s’okay, just sensitive right now.” He wanted to press a gentle kiss to your temple but couldn’t muster up the courage. He stood up from the bed with a small groan. “I’ll be right back sweetheart, gonna clean up.” He stumbled off towards the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and wiping himself down before tossing it into the hamper. He grabbed another cloth, making sure the water wasn’t too hot or too cold before he wrung it out and returned to the bedroom. You were in the same position as you’d been when he left, but now your legs were closed. He knelt before you on the bed. “You okay with me cleanin’ you up?” you nodded sweetly, your eyes closing as he gently swiped the rag over you. When he was done, he tossed the rag to the side, letting it join the pile of clothes already on the floor. He didn’t want your time together to end, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable either and the doubts were beginning to creep in on the edge of his mind. “You, uh, you don’t have to sleep here, with me, if you don’t want,” he started, staring at his hands. “The other room’s still free if you'd like.” When he brought his gaze to yours he was met with something he could only describe as affection. “I’m not going anywhere if that’s alright with you,” your voice was kind as you smiled at him. “Now come to bed, I’m getting cold here all alone.” He couldn’t contain the grin that broke out on his face. He laid down on his back, his arm outstretched, inviting you in. You curled right into his side, your head coming to rest on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you close. Despite just being inside you, the gentle cuddling had him blushing harder than he had all night. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight, under a sky of dark clouds, and the steady pounding of rain on the roof, you were his and he was yours. And that was good enough.

I know this was super long for a one-shot smut fic but if you made it all the way through, I hope you enjoyed it! This was my first time writing smut from a man's perspective so I'm sorry if anything was weird. I just love John Marston very much <3 Comments/criticisms are always welcome! Crossposted on AO3 @holyratrimony​ <3333

Taglist: @cowboydisaster​

This fic was inspired by this post by @butchdutch

[sleepyelliee]

how john and abigail treat you after finding out your dating jack. part two.

before you continue!

GN reader, implied financial issues, brief mentions of the VDL gang, brief mention of injury, implied starvation and poverty. Jack is nineteen years old, Abigail and John survive AU. Implied malnourishment Loosely proofread, lmk if I missed anything. just 'you.'

credits...

thank you so much for the love on the last post!! lmk if you want me to write more of this series. part one.

One of my mutuals gave me this idea, so thank you so much @creamqueen <3.

puppy love trope implied with jack marston <3.

Throughout the short period of knowing the marston family, you managed to make a name for yourself in that household. You were popular within the walls of the ranch because it seemed like the couple's lovestruck son didn't ever stay quiet about you, everyday either John or Abigail had to hear about how pretty you were, how you were such a sweetheart, the looks that you give him, and the list seemed to go on without a stop.

Abigail and John both enjoyed your company in that small amount of time of meeting them couple weeks back. Abigail basically became the mother you never had due to her wanting to teach you everything and anything because you were never able to experience that growing up. She loved the sweet mannerisms that would escape your lips whenever you thanked her for something she would've considered small - hand sewing your clothes, fixing up old clothes that had holes in them, teaching you new recipes and she adored whenever you would compliment her food, knowing you aren't as lucky as most, causing her to insist on giving you more food because your small and malnourished body always makes her heart break.

She was also grateful that her son managed to find someone sweet as you, she was afraid that the morales and respectful demeanor she stuck into that boy's head would've gone to waste on someone who was a bad influence. Afterall, she didn't want her son to be following the same path they were running away from for years.

John was no different to you, he was carrying towards you in his own way, he would back up his beloved wife when they tried to convince you to stay over, always buying freshly new packed cigarettes for you and invites you out on the porch as he would tell you old stories of running in a gang - scolding you in the process not to make the same mistakes he did. He smuggles... insists giving you money whenever he would shove it in the pocket of your coat whenever Abigail would fix up your clothes, he knew that you needed it more to keep yourself stable because you'll decline the money otherwise. John decides to set up a room for you in the attic without telling you and gets his beloved wife's opinion aswell as the pair would decorate the room and put things you were lacking - warm blankets, couple of snacks, shoes, clothes and whatever else jack tells them that you needed at the moment.

Both parents also took notice of how Jack no longer called you by your first name. Anytime he spoke about you at dinner, he would call you sweetheart, love, darling, honey or anything that came to his mind that caused his cheeks to grow a rosy red.

He was excited for you to see the room they set up for you, it meant that you finally you have a chance to relax and enjoy a fully cushioned bed without having to worry about bills or food. It also meant that he gets to see you more often and spend more time with you.

He knows that your not fully moved in yet, but the thought of you staying here for a couple of nights makes the young man excited, Afterall he misses you whenever your not around.

...

When you found yourself on the property that belonged to the Marston's once again, you were learning back in the chair as your boyfriends father spoke about his past, mentioning couple members of the gang he used to run in. He slipped a pack of cigarettes to you like he does normally, insisting that you should take one or more.

You don't know how you found yourself smoking cigarettes as the cold wind blew against you to Jack showing the new room they are allowing you to stay in for however you'll like with a big grin on his face - excited that your going to stay over for a couple more nights than just one.

It still didn't change the fact that his arms were wrapped tightly against you, his nose buried deep in your neck as he muttered reassuring words, hoping you'll accept the offer as you two laid down on the small bed, squished together making the proximity closer.

...

Most cases whenever you stayed over, Jack would either be in the room that is considered yours or you'll be in his. You two would sleep until Jack would wake you up, hearing Abigail scold both of you through the door, stating that it's late and breakfast is already cold. Depending on the gunslingers mood, sometimes he would smart-mouth his mother just to hold you longer, causing him to get scolded more.

You two would help John with ranch work, he would always try to impress you in some type of way or both of you would get distracted and his father would scold you both.

thank you so much for reading! please do not repost my work on any other platform, reblogs and likes are very appreciated! <3. masterlist

[marstonandson]

Anger and Worry Are My Best Friends

Abigail paces, trying to decide whether she ought to be angry or worried. She knows it’s both, but she doesn’t know what to do. The two emotions rear their ugly heads directly into her chest, and she hates how familiar it feels.

John is missing, has been for a whole day, and Beecher’s Hope is near silent. She had sent Uncle to search for him, but he had no luck. She keeps a brave face on for Jack like she always does, but he’s a smart boy. He worries, too. He knows what his father is like.

Stepping forward, she peers into the small crack through to Jack’s room, thankfully finding him asleep. Finally, after hours, he’d put down that book and rested his eyes. She won’t be sleeping, but that doesn’t mean Jack should share that same fate.

Unable to stand still, Abigail huffs softly and walks back to the living room, watching the moon try its best to peek through the cloudy night sky. She isn’t sure how long she stares out the window until she hears very faint hooves in the distance. Anger wins the fight against worry, then, as she hikes up her dress and storms out to the porch.

She watches John dismount his horse, hitching her much slower than he usually does. He whispers something to her and turns around, walking somewhat wobbly toward the house. The closer he gets, the more an uneasy feeling settles in Abigail’s stomach.

“Where on Earth have you been? What happened to you?” she asks, though it doesn’t have quite nearly the bite she wants it to, watching him hold onto the banister for support as he ascends the stairs to meet her.

“Sorry,” is all he can manage in the moment, and she gives him a once-over; thankfully, no wounds, just bloodshot eyes and sagged shoulders, looking the worst she’s seen him since he got attacked by wolves.

Some of the fire returns to her voice. “Sorry ain’t enough, John Marston!” She steps closer, resisting the urge to shove him. “You can’t just go off somewhere without tellin’ me! I thought you was dead or worse!”

Guilt settles into his half-lidded eyes. “I know.”

Her fire has nowhere to go. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him like this before. Faltering, she takes a step back. “Alright, well…You gonna tell me what happened or not?” John tries to step forward, but his knees shake and she rushes forward to prop him up by the chest and shoulders, their faces inches away from each other. She can see, even in the dark, how deep the shadows under his eyes are. She can’t help but murmur, “Jesus, John…”

Perhaps, if it were up to him, he’d just lay down on the porch and stay there for a few days. She decides it isn’t up to him, and takes one of his arms to help him inside.

It’s somewhat of a struggle, but eventually she gets him to sit on the edge of their bed. While she’s working on taking off his belt and placing his hat on the nightstand, he mumbles, words slurring together. “Haven’t been sleepin’. Went to go visit Arthur’s grave.”

Abigail pauses, staring down at her hands for a moment. Charles had buried him a long time ago. She finishes taking off his shoes and stands up, hands on hips. “Why?”

“Been a year since all that,” he answers, slowly lifting his clouded gaze to hers. “Keep havin’ dreams about him, so I ain’t been sleepin’.”

Her heart thrums painfully. She misses him, too.

“Oh, John,” she sighs, wondering how long he’d gone without any rest, and steps forward to cup his face in her hands. He seems to melt into them. “He’d be happy, y’know. To see us here.”

His eyes flutter closed, and she can’t tell if those words comforted him or made it worse. She pulls back, stepping around to climb into bed, pulling him to lay down with her. He buries his face in her chest and she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Sleep, John.”

It doesn’t take much for him to relax. She stays awake for a few hours, watching over him, shooting occasional glances toward the hat that used to belong to Arthur.

As she drifts, she hopes that someday, the brothers will be reunited.

[bandgie]

Predator and Prey

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

a/n: not the last chapter I lied :( but chapter 5!

warnings!: oral (m.receiving), fire, unspoken death (idk how to say it), angst??? I dunno bro just read it please,

3.4k words

It's last day staying with Meredith at her bar. You and Nyryx had been taking cover at the village for enough days, and you're still on the run from killing the famed monster hunter. Still, you've managed to enjoy the company of the family. Meredith and Sammuel with their opposite yet perfectly blended personalities, the energetic and mischievous younger sons, and Abigail who was a lot more stubborn and outspoken than you originally thought.

Meredith had packed you a bag for your trip that included gloves, dried food, herbs, and other necessities for long distance traveling. "I suppose I should give it to you now," she told you. "I will be gone in the early morning, and I wanted to make sure you were ready for your journey in the morrow." You hugged her, taking a last deep inhale of her alcoholic sweet smell before you pulled away, "Thank you."

Now you laid in bed after a long day of working. There was an increase of customer, new faces, even more fights. You were tired from the long day, but you were still eager about what was to come tonight. You and Nryrx had talked about helping his urges so he doesn't lose control, though you don't mind it.

You wanted to be prepared for when he came, so you stripped into a plain long sleeve with cross cross patterns on the upper chest with underwear on. Now it was a waiting game, and truthfully you were anxious. You had never planned on what to do with someone when it came to being intimate, it just kinda happened. This, however, is calculated. It's purposeful, for god's sake it's your plan. The rapid beating of your heart, the queasiness in your stomach, the way you feel as though you can't take a deep breath...this is not just a twisted booty call.

Before you could fully go into panic mode, you could hear the flapping of large wings. Nyryx grips the edges of the window frame, eyes searching the room briefly before he sets his gaze you. Slowly, quietly, he crawls into your room. One leg after the other, head ducking in to fit before he crouches on the floor, eyes never once leaving you.

It's predatory in how he stalks you, how he entered the guest room. He stands, not at his full height though since he would hit the roof. He eyes you weirdly, noticing the nervousness in the air, "Is everything all right?"

You shake your head from his previous movements, "Yeah, everything's good sorry." He walks closer, eyebrows furrowing at your words, he doesn't believe you. "Was it the bar?" Nyryx voice is concerned, "Did you not have a good day?" You smile and laugh quietly, shaking your head again, "Dude, stop. I'm fine, just a little nervous." Nyryx expresses a small ooh sounds before sitting on the bed, it barely creaks under him.

"I see," he starts. "Do not worry. I am a little curious on what you have planned." He smiles widely at you, eyes turning fully black. "When should we begin?"

-

You kneeling before him, sitting in a prayer position with him sitting on the bed with his legs open. Nyryx is completely nude, his grey skin glittering in the moonlight and his cock half-hard. You had teased him through his shorts, ignoring his frustrated groans and irritated words. It's clear he's never been teased before, always used to being the one in control.

You rub your lips on his length, tongue occasionally peeking out to taste him. It's your first time giving him head, and his size is daunting. You can clearly see his protruding veins from where you sit, his dark colored cock growing his each swipe you give him. He clutching the edge of the bed, obviously resisting from gripping the sides of your head.

You drag your lips up and down, kissing his tip when you reach it. You decide not to you use your hands yet, keeping them on his thighs. You look up from your lashes you watch his expression, and he almost looks pissed. His nose is scrunched up, lips pressed tightly, eyes barely open as he looks down at you. You smile on his cock, licking the underside of him.

He groans quietly, "When will you take me fully prey?" You pull your mouth away from his cock, holding back a laugh when his hips thrust upward to catch your warm mouth. You replace it when your hand, gently stroking him. "When I want to," you voice is teasing. "Or I could stop right now, if that's what you want." His eyes shoot open, face suddenly serious and almost offended, "No, continue." You nod and tighten your grip around him, "That's what I thought."

Your previous nervousness was completely gone, instead you found confidence in your movements and his impatientness. You could hear the slick sounds he produced while you pumped him, resisting the urge to suck his tip. You were getting wet as you felt his smooth, hard dick between your fingers. This is what has been inside you, this is what makes you feel so good it almost hurts. You tights your thighs, applying pressure to the place between your legs as some relief. It's not a lot, but it will do. Nryryx is more important, or his cock is at least.

You gaze your thumb across his slit, smiling when he moans. You decide to tease his tip, paying extra attention to it by rubbing, stroking, and smearing his precum all over himself. It's clear that Nyryx is struggling, drool seeping from his mouth as he looks at you. His hips buck at your movements from sensitivity, hissing when you gently squeeze the tip of dick between your thumb and forefinger.

You pussy is drooling, mouth salivating at the sight on him. Nyryx could easily over power you, take you as he wants, but he doesn't of course. He finds the strength to let you do with him as you please, finding the bed the only thing he can grip. "You're doing a great job," you praise. Nyryx locks his eyes with yours and gives you a weak smile, "This is quite a tough teaching."

You laugh, "Is it? I should go easier on you then." You lean forward to take the first few inches on his dick in your mouth. You purr as you taste him, your hand at the base of his cock. Nyryx almost loses his composure, letting out a loud groan that has you worrying about waking everyone in the house up. You feel so warm and wet against him, it's a much smaller version of a pussy.

Nyryx decided it's okay to let one hand touch your head, brushing your hair back and coaxing your cheek with his talon. You look up at him with his cock shoved in your mouth, eyes wide and lips wet. You looks so pretty like this, he thinks. For a moment just for a moment, Nyryx is happy you're taking the lead. He would've blown right past your lips, not bothering to admire your lustful gaze. This dynamic gives him the opportunity to appreciate your expression, your swollen lips. Maybe he should have you between his legs more often.

You look away from his eyes to focus at the task at hand, trying to fit his length down your throat. It will be impossible for sure, but your hand can manage the rest. You relax the back in your throat and take deep breath, exhaling little bits of air the deeper you take him in. You can feel how your mouth leaks with his and your fluids, how your throat contracts at his girth. You gag when he touches the back of your throat, almost pulling away completely. You let an inch leave your lips so you cam stroke him with your hand, the other playing with his balls.

You use the slobber as extra lubrication as you stroke him, moving your head with a fluid motion. Your eyes are closed as you concentrate, but your ears pick on his moans. Nyryx usually grunts when he takes you, deep and guttural. His moans though, are a little higher pitched, like a desperate howl somewhere deep in the woods. His eyes are on you, though you can't see. He keeps his hand gentle as he caress your skin, loving the goosebumps that rise when he does.

You can feel your sticky underwear, shifting uncomfortably and needy. Still, you're determined. You don't know if you can make him cum from your lips, but you at least want to see how far you can push him. He's doing a good job so far, though he occasionally pulls on your hair when you suck harshly on him. You were debating on deep throating him again when you hear a scream outside your window.

You pop his dick out your mouth as you turn around, but Nyryx is already standing at the window. It's hard not to stare at his proud cock, but his fierce gaze makes you realize there are important things happening. You slowly stand to you feet and walk to to window with him, the fire in your stomach disappearing as you see actual flames outside.

A house not too far is set ablaze, men in armor are holding torches, families are crying as the watch their home turn into ash. You gasp, tears quickly meeting your eyes as you watch the scene. You don't notice Nyryx shove his pants on, grabbing a pair of wool pants and shoes that he presents with you. Your eyes are stuck on the scene though, it's not until he shakes and calls your name that you finally snap your of your spell.

"We need to go," his voice does not have any room for questioning. You don't ned to ask what's going on, those men are looking for you and Nyryx. You overstayed your visit, you put a village in danger, you put Nyryx and yourself family in danger. You grab the pants and put them on, the shoes next, then you see the bag Meredith packed you. You halt your fast movements for a second, picking up the bag.

"We can't leave them," your voice quivers, furiously wiping the tears away. You can already hear Nyryx preparing to argue, so you keep talking, "Nyryx we can't. They fed me, housed me, they-" Nyryx growls threateningly, cutting you off. He walks close to you, his clawed feet splintering the wooden ground beneath him. "You misheard me, I said we need to go, not them," his black eyes are menacing.

More tears slip past your face, voice breaking into a sob, "Please. I can get them out of the house and-" Nyryx doesn't listen to what you say next, instead slipping the bag you had in your hands across his shoulder. The screaming outside was now unbearably loud, you could hear Sammuel yell for his family to wake up. There's a possibility they can make it out themselves, leave the village before is completely on fire. You need to see it though, it just can't be a possibility. You need to see them leave safely.

Nyryx grabs you, throwing you into a bridal position as you squirm and cry against him. You're begging, pleading, then yelling at him. He ignores all your slaps, vicious words, clawing, and tears. Nyryx perches himself out the window looking down at the snow covered in flames, blood, and bodies. He can hear the guards shouting your name, questioning people as they destroy their homes. It truly is a sad sight, but he can't risk it. He can't risk losing you. So if you temporarily hating him is what needs to be done so ensure that, then so be it.

Neither of you had heard the door swing open, neither of you noticed the presence of another person. You did, however, hear the way your name was called, almost in disbelief. You turn and see Abigail standing at the doorway, eyes wide in shock and mouth agape. Her eyes are panicked, body trembling in flight mode, but she can still stumble out one word, "What..."

Without a thought, Nryrx takes flight. He ignores your resumed weeping, your scared eyes as you look down at the ruined snow beneath you. You can't stand the sight, so you bury your face into his chest. It helps protect your face from the harsh, freezing wind, but it doesn't stop your crying.

-

You knocked out in Nyryx's arms, and he was silently grateful to no longer hear your weeps. It was cold this dead in the night, too cold. He couldn't leave you in the snow to rest properly nor could he chance taking coverage in a different town, not this soon at least.

You shivered when he laid you on pile of snow and leaves temporarily. Nyryx searched for dry sticks, creating a two large lumps of what was soon to be a bonfire. It might alert where you both are hiding, but he can't risk you getting sick when you're this close to getting home.

Nyryx inhales deeply, letting his chest heat up and feeling the nearly unbearable burn before exhaling, flames escaping his mouth with a foul burnt smell. He did the same to the second one, immediately feeling the heat that radiated from them. He backed away and made his way to you. Nyryx's chest ached seeing your tear-stained face, your slightly purple lips, and tired expression.

It's a shame really, he knew you were really enjoying yourself in that village with that family, but all good things come to an end. Nyryx wasn't sure if you'd understand what he did, why he did. There was no one other than you to blame for thinking he could spare the compassion he had for you with others. Nyryx was a demon, and it was only death that could free him from his curse.

You woke up to the feeling of rough hands picking you up, warmth immediately filling your body from Nyryx's body heat and the fires your sleepy eyes saw. The woods was eerily quiet, and it didn't not help that you Nyryx was silent, in thought. You were curious about his quietness, but you did not speak.

You were still reminiscing about Meredith and her family. How you betrayed Abigail and snuck in a demon in their house. You could blame Nyryx for the possible demise of that family all you want, but it was you that opened the door (and your legs) for him the very first night. You were the one that begged to stay at a village despite knowing you are being pursued. Nyryx is not to blame, at least not fully.

You wiped the stray tears that fell down your face, sniffing quietly. Nyryx's head looked down at you, finally realizing your wakefulness. He sat with you in his arms near the fire, eyes with an expression you couldn't possibly began to unfold. He looked away from you, face catching the reflection of the fires before you both. Nyryx looked beautiful, truly. In this moment, you could finally understand that he was a creature of the night.

His skin blends perfectly in the dark sky. Without the fire, you're not sure if you would be able to see him despite being right in front of you. His dark eyes throw back the reflection of the flames, giving the impression that he must have night vision. His talons were meant for shredding, yet he holds you so carefully, so tenderly. Nyryx's appearance screams predator, but the way he keeps you near him is anything but.

He notices your staring, shifting almost awkwardly with you in his grasp. He clears his throat, "Tomorrow night will be the full moon." Nyryx keep his eyes on the fire, as if he is uninterested in what he said and what you might say. You can tell though, he's nervous. He stiff, on edge, he's a statue. You nod against his chest, feeling his shallow breaths and his quick heart beat.

"Yeah," you also take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. There is no denying in what is to come, what is to be left behind. It's scary, thinking about returning to your normal life when you've experienced such an unbelievable two weeks. Is it even possible?

"I'm scared," you confess to Nryrx. He finally looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing and lips parted, "Of what?" You snuggle closer to his frame, unsure of how to start. There's so many things you're fearful of: things that have happened and things that haven't happened yet.

"Of leaving you," your voice is barely a whisper. You're sure it was carried away by the soft wind, but his eyes widen as he hears you. "You're scared of leaving me?" He sounds almost in disbelief. It wasn't long ago that you were cursing him, crying at the top of your lungs about his lack of empathy, his demonic self. Yet here you were, on the verge of tears at the mere thought of leaving him.

It almost made him smile.

"I...I don't know what's gonna happen. Won't those people be looking for us? For you? We're in this mess 'cuz of me, and imma be leaving to have you deal with it all by yourself-" your rambling is cut off by Nyryx laughing. You raise an eyebrow, unsure what part of what you were saying was the punchline.

"Prey," his nickname call your attention, "I believe you have other things to consider than my safety. I have the capability to take care of myself just fine. Do not allow 'my safety' to hold yourself back from going to where you belong."

His words were meant to be comforting, but you still can't shake the way he said 'where you belong'. You were never meant to find that cave, to run into that mansion, to meet Nyryx, to feel such a conflicting way towards him. You don't belong here, you don't belong with him. You couldn't help the tears the spilled past your waterline, wetting his chest. Nyryx was quick to wipe your tears away, not bothering to bring them to his lips to taste you.

Why did your family have to go to the beach for Easter? Why couldn't they have gone to a public garden nearby? Why did you have to be curious and go into the cold cave? Why do you have to go through this?

It would be better to forget, to tell yourself that this didn't happen and that it's all pretend. You should have never left your family's side, this would have never happened. It would have been better, you wouldn't have to deal with this pain.

Opposing thoughts and questions infiltrates your thoughts. Would it have been better though? Ignoring the chill from the magical cave, ignoring Nyryx's call for help. He would still be in that cage, out in the cold. Who knows what would have happened to him, what animal they could've treated him as. Neither of you will know though, because that didn't happen. You did save him, freed him of a fate he so desperately needed to escape. That alone, made this entire ordeal worth it.

Nyryz was quietly talking to you, whispering words of solace to you. You weren't fully listening to what he was saying, but it's still soothing to hear his voice against your ear. You took a deep shaky breath, finally coming to your resolve.

"Thank you. Maybe it's stupid, but I really thought we could save everyone you know?" You titled your head up to him as you spoke. He only hummed in understanding and nodded, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You could feel how your stomach fluttered at his action, the brief increase of your heartbeat.

"It was...a foolish thought, but endearing nonetheless," Nyryx had a mischievous smile as he replied. You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, smacking his chest in the process. It was much too soon to joke like that, but you decided to ignore it. You opted to make your self comfortable against his chest, relishing in his touch.

Tonight is the last night you will ever sleep in his arms, in his world, in his embrace. The thought tempts you to cry again, but instead you screw your eyes shut. Right now, in this moment, all the matters is you against him. You can allow yourself one tearless night.

a/n: I feel so bad bro I keep edging you guys but next chapter should be the last one. I just write and I can't stop cuz I'm setting up the mood or scenario idk man. I have a problem

taglist: @whatamidoing89, @panda-wolf, @fatgumsbby

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE CHRIS MANAWA HEADCANONS (ftwd)

because i have to process his death somehow

literally no one asked but i'm doing this anyway; chris was instantly my favourite character after the riot, i might try and write yandere headcanons for all the characters i take a liking to after their death. (just so i can say they didn't die and are off yandereing somewhere 🤡)

out of all the characters (so far: s3 e1) chris has the most yandere potential, by a landslide. honestly it doesn't matter if he knew his darling before everything went to shit or if he met them along the way, either way, they're the only person he feels a sense of kinship with, the only person that understands him.

• what might of been a fondness, or a crush, develops into a consuming obsession as chris adapts to the new way of the world. his darling could have joined the group at LA, on the sea, at abigails villa or maybe they heard the car crash and came running to help, chris probably thinks they're extra weight on the group, why is his dad so soft hearted that they're letting a stranger join them? of course he'll feel bad once he realises they have no one else.

• the progression of developing obsessive thoughts about his darling to going full blown yandere is both gradual and alarmingly sudden: maybe his darling followed him and travis and then saved him from the bromigos (derek, brandon) putting him down.

• but unlike other yandere's, his darling has to "not look at him like he's disgusting" (your own words, christopher), they have to stay with him, and not condemn his actions as travis had.

• now they're the only person he has left, and what had been a festering obsession slowly growing as he became more violent, suddenly blows up; if he weren't injured, he'd surely drag his darling back to the farm and lock them far away from what was left of the world.

• either way, his darling will have to make their way back to the farm with him in order for him to heal. it was just him and his darling as far as chris was concerned. his father left him so easily, no one else would waste their time on someone as useless and injured as he now was, if his darling hadn't taken down brandon and derek, they would have without hesitation.

• initially, when it's just him and his darling, chris is a self sabotage kind of yandere. he pushes them away, tells them to leave him to die there; it's what they want to do, they just don't have the guts to do it.

• honestly his darling's compassion is what got them into this mess, through all his aggression and outbursts they don't abandon him when they know his leg is never going to return to how it was; he'll always be a burden on their back. he tells them this, but they still stay with him.

• the only one's who matter to him are himself and his darling, he's desperate for his injury to heal so he can stop being such a deadweight. chris hates the look of exhaustion they have after hunting for food and supplies, securing the farm from walkers and hostile survivors, they're doing it all for him and all he can do is lay there.

• it's chris's need to not be seen as a damaged child by his darling that fuels his obsession, the months they spend providing for him he fantasises about regaining his mobility, and shooting their leg so they become fully reliant on him.

• but chris would never let them fully heal, he's too afraid of coming across other survivors, his darling having other options. his fear of them leaving gets better but it never goes away.

• he's a controlling yandere, even with his injury, his darling can't leave the room without him interrogating them, where are you going? how long will you be? why are you going?! it's absolutely exhausting for his darling, but they probably brush it off as him being terrified of being left alone to die, he's got no one but them so why wouldn't he panic when they have to go out.

• whether chris's darling is younger or older than him, they'll feel responsible for him. but don't go acting all parental, darling, if for a moment he feels like they see him as a kid, he'll explode "THERE IS ONLY ALIVE AND DEAD IN THIS WORLD, STOP TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD" but by no means does this mean he doesn't want them to tuck him in before he goes to sleep, or coddle him throughout the healing process, he's a bit of a tsun-yan, but once his leg heals, and he feels like less of a burden, the outbursts will stop.

• chris is beyond possessive, he takes down all the old pictures of the suarez family just so he can be the only person they see. he doesn't hesitate for a moment in putting down other survivors that approach the farm, he takes some sort of sick joy in knowing he's keeping someone to himself for once. he grows to hate it when they bring up their old life and family; he can talk about his all he wants though, lil hypocrite.

• resources on the farm will run out eventually, chris and his darling will be forced to find shelter somewhere else, but he's not letting them go no matter what; they'll go on hunts together, chris won't let them leave his sight even to go to the bathroom as he becomes increasingly clingy.

• if they have to join a group, he won't let them get close to anyone, and plans to kill all the members of the group and take their shelter and supplies. whether he goes through with his plans depends on how much control his darling has over his impulses. he's a ticking time bomb, and his darling will come to know that well.

[madlysage]

my stardew valley bachelor headcannons:

(basically just me creating my own characters as fodder for fic atp :,)

elliott (my darling)

- is from a wealthy family- his dad is british and a distant descendent of the royal family

- went to college for an english and philosophy double major and graduated with honors

- had an affair with a professor in college (he didn’t know she was married) and is estranged from his parents as a result

- secretly loves trashy bodice ripper romance books

- always comes in without knocking (dramatic man that he is)

- cannot garden to save his life

- an ugly crier

- yappiest yapper ever

- LOVES dancing (and was classically trained as a child- hello rich preppy parents)

-bi king

^^ like this but longer red hair (UGH)

sebastian

- bi-icon

- he’s mixed white and native american (choctaw to be specific)

- i always picture him with long ass black hair (it’s hot sorry)

- literally always picture billy wirth….

- he has a secret belly button piercing (but he’s hiding it from robin)

- his mom and dad had him as teens and his dad abandoned them because his family didn’t approve

- wants to be closer to maru but doesn’t know how

- alternates having crushes on sam and abigail (but let’s be so real it’s gotta be sam)

- has a soft spot for classical music

- smokes weed even more than cigs- feels responsible for how much sam smokes too

sebastian fans come at me all u want this is the man in my head when i picture himmmmmmmm

sam

-another bicon (could honestly be pan)

- secretly a smoker (don’t tell jodi)

- has tons of army men in his room- he started collecting them when his dad got deployed

- loves crop tops and will cut any and all of his band tees- but his mom keeps throwing them away

- is still kinda in the closet and a little girl crazy (particularly for abigail and penny)

- is teaching jas to skateboard on school breaks ever since she asked (a bit to impress penny)

(this just works for me idk- he gives me this vibe but like grungier and spunkier maybe)

harvey

- refuses to drink anything but black coffee

- king of anxiety

- secretly a good cook

- loses his glasses at least once a week

- can name any model of plane just from the sound of the engine

- wants to get his pilot’s license

- has a phenomenal record collection

………… yes this is my harvey and I WILL TAKE 0 NOTES GO ATJ GO

shane

- leaned how to braid hair just for jas

- was on the gridball team in highschool but keeps it a secret to avoid alex begging him to join his rec team

- was also best friends with jas’ dad in highschool from the gridball team and since his death he hasn’t been able to bring himself to play again

- wanted to go to college for agriculture but the loans would have been too much

- let’s jas paint his toenails any color she wants but is too embarrassed to let her do his finger nails

- got his ears pierced one night on a bender in the city but never wears them

- has a little crush on emily but is too embarrassed by it to ever tell (he doesn’t think she would ever feel the same)

- 1/4 indian on his mom’s side but isn’t in touch with the culture

- is a vegetarian but never talks about it

likkkke COME ON

alex

- wears a specific cologne and gets very upset whenever he runs out and can’t have his “signature scent”

- gets up early and makes breakfast for his grandparents everyday

- is poly but doesn’t rlly know that’s an option- and it ruins most of his attempts at monogamous relationships

- went to college for human physiology on a gridball scholarship but got Cs the whole time (but he’s still smarter than u would think)

- does yoga with evelyn every sunday and does george’s physical therapy each day too

- is the stardew equivalent of a freaking baptist christian (he’s all into Yoba)

likeeeee is this not bro

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Chapter Thirteen Savouruex

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Crying, Implied Death, Malpractice, Lying, Realization, Injuries, Gun Violence, Betrayal.

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter

Twisted Minds Masterlist

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - DAY-

Will is in his bed, dawn light streaking through the windows. He looks drawn, ill, groggy.

The dogs are barking and he throws back the covers. To REVEAL his feet and legs are covered in dried mud which smears the bedclothes. The light hurts his eyes. Will is immediately concerned. A beautiful winter morning. Will shields his eyes on the porch as the dogs rush out barking. WINSTON stays by Will’s side. He looks down at him. Winston pushes his head under his hand. The others bark and mill. Something has them thrown, agitated. Will turns back inside.

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - DAY-

The dogs fuss around Will as he heads for the SINK, and runs the tap good and cold. He drinks from the faucet. GRABS a bottle of aspirin and weighs four in his palm before swallowing them and then bending back to the faucet, feeling bad. He glugs water, sighing breathes between each swallow.

He straightens, wipes his mouth. AND THEN, with sudden violence, he RETCHES and HURLS into the sink. AND STARES. Lying in the sink, spotted with ASPIRIN is a grey, perfectly intact HUMAN EAR... Will STARES at it...

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - DAY-

Will explodes off the porch and drops to his knees in the

yard. Retching and retching but nothing more comes.

He looks up. Around. Nothing. Whirls around. Woods all

Around. Will, his anxiety, his anguish, his fear...

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - DAY -

Will sits on the porch. Shivering. Staring. Hannibal’s car pulls up and Hannibal gets out. Comes to Will. “I went to Minnesota. I took Abigail. We went to Minnesota. She didn’t come back with me.” Will says with this eerily calm and shaken voice. Hannibal is effectively feigning shock and concern.

“Show me.” He holds out as hand. Will looks at it, looks up at Hannibal and then takes it and stands. Hannibal ushers him inside.

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - DAY-

Hannibal wraps a blanket around Will. Sits him down. Through the KITCHEN DOORWAY, Hannibal stares at what is in the sink with stunned silence. Will sits in the living room, looking into middle-distance.

“I don’t remember going to bed last night. But I must have. Maybe I got up to let the dogs out and I…” Will says his face looking stressed and distraught. He knew he could so something like this. But he never thought he would, especially to someone he cares about. What will Y/N think? What will she Do? Will she still love me?  “When did you last see Abigail?” Hannibal snaps Will out of his thought process but Will is still zoning out. “I woke up and my feet were muddy.” Will says softly and almost monotone. 

“Will….When did you last see Abigail?” Hannibal says while slowly walking towards Will. “Yesterday. At her father’s cabin. I had an episode. She said something was wrong with me. She

was afraid of me. She ran away.” Will says softly. “What happened? Why was she afraid?”

“I hallucinated. I hallucinated that I killed her. But it wasn’t real. I know it wasn’t real.” He looks at Hannibal, desperate, terrified. Hannibal is saddened, concerned. He kneels next to Will 

“Will, we have to call Jack Crawford. You can’t run from this. It will only make things worse. Get dressed.” Hannibal says reasonably and Will nods slowly. 

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - ENCLOSED PATIO - DAY-

Hannibal stands patiently next to the door observing the PERIMETER FBI AGENTS and LOCAL POLICE have established. Among the FBI and ANIMAL SERVICES VEHICLES, we can see BRIAN ZELLER, BEVERLY KATZ and JIMMY PRICE patiently waiting.

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY-

JACK CRAWFORD stands with TWO FBI AGENTS, surrounded by the dogs. Will sits, still stunned, in his overstuffed chair. “What are we going to find when we go to Minnesota, Will?” Jack asks Will as he searches for an answer he doesn’t have, then admits: “I don’t know.”

Jack studies Will, his broken pony, then turns to an AGENT:

“Process him.”

WILL GRAHAM’S HOUSE - SLOWER MOTION - DAY -

as the door swings open revealing Hannibal Lecter still standing on the porch, a sadly stoic expression on his face. WILL GRAHAM He is in HANDCUFFS, the TWO FBI AGENTS at his side. Jack Crawford follows Will out, but stops on the porch with Hannibal Lecter. Jack nods to his team and the ANIMAL CONTROL OFFICERS and FBI AGENTS, including Zeller, Price and

Katz, get to work, picking up their gear.

WILL’S P.O.V.

Zeller, Price and Katz move into his home with EVIDENCE COLLECTION KITS, their expressions dour. They look at Will, then look away. Beverly looks back, making eye contact.

Will holds her gaze for a moment then has to look away. Will is marched across the front yard by the TWO FBI AGENTS. They lead him to an FBI VEHICLE. One of the Agents opens the

back door while the other Agent tucks Will’s head and pushes him into the back seat and shuts the door.

FBI AGENTS are removing EVIDENCE BOXES from his home. Two ANIMAL HANDLERS are leading the dogs out of the house on leashes. WINSTON breaks free and runs toward Will.

A HANDLER grabs Winston’s collar and drags him away towards the DOG VAN. Winston barks and whines, looking back at Will.

He watches in anguish as Winston is dragged off. And as the S.U.V. he’s in pulls away from his home, JACK CRAWFORD AND HANNIBAL LECTER Inside Will’s house behind them, FLASHBULBS going off as Will’s living room is turned into a CRIME SCENE.

F.B.I. S.U.V. - DAY-

Being driven away, Will leans his head against the window,

his home and dogs and life receding into the distance.

B.A.U. - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

In t-shirt and boxers, WILL GRAHAM stands in the brightly-lit, sterile space on a white paper mat. Staring straight ahead. He hands his pants to Jimmy Price who bags them. His shirt and his right and left shoes are stacked on a nearby table in three separate, appropriately labelled evidence bags. His eyeglasses and watch are also bagged and tagged. Jimmy Price holds Will’s khakis with one gloved-hand and digs through the pockets with another. Zeller logs the evidence

next to an operational video camera. It is painfully awkward for them all. Will stares in silence.

“Right rear pocket. One leather wallet containing 17 dollars cash.”

“Right rear pocket. One leather wallet 17 dollars cash.” Jimmy dips a hand into another pants pocket. Removes KEYS. “Front left pocket. Key ring. Two keys. House and car.”

“Front left pocket. Key ring. Two keys. House and car.” Jimmy checks the other pocket. Finds a POCKET KNIFE. “Front right pocket. Folding knife.” He handles the small folded knife carefully, examining the knife handle, a smudged fingerprint in what might be blood.

“Front right pocket. Folding knife.” Zeller grabs a new evidence bag, drops the knife inside.

WILL  is staring straight ahead under this. RED FALLING PARTICLES come into focus. Falling through the air like snow --

B.A.U. - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - LATER-

Will stands in his underwear alone with Beverly Katz, who is SCRAPING under his nails with a small tool. A dull red RESIDUE falls onto the white paper. They’ve both seen it often enough to know what it is. BLOOD. The file slides under his nail and the red flakes fall onto

the paper...He watches the dusting of blood fall from under his nail. Beverly is looking at Will. Struggling with the situation.

“I can’t do the silent treatment. I can’t pretend I don’t know you and I can’t pretend we don’t both know what I’m finding under your nails.” Beverly says as Will remains silent, in numb shock.

“You called me once because you didn’t trust yourself to know what was real. This blood is real, Will.” Beverly says with concern for her friend, she never thought he would do this. “I know.”

“Do you know how it got there?”

“Not with certainty, no.”

“Certainty comes from the evidence. I didn’t want to find any evidence on you. I wanted to be certain about who you are. But you can’t even be certain about yourself.” Beverly says with solace. “Not anymore.” Will says almost emotionless, Numb even, but really all he can think about is how this happened and what Y/N will do. 

“If you weren’t certain about yourself, then you shouldn’t have been here. This is the FBI.” Beverly says very promptly. “I thought I would get better.”

“How long have you been lying about what’s going on with you?”

“I wasn’t lying –”

“You knew your state of mind. You should have recused yourself from any investigation. You were irresponsible and a girl is dead.” Beverly steps back from him. Angry with him. “However far over the edge you were leaning, I was hoping that you wouldn’t fall.” Will looks at her, hating this. Not wanting to face it. “You always said all you do is interpret the evidence. So do it,

Will. Interpret the evidence.”

“According to the evidence…” Will fights what he wants versus what he thinks. Finally --

a whispered, horrible realization.

“I killed Abigail Hobbs.” Will’s horrible admission… Tears forming and his voice shakes……. F.B.I. ACADEMY - JACK CRAWFORD’S OFFICE - DAY- Y/N on closer and closer onto her growing horror as she listens to Jack Crawford --“We analyzed the tissue. It matched Abigail Hobbs. It was her ear. Her blood was under Will’s fingernails. Scratches on his arms look like defensive wounds. She fought back –” Jack says.

“No. No. No. Shut up.” Y/N is struggling with this information, tears welling. She pushes them back. Finally she can’t hear another word. “Just stop talking.” It comes out more of as a plea as opposed to anything hostile. A long beat of silence, both of them stressed, neither of them above succumbing to the pressure of it.

““He won’t. Get too close.” You Told Alana you would cover him. You could see he was breaking.” Y/N says loudly, she just found out her surrogate daughter is dead, and her partner and Lover killed her. You would be upset as well. Well if you believed it. “Yes, I could. And I kept pushing him because he was saving lives.” Jack says Feeling for the woman in front of him. “Not Abigail Hobbs’ life.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you couldn’t see he was breaking.”

“Of course I could see it! Alana even told you not to put him out there.”

“Every decision I made about Will Graham’s mental health was under the advisement of a respected psychiatrist, who Alana Recommended.” Jack says as he glares at her pointedly. 

“Hannibal had to know. He had to see something was wrong.” Y/N knew, she knew Hannibal saw something was wrong, he very clearly wasnt stupid, and he definetly wasnt one to shy away from something he could study. 

“Not until it was too late. Just like the rest of us. Hannibal said Will was exhibiting signs of dementia.”

“Dementia isn’t a disease, it’s a symptom of disease. We have to find out what’s causing it and treat it.”Y/N exclaims, its an act, Will doesnt have dementia, this is something Y/N knows, she knows so much and speculates so much more but who can you trust when you know too much. 

“The concern is that there may not be anything to treat. Will had a brain scan. They found nothing.” Did they? Did they find nothing or is that just what Hannibal told Will? “This started with Garret Jacob Hobbs.”

“Maybe Will did what Garret Jacob Hobbs couldn’t do. Kill his daughter.”

“Abigail’s blood is on all of us. And so is Will’s.” the weight of that responsibility hangs in the way...

FBI PARKING LOT - Y/N L/N’S CAR - DAY-

We HEAR a MUFFLED SCREAM coming from the inside of the vehicle until it FINDS Dr. Y/N L/N behind the wheel of her car, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as

she lets out her frustration and anger and sadness.

B.A.U. - INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY-

Will sits at a table in his jump suit. Y/N L/N ENTERS. She can’t hide her distress at seeing him this way. And he can’t hide his relief at seeing her walk through the door.  “Hi.” he akwardly smiles, he hopes she still loves him.  “Hi.” I say as i look at him, i dont believe he could have killed her, nor anyone else besides Garret Jacob Hobbs. 

“You’re flushed. You been yelling?” Will notices, it makes me smirk. “Screaming is more like it.” I say with a raised eyebrow as I lean on the wall. “I could use a good scream. I can feel one. Perched under my chin.” Will says honestly, he would probably benefit from a good scream to be honest. “Let it out.” I say softly. 

“I’m afraid if I started, I...wouldn’t be able to stop. I’m surprised Jack let you in here.

Given our romantic relationship.” Will says softly as his eyes traces my features as if he would forget them. “Jack doesn’t know about our romantic relationship. Didn’t know.” I sit down across from him and self-consciously glances at the two-way mirror. He slides his hand out, but catches himself and withdraws. Will glances selfconsciously at the two-way mirror.

“Been in touch with Animal Services. I’m going to pick up your dogs in a couple of hours. I’ll bring them back home with me and take care of them until... whenever.” I say softly and kindly, Of course i still love him, but i cant tell him that now, especially with Jack on the otherside of the mirror. “Are you sure? Whenever could be a long time from now.” Will says with suprise, “I’ll take care of them until then.”

“Thank you.”

“We have to do some tests. They’ll be the standard psychopathology tests. Thematic Apperception. Minnesota Multiphasic.” I explain, Im torn between wanting to be the one who does this and not the one. Because its hard to act like i do not care nor that i dont love the person that i have been through the most with. 

“Suppose you’re going to ask me to draw a clock while you’re at it.” Will says with a amused chuckle, i meet his eyes with a confused expression. “Hannibal ask you to draw a clock?” I ask confused, if He has what i think he does, Hannibal’s gonna get an ear full.  “Said it was an exercise to help ground me in a present moment. A handle to reality to hold onto.” 

“Was the clock normal?”

“Would I be here if it wasn’t?” Now My interest is raised. My antenna humming. I pull out pen and paper and slides it across the table. I swear to god. “Draw me a clock please.” I ask nicely and i watch his hands. Will takes the pen and paper and starts to draw a CLOCK.

My anger and horror grows as i watch Will draw a clock with all of the numbers and hands stacked on one side. Dahli-esque. Just like he did before with Hannibal. Will turns the picture and slides it to me. “See. Just a normal clock. Telling the time isn’t my problem.” I look at Will with growing dread.

“It’s the least of your problems.” I knew it, just need a brain scan to confirm it.  The truth of that weighs on us both.

HOBBS RESIDENCE - DAY-

We are TRACKING along the dark, empty hallway towards where light shines through from a window by the door. CLOSE and CLOSER to the FRONT DOOR. It OPENS to reveal two LOCAL COPS, guns at the ready. they make their way down the hall. One tries the LIGHT SWITCH but the power is dead. They move to the Kitchen doorway. They flash their flashlights, SCANNING the room. And the beams pick up splashes and sprays of BLOOD, slick black in

the shuttered gloom, turning red in the beams....The floor is covered in a pool of blood.

The TWO COPS hold on the charnel scene and stare...

B.A.U. - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Jack, Me, and Alana are with Zeller, Price and Katz. “Will was a fisherman. He tied all of his own lures.” Jack says to them. “Most anglers use feathers, twine, fur, bits of shell. Designing their flies to catch specific fish.” Jimmy says as he anaylzes the lure in his tweezers. Beverly displays a LURE --

“This one caught my eye. I noticed the hair color. Took me a few to accept what I was seeing. I ran a chem-set to confirm the connection.” Bev says as she looks at me with sadness, i can feel all of the deep emotions in the room. Its almost Overstimulating but i need to know everything to prove Will innocent, I know for a fact he didnt do this. 

“What connection?” Alana asks confusedly, she was Just as angry with Jack as i am. 

“Four of the lures are made from materials including human remains.” Bev says, well this keeps getting interesting.  Alana is stunned. Jack Crawford has heard many strange things in his career, but this requires a beat to process.

“We have DNA matches on all of them.” Jimmy says grimmly, As Beverly explains, she displays her grisly discoveries – “This one is Cassie Boyle. Bits of bone fragments and pieces of lung. Marissa Schuur. Antler velvet, a fingernail, wound with her hair. Doctor Sutcliffe. Crushed teeth, soft tissue from inside his mouth, bound with cartilage from his jaw.” Bev says as she displays the different lures. 

“All victims of the Copy Cat?”

“Other lure was made with hair and fiber matched to Georgia Madchen.”

“He kept trophies from his victims.”

“Trophies. Now Will Graham is a serial killer taking trophies?” Jack say incredously, he was in disbelief that any of this is happening.  “Something is wrong with Will, physically, neurologically. He’s not a serial killer.” Alana says, she was also upset after i showed her the clock. 

“Abigail’s just his latest victim. Must’ve been working together. She was probably going to expose him.” Zeller says in a tone that i do not like but i just stay leaned on the wall and watch and feel the comotion. Jimmy and Beverly glare at him but is unrepentant. “We let the fox into the chicken coop. And he played us all.” Zeller says and i glare at him.  

Jack Crawford winces at that horrible possibility...

B.A.U. - INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY-

Will sits alone. A MUFFLED CLICKING SOUND can be heard. Faint, but getting LOUDER. Will looks to the TWO WAY MIRROR. The MUFFLED HOOF STEPS draw closer and closer. Will stands from the table and crosses to the MIRROR, cupping his hands to see through it. nothing. Just the dark reflection of his eyes. Then a SILHOUETTE rises from the darkness behind the mirror, as if made from it. The ANTLERED MAN, Will’s personal Devil. As Will shudders with horror...

B.A.U. - INTERROGATION ROOM - REALITY-

Will is sitting back at the table, staring absently at the TWO WAY MIRROR. He realizes not only did he not get up and cross to the mirror because of his shackles, but now…JACK CRAWFORD...is sitting opposite him, his face slack with worry. A tiny startle from Will. He was off in a nightmare when Jack walked into the room and sat opposite him. “You’re sick, Will.”

“I wasn’t consistent with taking my antibiotics. My fever came back.” Will admits, he knows Y/N and Hannibal would scold him for doing so. “We’re going to move you to a secure medical ward where we will find out what’s wrong with you. And get you the treatment you need.” Jack says with distaste, how could he be so blind he thought to himself. How could he let any of this happen? 

“And then what? Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane? Have Chilton fumbling at my head?” Jack analyzes Will, hoping for any confirmation of something. “This job doesn’t generally lend itself to optimism. I desperately want to be optimistic about an alternative to what every fiber of evidence is telling me you did.”

“I can’t confess to something I don’t remember.” Will says, and why would he? For a lighter sentence? No, the courts and media will rake him across the coals. “Question is, how much more is there that you don’t remember? We found your fishing lures.” Jack says with a look. 

“I should hope so. They were on my desk next to the front door.” Will says oblivious to what they found entwined in them. “We found human remains in the materials you used to make them. Cassie Boyle. Marissa Schuur. Donald Sutcliffe. Georgia Madchen. Will’s mind reels, he shakes his head, unable to accept what Jack Crawford is telling him. “No. I wasn’t sick when Cassie

Boyle was murdered. I wasn’t sick when Marissa Schuur was murdered.” 

“That’s not an argument you want to be making right now. Not to me.” Jack says with a warning look. “Because then I’d be a psychopath.” Will says and his jaw clenches, “My biggest fear is learning you knew what you were doing all along.” Jack says as he looks into Will’s eyes and for once he doesn't avoid it.

“Don’t have to be afraid of that, Jack. But there is something you should be afraid of and that’s whoever is doing this to me.” Will says leaning closer. “Someone is doing this to you? Is that what this is? A set up?” Jack asks confused because Will has made some crazy claims but this- this is insane.

“They’ll be close to you. It could be someone here. Working with you. They know the cases. They know forensics. They know I’m unstable.” Will says, who is doing this? Certainly not Y/N.  “Do you hear how paranoid you sound?” Will allows himself a sad smile, not believing what he’s about to say, but also not knowing what to believe.

“Or it could just be you. Then I’m pretty much screwed, aren’t I?” Jack’s heart breaking at the state of Will of mind...

F.B.I. - DAY-

Will, now in IRONS, is being shuffle-walked to an AMBULANCE by a PARAMEDIC and a GUARD. Jack looks on, despairing. Will looks out at Jack as he is stepped up into the

AMBULANCE. Hold their look till the doors slam closed.

AMBULANCE - DAY-

The moving ambulance. Will Graham is sitting back on the GURNEY. His CUFFS round the gurney rail and fastened. Will is watching the solitary GUARD opposite him. He glances away with trepidation, he knows what he has to do, but doesn’t want to do it. He steels himself.

Will looks down, takes a deep breath and CRACKS his thumbs out of joint. A horrible SHRIEK/GROAN of pain as he slides his broken hand from the cuff in one move. The GUARD looks up. Will turns on him with a mixture of malice, pain and regret. And lunges.

HANNIBAL’S OFFICE - DAY- 

Hannibal stands with Jack and Me, mid-conversation.

“Broke his thumb getting out of the restraints. Disarmed his guard, threw him and the driver out of the vehicle. They found the ambulance in an alley in Dumfries. These are not the actions of an innocent man.” Jack says, sounds like what Able Gideon did when he went around killing his psychiatrists. 

“They’re the actions of a man who is impaired. I had Will draw a clock to test for cognitive dysfunction.” I place Will’s DALI-ESQUE drawing of a clock on the desk. Hannibal reacts, very concerned. Like he didn't already know. 

“That’s extreme.” He reaches for his notebook and opens it REVEALING the drawing Will made in his office. “This is the clock Will drew for me two weeks ago. It’s normal.” Bullshit.

“What disease progresses gradually but plateaus for lengths of time?” I raise my eyebrow as I pretend to buy his Bullshit. “Will has periods of clarity. We’ve seen him lucid and aware one moment and then the next moment he’s not.” Hannibal says looking me in the eyes. 

“It has to be some form of encephalitis.” I say with a deep breath, I crack my knuckles individually without breaking contact with Hannibal.

“Autoimmune encephalitis. Body’s immune system attacks the brain as if it is itself an infection.” Hannibal says as he searches my eyes for something, i'm not sure what he's looking for but i'm sure he won't find it. “It’s hard to diagnose. There are no tumors. No lesions. Wouldn’t show up on a brain scan unless you knew you were looking for it.” I say, I know this is whats wrong with Will. But I also know someone is setting him up.  Jack Crawford puts the train back on the tracks:

“Just tell me if he could’ve killed five people and not known about it.” Jack asks us. Neither I nor Hannibal can bring themselves to answer. “It’s unlikely.” Hannibal answers finally.

“Doesn’t feel like dementia. Feels like an intelligent psychopath. This killer called the Hobbs house, warned Abigail’s father. Hobbs then hung up the phone, killed his wife and cut his daughter’s throat.” Jack says but I just look at him with a sad look. “I and Dr. L/N were with Will that entire time.” Hannibal says, and i nod my head. 

“Did he have an opportunity to make a phone call?” Jack asks, my eyebrows furrow, No….He didn't but- Hannibal did. 

“At the construction site. Before we went to interview Garret Jacob Hobbs. Will was in the office

while I was outside loading the car with files, but he was only in there a minute or two.” Hannibal says as he looks at Jack to my face that's contorted with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw. 

“Dumb luck and bad bookkeeping. It’s how Will said you and him caught Hobbs.

How would you say you two caught Hobbs?” He glances at me, as if to prepare me for what’s coming.

“We were looking through the files and it was as if Will plucked his name out of a hat, based on little more than an incomplete address.” Hannibal says as he studies my face. I shake my head, 

“That’s what Me and Will do. We make those kinds of leaps.” I say with a bewildered look. 

“Allow me to play the devil, Dr. L/N. This clock test. Would Will Graham know how to fake it?”

After a long moment, I finally answered. “Yes. But i know Will and he-”

I’m fighting the sad apparent “truth” of it all and realizing there's someone in the room that likes to play god... Y/N’S HOUSE - DAY-

I come through the door after WILL’S DOGS, holding them all on two group leashes. The dogs pull until…“Tssst.” The dogs focus.

“Sit.” The dogs obey. Except for one. “Everyone.” The final dog sits. Alana allows herself a small, sad smile as she unfastens each of their collars from the lead.

“Okay.”  She gives them each a small treat. Y/N shrugs off her coat and drops her bag on the counter as the pack of dogs mill. She crosses to the REFRIGERATOR. Y/N Pours a glass of bourbon. The dogs follow her. She takes a deep sip and sighs. She rests against the counter as Winston cuddles at her feet. She’s exhausted. Just as she’s noticed the dogs have all trailed away...

“Y/N.” I STARTLE, dropping My glass of Bourbon.  Will Graham is now standing in the room with me, the dogs milling about, sniffing and greeting him with wagging tails.“Please don’t scream.” Even if he didnt ask, i wouldn’t’ve screamed. 

“Will…You can’t be here,  I can’t harbor you. No matter how much I want to.” I say with concern, “I know. Just got a little confused. I needed to get my bearings. It’s good to see the dogs. Thought I wasn’t going to see them again. Or you.” He says as he squats and pets the dogs.

“I know you didn't do this, I know it. You didn't kill anyone other than Garret Jacob Hobbs.” I say softly, I know this, Hannibal knows this. Will would never, even in hallucination, hurt Abigail. Let alone Kill her. 

“If I don’t find out who is doing this to me, I’ll be going away. They already think I did it.

They’ll diagnose me with something and they’ll keep diagnosing me and they’ll keep being wrong.” Will says as he shakes his head, and I agree. What's happening to him isnt mental. It's physical. And I know Hannibal knows it. 

“I’ll work from the inside. I’ll figure it out honey, I'll do whatever it takes.” I say softly as I look at him. I do mean it. I will figure a way out for Will.  I won't let anyone put him away. I won't let anyone take away his freedom. I'll give him the help he needs and I'll make sure justice is served. 

“I love you.” He walks towards me slowly, takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly. My breathing hitches as i kiss him back my hands going into his soft hair. I pull away. “I love you.” I say and I lean towards him, my mouth at his ear, “I’m gonna flash the lights of my car, I’m gonna pretend to be frightened. I’m not gonna stop til I figure out who did this to you.” I whisper in his ear and pull away, becoming the character I need to play.  Will smiles at me and takes the car keys, sad and disappointed. He considers them a moment, then hands them back to me.

“You were pretty slick about that. You just unlocked your car doors, didn’t you? Flashed the lights? They’ll be waiting for me outside.” Will says in a dark tone, getting into the character he needs to play, though he plays it a little too well. “If there was somebody out there, wouldn’t they already be coming through the door?” I say shakily,taking a shaky step back. “No, they wouldn’t. Because they know I could kill you before they got up those stairs.”

The reality of that hangs in the air, then:

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He quietly moves toward the back door, disappearing down the hall. I wait there for a moment, afraid to move. I realize she stopped breathing and takes a jagged breath.

OFF that moment...

HANNIBAL’S OFFICE - DAY-

Hannibal works at his desk in his darkened office. Then: “Hello, Will. How are you feeling?” REVEAL Will is up on the landing, tucked in the corner. “Self aware.”

“You frightened Y/N.” Hannibal says concerned for her. “She’s confused about who I am, which I can relate to. Are you confused about who I am?” Will asks as he stares off into space. “I’m not confused. I’m skeptical. Meaning I’m willing to change my mind should the evidence change.” Hannibal says as he stands from his desk.

“Do you believe I killed Abigail?” Will asks as he looks down into Hannibal's eyes. 

“I believe it’s entirely possible, if not nearly indisputable based on how you discovered her ear.” Hannibal say as he maintains eye contact. “If it was just Abigail, I would have believed. I would have believed I got so far inside Hobbs’ head, I couldn’t get out.” Will says softly. “But it wasn’t just Abigail.”

“I know who I am.” Will says surely.

“All sense of who you are has been distorted by your illness. You know who you are in this moment. That isn’t always the case.” Hannibal says to him. “I didn’t kill any of them. Someone is making sure no one believes me.” Hannibal sighs, debating how to best help his friend.

“If we’re to prove you didn’t commit these murders, perhaps we should consider how you could have. And then disprove that.”

HANNIBAL’S OFFICE - THERAPY - LATER-

Will sits opposite Hannibal, a session like any other save for the fact that Will is wearing a prison jumpsuit.

“If you are this killer, that identity runs through these events like a thread through pearls. Cassie Boyle would have been your first victim. You said her crime scene was practically gift wrapped.” the crime scene in the darkened shadows of the room as if in the recesses of Will’s mind: CASSIE BOYLE MOUNTED ON THE STAG HEAD, all of it PAINTED BLACK.

WILL GRAHAM

“It told me and Y/N everything we needed to know to catch Garret Jacob Hobbs.” As Hannibal speaks, Will can see out of the corner of his eye, movement near the crime scene, A SEPARATE AND DISTINCT DARK SHAPE with ANTLERS, prowling near Cassie Boyle’s body.

“You’d seen one of Hobbs’ victims, you knew how he killed. You may have been exploring how he killed to better understand who he was.” 

“I wasn’t in Minnesota when Cassie Boyle was murdered.”

“She disappeared on a Saturday. Found her on a Monday. You would’ve had the weekend to do your work.”

“I know I didn’t kill her.”

“How do you know?” Will’s mind spins for an answer. Hannibal doesn’t allow him to articulate it, continuing to draw a psychological picture

as  another crime scene in the room: MARISSA SCHUUR MOUNTED ON ANTLERS, all of it PAINTED BLACK.

“What did you think when you first met Marissa Schuur? How much like Abigail she was? Same height, same weight, same hair color, same age.”

“How could I resist?” The BLACK ANTLERS around Marissa Schuur move REVEALING the INHUMAN SILHOUETTE of the DARK SHAPE, only now it becomes clear it is the MAN STAG that haunted Will’s nightmare. “So much like his daughter, you may have wondered why Garret Jacob Hobbs didn’t kill her himself.” Will fights the confusion, sickened by it.  another crime scene behind Hannibal’s desk: DR. SUTCLIFFE NEARLY DECAPITATED AT THE JAW. PAINTED BLACK.

“Dr. Sutcliffe wasn’t killed how Garret Jacob Hobbs killed. He was murdered how you imagined yourself murdering a woman only days before.”

“How Georgia Madchen killed. She said she dreamt I killed Sutcliffe. But she couldn’t see my face. And then she was murdered.”

“You catch these killers, Will, by getting into their heads, but you also let them into yours.”

BLACK ANTLERS rise in the darkness behind Hannibal, the MAN STAG taking shape from the shadow. It has Hannibal’s face. Will winces at the image in his head, shaking it off. “I’m trying to help you, Will.”

“Then take me back to Minnesota. I want to see where Abigail died.” OFF Will’s determination...

HANNIBAL’S CAR - NIGHT-

Hannibal drives, windshield wipers thumping rhythmically as rolls RAIN off in sheets. He glances over at Will Graham who dozes fitfully in the passenger seat.

HOBBS RESIDENCE - DAY-

Hannibal’s BENTLEY pulls into the driveway, Hannibal behind the wheel. Will Graham in the passenger seat. Hannibal and Will get out of the car and head into the house. Even though the car has been turned off, the PURR OF THE BENTLEY’S ENGINE continues to haunt Will beneath the PICTURE and carry on into and throughout the next scene.

HOBBS RESIDENCE - FOYER - DAY-

Will ENTERS. He walks cautiously down the hall, Hannibal no longer behind him. He walks into:

THE KITCHEN Breakfast time. LOUISE HOBBS is cooking eggs, Garret Jacob Hobbs helping her prep. Abigail sets the table. It’s the moment before everything in Abigail Hobbs’ life changed.

Will Graham stands in the room, watching the scene. The phone RINGS. It startles Will. A sense of dread as Abigail crosses to the phone and answers it. “Hello? Just a second. Dad, it’s for you.”

“Who is it?”

“Caller i.d. said it was blocked.” She hands her father the phone and as he raises it to his

Ear, GARRET JACOB HOBBS is NOW WILL GRAHAM. Will puts the receiver to his ear. The pervasive purr of Hannibal’s Bently engine suddenly stops. “Hello?”

“Will?”

“Yes.”

“We’re here –”

He opens his eyes. 

HANNIBAL’S CAR - NIGHT-

Hannibal sits in the driver’s seat; we can still hear the carCOOLING and PINGING. Will takes a deep breath and heaves a sigh as he OPENS HIS CAR DOOR and climbs out.

HOBBS RESIDENCE - BASEMENT - NIGHT-

The SLIDING GLASS DOOR slowly ROLLS OPEN and Will and Hannibal ENTER. They move cautiously through the room. Will turns and sees Hannibal standing behind him, a familiarity to

their placement in the room takes us to...

Will stands where he is now, Hannibal in the same position, only Y/N, Alana and Abigail are also present. Abigail asks: “Are we going to re-enact the crime? You be my dad. You be my mom. And you be the man on the phone.” Hannibal is caught off guard. More so by Abigail’s steely nonchalant stare that follows her comment.

HOBBS RESIDENCE - BASEMENT - RESUMING-

Realization dawning, Will dares to stare at Hannibal only briefly before averting his eyes and turning away. “Are we going to re-enact the crime?”

“If it would help you.”

“It may come to that.” Will shrinks into the shadows of the house. Hannibal follows.

HOBBS RESIDENCE - FOYER - NIGHT-

The house is cold. Will and Hannibal climb the stairs to the main floor. Will pauses, bracing himself, as he moves into: THE KITCHEN. the Kitchen is empty. Blood stains everywhere. A processed crime scene. Forensic markers etc.

Will STARES – Steps into the room. He bows his head, his face crumpled with emotion. He takes a breath and then looks up again. “It’s as if Abigail was supposed to die in this kitchen. Nothing we did was able to change that.” Hannibal is as horrified by the room as Will, feigning as though he is seeing it for the first time. Will looks at the ARTERIAL SPRAY on the wall, deeply saddened.

“Her throat was cut. She lost great gouts of blood and there’s an unmistakable arterial spray –”

He stops himself, unable to speak for a moment. “They haven’t found her body.”

“Just the one piece.”

“If you were in Garret Jacob Hobbs’ frame of mind when you killed her, they may never find her body.”

“Cause I honored every part of her?” Will says as he turns around and looks at him. “Perhaps you didn’t come here looking for a killer. Perhaps you came here to find yourself. You

killed a man in this very room.”

“I stared at Hobbs and the space opposite me assumed the shape of a man filled with dark and swarming flies. And then I scattered them.” Will says as he puts his hand into his jacket pocket. “At a time when other men first see and fear their isolation, yours has become understandable to you. You are alone because you are unique.”

“I’m as alone as you are.”

“If you followed the urges you kept down for so long, cultivated themas the inspirations they are, you’d become someone other than yourself.” Hannibal remarks as he gazes at the mural of blood spray. 

“I know who I am. I’m not so sure I know who you are anymore. But I am certain one of us killed Abigail.” Will raises his gun and steadies it at Hannibal. “Are you a killer, Will? You. Right now. This man in front of me. Is this who you really are?”

“You called here that morning. Abigail knew. You kept her secrets until she found out some of yours.” Hannibal eyes the gun in Will’s hand. “You said it felt good to kill Garret Jacob Hobbs, Will. Would it feel good to kill me now?”

“Garret Jacob Hobbs was a murderer. Are you a murderer, Dr. Lecter?”

“What reason would I have?”

“You have no traceable motive, which is why you were so hard to see. You were just curious what I would do. What Y/N would do.  Someone like me. Someone like Her.  Someone who thinks how we think. Wind them up and watch them go. Apparently, Dr. Lecter, this is how I go.”

Betrayed and confused, Will’s finger tenses on the trigger.

Jack Crawford ENTERS, gun drawn, sees Will is preparing to shoot Hannibal, and in a terrible re-enactment, SHOOTS WILL. BLAM! A bullet slams into Will’s shoulder and he is knocked against the counter, slides down it. Right where Garret Jacob Hobbs died. Blood flecks Hannibal’s face and shirt. Jack comes forward, still holding his smoking weapon. He kicks the gun from Will’s loose fingers. Looks down at the bleeding Will with anguish. Will looks up at Jack and Hannibal. Will holds Jack’s gaze. “See? See?” His vision begins to dim and LOSE FOCUS, as it does HANNIBAL BLURS AND SHIFTS into the BLACKENED MAN STAG, and we...

HOBBS RESIDENCE - NIGHT-

The gurney is being moved to an ambulance by PARAMEDICS. Jack Crawford is moving behind it, concerned. They take us past - HANNIBAL LECTER, who watches Will being put in the ambulance. Flecks of blood still on his face... the gurney is rushed into the ambulance and the doors are pulled closed on Jack Crawford. The ambulance pulls away, lights flashing. Leaving Jack to  watch it go and then he turns to Hannibal. Their eyes meet.

HOSPITAL - ER - NIGHT-

As an ER team work on Will, his clothes have been pulled away. A DOCTOR is cleaning the BULLET WOUND in his shoulder. The wound is ugly and red. a blood bag goes up on a stand. A needle is slid into the crook of Will’s elbow. Monitoring machines start to bleep. A bloom of BLOOD in the barrel of an I/V needle as Will is injected with drugs. Another I/V bag - antibiotics, slid into his other arm. from the foot of the bed. Will Graham, unconscious, drips and drugs and machines working on his behalf… Sleeps. In a hospital bed. Wired up to drips and monitors.

HOSPITAL - WILL GRAHAM’S ROOM - DAY-

Down the corridor and into Will’s room. Will Graham unconscious in the bed. Two chairs

pulled up by the bed. Hannibal sits in one, eyes on Will. He looks up as Jack enters. Jack takes the other seat. “Right hemisphere of his brain was inflamed. Been placed in an induced sleep. He’s being treated with antiviral and steroid therapies.”

“Is he responding?”

“More or less. He’s expected to make a substantial recovery. Over time.” Hannibal looks at Will in his comatose state, then asks: “Would you have gone to Minnesota if he didn’t have a gun on you?” Jack asks Hannibal as he gazes upon Will who has the feelings of Betrayal dripping from the very essence of his soul. “Even now I feel that I’ve failed to satisfy my obligation to Will.”

“Any regrets?”

“More than I would care to admit. Psychiatrists can have divided loyalties. We have to protect our patients from becoming victims of the pressures we face to help them.” Hannibal says as he sits with the fact that Will  does not trust him anymore.  “Will Graham isn’t your victim.”

“Nor is he yours.” Jack considers that, not so sure it’s the case. “In my life, I’ve seen some hideous and offhanded ways in which the world breaks people. This is worse than anything I’ve seen on the autopsy scales. What I experienced with Will Graham has caused in me a small tectonic shift. I am not the same man I was yesterday.” Jack says.

“No one in this room is.” Hannibal studies Jack Crawford’s regret as B.S.H.C.I. - CELL BLOCK - DAY- 

The cave-like cell on the high security block. The security gate opens and Hannibal Lecter steps inside. He stops and takes in the surroundings. The smells. Straightens his tie. Hannibal walks down the block, aware of the inmates. He continues down the corridor until it finds the last cell on the block REVEALING WILL GRAHAM INSIDE. He wears a B.S.H.C.I. jumpsuit. His cell bare except for bed and table. They appraise each other through the safety barrier.

“Hello, Will.”

“Hello...Dr. Lecter.”

[beepeepmeep]

Sebastian x reader (angst)

“Oh fuck..” you heard as you neared the top of the stairs headed to the spa, accompanied by light wet slapping sounds.

“Oh Sebastian!” A female voice said.

“Sebastian?…” you thought as your heartbeat quickened, dread settling into a pit in your stomach. As you approached, the voices got louder and you were able to clearly recognize them.

“No..it can’t be..” you thought in disbelief as your legs carried you faster towards the bathhouse, the cool night air hitting your face harder, feeling like hundreds of tiny blades stabbing your face.

“Fuck I’m so close!” Sebastian’s hushed voice slurred gruffly.

“Me too sebby” Abigail panted.

As you rounded the corner you were met with a scene you could have never imagined you’d witness in your life. Your husband, Sebastian, pinning your best friend Abigail to the wall of the bathhouse. Pants around his ankles while Abigail’s legs were wrapped around his waist, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Sebastian?…” you said in shock, voice barely above a whisper. The sudden intrusion of your presence shocking them both into stillness, their heads snapping towards you in a flash. At first, none of you moved. All three of you being frozen in shock for what seemed like hours but truly only lasted for a second. Immediately you came to your senses, hot tears bubbling at your eyes and falling down your face. Sebastian and Abigail let go of each other and scrambled to put their bottoms back on.

“Y/n! Please I can explain it’s not what you think!” Sebastian pleaded, desperation etched in his voice as he made his way towards you hastily while trying to buckle his pants up. Abigail only stared at you, eyes filled with regret and sadness. You took a step back as you watched your husband, the love of your life, approach you- hands outstretched and eyes filling with tears. You didn’t say another word as you turned and ran back down the way you came, the fall air rushing through your hair as your tears blurred your vision. You didn’t know where you were running to but you didn’t care, all you knew is that you needed to get away from both of them and fast. With your heart beating so fast and loud you didn’t even hear your husband yelling for you to wait, pleading with you to let him explain. As you ran past his parents home you couldn’t help but think about everything that led you up to this moment. The first time you met him, up until the day of your wedding, mind flooding with doubts and worries. “How long has this been going on? Has he been cheating on you since day one? How could they do this to you? What’s gonna happen now?” As you approached the town you bumped into your close friend, Shane.

“Fuck” he cursed as you both stumbled back.

“Y/n? What are you doing out here so late? What the fuck happened why are you crying?” Shane asked with worry as he grabbed your shoulder to steady your shaking form. You couldn’t get any words out, body collapsing into his arms. Tears running freely as they stung your cold face, letting out pained sobs.

“Sebastian..Abigail…bathhouse..” you wailed as you clung onto Shane’s shirt. You heard Sebastian ‘s rushed footsteps approaching and you panicked, you don’t want to be near him right now.

“Get me out of here please” you pleaded with Shane. He didn’t need another word as he dragged you with him towards Marnie’s ranch, once inside he lead you to his room and sat with you at the edge of his bed, arms tight around you as he let you sob into him. He’d always been like an older brother to you, of course he was cold and shut off at first but over time he grew to view you as the little sister he never had (besides jas kinda). Once you calmed down and your sobs turned into sniffles you decided to let go and look down at your hands resting in your lap.

“What happened.” Shane asked, anger clear in his voice, as he stared intently at you.

“I was heading to the spa after a long day in the mines when I heard Sebastian’s voice along with Abigail’s. Once I rounded the corner I saw them..together…he was holding her and his p-pants were down…” your voice wavered as tears started to bubble up again.

“Once they both realized I was there they stopped and got off each other but it was too late because I had a-already seen enough…” tears falling once more, landing on your hands and pooling in your palms. Shane exhaled through his nose, extending his hand to place around your shoulders as support.

“What am I gonna do Shane? He’s my husband and she’s my best friend. Two of the people I care about most in the world besides you betrayed me. I cant go back home, I can’t face either of them!” You said desperately, body shaking as you turned to face Shane. His expression filled with anger yet worry for you.

“That bastard. I’ll kill him.” He said as his hand dropped from your shoulders and formed into a fist.

“I just want to forget about this Shane, I can’t go back home, can I stay here tonight?” You asked softly as your gaze dropped down into your lap again.

“Of course lil sis, I’m not letting you go back there with that bastard. I’ll deal with him tomorrow but for now let me get you some pj’s and a towel so you can have a hot shower.” He said as he moved to dig through his cabinets, pulling out an oversized shirt and some fuzzy pajama pants. After your shower you came back into his room, seeing an air mattress on the floor and Shane setting up some blankets for himself.

“Come on, you’re sleeping on my bed but I’m not leaving you in here alone with the state you’re in.” He nodded towards his bed and looked at you expectantly. You walked to it and laid down, making yourself comfortable as Shane went yo turn the lights off. Your exhausted body relaxing into the bed and drifting into unconsciousness quickly after the long day you’d had.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs from the kitchen, sitting up groggily and rubbing your puffy eyes from the blurry sleepiness. You stretched and got out of bed, heading towards the kitchen. Shane was already up and sitting at the table with Jas as Marnie set up a plate for you, already used to you sleeping over because of the sibling like relationship you and Shane had.

“Good morning y/n” Marnie greeted cheerfully, placing your plate down on the chair next to Shane. She had heard the commotion last night and gathered that something bad between you and Sebastian had happened, taking one look at your swollen and irritated eyes solidified her suspicions.

After breakfast, you changed into some clothes that you’d left there from previous sleep overs. You had to feed the animals and tend to your garden so there was no time to wallow in your heart break. Nervously, you left Marnie’s ranch and headed up to yours - Shane tagged along of course, he wasn’t gonna let that bastard get near you after what he did. As you approached your property your nerves rose up into your chest, anxiety taking grip of your heart as you flashed back to what you’d seen last night. Regardless, you tended to your animals and watered your crops.

“You’re gonna be staying with me for a few days right? At least until that asshole gets his shit and goes back to his moms basement right?” Shane spoke in a gruff voice as he turned to look at your farmhouse. No doubt wanting to barge in there and strangle Sebastian with his bare hands.

“Yeah..but I’m nervous Shane.. I know he’s in there but I don’t even want to look at him, much less talk to him.” You said nervously, hands fiddling with each other as you looked at the house you’d previously thought you’d raise your children in, with the man you promised to spend the rest of your life with.

“Don’t worry, I’m right here with you. You know he won’t try anything with me around y/n” Shane spoke, softly now as he tried to reassure you. You lock eyes with him and give him a determined nod. The both of you make the quick walk towards your house which normally brought you comfort but is now making the pit in your stomach bubble with dread. You twist the door knob, surprisingly it’s unlocked and the door creaks open. As if on cue you heard the creak of floor boards as your husband made his way towards you, not noticing Shane next to the door.

“Y/n!! Baby you’re back! I’m so sorry please let me explain! We were both drunk a-and- I was so worried about you I didn’t know where you went-“ Sebastian scrambled to the door. As he came into view your heart wrenched in pain, he was so handsome, wearing his signature hoodie and black jeans. His eyes were also swollen presumably from crying all night too. (Not like he wasn’t the cause of this whole ordeal but okay) He attempted to grab you and pull you into a hug, no sooner were his long cold fingers centimeters from your skin did Shane step in front of you and put his arm against Sebastian’s chest- stopping him in his tracks. Both men glared at each other as you walked around Shane and into your house. Your husband’s gaze immediately followed you, eyes pleading for you to talk to him.

“I’m picking some stuff up, I’ll be staying with Shane at Marnie’s for a bit while you get your stuff out. I’ll give you 5 days.” You said, your tone cold and angry but your eyes shone somberly, fixated at the floor next to your husband’s feet. Sebastian’s expression changed to desperation, he moved toward you but Shane gripped his shoulder firmly.

“Baby please! Don’t do this! I love you so much y/n it was a mistake it’ll never happen again. You’re my wife! I cant be without you baby please!” His words fell on deaf ears as you shook in anger, turning to face him directly as you cried hot angry tears.

“Shut the fuck up Sebastian! I knew you had a thing for Abigail before but I thought you were over it! I should have known it was too good to be true! You fucking asshole, I trusted you with my heart! I want you out of here, after this I never want to see you again.” You lashed angrily as you walked up to your husband, jabbing your finger into his chest as you looked up to his shocked and hurt face. You turned to Shane, eyes telling him to wait for you outside so you could talk to your husband alone for a minute. He nodded and closed the door behind him as he left but you knew he’d be waiting for you right outside. Facing Sebastian again you looked at him, your heart broken expression was too much for him to handle as his own tears ran down his face. He reached to put his arms around you and you pushed back with flat open palms but you knew you weren’t strong enough to push him away.

“Y-n..please. I love you so much I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me, I can’t lose you y/n. It didn’t mean anything. I am over that stupid childish crush on her. I swear to you, I’ll never make another mistake again.” Sebastian pleaded as he sobbed, arms tightening around you. You closed your fists and lightly punched his chest. It’s not fair, why are you so weak, why must you love this man so much.

“I can’t Sebastian.. she must still mean something more to you than a friend if you went that far… seeing you and her together….I can’t get it out of my head. I’ll never look at either of you the same. Please just leave. I need time alone. I’ll be back in 5 days please don’t try to talk me out of this.” You said, silent tears falling to the floor as you looked down- unable to look at your husband in fear that you’d give in if you saw his pained expression. You wiggled free from his grasp as you walked to the door and opened it, signaling Shane to come back in and help you retrieve some stuff. Sebastian was left there standing at the doorway in shock, unable to look up. After a few moments you and Shane returned, heading to the door.

You paused just before stepping out, not looking back “Goodbye Sebastian” you said coldly before walking ahead, Shane bumping shoulders with him as he made his way out as well.

[angelkissiies]

Okay, I'm kinda obsessed with the idea of an abby that doesn't realise how hot she is. Not in a cocky way, more like she is genuinely baffled by the idea that a person that she knows and likes can see her that way. Like, she assumes you're being a bitchy mean girl because you keep staring at her in the gym, and she thinks that you're gossiping about her whenever she walks in the room because you have to physically turn away to stop yourself staring so it looks like you're hiding something.

You two end up alone together for some reason and she's finding out that you're not actually the worst, when you ask her why she keeps going back to boat boy. She tells you that it's not like she has any other options, which... no, you're not standing for that. So you decide to go for it and you shift closer to her, running your hand over her shoulder and clavicle in what could be considered a purely comforting way, if your voice didn't catch slightly when your hand makes contact because God you love feeling her muscles. You tell her something like 'Abby, chicks dig muscles, I assure you' or maybe you get really bold and lean in to whisper 'there must be someone who wants to watch these muscles writhe'. But she swats away your hand and tells you not to make fun of her because *she thinks you're making fun of her*.

So you bring out the big guns. Huffing out 'I can't believe I have to do this' under your breath, you swing your leg over her lap, grab her face to make her look you in the eyes, and say 'Abigail Anderson, I will only say this once because this really isn't my usual style, but I need you to know that i would give up food for a week for the chance to make you come once. And i know that you're used to... well, just know that only seeing that once in a night would be a fucking tragedy for me. I get it if you don't see me that way, but you must know you have better options than a guy who doesn't know what foreplay is.' And she'd open her mouth to defend him reflexively, but your hand would slip from where it held her jaw to rest on her chest as you said 'Please have some self-respect. You deserve more'

And the two of you would sit there for a bit with her gaze flickering back and forth between your eyes, and her mouth repeatedly starting to form a sentence that never comes. So you decide to help her out and ask 'can I kiss you or should I get off of you?' but she just looks more shell shocked at that. So you move to get off her, mumbling your apologies, but her hands grab your thighs lightning fast so you turn back to her and the look on her face makes you smirk. She breaks eye contact, her eyes searching the room in thought for a moment before she looks even more incredulous and just says '.....what?!?...' And you realise that you can have some fun so you roll your eyes, adjust your position straddling her thighs, and say 'fine, I meant to say: May I kiss you, pretty please? ... or should I get off of you?'.

And then you'd fuck and it'd be great but the thing she'd remember most would be the little noises of appreciation that you'd make as your hands and mouth ran over her body, because you couldn't believe how fucking perfect all of it was. But realising that the muscle was something to be praised or worshipped, rather than an obstacle to be looked past, would rock her to her core. And Owen would evaporate immediately after her second orgasm of the night because he's so violently allergic to good sex that it can kill him from miles away.

The end. Thanks for reading my little story. Tune in next week for more 'why the fuck is this in my ask-box?'

anon im foaming at the mouth ,, you massacred this you captured it so well. i beg you to never stop sending me stuff like this bc 😵‍💫